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#i dunno where this angst came from
soraviie · 1 year
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Here you go~~~~
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Largely, you let it all slip away. The fear of the curse. The terror of the future. The knowledge of who stands before you, ready to accept the desperate deal. You let it all just...rot. Rot back into the ground where it disappears into the dark like a drop of blood oozing from the pricked flesh of your ring finger.
"Do you do this of your own free will?"
His voice rings like a gruff whisper throughout the small, darkened clearing of the misty, lifeless woods where trees spiral crooked and foul as malice has walked between them for as long as the village in it's shade dared to breathe its meagre life.
"Yes," numbly, you whisper. He seems remarkably...human. When you summoned one of the worst demons that all nine levels of hell had to offer, naively or not, you presumed that you'd be greeted with the worst abomination possible - some incomprehensible eldritch horror but he was just...a man. A bored one, by the looks of it.
"And do you fully understand what you agree upon in this place? In this moment?"
"Yes."
Forking over your own already sold soul. You ought to have gotten a hand on one of those "world's worst mother" mugs so you could smash it into her fucking face. Who sells their infant to a demon? Your mother that's who. You could have done nothing more than to slobber at that age and unwittingly become a pawn in a more than five centuries old legend - only when a human of pure soul will accept the hand of one who is not, a curse of Blackwood Moore shall be lifted and the evil of the accursed land shall be squandered.
So here you were, accepting the hand of one who was decidedly not human. All in all, you cannot figure out whether the small cut on your finger is irritating or makes you grateful. He could have slit your whole hand open, hell, your fucking throat if he wanted to but the nameless demon, the second pawn of the story, had just pricked the very tip of your ring finger, his cold hand coming to grip it gently into his hold.
Remarkably caring for someone who was so unholy.
You press your bloodied finger against the contract written in an archaic language. The paper if it was that stings for a second but once you let it go, the pain stops. The demon repeats the motion and once he does, the deal disappears and only stilted quiet can be heard in the entirety of the dark forest.
So...you're screwed. And you're going to die.
One tear pushes past the facade of your apathy, rolling down the dirtied cheek. He sees it and you prepare yourself to be mocked but, instead, without saying a word, he lifts a thumb and brushes it away.
"You need not to weep," he mutters, the coldness of his fingers freezing your own. "I'm not so dreadful."
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send in a picture of the boys and I'll write a scenario
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the-broken-pen · 11 months
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The villain stared down at them, eyes not quite cold, but not caring either. Their hands were steady. The hero shook.
“You’re my best friend,” the hero’s voice broke, and it was a plea and a statement and a reminder all at once.
Don’t do this, I love you—
The gun went off.
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motherarts · 9 months
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Rocking steady, above the shore,
didn't think I could hold anymore.
He appeared and took a seat beside me,
never thought that he would guide me.
After all, who would trust a liar?
He told me tales about the stars,
he told me that they were a light from the heart.
Now as the ceiling falls I wonder,
was it all a lie? Did I blunder?
My arm aches, my back is sore.
I think I'm going to win this war,
The astronaut doesn't agree.
After all. . .
What is life without me?
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21: “I fucking hate you”
Joel looks a little shocked as he looks up at Lenny. "What the fuck did I do?"
Lenny slams a stack of papers down onto the Button Club's bar and slides them over.
When Joel looks down at them, he realizes he's seen them before.
Hospital discharge papers from the beginning of 1955.
"See - okay, you know what?" Joel snaps. "This was not my fault."
"No?" Lenny asks, his eyebrows raising. "So you...didn't complain to Midge that she wasn't losing her baby weight fast enough, and she didn't land herself in the hospital after starving herself to try and please you?"
Joel swallows. "It's not like I told her to do that."
"You know Midge," Lenny snarls. "And you know that back then, if she wasn't perfect, she went nuts, and you helped drive her to it. Take some responsibility for once in your god-damn life."
"I didn't mean for that to happen!"
"You didn't notice her dropping weight so fast?" Lenny asks.
"I thought she was just losing the weight! I thought it was a good thing!" Joel cries. "And it was almost ten years ago now! What does it matter now?"
"it matters," Lenny snaps. "It matters to me."
"Why?"
"Because she deserved better than to be treated that way by someone who supposedly loved her," Lenny says, staring the other man in the eyes.
Joel can only stare.
Lenny shakes his head and picks the papers back up, starting for the door. "It's a good thing you fucked up your marriage so bad, because if you hadn't, she may not have survived the fucking experience."
And with that, he's gone as if he were never there to begin with.
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ingo-ingoing-ingone · 2 years
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So I've been seeing a ton of submas art with the cool triangle pupils and I LOVE IT. Sometimes artists will make Emmet's white, and while I love that too bc DOPE character design, I always think "he does look a bit like he's blind."
So I guess my brain cooked up a new AU!
Blinding Radiance AU
After Ingo goes missing, Emmet does his very best to find leads. It doesn't take him too long to decide to turn to Arceus for help. Or to fistfight, he doesn't not care which. After months of trying, of being unstoppable in his research... He makes a breakthrough, somehow. Im still trying to think of how. Maybe some wild ultra beast and wormhole lore, maybe another legendary, but he finds his way to Arceus's personal realm.
Unfortunately, human eyes weren't meant to see that. Emmet is basically instantly blinded. Hence the white pupils. Arceus actually feels quite bad about this (since this is my Arceus and it actually does care about humanity and the Pokémon of the world, even if it can do surprisingly little)
As a consolation for inadvertently taking his sight, Arceus removes some of the memories of being blinded from Emmet... and leaves him with the knowledge that in a year's time, Ingo will come home.
Emmet is sent back to Gear Station, and his life continues. There is an OBVIOUS adjustment. Elesa helps a lot, but is so relieved that Emmet seems actually much more himself.
Emmet doesn't remember how he lost his sight. But he DOES remember speaking to Arceus and hearing that his brother will be back. Some people believe him. Elesa does because he speaks with such conviction about this, like he truly does KNOW something they do not. Most people who are close to Emmet believe him due to this.
The world at large is more skeptical. Some think he lost his mind a bit when he lost his sight. Buy most people are just glad he's healing and feels happy again. Maybe if he's wrong when the time comes, he'll have gained good coping mechanisms!
After adjusting, he does end up going back to work. Sure he can't drive the trains or direct them but he can still do his other boss duties and run double battles all the same! Everyone has him take it slow at first, it's a big adjustment! But he figures it out verrry quickly.
His galvantula becomes his seeing eye spider. It has six of them, it can spare two! It learns very quickly bc it's always been incredibly in tune with Emmet. Archeops and Eelektross were considered for the job, but neither really walks on the ground and thus might miss uneven footing and stuff like that. He also gets a white cane; I’ve read a few conflicting things via google (thaaaanks google really trust you for info) about color coding. Originally, I was going to have it be white with red stripes and line up with the pattern on Emmet’s coat when held upright to uphold his traffic cone vibes. But it seems that prooobably would mean he’s got hearing loss too, though some sites said ‘totally blind and/or deaf’ so I don’t actually know! Seems to also vary by country! So let’s just stick with white, at least that seems to have a consensus.
While Emmet doesn’t have hearing that functions any better than any other humans’, he’s used to listening for nuance. For using his ears rather than his eyes to pick up on his brother’s emotions. So he would be DAMN good at reading people. And his perception of touch is already somewhat heightened; time to use that to his advantage!
So yeah! Emmet gets along just fine! And he is happy, because he knows his brother is safe and will return to him. He just has to be patient.
...
Ingo does come home, just when Arceus said he would. Safe and sound, he’s deposited in Gear Station. He finds it strange, that he recognizes Emmet before Emmet recognizes him. He approaches, unable to form words around the lump in his throat, and his brother (because that is his twin brother!) doesn’t react...?
He only gets a reaction when he finally reaches him and hugs him, and even then it’s just a jolt. To Emmet, this is stress inducing. No one had done this to him because they KNEW not to... But then he hears the voice, and he can hardly dare hope...
“Ingo?” he asks, and it’s then that Ingo sees Emmet’s face and realizes that he can’t see. “Has it been a year? No, this can’t be real.” Even after hearing Arceus itself, Emmet did hold some doubts...
But all of that vanishes when Ingo takes Emmet’s hands in his and puts them on either side of his face. A moment, a bright recognition from Emmet, and then 
“You are Ingo. No one else would have such a stupid hairstyle.”
And immediately as if on instinct “we are IDENTICAL!!”
Cue laughing and tears and the usual sibling squabbles. Emmet patting his brother’s hat and shoulders and discovering the rips in his uniform like “what did you do to your hat and coat?!” and just. General bullshittery!
I have no clue what would happen after that! They’d probably just go back to being the subway master duo, happy and good at their jobs lol
Whew that was a lot of typing. Take a sketch of Emmet in this AU that gave me a lot of trouble!!
