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harry-writings · 3 years

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The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her.

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #IM EARLY I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I FINISHED SOONER THAN EXPECTED #WHOOP WHOOP #LOVE YALL

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

perfectly wrong | one

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2301

chapter warnings: cussing, mature language, very slight angst, some hints of jealousy, alcohol consumption

notes: pls remember that this is set a few months after you and tae have been going at it, so it will seem like things are happening a bit fast. i’m not trying to prolong this series. also most importantly, i tend to usually write shorter chapters > shorter, but more chapters published. enjoy!

> series masterlist <

Jungkook decided he was going to see if he could jump over your couch and land perfectly in a seated position.

"Wait, wait, wait. Absolute silence everybody." He says as he's stretched over, trying to estimate the timing and height of his jump. He had always been super athletic and competitive since you two were small, so there was really no changing his mind on this. He always had to prove something, even if that meant creating his own competition of jumping over the couch.

"It's just me and you." You watched him from the kitchen, making sure the pizza in the oven was baking properly.

"I have an audience, okay? Don't be rude, Y/N." He says as he points over to the fake audience clapping and laughing during a 'Friends' episode.

"Whatever, as long as you don't go breaking my shit, Jeon Jungkook." He was 22, but his mentality was 8. That was for damn sure.

"Siiiiiiilence." He says at a whisper, his eyes shut as he puts a finger to his mouth. He lets out a huff and a puff before he gets the courage to throw himself over the couch and land a perfect landing. "And once again, he sticks the landing!" He stands up with his hands up in the air.

"You're annoying." You laughed, getting paper plates ready for the pizza that was about to be done because you were in no mood to do any dishes tonight.

"Thank you! I'll be here again tomorrow, same time." He calls out to his fake audience.

"No the hell you're not."

"Ouch, nevermind. Someone apparently doesn't want me here." You laugh at how dramatic he is. At this point, you just let him be because that was something you always loved about your bestfriend. He embraced the kid in him and always brought good times. You had similarities, but you also had some major differences. You liked being in your comfort zone & you were labeled the innocent nerd amongst your friends. You just like to consider yourself simple, though. A 'take it day by day' kind of person. Kookie was fun, adventurous and childish at times. He was also shy, but loud at the same time? An introverted extrovert, you could say.

But you loved each other nonetheless, that's why you've clicked so well since you were young. You taught each other things & grew together.

"Here, fool." You placed the pizza in front of him with the paper plates.

"Set it up, I'll grab us the drinks. You want anything in particular?"

"That bottle of Stella Rosa, please." JK knew you loved that Stella Rosa, so he happily grabs the bottle and two wine glasses. He plops back next to you on the couch, pouring your glasses and grabbing a heaping serving of 4 slices of pizza.

You both decided you want a good laugh, so you throw on Kevin Hart's newest installment: Zero Fucks Given. It isn't long before you both are rolling on the floor, almost gasping for air at how much you're laughing at Kevin Hart's stand up. The pizza is gone, the wine is gone, and you're still feeling pretty tipsy. The whole thing sounds nice, until your head starts to wonder what Taehyung is doing and if he'll text you to come over tonight. You know he probably already has plans with another chick though, and that hits you.

Curse this fucking alcohol.

Let's get this straight - the only time you 'talk' is when he's trying to fuck.

And yes bitch, you let him do this to you. You're out that door before you can even fully slip your shoes on. Dick is just that good. It's something about Taehyung that makes you addicted. The way he gives you a stupid ass smirk when he opens his door, the way he touches your skin and gently lays his shit on you until you both become really invested in the moment. So invested that shit hits the roof. It gets messy. It gets rough. It becomes unspeakable.

You aren't friends. No one knows about you two, or that you even know the other exists. You don't know shit about each other. The only thing you know is that he's fucking other girls. He has a whole roster, you'd imagine - a starting five, at least.

He doesn't care about you, and for the most part, you don't either. At least, that's what you like to portray because it's been some months now since this whole thing started and you can't help but feel some kind of emotional tie to him. You're leaving your house between 12-2am in the morning and sleeping in his bed until 6-7am. It's a routine; a routine you've become used to. You skip out on some late night kick-its with your friends cause you anticipate a text to come through from him.

But, he doesn't care. You aren't the only female slipping into those sheets, and boy does it fucking make it hard to swallow. Reality hits hard when you think about it and you feel this huge pit in your stomach. You try to be different, you try to stand out one way or another. But it doesn't work that way. You knew what this entailed going into it, so it makes zero sense as to why you're hurting and getting jealous from time to time.

You know it still doesn't matter to him.

He's only fucking you over cause you let him. You know damn well you're not gonna change and let this go, though. You love thrill of it too much. It's the most thrill your life has had. You're not perfect and you're only human. You make mistakes, but this one definitely puts the cherry on top. Because not only do you refuse to learn, but you let it repeat itself over and over again.

"Aishhhh, my stomach hurts from laughing too much." Jungkook laid his head back and patted his belly. "But that was good though. I needed that."

"Yeah it was. Thanks for coming by to watch that with me, Kook." He tilts his head over to look at you and smiles.

"Sure thing." He checks his phone and sits up. "Yoongi is blowing up the group chat." You check your phone to see multiple unread messages from none other than Min Yoongi himself.

[yoongi] 10:37pm: aye

[yoongi] 10:45pm: all of a sudden, everyone is ghost in this group chat?! you all had a lot to say not too long ago.