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chaoticrokiroki · 1 year
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i LOVE todojirou but you know who also deserves the world? momo. u know who's got two hands? that's right all three of them. this could just be called class 1A vs compulsory heterosexuality tbh
it's very confusing for their class, at first. momo and todoroki were pretty much treated as "inevitable" since second year, just like uraraka and deku or jirou and kaminari. that doesn't mean they were right, of course, just that everyone seemed to be expecting it in some way or another.
so, when they started spending time together no one was really surprised. and jirou's presence was, more often than not, seen as either emotional support (because momo was still not as confident as she ought to be but who was really? they were teenagers still) or just an unfortunate third wheel.
it didn't occur to them, to wonder about the way todoroki seemed to be going out of his way to hang out just as much with jirou as he was with momo - or that jirou had been splitting her time equally with both of them.
not untill it wasn't so much todoroki-and-momo or momo-and-jirou but todoroki-momo-jirou. all the time.
there's pushback, of course. there always is whenever something doesn't fit with the norm. whenever there's something that people don't quite understand (it scares them, always. and from fear comes anger, inevitably.)
by their third year, the class has somewhat adapted to compensate for it. a sort of shield, whenever it gets to be too much. when not even their incredibly strong classmates can put up with anymore of the world looking in and demanding answers (when kyouka's tired and retreats into herself and doesn't respond to anyone but them, when shouto goes impossibly quieter and holds both of their hands in his trembling ones, when momo's mad and miserable and refuses to let either of them out of her sight.) it's not enought, sometimes. their friends hurt, and all the support they can give falls short every once in a while. it's not their fault, its just how it works.
just how it works when youre a hero, especially. and you give so much of your life to complete strangers, devote yourself to them.
only for them to spit that devotion back into your face - to look at you and declare that you're wrong and weird and don't belong. only for them to look at your entwined hands and scream at the top of their lungs that it's disgusting.
some days, all the support you can get isn't enough to counter that kind of hurt.
but they make do.
they pick themselves up. they stand up and reach for each other through all that hatred and they move on. their friends help, certainly, but its their job in the end - to get better, to want to get better. theyre stubborn, all three of them. momo's the voice of reason more often than not but she's just as bullheaded when it comes to the people she loves. so. theyre stubborn and determined and harsh, sometimes. they need to be to face everything head on.
but what really makes them stand up every single time is the softness that comes with it.
the warm cups of tea momo pushes in their hands and the blankets piling up and how she always looks for them first when entering a room - the way she takes care of them and lets them take care of her in return even if she's not used to it. even if it felt like being selfish at first. all that trust between them that's chanting let go let go let go, let us have you now.
and the endless playlists and jirou humming their favourite songs just to make them smile - the way she's loud about being there, about being part of them, and them answering every time with stilted, off beat lyrics, i hear you i hear you i hear you, we wouldn't sound half as lovely without you.
in sleepy mumbles and cuddles and the way shouto tries his best every single day to make them happy - the part of him that believes he's got to earn that love and the way it shrinks, over time, gets lost under all of the parts that echo love you love you love you, we're here you're never alone.
it's worth it - for a chance to wake and rest and live side by side. worth shouldering all that pain a million times over, for each other.
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joonberriess · 1 month
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w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s
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⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo
⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k
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It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.
The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?
Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.
But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.
Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?
You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.
“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.
“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.
“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.
“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.
“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.
It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.
You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”
“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.
You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.
It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.
After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.
It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.
Are they though? I don’t know.
“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”
Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.
“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”
Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.
Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?
Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”
“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.
“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”
Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”
“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.
“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”
Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”
Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”
You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.
Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”
“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”
He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.
“No.”
“y/n, don’t–”
“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.
+
It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.
You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.
“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.
“..y/n?”
“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.
“Where are you?” He softly replies.
“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.
“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”
You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.
“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.
“Yeah..”
“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.
The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.
“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.
Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.
“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.
You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.
“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”
You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.
You just wanted him.
“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.
“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.
“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”
He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”
“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”
“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”
You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”
And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?
“I know.”
“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.
You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”
Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”
“Okay..”
“Okay.”
+
You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.
Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.
It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.
Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.
Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?
There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.
“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”
“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.
“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”
“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.
You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.
“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”
“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.
Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).
It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.
“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”
“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.
“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.
“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”
Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”
“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.
“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.
jk: outside
You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.
“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.
“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.
“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.
“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.
He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.
That’s it.
.
The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.
It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.
You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.
“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.
“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.
You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.
Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.
“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.
He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.
The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.
“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.
You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.
“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.
“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.
Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.
Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.
“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.
Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.
“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.
Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.
You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.
“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.
Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.
“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”
“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.
Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”
You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.
“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.
“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.
“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.
He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..
“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.
He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.
“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.
You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..
“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.
You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.
Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.
+
“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.
Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”
“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—
“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”
Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—
Holy shit.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.
“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.
Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”
“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.
Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.
“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”
Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).
“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”
“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.
“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.
They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.
You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?
“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”
Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.
+
“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.
“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”
“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.
“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.
“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.
Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”
Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”
“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.
Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you��ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.
“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.
“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.
Yes, yes, yes—
“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?
Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”
“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.
You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.
you: come over
You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.
jk: rn?
you: yea, really want to see you
jk: me too.
read.
It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.
After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.
“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.
You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.
“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”
You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.
Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.
You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”
“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.
You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.
“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”
You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.
“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.
Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.
“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”
“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”
“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.
Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.
You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”
Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.
He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.
“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.
Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.
You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.
He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.
Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.
“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.
You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.
“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.
Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.
“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.
“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.
He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.
“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.
Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.
“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.
You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.
He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.
“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”
You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.
“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.
Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.
The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.
“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”
He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”
Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”
“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.
“No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”
It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.
“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.
“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”
It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.
Just you.
“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”
“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”
You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.
When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?
You fucked up, again.
+
Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.
“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”
“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”
They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.
You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.
The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?
‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’
Do it, do it, do it, they chant.
Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”
“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.
“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.
“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.
Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.
“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”
You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.
“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.
“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.
There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.
Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”
“It’s not like that–”
“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.
“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.
“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.
Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”
Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?
It makes you sick to your stomach.
“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.
Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.
All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?
As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.
“y/n–”
“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.
“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”
“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.
He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.
“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.
You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.
“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”
Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”
You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”
“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”
“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.
“Yeah, I guess so..”
He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”
You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.
For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.
+
One year later.
“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”
“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”
You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.
“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.
You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.
“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.
It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.
You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.
There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.
“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.
You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.
Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.
Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.
My love, I won’t wait for your love.
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas
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dante-mightdie · 1 month
Note
just a thought that i thought of after reading the angst fics 😖:
Pretend the guy who took her home was some rando she became close with at the bar, and that she told him about all her troubles and issues that she encountered with 141 recently. He comforted her and then they drank together yadayadayada he takes her home, the boys tuck her in despite them being mad, the cute “princess” moment, then morning.
When morning comes, they all talk it out, only catch is that now they’re back at square one when getting Reader to open up, and get intimate. Let alone even hug them.
Another catch is that they seemed more comfortable with literally anyone else BUT them. They all went out? Reader brings the guy friend to come along, then falls asleep on his shoulder accidentally, even though Gaz offered his shoulder first instead. They all are gonna cuddle and sleep in the same bed together and want Reader to join in? Reader opts for a plushed animal (The big plushies— Like a giant bear or shark) instead. It was like getting Ghost to let down his walls, just a little harder since instead of short answer “no’s” and grunts, they’d feel like they’re bullying Reader even though all they asked was want they want for breakfast.
Ex: *They all are talking, then Price turns to Reader* “Where do you wanna go out tonight, sweets?”
Reader: *literally sweating and looking at every other place thats not any of them, fiddling with their fingers as they mutter out a soft,* “Dunno.”
here’s a lil something something i’ve been thinking about
c/w: reader has trust issues, boys attempt to make amends, not a happy ending really but still more to come, panic, anxiety
it had been a stressful few weeks for you after that night at the bar
when the morning came, you woke up to find yourself in the centre of their bed. sheets all tangled with up in the knot of limbs made up by you and your lovers. heavy arms slung over your waist and sleeping faces smushed into the side of your neck
this may have been the norm for you a few weeks ago but with recent events, this makes you feel trapped. especially since you can’t recall the events of the previous night. your brain had switched off after your fourth daiquiri
you must have gotten hammered and crawled into the bed after hours, you think to yourself. must have gotten so lonely and desperate that you crawled into their bed. you have to get up and leave before they find you
you carefully pull their arms from you, untangling your legs with a painfully slow pace. no risky movements. when you think you’re just about to make it, you feel a strong arm snaking its way back around your waist and pulling you straight back into the flesh pile
“where’re you goin’, darlin’?” price grumbles in your ear, his prickly bread tickling your skin when he pushes his face back into the side of your neck. your eyes widen at the situation you’ve found yourself in
price perks up a bit, lifting his head when he feels you push at this arm wrapped around you like you want it off. he lifts his arm slightly for you. you twist and turn to get out of his grip, scrambling to your feet and watching him with a nervous expression
“woah, calm down. please don’t act like i’m going to hurt you, you know I’d never do that.” price says with a soft tone, hands out in surrender as you step away from the bed. he frowns at your skittery nature
“what happened last night? why am I in your room?” you ask, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. your hands feel soft cotton rather than the black silk you wore the night before and you look down to see one of soaps old band t-shirts, “did I put this on?”
the boys begin to stir awake at the sound of hushed voices. soft groans and joints clicking filling the room but you don’t take your eyes off of john’s. he seems sad, like you’ve just subtly devastated him
“you came home in a bit of a state so we bought you to bed. why’d you look so nervous, honey?” john coos, the rest of the boys are fully awake now, sat up and watching this scene unfold in front of them
feeling all those sets of eyes on you makes you close up, looking down at the floor and not saying a word. like you’re trying to make yourself small, hard to see and perceive
john climbs out of bed next, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head. “let’s go get something to eat, yeah? we all have a lot to talk about today.”
all you can do is stand rigid and stare at them with shock splattered on your face as they all climb out of bed, walk over to you and plant a kiss on your forehead before following john downstairs
you stare at the empty doorway for a few minutes before creeping downstairs, brow furrowed the whole time as you watch them move around in the kitchen. john grips your tense shoulders and nudges you into a seat before placing a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of you
johnny and kyle are setting the table, smiling at you and asking how you slept. playfully scolding you for drinking too much before popping a few painkillers in front of you. you feel like you’ve been placed in the middle of a tv sketch. like at any moment someone with a camera is gonna run out and tell you that you’re being punked
“how was your night out, darling? we see you made a new friend.” john gives you his classic close lipped smile, the one you used to tell him made him look like a quokka. you jerk away when you feel simon walk over, ruffle your hair and place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you wordlessly
“uh… it was… fine.” you mumble, staring down at the ceramic bowl. kyle connects his phone to the speaker, letting the kitchen become filled with morning news reports and music as they cook breakfast. you barely touch the food they put in front of you, your paranoid brain telling you that something bad was about to happen
they fill the tables with plates full of food, all the fixings for me a full-english and more. fruit and pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed juice, courtesy of kyle and that ridiculously expensive juicer that he asked john to buy him. they start helping themselves to the food, piling their plates high whilst you just sit there anxiously, hands kept firmly in your lap
your coffee has since gone cold, only taking one sip to help you wash down the painkillers. you can’t take it anymore. you don’t like how normal they’re acting, as if they haven’t spent the past few weeks putting you through hell at home,
“need to do the food shop today. why don’t you come with me, princess? we’ll pick up some lunch and sit in the garden. the weather is-“ john begins talking but you just cut him off
“what the actual fuck are you talking about, john?” you blurt out, hand coming up to silence him. everyone stops eating and turns to look at you. “have you lost the plot? why are you acting like everything is just normal?”