[yoongi] 10:52pm: even though you guys are fake as fuck, does anyone wanna come with me to the bars tonight? meet at my place so we can head out.

You and Jungkook laughed at how butthurt Yoongi was in the groupchat. Yoongi definitely was the most serious and blunt one in your group, but he still liked to party and have a good time. It was just how he was. Hoseok was always full of energy and probably the most extroverted one out of all 4 of you. He was never shy. You and Jungkook met Yoongi and Hoseok your first year in college and became inseparable ever since. You all just click with your different attributes.

[jungkook] 10:53pm: lmaoooooooo

[yoongi] 10:53pm: fuck you dude lol

[jungkook] 10:54pm: i'll come through in a sec, i'm at y/n's right now. not sure if she's gonna come though?

[y/n] 10:55pm: i'll pass, i'm tired and wined out.

[hoseok] 10:55pm: ahahahah yoongi shut up, blowing up my phone for no reason. i'm passing on tonight too. im tired from working that overtime *cries*

[yoongi] 10:56pm: you both are boring. i'm especially offended at how i didn't get an invite to your little powwow, y/n. and now you don't wanna hang out?

[hoseok] 10:57pm: she mentioned she was going to watch kevin hart's thing yesterday and offered us to swing by if we wanted to though....... selective hearing, maybe?

[y/n] 10:58pm: ^ okayyyyy and that's on period! thank you hobi <3

[hoseok] 10:59pm: anything for the baby

[yoongi] 10:59pm: lmao you're a brat, y/n. whatever, i'm still hurt by you both! kook, hurry on over so we can drink

"Fuck I regret this, I'm gonna die." Jungkook laughed as he stood up and stretched. He quickly helped you clean up before he figured it was time to go or else Yoongi would have a fit.

"I feel like it has to do with that one girl he's been talking to on and off."

"Perhaps." Jungkook shrugged before putting on his shoes. "We shall see." he sighs before giving you a tight hug. "You sure you don't wanna come out?"

"Nope."

"You don't even have plans tonight."

"Yes I do."

"Doing what?"

"Laying in bed." Jungkook snorted as you shook your head and shrugged. What else did he think you were trying to do? He should know you by now, at the very least.

"Alright, I'm not even going to argue. I'm off."

"Be safe, have fun, text me if you both need anything, okay?" He nods as he shuts the door, leaving you to your lonesome. You swirled the teeny tiny drop of wine leftover in your glass around before picking up your phone.

No new texts. Well, let's be specific: no new texts from taehyung.

You did forget to respond to your oldest cousin though, when he was just trying to check up on you.

[seokjin] 8:35pm: pssst y/n

[seokjin] 8:35pm: psssssssssst

[seokjin] 8:35pm: oyyyyyyyyyy

He was damn near 30 years old and hated talking on the phone so much that he decides to blow up your phone this way. But, he was the cousin you loved dearly and you had a very tight, sibling-like relationship with him. He was like the older brother you've always wanted. He watched you grow, protected you, kept you safe, supported you and cheered you on - especially when your family talked so much shit about how you and him weren't gonna get anywhere with your goals. You know, the fucking stupid ol' saying of 'chasing your passion isn't going to bring you money & wealth.' Your family was all about the titles and money, but Jin was passionate about cooking and wanted to open his own cafe. You, on the other hand, wanted to pursue your art. Jin was the biggest role model for you because he was the first to defy your family's wants and wishes. He was the black sheep of the family with a huge 'I don't give a fuck' mentality and he taught you that along the way.

Don't ever be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Fuck 'em.

[y/n] 11:13pm: hi sorry, jungkook was over and we were watching kevin hart's new thing on netflix over some wine and pizza.

[seokjin] 11:15pm: that sounds fun! sorry, i just wanted to check on you but i see you're doing okay lol

[y/n] 11:16pm: i am. :) i'll hang out with you tomorrow

[seokjin] 11:16pm: how sweet, my freeloading baby cousin is coming by

[y/n] 11:17pm: hahahah shut up! although you're not wrong, i am going to steal some food. but most importantly, i do want to hang out and see my bestest oppa <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: awww y/n, you're so full of shit <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: go to bed

[y/n] 11:19pm: haha love you tooooo

And so, that's what you did. You got yourself all ready for bed, believing you wouldn't be leaving your house tonight. You pampered yourself, put on a face mask and got yourself all lathered up in lotion just to lay down. You're in Jungkook's shirt that he left behind (and never looked for, so technically it's yours now) when the guys had stayed the night and some Vicky Secret panties.

You're scrolling through your Instagram feed, seeing Jungkook's newly posted story with him and Yoongi already at the bars, acting a damn fool. You laughed at the video he took of Yoongi trying to dance in a tight, awkward space on the crowded dance floor even though he was never the best at dancing. It lowkey made you wish you went out with them so you wouldn't be stuck here thinking about your feelings and how lonely these hours get.

And then you see Jimin's story from an hour ago. He knew you were friends with Yoongi, and although Yoongi wasn't fond of their group too much, he was still an avid party-goer and mingled with people there. You've only spoken to Jimin once because you had to work with him in the same group on a class assignment. You tried to keep it that way though because he was Taehyung's bestfriend. They went everywhere together, did everything together. He, too, was very popular among the ladies and across campus. I guess it was just their thing.