“I ken it’s been a difficult few weeks for ye, hen but we just want-“ johnny begins to speak, a frown tugging at his lips as he reaches his hand across the table to grab yours. you snatch it away, looking at him like he was insane
“I don’t give a fuck what you want!” you scoff, snatching your hand away before he can touch you, “I don’t know what joke you lot are playing on me but it’s not funny. I can’t- I don’t- just fucking stop, okay!?”
you struggled to find your words for a moment before bursting out, your lip wobbling and eyes welling up before you stand from the table abruptly. you turn on your feet and storm upstairs, going straight to your room and slamming the door
the second the it’s closed you slide down the wooden door, tears falling from your eyes as you bury your face in your hand. meanwhile, downstairs the kitchen is silent. cutlery placed firmly on the table, untouched as all the boys comprehend the situation they’re in
“we fucked up.”
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amsznn · 2 months
Note
Hey can you do one where the reader has a crush on Matt.She is very much giving heart eyes and tries to do anything to make him happy.Matt being oblivious complains to his brother about it.Nick and Chris smack some sense into him saying how lucky he is to have someone like us care about him.Matt disagrees and the reader hears this causing her to stop not wanting to make him uncomfortable.Matt misses the way things use to be and gets jealous when learning the reader is going out on a date.At the end they have an argument and he tells her how he really feels.Lots of angst in the beginning fluff towards the end please!!
OVERBEARING - m. sturniolo
warnings: slight cursing, angst at start, fluff at the end
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-
you couldn’t deny it anymore. and you dont think it went unnoticed either.
the lingering gazes, to the more than normal laughter at his jokes, or the constant acts of service. how you were willing to do anything for him. just him.
matthew sturniolo.
you thought your constant need to be near him was just you wanting to be better friends. that was until your feelings started growing stronger.
“y/n, helloo.”
you brought your attention to the voice you found yourself loving so much.
“sorry, what?”
“i asked if you could pass the remote.” matt repeated while settling down beside you on the couch. you nodded and reached over to grab the remote to hand it to him. it was around 1 AM, and it was just the two of you. nick and chris had went to their rooms while you and matt decided to watch a movie.
“want me to get you a blanket?” you whispered as matt stared at the screen to the opening of the movie.
“no, im good.” matt says. you nodded and turned your head towards the movie. about five minutes or so passed when you asked another question.
“hungry?”
“nope.” matt responds, adding a ‘pop’ to the p to exaggerate his response. you mumbled an ‘okay’. a few beats of silence passed before once again, you asked.
“are you sure-”
“y/n, please m’ just trying to watch the movie in peace.” matt sighed. he was getting frustrated by the second. after a long day of filming with his relatively loud brothers, the only sounds he wanted to hear were the actors on the tv.
but this was only one example of your persistence. you were always clung to matt’s side. following him like a lost puppy at all times.
always there to cook him up a meal after his long day, willing to do any of his chores that he just didn’t feel like doing, even soothing him to sleep on those tough nights where everything went blank.
nick would sometimes make fun of matt. it almost seemed like you were his mother with the way you acted. but thats not what you were trying to come off as. you simply just had a lot of love for the boy that you weren’t really ready to confess yet.
but for matt? he didn’t see your clinginess as a good thing, in fact he began to hate it once nick pointed it out.
on one particular day matt decided to bring it up to his brothers while they were in nick’s room.
“i just don’t get it, like she’s just always there.” matt says while pacing around the room.
“is that a bad thing?” nick asks while organizing the clothes in his closet.
“i mean it wouldn’t be if she didn’t act like im some sort of child.” matt sighed while plopping down at the edge of the bed.
“i dunno, i’d love to have someone like y/n. she literally does everything for you bro.” chris laughs while slightly nudging matt.
“yeah..” nick yells from his closet. “don’t know why you’re bitchin’ bout it she’s literally helps you with like…” nick took a pause to think. “everything!”
matt scoffs before shaking his head. “yeah well it’s nice before it gets fucking unbearable.”
unbeknownst to matt, you could hear this whole conversation. you had came to drop off some food for the triplets, and since you had an extra key you went straight in. now you would’ve made yourself known until you realized you were the topic of their conversation.
to say you were hurt from matts words was an understatement. you quickly rushed out of the house, tears streaming down your face recounting every scenario where you were overbearing.
-
hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. matt hadn’t heard from you in a while. he expected to wake up to your daily morning texts, but nothing. after he shrugged that off he expected you to come over like you usually did. but once again, you didn’t.
he found himself longing for your presence more than he ever did.
you both went no contact until you came over, seeking nicks assistance since you had a date that night in hopes that your little crush on matt would subside.
you had went the whole time without speaking to the brunette. opting for a simple ‘hey’. matt was confused. why were you suddenly so distant? sure he wanted space at times but this is not what he had in mind.
matt finally snapped when you attempted rushing out their house, bidding matt goodbye with a meek ‘see ya’.
matt rose from his spot on the catch before making his way towards you. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you gonna keep avoiding me?” matt said while crossing his arms on his chest.
you could only roll your eyes before slipping your shoes on. “i dont know what you’re talking about, but i have to go.” you spat harshly before spinning on your heel.
“woah, what’s up with you?” matt yelled, shocked at your sudden anger towards him. he pulled you back by your wrist so you could face him.
“y’know if you found me ‘overbearing’ you could’ve just told me.”
thats when everything came back to matt. instant regret washed over him as he gazed upon your solemn expression. the same eyes that used to hold so much adoration for him now hollow.
“i’m so sorry y/n. i know theres no excuse to what i said but i was just being stupid.” matt sighed while running a hand down his face. “you’re far from overbearing, in fact i...i really miss you.”
“really?” you mumbled while your facial expression softened. matt nodded before embracing you in a tight hug to which you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his waist. your date long forgotten.
“you’re amazing the way you are, and im sorry if i made it seem any other way.”
you smiled at matts words before leaning up to look at him. “just tell me next time, okay?” matt smiled and lightly pecked the side of your temple. happy to have finally gotten you back.
the version of you he loved.
and the version of you he would always cherish.
-
A/N: sorry this should’ve came out yesterday but i had to study for an exam. i have also been experiencing writers block but i have a new matt series in mind so stay on the look out for that!
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
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tvgals · 1 year
Text
‘ CHILL OUT ‘
— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader
synopsis — you see miles walking around campus with a girl you’ve never seen before and it sparks a new issue .
cw ; cheating, fluff to angst, hurt/no comfort, black! reader, reader literally doesn’t deserve this shes so sweet, watched good girls during this so i think that’s where this came from, made up characters
— ENJOY !!
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you watch as your boyfriend walked into the cafeteria with a girl you’d never seen before. a mid-length honey blonde wig on her head and her nails done with french tips. you synch your eyebrows together in confusion and you turn to your friends. “who’s that with miles?” you ask, subtly pointing to her. “oh, girl! that’s the new girl, her name is jess or something, i dunno.” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “aight.” you say, shrugging your own shoulders and scrolling through instagram. miles and jess get closer to your table and that’s when you can hear their conversation.
“i love your braids! who did them?” jess asks, running the tip of her fingers over them. “awe, my girl did ‘em for me. there she go right there.” miles says, taking a seat next to you. “y/n.” miles calls your name. you look up at him and smile. “hey miles. who’s this?” you ask, looking at her features. “jess. she’s new so i just showed her around a lil.” miles explains, pulling you into his frame. “ohhh…” you say, widening your eyes and nodding your head. “well, y’know, i really need help with the spanish homework, could you help me?” you ask coyly, batting you eyelashes up at him. “‘course, chica guap.” miles replies, bending down to kiss you.
“get a room!” you hear from one of your friends, taking a video to post on her story later. you giggle and miles opens up his phone. jess looks over and seems to perk up. “you got snap?” she asks, pulling her own phone out. “oh, yeah,” miles replies, “i don’t use it like that though. i don’t talk to people like that.” the bell rings and you and miles say your goodbyes and walk to spanish. “so,” you started. “so?” miles repeats, curiosity in his voice. “where’d you meet her at?” you ask, interlocking you and miles’ pinkie fingers while you two walk down the hallway. “she came up to me while i was walking into the school, asked me to give her a tour.” miles dismissed your question, now taking the lead in you twos walk to class. “oh.” you say, searching through the sides of your backpack with one hand trying to find your lipgloss. “what’re you looking for?” miles asks, opening the door so you can walk into your spanish class. “my lipgloss..i can’t find it..” you mumble, sitting yourself down and sitting your backpack on your desk.
“chill, mami. i can buy you some more.” miles soothes you, taking the desk next to you. you sigh and pull out your notebook and pencil. you watch the front of the room, bored while the teacher talks. within the first thirty minutes of class, miles had thrown six folded up notes to you and texted you over five times. you pull your phone out as discreetly as you could and scroll through the texts.
‘she found my snap bro’
‘swear ts annoying’
‘i ain’t even talk to her like that’
‘bro she’s texting my phone foe’
‘i’m finna block her ass’
‘respond 😒’
you look over at miles and roll your eyes playfully, texting back.
‘js block her?’
miles turns to you and gives you a straight face, looking down at his phone and ignoring the ping of the snapchat notifications. this is bothering you and you don’t know why. you and miles have been dating for over eight months now and you’ve never felt like this before. is it jealousy? maybe. you doubt it though. you leave it in the back of your head just for the bell to ring again, signaling the last class of the day. you pack your stuff up and wait on miles in the doorway. “she keep on texting my phone.” mines groans, shoving his phone in his pocket.