You assume they were at a party cause Jimin quickly flashes the camera at Taehyung, who's in front of him getting a lapdance from some chick. Jimin quickly turns the camera back to his face as he's laughing uncontrollably then abruptly cuts it off.

Great.

She's forsure going home with him tonight.

You set your phone down on the night stand and put on a show on your laptop to help you fall asleep.

Just as you're about to get some shut eye, your phone vibrates. You let it slip at first because you thought it could be one of the guys playing around, but it vibrates again, signaling another text coming through. You pick up your phone just to make sure Yoongi and Jungkook aren't in any trouble and need you to bail their asses out.

[taehyung] 12:17am: hey

[taehyung] 12:20am: come over.

You scoff at how he assumes you're still up and that you'd be coming over. You hated that. He knew he just had your ass.

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track two: hit different - sza & ty dolla $ign

#bts #bts fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #writing #perfectly wrong

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thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

Silent treatment - Din Djarin & Javier Peña. || Preference #1.

Summary: Just a little preference/head cannon on a snipet with Din and Javier dealing with the silent treatment. Enjoy!

Warnings/Content: none but pettiness lol

Din Djarin

Din is more of the intervert type, he likes the quiet. The shift of light to dark, nothing is more relaxing then the stars that reflect off the 'T' of his visor in complete silence.

While you understand he likes it, you tend not to talk too much, which can be difficult but you find yourself falling into comfortable silence against the mandalorian's chest more than you like to admit.

Quietness was the normal between the clan often because of the excitement that came when they were off the ship, blasters, yelling, threatening was no existent.

The Razor Crest resembled a place of peace, a place where skins real skin can press against your own without worry, he can remove the helmet in the dark to kiss you, kiss promises against your skin, a safe haven.

It would take Din longer than he would like to admit to realize you're not speaking to him, it takes almost hours to realize something is wrong.

There were hints of it, your nose turning up when he entered the cockpit, the small huffs, you avoid his gaze a presence at all times. You would even speak the child with the sweet voice but the moment he walks into the room you're silent.

Finally he's had enough, leaning against the door frame of the cockpit, you in the co-pilot seat with the child, the child holding the ball to show you for the millionth time his favorite toy. You smile sweetly at him, fingers pressing against his ears, rubbing the petals with a coo. The other hand holds out a small chunk of fruit, "Take one bite for me."

The child declines with a whine, making you huff. "C'mon buddy, you can play with the ball later." It's useless.

He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. He stands unsure, hands nervously shaking as he fears the worst. You want to leave. "Is....Is something wrong?"

There's no answer, like he hasn't even said anything just the small gaze that meets him with a grimace. Again, the child distracts you instead. His heart pounds with anticipation as his chest falters.

This makes him frown, muscles straining as he grits his teeth nervously. "Hello?"

The thick tension that fills the air makes it almost impossible to breath for the pair, both are fearful, it's a new relationship, mistakes were still to be made. It pollutes the air with a sickly feeling.

Not only was the Mandalorian surprised, he was frustrated. You can see it in the way he tenses, fingers shake but not in the way his skin turned red under all the armour, that was for him to feel the heat run up his back and blush his neck.

He clearly didn't like the way you responded, long strides until he's between your legs. He stands tall, towering over your sitting figure. Intimidating with his large shoulders, the metal points of his helmet staring down at you. His fingers find your chin, gripping to finally feel your eyes but his words are gentle, pleading. "Tell me.. what is wrong?"

When you don't speak he does, "Cyar'ika, sweet girl if something is wrong you need to tell me."

"You're an idiot." He finds humor in the words, a chuckle tightening his chest.

"Care to elaborate? You say that a lot." Gloved fingers move up your jaw, fingers press against the soft spot in the back of your ear, apply just enough pressure to make it comforting.

"It's not funny. I'm mad at you." Your face was serious, lips pursing with a slight frown. This makes Din sigh, he kneels down until he's at your height still in-between your legs.

"I'm not laughing, I'm sorry. Tell me."

Your words make his heart pound, tears starting to stings eyes, the glossing over makes him worried. "You just jumped into the Krpt Dragon without a worry. You didn't think about me or the child. You don't care if you die.. but I do."

"I do care... You and the child are the only two people I care for." He disagrees, the cool basker pressing against your collarbone, leaning against your body. "I would do anything for you two."

"I know that... But you cannot be risking your life for people like this. I know you like to help but it's too much to loose." You pause, "I can't take it, the thought of loosing you."

The words make him pause. Throughout his life Din has heard a lot of things these words were yours and yours alone. They make him nervous, his breath hitches, he doesn't know how to feel. He's never had to think about this before.. he's was like but now he has a girl, a family waiting for him.

"I-Im sorry." It's uncharacteristic, they way he lifts his helmet just enough to press a soft kiss against your shoulder, another one to your neck before pressing against your lips for one final one, he words whispered against lips. "I never thought about it like that before, forgive me.. I don't want you to worry."

"Well I can't help it." You sniff, a lazy smile at his warmth but his helmet drops back down as you catch of glimpse of blushed lips.

"I'm sorry. I'm not alone anymore, I forget." His arms wrap around your waist pulling you as close as the child on your lap will allow, the basker clad chest should be uncomfortable, cold but it's the exact opposite, warm and safe. "Forgive me Cyare."

"I can never stay mad at you." The words are breathlessly murmured against the small patch of skin on his neck, the spot where you would often pull down in the collar of his tunic to feel his skin. "I love you Bear."

"I love you sweet girl."

Javier Peña

Javier Peña's life is anything but boring, it's filled with chaos, long nights, alcohol and woman of any kind. The woman is where the problem was, no matter how much you told him it bothered you, that it should be more than just sex, he made sure it didn't.

It was pure raging hot jealousy that seared inside your veins, it crept warmth up the nape of your neck, fist ball under the table of the bar. Murphy must have noticed how violently you are chewing on your bottom lip, eyeing the pair across the bar. "You alright?"

"Fine." You snap rather quickly, eyes growing wide in realization. "Sorry Murph, I'm fine."

His eyes show it all, head tilting with an unamused look. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not I'm just tired." And jealous, so, so jealous that Javier's lips press against the brunettes collar bones, flash of pink as his tongue rolls against her neck, pressing his weight against her.

You knew it was just sex, Javi made sure to let you know despite working together nothing would change, it was just sex , a stress reliever with someone who understood the faults of working for the DEA, the struggles that went with it. Except now it was more, it was those nights with next to each other naked in bed, the kisses, hugs, cute nicknames and the long talks of promises, potential future but now it seems you were never part of it.

He acted as if he were your boyfriend, he often made dinner for you, picking up a coffee before heading into the office for you every morning, he gave you gifts, his main reasoning being "It reminds me of you."

Javier was confusing, late at night after a long day he would confess his affection for you, even let it slip a few times that he loves you, swears you are his other half, his soulmate. Of course it's when he's drunk but you hold onto it being the truth he's afraid to admit.

Javier doesn't notice you leaving that night, he doesn't notice Murphy offering to walk you home, assure you get their safely despite it being right next to his own.

The next morning you decide to go into work a little earlier, hoping your sleepless night filled with tears would be worth it. At least it took your mind off it.

It was like clock work, Javier placing the large coffee cup in front of you on your desk, this time some kind of pastry is next to it, tucked in a wax bag and a kiss presses against your cheek. "Good morning Hermosa."

The silence is uncharacteristic, very seeing he literally has to beg you to shutup sometimes. His face twist into confusion as you pull away from his lips, but the mark still burns against your cheek. The same lips that you know for a fact were all over another woman's body last night.

"What's wrong?" He notices as Murphy shakes his head with a huff, clearly annoyed with his friends ignorance. Javi's eyes drift from his with shrugging shoulders to yours with a look of surprise. "What?"

"I'm going to bring these down to Lopez, meet you in a half an hour downstairs Murph." Your words make Javier's brows flur, why?

The coffee is left, along with the muffin. He sits down at his own desk, leaning over to grab it, he starts to pull it apart, pick at it with ever intent to eat it but suddenly doesn't feel hungry.

"What's her problem?"

"Really Javi? What's her problem?" The words make Javi's jaw clench, he doesn't much care for his friends tone as he speaks. "You're an idiot, you hurt her feelings."

"I didn't do anything! I even got her a muffin today, it's blueberry her favorite!" Javi feels nervous, in all the time he's known you this had never happened; intentionally ignoring him.

"you didn't do anything?" Murphy stands, Javier guesses it's to meet you. "You invited her out last night and then ignored her to fuck a girl in front of her."

"I didn't fuck her, all we did was kiss." Javi hisses back, rubbing over his face with a growl. "Besides we agreed it was just hooking up.'

"Well it doesn't seem to be for her anymore, you need to apologise. She was crying to whole way I walked her home."

"She.. She walked home?" The words sit deep in his gut, squeezing his chest with a soft sigh. No matter how much he tried to help it, all the alochol and woman could distract him from how he feels for you, even when he tries to hide it. His words faulter, "Why didn't you just tell me? I would have walked her home, when I came back you both were gone."

"She didn't want to speak with you, I made sure she got home safe. If it was any of your concern."

The words were sour, a dig that made Javier growl. Of course it was his concern, even thought he promised to never admit it, he cared for you in a way he never has for another person.

Sure he almost got married, had plenty of girlfriends but it wasn't like this. Nothing compared to the feeling of having you close at night, waking up next to you. Javier's fingers shakily reach for a cigarette, watching Murphy slip out of the main office with a huff.

As time went on, Javier couldn't get out of his own head, while they agreed that it was strictly just a way to relieve stress it was also a habit by now.

The nights spent back and forth at each other's houses, the particularly rough days were together, holding each other close.

When he found himself down you were always there, comforting him, making sure he eats telling him that alochol and cigarettes are not a meal, even going as far as making meals for him. Call him selfish, but he didn't want it to end.

The moment he heard that the next group was heading out over the intercom he was up, he knew Murphy and you were going to it, he be dammed if he would ever let you go anywhere near action without him.

You would be fine.. eventually. You give a small smile of reinsurance to Murphy as he slides into the car next to you, but both of your faces drop the moment Javi opens the door, clearing his throat with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Javi.. I thought you weren't on this one?" Murphy questions, rubbing over his face as your eyes narrow at Javier's which are already on you.

"Change of plans." It's gruff, sharp as his narrow back. "Want to tell me what's wrong sweetheart?"

He's only met with more silence, your arms wrapping across your chest as you lean into the seat, eyes roaming over the different shades of green head resting across the glass. It was going to be a long ride.

"Why are you acting like a brat?" It's a dig, he's trying to break this silence, the only way he can think of is to piss you off. "You're acting like a baby."

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the words turning your head to look at him, then to Steve who looks the other way, deciding now was the perfect time to mind his own business.