“maybe she got a lil crush.” you snicker, feeling miles playfully bump your shoulders together. “nah. don’t need no crushes, already got my girl.” miles grins, pulling you in for a hug then having to pull away almost immediately. “see you at my dorm?” you ask, walking slower than before. “yep.” and with that, you two parted your ways until 2:30. you and some of your friends meet in the hall and make your way to your classes. you were taking your time walking to class, until your friend brought up a topic. a sensitive one.
“y’know, it’s be funny if miles were cheating on you with that jess girl.” she laughed while everyone else went quiet. “what?” you ask, looking around confused. “it was a joke, damn. if you were in a loyal relationship you wouldn’t get so mad.” she clapped back almost immediately, as if she was waiting to say it for a while now. “what are you talking about? i am in a loyal relationship.” you argue, pulling your phone out to text miles. “little do you know.” she replies in a sarcastic tone. your purse your lips together and turn around, making your way to the bathrooms.
“you didn’t have to do allat.” another one of your friends said, sympathy laced in her voice like she was just confronted with her own boyfriend cheating. you made it to the bathroom and opened a stall, sitting on the toilet seat. you open your phone and text miles.
‘so that’s wtf we doing now?’
you sit and wait for a response, getting one almost immediately.
‘wym??’
‘i mean you cheating on me’
‘who told you ts?’
you sigh and start to feel tears well into your eyes. you loved him so so so much, you met his parents, you ate dinner at his house, you’ve spent the night, you’ve watched him cry, bleed — everything under the sun and this is how he repaid you.
‘you don’t need to know all that. we’re done bro. don’t come by my house, don’t call my phone, don’t call my momma phone, give me back my house keys, and delete my number.’
miles fucked up, and he knew it.
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taglist — @venusluvslove @traqstarlo @mangolog @ohmaiscool15 @ohsanghoe @iiilovemilfs @garnetj @guapaneeseb @nekoweb @samdwitch @cloudniteee @azadabts @elitesanjisimp @theyfwkayla14 @lennielane @kelesisworld @aaliyahlia-babyy @dorkmuffin27 @markleedreams @violxtbxbyy @pinkluvrr @yourrfavzxri @noraloralei @blackgirlontheblock
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yoonivy · 1 month
Text
symptom of your touch.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.
warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.
author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!
word count. 7k+
--
It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night. 
But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.
“Where is he?”
Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”
You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand. 
To Aegon — where are you????
You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”
You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”
You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”
“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator. 
After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”
You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That boy… I swear…” 
“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.
“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .
“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.
From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me
You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever. 
“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family. 
Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”
Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.
“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”
The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”
Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”
Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”
You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach. 
You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.
You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.
Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.
You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”
“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”
The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare. 
You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with. 
Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.
When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.
His first year away from home was good to him.
“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.
He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”
An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”
Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”
He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.
“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”
Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason. 
He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”
After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.
Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you. 
After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.
Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.
Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.
With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork. 
You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home. 
You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered. 
You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be. 
Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.
You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff. 
“I– alright…”
When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.
“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.
You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”
Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”
Your heart catches in your throat.
“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.
Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”
Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.
You should say no and go home. 
It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.
But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours. 
“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”
Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.
As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours. 
As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.
Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness. 
“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says. 
When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core. 
You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth. 
Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact. 
It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells…  you’re soaked.”
You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs. 
“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him. 
You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more. 
“Aemond, please…”
He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.” 
Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.
“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”
Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone. 
Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.
“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that. 
Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.
He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.
“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”
Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no. 
That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.
But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.
And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.
You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away. 
As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before. 
His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.
You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.
Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you. 
He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you. 
Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.
“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.
“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again. 
There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away. 
So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.
When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.
“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door. 
After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.
You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you. 
“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase. 
Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.
“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.
But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”
You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.
“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more. 
He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.
He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.
“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”
To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips. 
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”
Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.
You’re greedy. So greedy. 
You love the way Aemond makes you feel.  
He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.
You revel in it. 
Greedy. Greedy. Greedy. 
“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”
Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.
You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry —  you don’t know why but that’s how you like it. 
(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)
At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second. 
Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.
Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again… 
It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.
--
You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning. 
Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.  
Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you. 
“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips. 
“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.
Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch. 
Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.
You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.
“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face. 
“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.
You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”
Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.
Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”
Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt. 
As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.
It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.
“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”
“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”
“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”
In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.
Aemond already knows who it is. 
It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.
Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother. 
“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.  
Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.
Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.
But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
--
Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles. 
He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen. 
When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him. 
He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.  
It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him. 
You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while. 
Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.
All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”
Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”
Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry. 
Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.
“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.
“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”
“And you think I want to know?”
“Just– tell me–”
“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known. 
Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger. 
“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.
Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.
Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”
You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”
Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.
And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.
--
Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.  
Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her. 
He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to. 
It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago. 
But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young. 
Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.  
Rinse and repeat. 
The cycle will never end. 
Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority. 
Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings. 
But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen. 
“Hey, are you ready yet?”
Speak of the devil…
Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it. 
“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.
Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”
Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”
Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.
Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?” 
Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?
“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”
With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.” 
Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit. 
Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically. 
Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop. 
Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head. 
“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”
At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even. 
“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”
Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”
Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated. 
So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.
With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing. 
“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”
Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”
Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.
--
It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there. 
When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them. 
Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.
Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.
That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.
So pretty, like a shining star.
So close, yet so out of reach.
Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder. 
With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.
With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.
As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.
In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,
You do?
Aegon nods. 
Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns. 
It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.
And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life. 
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. 
When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.
When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.
But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.
Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.
Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.
Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit. 
And Aemond? 
He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.
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cys-fic-library · 1 month
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Nighttime Affairs (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Reader)
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You and the Ghoul, Cooper Howard, have a complicated relationship with each other. One which involves him paying you some nightly visits when he passes on by that little home of yours out in the lonesome wasteland.
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Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, bit of orgasm denial, bit of dirty talking, creampie, biting (its cooper i dunno what you expect, he's going to bite you), oral - reader receiving, complicated relationship, bit of yearning/pinning, fluff, cuddling, kissing, splash of angst, not beta read
Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x gn!afab!Reader (reader's gender is never mentioned but they do have a vagina)
Wordcount: 4256
a/n: made the smut a bit angsty at the end there by mistake. whoopsie daisies. Anyway, like it says above readers gender is never mentioned. But they do have a vagina (because I have a vagina, and I want to fuck the ghoul). Nothing about reader's chest is ever mentioned either. Also I usually write fluff/non smut fics, and only tend to post that. I have written smut before, but this is just my first time actually sharing some of it. So like ;-; Okie dokie? okie dokie.
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics (much love j ❤️)
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Nights in the wasteland were always a deadly affair. All sort of creatures made themselves known—both human and non-human alike—never having the friendliest of tendencies. It was why you always made sure that your windows remained boarded up. Double checking the door of your home to be firmly locked, before finally making your way to bed.
You always kept a gun hidden beneath your pillow as you slept. Easy to grab in case of a break in. Acting like a sort of safety blanket. Hoping that such a comfort would help you sleep soundly, though most nights you still found it difficult. Restlessness haunted you. Plagued your mind. Never truly able to rest easily—not with danger lurking around ever dark corner. 
 Sometimes that unease proved helpful. Such as tonight, while on the brink of sweet slumber, there had been a shift in the room. The sound of worn floorboards creaking jolting you awake. It wouldn’t be the first time some wanderer had tried to get the jump on you in the middle of the night. 
Hand quick to grab your gun, you point it at the new body in the room. Adrenaline pumping in your veins. Heart on edge. Ready to fire at a moment's notice. 
“Easy there sweetheart.” 
Your tired eyes blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear away your sleep clouded vision enough to properly comprehend the familiar figure currently standing in the center of your tiny room. 
“Cooper?” 
The Ghoul grinned at you in the darkness. Hazel eyes almost seeming to shine from the moonlight that managed to filter in. His head had tilted to motion to the gun in your hand. An amused hum leaving him. “Bit of a rude way to greet your guests.” 
“Wouldn’t call you much of a guest.” You lowered the gun and rubbed at your face with a sigh. “More of a nuisance if anything.” 
“Aw, your words wound me darlin’.” His words drawn out and mocking, as he feigned being hurt, before he had turned from you to continue removing his gear. Setting it all wherever he liked in your room. Acting almost as if he owned the place. Not a care in the world that he was currently invading your home uninvited. Again. 
You could only seem to roll your eyes as you watched him. “What are you doing here so late?” 
“Oh just passin’ through.” The Ghoul said with a casual hum. Pulling out his own gun, its barrel glinting just as his gaze had earlier, before he set it on your nightstand. The tossing of his hat onto your bedpost quickly following. “Needed a place to stay.” 
It hadn’t been a question. He wasn’t asking. Never really did when he chose to invite himself into your home. It used to scare you way back when you first met the Ghoul. You never knew if the next time he came would be the one where you met with a bullet. 
But you learned quickly that Cooper only ever did what he felt he needed to. Wouldn’t take the life of someone he found to be useful. He didn’t kill pointlessly like that. Everything had a reason with him. Even if you couldn’t quite see it at first. 
“Well why don’t just make yourself at home then.” You grumbled. Annoyed. A bit more bite to your words then usual. Though it hadn’t seemed to phase him in the slightest. 
“Already on it sweetheart.” 
You glared at him, but he continued to barely pay any mind to it. As you went to put your own gun back beneath the pillow, you had laid down again. Rolling to face the wall, and letting out a tired breath, as you tried to settle. Let the exhaustion claw at your mind and allow your eyes to flutter close. Trying to ignore him just as he did to you. “Just don’t make a mess.” 
The Ghoul hadn’t replied. Which had been a surprise. He always seemed to have something to say. But there was none of that. Instead there was only the sound of more shuffling in the room before the bed finally shifted with his added weight. Pulling you back from the brink of sleep just enough, as he joined you among the tattered sheets.
 Your bed was cramped. Meant for only a single soul, and yet that never seemed to bother him as he fit himself in how he liked. It didn’t take very long for you to feel the press of his cool body against yours. An arm finding itself around your waist, as lips sought out your neck and trailed over your skin. 