Javier obviously doesn't get what the silent treatment is, he shifts, leaning against the seat, spreading his legs to give you the perfect view of his legs, his thighs. There's a small smirk, cocky as his hands run across his inner thigh. "Come talk to me."

It's an invitation one that makes your blood boil, you can't help the words that fall past your lips. "Go ask that girl from the bar, you pig."

"Mmhmm." He mumbles, eyes flickering with that stupid knowing smirk. "You're mad about that mija? I thought we agreed it was no commitments besides I didn't fuck her."

The car comes to a holt, quick you and Steve tumbling towards the seats across where Javier sits, Murphy catches himself hand extending to the seat belt while you find yourself heading toward the window but fingertips softly grapsing your hips stop you, pulling you into a familiar chest.

Steve mumbles something about 'getting to work' and you two being 'ridiculous already' before opening the car door and shutting it.

You're about to follow him by pushing against Javier's chest but his grip never falters. "Relax." He mewls, lips pressing against your neck. "You know you're my girl, my Hermosa."

"I bet you said the same thing to her before you fucked her."

It's a sigh, breathlessly and exaggerated. "I told you I didn't fuck her. We only kissed."

"You could have kissed me." There was no use in struggling, but you managed to keep distance. Cold eyes on his own.

His hand presses against your chin, thumb on the sharpest angle trying to bring his lips to your own, his apology but you move your head to the side.

"I don't think we should do this anymore.." you eyes don't meet his, adverting as all cost. His jaw drops, resembling a fish out of water as it closes, opens to say something but closes against deep in thought as he hears his heart beat in his ears.

His heart stuttering at the words, chest heavy, crushing as he held in a breath. "N-No, I mean it. You're my girl, I'm sorry. You know how I feel about you."

The words sit on the tip of his tongue, his eyes shoot over to Murphy with a group of other officers talking tactics but suddenly he doesn't care about that anymore only the fact his own heart was breaking inside his chest.

"I can share you anymore. I can't do this to myself."

"I'm yours, I-I won't -." He can't seem to say the words, they choke up in his throat, eyes show his internal panic his heart against his mind, Javi didn't commit, this life style didn't allow it.

But when your fingers find the handle, trying to leave the close proximity of the car he knew he'd loose your forever. "I'll stop sleeping around, I'll stop all of it. Only me and you."

Eyes test him, even like this, large bags, no make up you looked beautiful. You're unsure letting out a deep breath, it wasn't looking good. "Please, I need you. You can't just go.."

"You get one chance Javi, one slip up and I'm not putting myself through this." He lets out a sigh of relief heart claiming down for the anticipation but before he could manage another word you open the door, stepping outside. "You coming Agent Peña? I believe you have a dinner to take me to later, since you're officially making me your girlfriend and all. I rather get this over with." Javi smiles, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes at your playfulness.

#din djarin fan fiction #the mandolorian imagine #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #javier pena imagine #javier pena x reader #narcos imagine

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xgryffinwhore · 3 years

Text

mama i’m in love with a hitman

summary: two years with barry what could go wrong? oh yeah hes a murderer-

warnings: some angst, marriage proprosal oop-

you had originally begun acting because it was the only affordable option to get you some time away from your family. ya, you still lived with your family.

anyways, acting became kind of like a release for you. you had been going for about 4 months now, you loved everyone you worked with, they were such great people.

then one day, barry berkman showed up,

and basically changed your life.

the first day you saw him, your heart basically feel out of your ass. holy shit was this guy hot; tall, mysterious, and awkward as hell. perfect.

you took him under your wing, immediately engaging with him and bugging him about his person endeavors and whatnot. you two became inseparable, youre bascially the only reason he even uses his messaging app.

you showed him the ropes of LA, giving him tours of sketchy venues, shitty Chinese restaurants. you always felt so awful for him, dragging him around to every place.

"I'm sorry, barry, im just trying to give you the full LA experience"

"its ok, being seen with the prettiest girl in LA isnt so bad"

yeah, one thing led to another, and you had moved into barry's apartment a year after. your relationship was strong; you cuddle, argue, fuck, all of that modern day romance contraband.

everything was exceptional, other than the fact that he was dragging his feet on marrying you...

yeah, you had dropped some major hints. wedding magazines everywhere, leaving honeymoon deals up on the desktop, evening face timing your friend and talking obnoxiously loud about the idea of getting hitched.

tomorrow was your two year anniversary, and you two had been buzzing about it all week, all the lovey dovey language and such.

"babe, tomorrows the day" he squeezed your shoulders from behind you. you were sitting at the coffee table, and he had just served you toast. "i know old man, didnt think we'd last did ya?" "first of all, im only like four years older than you, second" he kissed you on your temple "i knew you were the one."

in the midst of sipping your coffee and passing back and forth news papers, barry’s phone begins to vibrate; the name “Fuches” catches your eye. who was fuches and why did barry have to step out of the room to answer it?

when he came back he looked ghostly, his complexion pale and his lips quivering slightly. “all ok?” you ask, trying to sound lowkey; “uh um- yep. just have to head out for a bit, they need me at work.”

he left abruptly after, grabbing a hat and his black coat. weird. it was the middle june.

you hadn’t heard from him all day, except for a text at lunch that said

barry: Won’t be home tonight, dont forget to lock up.

your heart sunk, the day before your two year. i mean really what was his damage? you didn’t realize how hard it was to fall asleep without him, you tossed and turned until you eventually caved in and called.

ring...... ring.....

ring..........ring......

‘hey! it’s barry berk-uh um block! leave a message if you want to i guess um ok bye howthefuck do i turnthisthing off-OHH!’

oh how you missed that dorky man, true, it had only been a few hours but his touch was your saving grace. the line beeped and you decided to leave him something

“aha hey bar, y/n here. beds cold without you. miss you. be safe.”

the night way cold and long, you were drifting to sleep. but you heard the front door jangle. you sleepily run down the hall way and run straight into barry. you hugged him, his bosy was stiff and he was trying to inch away from you. "bar!" you whined looking up at him, his nose was bloody and he had a black eye.

“bar?” you wiped his cupid’s bow, the sleepy haze quickly wearing off. he pushes past you “just fell, please just wait for me in bed.” by the time you caught up with him at the bathroom, the door was already shut.

you heard the shower turn on, and you could hear him faintly hiss in pain. he was in there for a while, by the time he got back you could hear the birds chirp, which means it must have been close to 5 am. the sun was still down, and you watch his dark figure slip into bed next you to.

“i love you.” he whispered

“i love you too.” you turned to face him, you knew something was up, you knew he had been hiding something.

“you always leave in the night, when i’m sleeping you always leave barry. is it another women?” barry’s face contorts into a confused scribble. “y/n what? you’re the only one.”

“then why don’t you tell me what you’re really up to. go’s we’ve been dating for two years and you can’t even tell me why you sneak away in the night?!”

barry grabs your hands and puts them close to his face “god y/n i’m sorry happy two years” he gushed and kisses your fingers. a tear trailed down his stubbly cheek. “there are just things i can’t tell you because i don’t want to lose you.”

this hurt you, barry knew all of your deepest secrets, the things you never told anyone other then him. all of this had you worked up, how could he speak to you this way the day of your two year mark? despite his protests, you packed a tooth brush and drove to your friends to stay the night. this was just too much for 3am, you needed space. to clear your head.

you didnt sleep at all that night, you nodded off from 8am to 10, your friend waking you up. "girl i know you dont want to hear this... but barry is outside, hes been parked here since 9" she threw your jeans at you "now go outside and work this shit out, im not prepared to deal with your heart boken ass."

so you put on jeans, and headed for disaster.

you came outside, 'sleepy always looks so good on her' barry thought to himself. you loved him so much, it was so hard to fight with him.

"listen bar, im sorry im just sensitive you know th-"

"y/n"

barry never interrupted you. for as long as you remember there has never once been a time where barry talked over you, or interrupted what you were saying. its something you loved about him, he always seemed so interested in what you had to say, he thought your words where so important.

"yes?"

he pulled a rolled up magazine out of his pack pocket, it was yours, it had faded circles on what cakes and dresses you wanted. he unrolled it and scurried to the 5th page. he pointed at the big raise ranch that you put exclamation points next to.

"this house, i want this house."

he went to the 8th page.

"and this car, we could have that if i stop going to wendys so much"

he giggled to himself and mumbled something about how he knows a guy that can re pair a cooling system.

'uh-um ok barry, what does this have to do with anything? house, car, is this what you drove over here to tell me? you want a better car? you need a bigger house."

he shook his head and trialed to the second page with that beautiful sheath wedding dress, you remembered that.

"youll wear this yeah? some time in the early fall. wouldnt that be nice, still warm, and the leaves-oh the leaves- orange and yellow bring out your eyes so i just figured."

he pulled out the rock, and shit, it didn’t disappoint. you’re not materialistic but what the FUCK?! how did he even afford that-

he slipped it on your finger and you both embraced. messy kisses all over whatever skin you two could find. it was bliss, it was happiness.

you hugged for a while. just sat there reflecting on how far you two had come, and how happy he was going to make you feel for the res rod your life. it’s crazy, you thought marriage wasn’t in the cards for you. but with barry, you can see 5 kids, a dog, and a stupid picket fence.

you were so captured in this moment, you didn’t notice barry’s demeanor change. you looked up and him, he was pale white, staring behind his shoulder at the street. you leaned over his forearm and saw a beat up mom car.

in it was a shaggy dude, didn’t look too much older then barry. he was plump in the face, and his face was aged.

“fuches!?” barry exclaimed.

“come on. we have a hit, i habe your sniper in the back. now.”

another WHAT?

#bill hader #bill hader imagine #bill hader fluff #barry #barry berkman #barry block #barry bergman imagine #barry berkman fluff #fluff #angst #barry x reader #barry x you #barry fluff #marriage

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spinster-sisters · 3 years

Text

Thank you. KHJ.

TW: Dom!Jong, Sub!Reader, this isnt exacly a Mafia au its more like it just hints at unlawful buisness practices, i honestly dont know what to put here to describe this, Dollification? perhaps? I dont know if im usuing that correctly, a lot of posessiveness, unprotected sex, general dirty talk stuff the usual, despite the tags its actually kinda sweet (perhaps i just have a fucked up perception of sweet.)

WC: 2.8k

---

"Well, Hongjoong it seems you have beaten me again,"

The older man spoke from across the velvet table, placing his cards on the surface. You couldn't help feeling smug on behalf of your lover. You stood up from the corner you were sitting in and made your way over to the table falling into Hongjoongs lap now that the game was over.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just lucky," Hingjoong spoke in a mild tone but his wide wicked smile was enough to show everyone what they already knew. Hongjoong doesn't need luck, he's just that good.