“Sleeping.” You said. Quiet. But still you shifted. Legs parting ever so slightly. An invitation you knew he wouldn’t refuse. 
You allowed him to take what he wanted—his true reason for being here—and he did so greedily. Without any ounce of hesitation, bare fingers smoothing down and slipping past the waistband of your pants into their front. Immediately finding the prize he wanted. Your breath hitching as they ghosted over your clit. Teasing. 
“Then sleep.” Lips caressed your ear. His breath hot on your skin. Rough hands had molded you into his liking. Feeling yourself growing wet beneath his fingers all too quickly, as two of them slipped into your heat at first chance. “Don’t bother me, none.” 
Desire bloomed inside you. Arousal coiling tight. He left marks where he could. Harsh kisses that had teeth grazing your skin. Fingers moving inside of you to pull any sound from your lips that he could. Touching you in ways that had you burning, as if you would be engulfed in flames at any second. Toying with your body and purposely bringing you so close to the edge without ever actually bothering to send you over. 
“Stop teasing.” You had shifted again. Trying to provide more space for his devilish hands.  Moving yourself against him to seek the feeling you so desired—that last bit of pleasure that he denied you so easily, and would continue to do so. 
“I thought you were sleeping.” His words had a teasing tone to their depths, as he nipped at your skin. Pressing himself closer. Grinding. His own arousal hard against your hip. Just as worked up as you were it seemed. But somehow still not nearly as desperate. 
“Was trying to.” You sighed out a moan. Leaning impossibly close into him. Hand gripping at his wrist tight as he worked you. Letting his touch consume your very being. “Hard to sleep with someone messing around in my pants.” 
The Ghoul chuckled. “Well let’s fix that then.” 
And suddenly his hands were slipping away. 
You felt your eyes open at the loss of him. Hadn’t even realized they were still closed until that moment. You had gone to protest. Reaching out in the darkness to try and stop him from leaving. But he hadn’t gone far. He had moved you to lay fully onto your back before you could really react. Your pants and underwear removed by him in an instant. Lost to the dark depth of your room's floor. Not to be seen again until morning light. 
The Ghoul loomed over you. Eyes amused, and hands gripping your thighs. He spreads your legs out for himself wide. Exposing your arosural bare before his gaze into the open room. Fitting himself comfortably in between. Almost like there was nowhere else he belonged in the world. Ready to devour you whole. 
And what was worse is that you’d gladly let him do so too. 
“Fucking filthy thing you are.” He had whistled as he looked down at the debauched display he had made of you already. Fingers moving below to run along your dripping lips. Sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. “You’re soaking and yet I’ve barely done a thing.” 
You couldn’t help but squirm a bit beneath him. He hadn’t bothered to remove any of his own clothes, save for the jacket and gloves he must have tossed somewhere in your room. He never really did remove his clothes when fucked you. Couldn’t remember anytime you had even seen him without a shirt. 
At first you thought he had been shy over his predicament. He wouldn’t have been the first ghoul you met to have struggled with the change after all. But that had been a foolish thought, because Cooper Howard wasn’t ever shy. It was just another thing he couldn’t be bothered with. 
It wasn’t worth it to him to remove, simply put. Probably even still had his boots on at the moment. Trucking sand and only god knows what into your bed. You’d usually lecture him for it. But like with many things tonight, he wouldn’t give you the chance. 
Before you knew it he had leaned down to put his mouth on you. Sucking at your clit. Lips and tongue working you in all the right places. Fingers gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. Devouring you whole, almost like he had been starved for days. 
It didn’t take much of this for you to be brought to that edge. It had been so long since you last saw him—last had him—and his skillful tongue had your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your one hand fisting the sheets below while the other reached for his scarred head. Pulling him in impossibly close. Trying to keep him there. But true to his nature just as you felt those sparks begin to fly he stopped. Lips leaving you and letting your pleasure fall. Hot breath only fanning over your soaked folds. 
He did this often. Riled you up to the point of breaking. Allowing your pleasure to grow high before sending it crashing down again suddenly. Denying that bliss you always found yourself so desperate for when with him. 
Most nights you were brought to tears by it. Begging him to let you have that sweet release. Frustration with his teasing at its peak. Tonight you did not beg or plead though, not yet at least, instead you sat up to lean onto your elbows. Insult for him at the tip of your tongue, ready to lecture him for all he was worth, but any complaint you had quickly died in your throat.
 The Ghoul had bit your thigh. Hard. Whether to silence you, or just because he wanted to, you didn’t know. You just gasped. Trying to pull away, though his hands remained firm. Fingers digging into your skin almost too harshly and holding you in place. Only finally pulling back just enough to swipe his tongue over the mark he left. 
You had winced from the pain, the mark aching, but despite it your arousal only seemed to course through you still. Stronger even. “That was just mean.”
“You like when I’m mean.” He smirked as he sat up again to overlook you. Your blood still staining his lips. “Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Remember?” 
“Yeah and who’s fault is it that I’m not?” 
“No idea what you mean sweetheart.” The Ghoul had let go of your legs then. Leaning back onto his knees to free himself. Belt unbuckling to pull out his aching cock. Squeezing himself briefly before guiding it to your drenched hole. Teasing at your folds.  “Just here enjoying what was given to me after all.” 
It was quick the way he entered. No ceremony or grace. No time to say another single word between you two. Barely gave time for you to gasp again. Sending a shock through your system. He didn’t wait. Thrusts downright filthy as he took you all for himself. Both of your moans and heated breaths filling the room. The air suddenly feeling suffocating and hot. 
Your hands had gripped at his forearms, hoping to ground yourself and failing miserably, all while his own fingers dug into your hips. You tried to meet his own cruel thrusts, but the rhythm he had set  was unrelenting. Pleasure all too consuming. He was right. You liked when he was mean. Liked how rough he was—enjoying how he just took and took from you. He filled you in ways that you knew ruined you for anyone else. And yet still you loved it all so very much. 
You were getting close again. Could feel your peak just at the horizon. Waiting to burst. You moved your hand. Fingers desperate to finally bring yourself that last bit of pleasure to send you over the edge that you’ve desired all night. The one he’s been denying you all evening. But of course he notices immediately. Knocking your hand away before you get any chance. 
“Not yet.” 
You all but whine at his words. Almost pathetically so. Tears finally prickling at the corner of your eyes from being denied by him once again. “Cooper.” 
“You know the rules.” He thrusts a little more roughly as if to punish you. A warning. “You take what I give you.” 
“Please.” 
“Look at you, the mess you are.” He groans out at your begging. Eyes burning hot with desire. Thrusts still unwavering.  “You’d let me do whatever I want to you if it meant I fucked you, wouldn’t you?” 
He had chuckled as you could only seem to nod. Clinging to him. Any kind of words from your lips caught between gasps and moans. You were so overwhelmed. The air was too hot. Everything felt too much but too little at the same time. And it was all because of him. The Ghoul who seemed all too good at taking you apart piece by piece. The mess you were was his fault, and he knew it—reveled in it.
 You could never seem to get enough of him, and he knew it too. He could give you everything or nothing, and you’d still thank him for each little bit of it. He was the same. Even if he would never admit it. He always needed more of you. Both of you were addicted to the other. Needed to feel him just like he needed to feel you. Like a chem neither of you could shake. Didn’t want to shake. 
Cooper’s thrusts had begun to grow sloppy now. His breathing more ragged. Hands squeezing your hips so tightly you were sure to bruise by morning. Your head was swimming. Drowning in the pleasure and losing it in the feeling of him. Mind too far gone to think of anything else. A mere mess of moans and gasps, as tears streamed down your cheeks. So close to unraveling at the seams for him. All just for him. 
When he reached his end he didn’t give you any kind of warning save for a low moaned fuck. Making sure to thrust into you deeply. As far as he could go. His cum filling you to the brim as he did. It was only then when his fingers found your clit again. Rubbing the nub in harsh brutal circles that finally sent you crashing over as well. Ripping your orgasm from your body like he was owed nothing less. 
“There you are, take all of me.” He groaned out as you squeezed and clenched around him. Breathless. Eyes watching how you came undone. Making sure to take in every bit of you that he could as you lost it beneath him. “Come for me darlin’.” 
Your nerves felt on edge as the pleasure wrecked through your system. Body shaking while you could only seem to cling to him tighter. Hands fisted into his shirt and your legs squeezing around his hips, trapping his form to yours all while riding out your orgasm. 
It wouldn’t be until the high began to dwindle where your mind would begin to clear again. A gentle throb at your core. Your body relaxed in his arms, limbs growing heavy, and breath beginning to return. The night's air starting to feel cool against your heated skin. 
He hadn’t pulled out yet. Just stayed inside with the mess he made, as you both came down from your pleasure. Your oversensitive walls still clinging to his softening cock despite how completely wrecked you felt. Eventually you had almost felt sticky laying there—covered in your own sweat and grim. You tried to move away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, but the hand he still had on your hip stopped you. Squeezing gently. 
“Cooper-” You had begun to question him, eyes fluttering open and looking to Ghoul who still hovered above, but found yourself unable to finish when you finally met his gaze. Breath and words caught in your throat all over again. 
Intense. Soft. There was a strange feeling that swarmed there in his eyes. Something you weren’t quite used to seeing from him. Something you just couldn’t place. It surprised you when he leaned in. Made your heart flutter—stomach flip—as his lips found yours. 
The Ghoul rarely kissed you, and when he did it was rough. All teeth and bite, just like everything else about him, but this kiss wasn’t anything like that. There was an odd softness to it. So gentle, and unlike anything you had ever shared with him before, but it was good all the same. Left your heart feeling like it was going to fall out of your chest right then and there.  
 It had all been fleeting though. That fluttering feeling. That sweet kiss. Lips pressed to yours only for a moment before they were gone again. Like it had never happened in the first place. Just another piece of memories from him to add to your imagination. Never to be addressed. 
There wasn’t a word spoken between you as he finally pulled out from your sensitive walls. The touch of his body—his hands—leaving you, as he moved to settle at your side again. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t help lull your head over to gaze at him. Still stuck in that dreamlike feeling. Watching. Quiet as he leaned over the bedside to rummage around in his bag. Pulling out the vials you had seen him take so many times by now. 
You still hadn’t a clue to what they were really. Knew it kept him from going feral, but beyond that you knew nothing. Which is how he liked things typically. He never told you too much. That’s just what it was always like between you two. You hadn’t even known his name till quite recently. 
It was during one of the last few times he had visited, if you recalled. Between moans and bated breaths. Pleasure so close to reaching its peak when he first told it. Cooper. You still remember how desperate he sounded. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone from the Ghoul you were beginning to know so well.  Name’s Cooper darlin’. And you’d never forget the way he practically crumbled to pieces as you said the name back. Soul exposed to you in ways you never thought possible with him. 
Honestly, you didn’t even think he had a soul until that moment. 
The Ghoul hadn’t been back for months after that night. For reasons you could only guess at. There was a point where you didn’t think he’d ever be back to seek you out again. But of course he was always full of surprises. Almost half a year passed until you saw him again at your doorstep. Acting as if nothing had happened since last, like he hadn’t been gone far longer then he ever had before. Familiar bite and taunting words greeting you fondly. All back to his normal self—or what was normal of him to you at least. 
“Cooper?” 
He inhales the chem. Doesn’t pay you any mind in the slightest. Which is fine. Doesn’t stop yourself from shifting closer to him. Allowing for one of your hands to trail up his chest. You feel him pausing briefly at your touch, and your eyes meet his as he glances your way. He’s unreadable as he gazes at you, hazel eyes holding yours for a mere second, before they’re focusing back to his life saving vials. 
He doesn’t go to stop you though, so you take the chance to tuck yourself into his side. Head resting on his chest. Your eyes feeling heavy once more as you do. But still you don’t sleep yet. Not when you know how little time you have left with the Ghoul. So instead your fingers draw shapes over him, and play with the button of his shirt he still never bothered to remove. 
“Thought I told you to fuckin’ sleep.” His voice brings you away from your thoughts, as he finishes up with his chem. Sounding almost annoyed, probably was, he’s not one for showing much bouts of affection after all. Doesn’t even really like when you’re clingy either. But somehow that still doesn’t stop his free arm winding itself around your waist. Holding you close.  
“Cooper…” 
“Sleep.” The Ghoul’s voice had been quiet but firm. He had pulled his hat from the bedpost to wear again, tugging it to rest over his closing eyes. “Some of us got shit to do in the morning.” 
You didn’t bother to point out how he had been the one disturbing you up till this moment. There was no point in arguing with him though. He wouldn’t listen—a stubborn bastard through and through. 
Not that you could find a good reason to do so anyway. Especially not with how your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, or how comforting it felt laying there in his arms. Listening to his breathing. His very subtle heartbeat somehow loud to your ears. 
When sleep finally took you it would be peaceful for once. Something about knowing the Ghoul was there made you feel calm. Even though you knew that it should have been the opposite. He was deadly. Could kill you in a second. But somehow that hadn’t bothered you in the slightest. Not anymore, at least. Instead it made you feel at ease.
 Safe.
The sun would be barely rising as you woke to the early light. Gentle rays illuminating your small room in a warm orange glow. You had stretched, yawning, before naturally going to feel for the Ghoul that had invaded your home last night. His spot had been empty, of course, long grown cold now that he didn’t occupy its space. 
He never stayed for long. Any night he spent with you he was always gone before you ever had the chance of waking. It’s just how he was. How things were meant to be between you two. You had understood since the very beginning, all those years ago when first taking him into your bed. 
And yet still your fingers ran over the spot. An ache settling in your heart. You knew there was no reason to be sentimental. There was no reason to miss something that wasn’t truly yours. But there was a part of you that did. A piece of you that wanted more than this—wanted what you couldn’t truly have for yourself. 
The Ghoul, Cooper Howrad. You wanted him. More than just for sex. His heart, his soul. You wanted it all. Every piece of him. Craved it even. More than you ever desired something in your entire life. That thought of being his, and him being yours rattling around in that silly little heart of yours. 
He’d never allow it. 
Sighing, you pulled your hand away from his spot and sat up. Wincing. You had almost forgotten about it. The bite mark he left on your thigh still painful. Carefully you looked it over. He hadn’t taken a chunk out of you. Thankfully. Just left you looking like some sort of chew toy like he usually did. 
It wasn’t worth a stimpak. Not like you’d ever consider using one anyway for such a minor injury. It would be a waste otherwise, and being wasteful out here meant death even on a good day. 
Sometimes you wondered if that was why he marked you up so much. As if he knew you wouldn’t bother to heal them so quickly. You wondered if he enjoyed knowing that your body carried signs of him for days. Bites and bruises like some sort of possessive claim. Every mark from him a reminder of just who exactly had left them there in the first place. 
You doubted it all the same though, he probably just thought it was fun to bite and mark you up. Probably did it to everyone he spent the night with. You were sure there were others. Even if he’s never said so, you weren’t dumb enough to think otherwise, as sad as it made you to think about sometimes. 
Leaving bed, your morning would end up being the same as any other. You’d get yourself ready, tidy up the room, and eat what little food you had. After you’d work the day away. Maybe even head into town for a little bit before heading back home. The simple mundane routine so natural to you now that it went about like clockwork. Doing what you needed to survive before the sun would fall again. The moon taking its place easily in a sky painted by shining stars. 
And as you’d lay in bed once more. You’d look out to the wasteland through those cracks in the boarded window. Wondering if he’d show, eyes searching for any kind of sign of him. Waiting—hoping—for the Ghoul to arrive again. 
But of course, he wouldn’t.
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tan1shere · 3 months
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Look after you
Ellie Williams x female reader !
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A/n: currently in the situation where I was slightly drunk earlier, my ass passed tf out for a good 4 hours 😭 but like I woke up and my head slightly hurts (I found out that I had spilt some of my drink in my hair- it was a night ill say that 😃) and it made me think how Els would be while taking care of her drunk girlfriend. Hope you guys like this regardless, I kinda made this more comforting as I need that right now fr 😔✊🏻
Summary: Ellie taking care of her drunk girlfriend, but why is she even drunk in the first place ?
Warnings: drinking, swearing ? Slight angst in a way ??? Mentions of depression. Just cute fluffyness tho :) - this is set in where they are still in that little town ♡
Masterlist
The smell of alcohol was all that could be smelt in the small bar you and Dina were at. You two decided to go out for the night, the both of you getting absolutely wasted. When Jesse came to pick the both of you up he was shocked at the two of you for drinking so much. "You two are insane." He said as he walked with you guys. "I'm so sane." You'd slur. Which earned a hum from Dina. "I'm going to Ellies, later." You said as you stumbled off. You go over to her little garage of a home, just clumsily opening the door. Everything was spinning, your mind was so dizzy but oh boy did you feel good. As you enter you see Ellie on her bed reading a comic. She looks up at you. "Oh Jesus you look drunk as a skunk." She begins to get up. "I dunno what you're on about." You mumble, heading over to her couch feeling as if your legs were about to give out. She sighs. "Did Dina get this wasted too?" You don't answer only shrug.
She awaits for an answer when she hears giggling, she looks at you slumped on the sofa, laughing like a little weirdo. It only makes her smile tho. "Come on, let's get that makeup off." You look at her as she speaks. "Noo I'm comfortable!" You say, moving slightly on the old couch. "And I'm not taking 'noo' for an answer, I know you. You'll hate yourself in the morning." You groan, but still staying in your spot. "Don't make me come over there." She begins to walk over, when suddenly you feel a presence on top of you. "Ughhh get off." You weakly try to push her, this just makes her laugh. "That's cute. But don't make me have to bring it over here, I'll go into the bathroom and grab those cloths don't put it past me." She puts a finger in your face, you then look at it, going to bite it gently. "Ay!" She exclaims pulling it away. This makes those previous giggles return.
"You're such a fucking menace you know that." You hum as she says that. "You love my menaceness." She shakes her head at you. "That's not even a word, you drunkie." You open your eyes up fully to look at her. "Well I made it one." Ellie rolls her eyes at how silly that statement was, making her laugh once again. She gets up eventually going to leave for the bathroom. "Nawww." "Stop your whining I'll be right back." Your drunken mind finds that funny, starting to smile and giggle as you replay her words in your brain. "You loveeee when I'm whiney." She raises her brows, coming over to you with a warm cloth. "Don't start with me Missy." She says as she sits on the couch, moving your legs so they're resting on her lap. "You didn't deny it." You sing. "If you don't shut up now you really will be whining."
You give her a silly little glare. But it did make you shut up. She begins to bring the face cloth over your makeup, wiping slightly. You being your annoying drunk self goes to swat her hand away. "You little monster." "Hey! I'm not little." You huff, but she ignores all these antics going for your face again. "No. No touching, I'm not even speaking to you right now." Which puts a smile on her face because you were indeed speaking to her. "Is that so? May I know why?" You shake your head. "No, you figure it out since you're so big and smart." You huff again. "Cuz I called you little huh?" You just give her a look. "God you're pleasant when you're drunk." She says sarcastically. "Say you're sorry for calling me short and then you can do whatever it is you were doing." She gives you a be for real look, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. Knowing you are drunk still, just going to do so anyways.
"I'm so very sorry I called you little. There." You ponder for a second. "Nope, didn't say what i told you to." This makes her let out a huff. Earning a cheeky smile on your face. "God you're trouble." "Say it." You giggle. "I am so incredibly sorry that I called you short. Happy?" She says. "Yes very." You could feel the tiredness taking over, she notices. "Come on, let's sit up." She goes to try and get you to do so, making you groan as your head started to hurt from the dizziness. Not long after she was done with taking your makeup off, going into the bathroom to put the cloth on the small railing she had. When you suddenly felt like- "Ellie.." You began. "Yes my drunkie." But she didn't realize you had gone serious as your tone was still slurred. She comes out to look at you. "Baby?" Her brows furrow. "I think I'm gunna-" you don't even need to finish that sentence before she's over there helping you up and into the bathroom where you immediately puke in the toilet.