You had been seeing him for quite a while. You started out as a waitress in this very Casino that Hongjoong owned. Nobody really knows exactly what he and his friends do for a living or the legality of it but the Casino was more of Hongjoongs personal side project than an actual job. While it made a lot of money he only ever took up ownership of it because he won it in a game against the original owner.

You had been taken with the man from the moment you laid eyes on him. He radiated confidence and power in every step he took and he had the looks to match. He was absolutely stunning. How your relationship got started wasn't exactly clear but after being his personal waitress for months you ended up in his office with your clothes hanging off the back of the couch.

"How about another game?" The older man asks with a grin. Hongjoong only chuckles. The older man had been eyeing your creepily all night and you looked to Hongjoong, hoping he would understand your discomfort. Your boyfriend meets your eyes for only a moment before looking back at the man.

"No offense sir but you're all out of chips," your boyfriend replies. As he spoke one hand came to rest on your thigh kneading it slightly in his grasp.

"I wasn't thinking about chips. How about something a little more valuable?" He sleazy man asks leaning forward onto the green velvet. Hongjoong was visibly intrigued, the higher the stakes the more fun it is. He raised an eyebrow in a way that says 'im listening.'

"My hotel chain against her," the man replied pointing a crooked finger at you.

You expected a hard no or a "get the hell out of my casino." But one never came. Your head snapped up to your boyfriend's face and to your disbelief, he was smiling. He was still gripping your leg as tightly as before but his hand was inching up the bare expanse of your leg. Hongjoong only waited a moment before responding.

"Let's play,"

You felt your gut drop through the floor as the game began you felt your hands start to shake in your lap, you knew better than to talk during a game but you wanted to scream at Hongjoong for putting you through this. It's not like you weren't confident in his abilities, of course, you were. But that isn't the only factor in card games like these, at a certain point it is simply luck of the draw, and while Hongjoong certain was lucky today could always be the day that luck would fail.

The game was nearing its conclusion and you could feel your palms sweating endlessly. The dealer spoke for the final time,

You watched in fear as the dealer began distributing cards to the two men. You were squirming helplessly in your spot on Hongjoongs lap, enough so that he had to pull you against his chest to keep you still. After looking at his cards your boyfriend placed a reassuring kiss on your temple but your nerves weren't settled, just what the man sitting across the table had in mind for you, you didn't know and you didn't want to. You didn't understand the game well enough to draw any conclusions so instead, you just watched as the game unfolded.

In true expert fashion, Hongjoong held the perfect poker face, not revealing anything in expression or body language. But the old man was all too telling, though his face did not betray him, his body was telling the story of utter confidence. Fuck.

“Reveal your cards,” he told the man. He sat up straighter with a smug smile before revealing his impressive hand on the table. Indeed, you didn't know much about the game, but you knew that your odds were slim right now.

“Come on Hongjoong, show us your cards. Not everyone can win all the time.” The greasy man poked at Hongjoong. You didn't dare look at Hongjoongs face, you didn't know what you would do if he looked upset. Slowly Hongjoong pulled the hand resting on you from your body and used it to reveal his cards. It took a moment for the room to react.

“Wipe that stupid smile off your face Hongjoong! You cheated and I know it!” The older man slammed his fist on the table making you jump, Hongjoong remained composed. Relife at the realization that your love won flooded through you as the younger man waved over an assistant, who sprung into action bringing over a stack of papers.

“Calm down sir. we both know I didn't cheat, I don't need to cheat to win. Now I believe we agreed that the ownership of your hotels now belongs to me?” the papers were placed in front of the man she stared in abject horror at them.

“There is no way I am signing these!” he cried out.

“I think you will find that you are. Trust me, sir, I am not the kind of man you want to get on the wrong side of.” Your boyfriend spoke, reclining back into his chair and pulling you with him. The man gauped wildly at Hongjoong before begrudgingly signing the papers and sliding them across to him. He lifted you from his lap before standing himself. Motioning for his assistant to take the papers Hoongjong turned to the man one final time.

“What's so funny!” you snapped, glaring in his direction. He was lounging against the kitchen counter.

“Make an offer like that again and I ruin you even more than I already have.”

-------

You stomped into the kitchen later that night. You could hear Hongjoongs calm footsteps behind you, but you ignore him and swing the fridge open at took a swig from a bottle of water. You were practically slamming the door closed when you heard your boyfriend's amused chuckle.

“You are doll face,” He said through a giggle, “Getting so worked up over nothing.” Your glare hardened.

“Oh, so you think risking your girlfriend in a bet against a disgusting old man is nothing?” you threw back, taking another swig from your water.

“It's not a risk if I knew I was going to win.” He replied calmly, resting his head on his hand.

“So you were cheating?” you replied with disdain.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the “p” in emphasis, “As I said, I don’t need to cheat to win.” Your anger was only rising with each of his careless words.

‘Why would you even say that?” he asked almost childishly. You were stunned. He took your hand that was braced against the counter and led it to his lips. They placed fluttering kisses from the tips of your fingers to your wrist. His other hand began to gently cradle your hip.

“God Damn it Hongjoong! Do I really mean that little to you? Am I really just another bargaining chip? All you care about is yourself and I am over it!” You were screaming now. It wasn't your intention but you were so fucking mad. You dared to meet your boyfriend's eyes, expecting the same nonchalant look he always carried, but instead his bemused smile had dropped into a deep frown.