The groan you let out makes her heart hurt as she knows you hate puking. She holds your hair back as you continue to chuck up your guts, feeling slight tears spring from your eyes. "I hate puking." She gets on the floor with you. "I know babygirl. I'm sorry I got home so late tonight, even tho that doesn't matter I should've gone down to see you." There was a silence as she began to stroke some hair out of your face. "Whyd you drink so much love." She asks softly, you just shrug in return. Honestly you don't know why. You'd been feeling a little off lately and you thought this night with Dina, having some drinks would ease the slight sadness inside you, but if anything it's made you feel worse. "Talk to me sweetheart." That makes you look at her, feeling tears again. This time they were genuinely sad ones, not out of pain from puking.
"I don't know whats wrong with me." You sob, one thing Ellie hates is when you cry, she just wishes she could take that pain away for you. "Nothings wrong with you my girl, nothing." She says, cupping your face gently. "I don't even know why I'm sad, i- I have no reason to be." You hiccup not only from the crying but also from the fact your still just a tiny bit drunk. Which makes her say this. "Why don't we talk about this when you're fully with it yeah? I think you've had a long night and rest is the best thing right now." You nod, agreeing. "I'm going to get you some water ok?" You let out a small mhmmm in understanding. Getting up with her. She walks you over to her bed, carefully laying you down on your side, brushing any loose hair out of your face and making sure your comfortable. She came back with a glass, getting you to sit up a bit and drink it. But you were worried to, as you didn't want to puke again.
"Drink it, please. You lost alot of fluids you need it." You know you do, but it wasn't easy. "I promise you won't puke, why don't you suck on some ice instead." This makes you feel happy inside. "Ice chips?" She smiles at you. "Ice chips." All you wanted was to give her a big hug and a kiss. She truly knew you and you couldn't thank her enough for being such a great girlfriend. "I love you Ellie." She grabs your hand smiling more. "I love you baby. Let me get the ice hm?" You nod softly at her words. As she goes to get it you sit and think. You really didn't know why you were so upset inside lately. Maybe it was the dull weather or another one of your depressive episodes. You did miss Ellie though, she has been so busy lately you feel like you haven't really been with her. Maria always getting her to go on patrols, poor Ellie never has a day off, even if she loves what she does everyone needs a break from time to time.
She comes back over with a tiny bowl and some small ice chunks. "Here you go pretty girl." You thank her going to suck on the first one. She sits on the bed just looking at you admiringly, putting any annoying piece of hair out of your face. "Els?" "Hmm?" She hums gently. "Why don't you have a day off from patrol baby." She softens her look as you say that. "Get Maria to ask someone else, you're always working your ass off." And it all clicked on why you said what you said earlier. "I'm so sorry." You get a bit confused by her apology. "I should've seen you were getting depressed again." That makes you look into your lap fiddling with your hands, but she grabs them. "Look at me baby." And you do. "From now on I'll take the breaks i need and to spend that time with you. I realize I do work alot, and I don't really need to- but I'll tell her that from now on." You nod.
"It worries me Els." She shakes her head. "I don't ever want you to worry about that-" "but it does baby. I see how worn out you are. Take tomorrow off, please?" Which she immediately nods to. "Ofcourse, I was going to anyway. Gotta look after my hungover girl don't I?" You smile at her. "I'm still sorry tho my love. I never ever want you to feel lonely inside, and seeing you cry earlier broke me. I hate seeing you cry." You hold her hand tighter. "I'll be okay, I've got my amazing protector." She smiles big. "Dina." You try not to let out a laugh at Ellies offended face. "I'm kidding I'm kidding." "You better be, I don't see her here looking after you, do you?" You smile more. "No. Ofcourse I meant you silly." She just smiles now. "Ok good, cuz I'm just that amazing." She says, putting her arm up showing her muscle. "And your protector." That makes you laugh more going to punch her arm. "You goofball." She gives you a small glare. "Ow that hurt." She tries to look sad but she immediately laughs, making you join in with her.
Ellie then wipes the left over tears from before. "So it's a plan, no more working overtime when I truly don't need to, and spend all that time with my special girl." Nodding, as you smile. "It's a plan." "Good." She goes to lean into kiss you but you pull back, leaving her stunned. "I have puke breath.." She just lets out a pft noise. "Good God woman, I've watched you pee and crap before, a little puke isn't going to gross me out, not to mention I literally watched you hurl." You playfully roll your eyes. "You're mad." "For you? Fuck yeah." Your smile hasn't been so big in a long time. You were glad to be back. And so was Ellie.
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Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)
PLEASE
🥰
(If possible?)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs
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content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????
lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr
you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???
until his quest - well, failed quest
he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in
chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter
chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.
you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin
and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems
after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you
he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose
he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it
then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand
"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy
luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises
you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush
"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong
you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin
you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy
"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags
"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom
"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his
a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands
he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head
but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin
"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket
but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart
and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin
for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him
not with the defender of REM cycle there
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sanguineterrain · 1 year
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i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.
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Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.
Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 8.8k
Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.
A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all <3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!
divider by firefly-graphics
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August 1981
"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."
You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing. 
"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."
He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard. 
"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."
"I'll help you with your work," you say. 
Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted. 
"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."
Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it. 
"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."
"You think?" 
You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again. 
"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks. 
The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face. 
"Why wouldn't we?"
"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."
You shove Steve's shoulder lightly. 
"You are not dumb, Steve."
One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.
He had made you swear not to tell anyone. 
"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."
His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you. 
"Tommy says I am."
"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."
You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you. 
“Promise?” he asks.
“Yes, Steve. I promise.”
“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.” 
You nod and lay back on the floaty. 
“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks. 
“Just us?” 
“Just us.”
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Now. (January, 1987)
You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you. 
Whoops. Right. You're still at work. 
You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing. 
You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink. 
And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it? 
Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar. 
“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”
Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.
“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”
“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.
“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."
The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.
“Who’s gonna make me? You?” 
You lean against the side of the game, considering.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” he says.
You snort. 
“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”
He glances at you. 
“So?”
“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.” 
You wink at Dustin. He beams.
“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add. 
The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently. 
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”
Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway. 
You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight. 
“You’re awesome, Y/N!" 
You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”
Dustin sours.
“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?” 
“No way!"
He shakes his head.
“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”
You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”
“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot. 
“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again." 
You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young. 
Dustin shrugs, starting the game.
“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”
“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”
“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”
“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."
You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town. 
"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."
"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."
“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."
"Would I now?"
"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered." 
"Wow. Impressive."
"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”
“You would?”
The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.
“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”
“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."
“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”
“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”
Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.
“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”
"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."
"'Kay!"
Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family. 
"Who do I ask for?" 
"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"
"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"
"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."
Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck. 
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The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.
"Can I help who's next?"
You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!
"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says. 
"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?" 
You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler. 
She nods in realization. 
"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."
You wince. 
"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"
Her brows raise. She smiles a bit. 
"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"
"Pretty in Pink," you say. 
"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"
"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."
She grins.
"Me too. She's pretty."
"Super pretty," you agree. 
The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand. 
"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."
You take her hand. "Y/N.”
"Did you go to Hawkins High?"
"I did. Graduated last year."
"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"
You nod. 
"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."
"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"
"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."
You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest. 
"How come?" she asks. 
"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."
Robin smiles sympathetically. 
"They're jerks," she says. 
You huff. "Yeah."
You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore. 
Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans. 
"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."
"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from. 
She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass. 
You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on. 
The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures. 
"Have you been waiting long?"
You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter. 
Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font. 
He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles. 
"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."
You blink.
"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye. 
"No," you manage. 
"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?" 
He doesn't remember you. 
You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.
And he doesn't remember you. 
"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.
You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve. 
"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."
"I have to go," you say. 
You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin. 
Her brows rise. 
"Oh. Is everything—"
"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."
"That's okay, we can just—"
You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away. 
Only there do you stop to catch your breath. 
And then you cry. 
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February 1982
"What do you think about Marie?" 
You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table. 
"Marie Iverson?" you ask.
"Yeah." 
Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it. 
"I don't know. I don't know her that well."
"She's cute." 
"I guess so," you say. 
It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—
"I was thinking of asking her out."
The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase. 
"Shit, here. Take mine." 
Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it. 
"Y/N?" 
"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."
"Sure. So what do you think?" 
"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."
"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."
Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before. 
"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now. 
"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."
Steve deflates. 
"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."
You sigh and rub your temple. 
"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."
"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."
Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?" 
"Writing?"
"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."
"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."
He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention. 
"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."
Steve laughs, nose scrunched. 
"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."
"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words." 
"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"
"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."
Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."
Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.
You shuffle your papers into a stack. 
"Can we study now?" you ask.
"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."
"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."
He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.
"Lemme take you out," he says. 
You nearly swallow your tongue. 
"Wh–what?"
"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."
"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."
Steve beams. "I'll drive you."
Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do. 
You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair. 
Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back. 
"Just us?" you check. 
You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together. 
"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?" 
You check your watch and close your book. 
"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later." 
Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.) 
"Please," he says. "For helping me."
Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."
Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends. 
"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."
You perk up at that. "Really?"
"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?" 
"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."
And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.
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Now
You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs. 
"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."
You might have overshot the perks, though. 
Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses. 
"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."
She shoots you a mean look. 
"I'm complaining to the manager."
You paste on a smile. 
"You do that. Have a nice day."
She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation. 
Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile. 
"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.
Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always. 
You lean your elbows on the countertop. 
"What'll it be, gang?"
"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."
You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes. 
"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.
"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."
Dustin accepts this with no argument. 
"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."
You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that. 
He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking. 
"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say. 
"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?" 
Lucas nods. 
"Yup. They're both parents."
You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey. 
"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."
"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."
"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"
Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you. 
"What?"
"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains. 
"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."
"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."
"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone. 
Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie. 
"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."
"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort. 
"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared. 
"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."
"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector." 
Dustin nods eagerly.
You blink. "He protects you guys?"
Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly. 
"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."
"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."
"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."
"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."
You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that. 
"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."
"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."
"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?" 
Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."
"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”
“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.
“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”
You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change. 
When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty. 
"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"
"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."
"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"
"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."
"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.
"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business." 
"And why can't your babysitter take you?"
You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional. 
"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."
Now that sounds like the Steve you knew. 
"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."
"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."
“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.
You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.
“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”
“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.
“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”
You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.
“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”
Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”
You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”
“Byeeee!”
They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.
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March 1983
“Okay, but if you had to choose.”
“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”
Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”
“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”
“Exactly! My birthday.”
He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.
“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”
“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”
“I keep telling you you need glasses.”
“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”
He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool. 
“Shit,” he says.
You belly laugh in delight.
“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”
“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”
"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."
You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy. 
The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy. 
“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”
"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.
“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”
“‘S cold.”
“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”
He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”
“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.
“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.
“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason. 
“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”
“Can’t believe no one else came.”
You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.
“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”
You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.
“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.
“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”
“I listen.”
Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.
“God, I miss you,” he says.
You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little. 
“I’m right here, Steve.”
“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”
Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.
“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”
“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”
“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.
“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”
You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.
“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”
“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”
Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”
His laugh is warm in your neck. 
You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.
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Now
“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”
“Game plan?” El asks quietly.
“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”
She stares at Lucas.
“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”
“Right.”
“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”
You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”
Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”
“Or a total disaster,” Max says.
You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.
“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”
The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.
“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”
Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”
“Uh-huh.” 
The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning. 
“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area. 
You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share. 
“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”
Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.
“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”
He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.
“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.
“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”
“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”
“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”
He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”
“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.
“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”
“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”
Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.
“Harrington, man, what’s up!” 
Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.
“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”
Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.
“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm. 
“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.
“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”
America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying. 
“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded. 
You feel a burst of pride.
Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.
“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”
“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”
No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror. 
“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”
Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.
Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”
Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”
Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.
“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”
He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.
“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”
The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket. 
“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”
“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”
Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.
“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”
She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you. 
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”
“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”
Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”
You’re suddenly exhausted.
“What do you want, Steve?”
“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”
“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”
“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”
“I didn’t want it that much.”
“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”
“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”
“Y/N—”
“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”
Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it. 
“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”
“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”
“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”
Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.
So you run. Again. 
You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting. 
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You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?
So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.
Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.
Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.
"Slushie?"
She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"
You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"
"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"
Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth. 
You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese. 
"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.
Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"
"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?" 
Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too. 
"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava. 
"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"
"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."
Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none. 
"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."
"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."
You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head. 
"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."
"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."
Robin smiles a sad smile. 
"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."
The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?
"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."
"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."
"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble. 
"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."
You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.
"If you two are—"
"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met." 
"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."
Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."
You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot. 
"This town is so shit," you say. 
"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."
"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."
Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."
"I can sometimes be an asshole."
"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?" 
You laugh. "We'll get jackets."
"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle. 
You look at the tape in your hand. 
"Does Steve like John Hughes?" 
"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."
He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved. 
"I did want to watch this one," you say. 
"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises. 
You suppose not.
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December 1984
You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.
Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on. 
Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap. 
Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.
You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't. 
A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself. 
You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.
Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been. 
"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."
There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie. 
It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.
Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not. 
Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy. 
Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life. 
No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.
You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault. 
But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him. 
You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital. 
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Now (And Forever)
The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.
It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.
The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it. 
Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.
That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.
I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.
You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.
I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.
Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you. 
I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck. 
But I miss you. I always have.
Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.
I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships. 
Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that. 
It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.
I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it. 
I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.
You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.
Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.
Sincer
Lo
Your friend,
Steve
You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand. 
You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.
It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.
There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.
You knock on the door three times. And wait.
Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.
The door swings open. 
Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine. 
“I got your letter,” you say.
“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you. 
“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”
Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”
His brows knit. “What?”
“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”
“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”
“Like a friend?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask. 
“Always.” 
You squeeze your eyes shut.
“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”
You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—
“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”
And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.
“I missed you,” you confess.
Steve nods against your shoulder.
“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”
“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.
“Hmm?”
You pull back to look at Steve.
“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”
“We found each other again.”
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grapementos · 1 year
Text
walk away as the door slams
aged up bakugo x reader
cw: heavily! toxic relationships, emotionally abusive (gaslighting, etc.), angst.
pt 2 here.
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bakugo isn't the same person he was in high school. he grew into a top five hero and opened his own agency, only to be brutally torn apart by the tabloids.
scandal after scandal, you watched him crack. like glass, he grew more and more fragile each time he was made out to be a monster, an asshole, a douchebag--whatever other name was thrown out there.
each time, you were there to comfort him and stand by his side against every rumor and generalization. still, it scared you as you watched his resolve weaken. it was as if he didn't see the point in being a hero anymore.
then came the headline, the article that had him hanging up his gauntlets in exchange for civilian life. the article had an incriminating photo of him holding up his hand to a child. of course, it was taken out of context; bakugo had merely been guiding the child away from the rubble of the building near them.
however, the media ate it up, and bakugo decided that being a hero wasn't worth the false allegations. he announced his resignation the same day and rid the entire house of hero news.
it broke your heart to see him give up his dream, so you'd tried and failed time and time again to talk him out of it. you even invited midoriya and kirishima to persuade him to become a hero again, but his mind was made.
he'd since picked up a new, low-brow job that kept him out of the public eye. with that, unfortunately, came stress regarding bills, grocery shopping, and necessary budget cuts. it was a huge adjustment, one that led to frequent arguments.
you worked from home, so you were able to keep it clean and cook meals for the most part. you tried so hard to keep your home a place where the two of you could coexist happily, but he always came home with an unfulfilled look in his eyes.
truth be told, you were exhausted, but bringing it up just made bakugo frustrated, so you avoided the subject. instead, you'd ask him about work, only to be brushed off.
it hurt.
"katsuki," you called from your spot at the table, finishing up some work, "what do you want to eat tonight?"
"dunno." he grunted, walking out of your shared bedroom.
"right. so helpful." you sighed, looking at your laptop once more, "do you have a general idea? or do you want to cook?"
"i just got home from an 8-hour shift." he looked at you like you were dumb, eyes narrowed, "can you lay off with the million questions?"
"it's a simple question. i need to know if i have to defrost anything." you shut your laptop a little harder than necessary, "i work too, you know."
he laughed bitterly but didn't say anything.
"what?" you demanded, hands on your hips.
"oh, nothing. just thought it was funny, is all."
"what's so damn funny?"
"you, sitting on a laptop all day. 'working'," he used air-quotes, opening the cupboards.
"really? you wanna go there?" you closed the cupboard he was looking in, cheeks flushed with frustration.
he stared at you, jaw clenched, "can you move?"
"can you stop being so damn mean?"
"god, i'm not being mean." he shook his head and opted for digging through the fridge instead, "y'just being too damn sensitive."
you took in a deep breath, red hot anger beginning to boil up in your gut and through your hands all the way down to your fingers.
"stop digging through the fridge when i'm trying to talk to you, please."
he didn't even spare you a glance, pulling out the last cold water bottle.
"katuski." you demanded, louder.
"my god, what?" he slammed the fridge closed, leaning back on the counter, "as if i don't get nagged enough by my boss."
"i'm not nagging you. i'm," you stammered, trying not to escalate the situation into an argument, "i'm trying to see what you want for dinner. that's all."
"just make whatever. i'm not hungry anyways." he tossed the plastic bottle into the trash, plopping down at the table.
you rubbed your temples, trying so hard to maintain your calm, "okay."
-
the two of you were sat across each other at the kitchen table. you ate something quick you'd whipped up, finally breaking the silence, "they're considering me for a promotion. it's a pretty significant payraise, and i think i--"
"god, are you fuckin' kidding me?" he interrupted, eyes suddenly aflame.
"what?" you cocked your head, confused at his sudden irritation.
"you just love rubbing that shit in my face, huh? you're always talking about how you get paid more than i do, how work is so great, and now this? great job, breadwinner."
"katsuki, we're partners, we both contribute to this household no matter what. i'm not the... breadwinner." you insisted, pain blooming in your chest, "i thought you'd be happy for me."
"like you were so happy for me to quit that hero gig? so you can get all the glory of supporting us?"
"is that really what you think?" you stood, not able to control the flames of anger licking at your chest, "katsuki, you know damn well i gave my all trying to talk you into staying a hero."
"bullshit. you just wanted it to look that way." he stood too, hands planted firmly on the table, "because that's what you do. you pretend you care, and then just soak up all the glory for it."
you clenched your jaw, "not everyone cares for glory as much as you do. i don't know why you think that, but i know you loved being a hero, and i supported that because i love you."
"do you? or did you only get with me to be the partner of a hero?" he spat, eyes narrow and downright venomous, "poor partner of dynamight, they must go through so much to endure his anger issues. poor fuckin' you, right? poor y/n."
your lower lip quivered, the back of your eyes burning, and he laughed. he laughed.
"what? you're gonna cry, really?" he scoffed, shaking his head, "fine, fuckin' cry. that's all you seem to know how to do."
you inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes trained steadily on him, "fuck you." you whispered, hands balled into fists by your side.
"say it louder." he challenged, "maybe it'll actually do something."
"fuck you, bakugo katsuki." tears fell freely down your cheeks, but you weren't sad. you were pissed.
you walked around the table and jabbed your finger in his chest, "i have done so much for you. so goddamn much. i have stood by you, i have disproved every bad thing the media had to say, i've supported you, and-" your voice wobbled, "it's never fucking enough. nothing is ever enough for you. someone is always after you, someone is always praying on your downfall, because everything's about katsuki, right?"
he was stunned silent, leaning back away from you. his face was conflicted, eyes wide with surprise.
"well news-fucking-flash, the world doesn't revolve around you. and neither do i," you dropped your hand, wiping at your cheeks, "so i'm done. i'm done fighting for us, because you have never once tried for me."
"y/n--"
"y'know, katsuki." you paused on your way to the bedroom, "i think they were right about you. you are a douchebag. an asshole. a monster."
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