In a start he pushed off the counter and rounded on you, you stubbled backward onto the marble and his arms came around to cage you against the cool surface.

"You are the most perfect thing in my life, baby doll. Can't you see that?" He continued barely above a whisper.

All too quickly his hands went from slow and steady movement to feverish, like he couldn't touch enough of you. His lips were crawling up your arm and shoulder to your neck. He wasn't kissing to make marks, instead, it was quick pecks to every inch of your skin and you instinctively allowed him more room. All your anger was forgotten as his hands roamed you freely.

From where they began on your hip they had moved from your lower back to your butt, around to your tummy, and up to your chest each time taking care to caress every inch of you. You had become putty in his grasp, practically melting into the cool countertop, your eyes already glazed over and releasing soft noises.

"There she is, my little doll," Hongjoong mumbled with a quiet chuckle after observing your flushed face. His free hand reached up to cup your jaw, pulling your lolling head back to meet his eyes.

"You are still unhappy with me dolly?" He asked with a deceivingly innocent look in his gaze.

"No," you mumbled, wanting to feel the gentle pressure of his lips on you again. Hongjoong giggled freely at your wanton face.

"No," he mumbled, "my little doll doesn't know how to be upset with me does she?"

You shook your head no. How could you be mad when you could still feel the buzzing from everywhere his hands had touched. You had always bent so easily to his will and this time was no different, but you trusted him completely so it was easy to let go.

Two hands gripped your thighs suddenly. You let out a small yelp only to silence yourself, good dolls don't speak unless spoken to. His fingers dug into the flesh for a moment before cupping your thighs and nudging you up onto the counter. You followed through and pushed yourself up, spreading your legs enough so that Hongjoong could slip between them.

He was still kneading your upper thighs when he connected your lips. Hongjoong has such perfect lips and he knew how to kiss you exactly how you wanted. He was guiding you gently through the motions of the kiss, taking his time from pecking you gently to a slow precise kiss to pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth freely, all the while inching further up your legs till his hands were beneath the hem of your dress playing with the waistline of your underwear. In one quick pinch on the soft skin, he signaled for you to lift your hips enough to pull them off.

"Your already so wet baby doll," he hummed into your lips while his finger brushed your folds. "Always so ready for me. Always so good."

Your bottom was now connected to the cold counter but your body was heating faster than you could feel it. Two of his fingers gently prodded into you, slipping into your hole with ease. His firm grip on your leg kept you grounded as your hands reached out to his biceps holding on for dear life. Hongjoong had always enjoyed playing with your cunt as much as you enjoyed feeling it, he loved how silky your walls were and how they wrapped around his fingers so perfectly. He slowly pushed in and out of you at his own leisure, occasionally scissoring you open in preparation.

"You feel so nice down here dolly, so warm and wet. Almost like you were made for me" his breath fanned over your face as he spoke as he was still so close to you. His eyes were drinking in every tiny shift in your expression, your eyes were shut tight but you nodded frantically.

"Awe, you're so sweet. Wanna tell me something? Go ahead," Hongjoong cooed.

"All yours," feel past your lips in a quiet moan.

"I know doll, my most prized possession." You opened your eyes to beam at him and he gave an affectionate smile in return. His hand suddenly pulled out if you're almost bringing a whine past your lips but you held it in. You could not stop the pained expression as he was watching your face so closely.

"Don't worry doll your gonna be filled up soon." He chuckled as he spoke, pulling away from you enough to unzip his frighteningly expensive suit pants and pull his length from his boxers. Despite the sight being familiar, you blushed madly, remembering all of the times he fucked you before brought you anticipation to a new height and you could feel more wetness seep out of you onto the counter.

Hongjoong bunched your dress up around your hips and quickly pulled you to the edge of the counter and into his strong arms. Your hands came to rest in fists on his chest. One of his hands came down to grip his dick, pumping himself a few times spreading precut down his length.

"Ready to take it like a good doll?" He asked smirking at your expectant face.

"I am," you mumbled with a small nod. To focused on the desire for him to fill you up to say more. It took little else for him to thrust into you completely. There was a stretch, as there always was, but the gentle pain was only a reminder of your purpose. To take all he was willing to give you.

Hongjoong never restrained himself with you as there was no need. It only took a moment for him to build up a rapid pace and you wouldn't have it any other way. He was gripping your hips tightly keeping your body flush against his thrusts. You were twitching around him already from the stimulation he had already given you and your gasping breathes match his own soft grunts of exertion perfectly.

"Does my baby doll like it when I use her like this?" He spoke through his deep breaths. You squealed in both embarrassment and affirmation.

"This is what you love, to be used however I want, whenever I want. You really are the perfect doll." He huffed, angling his hips in just the right way to have you panting open-mouthed. Your eyes and lips were glossy with tears and saliva but you didn't care, and to Hongjoong you never have looked more beautiful than you did right at that moment. With a groan he reattached himself to your neck, pecking up and down your jugular showering you in praise.

He was pounding into you relentlessly. Hongjoong always took such good care of you, but in times like this, he allowed himself to be selfish, to use your little cunt as much as he pleased, each time forcing himself deeper and deeper into you. At times like these, he recklessly chased his own high as much as it brought you closer to your own but right now he honestly couldn't care less if you came, you would take it anyway and thank him afterward like a good girl. You could feel each thrust with deadly precision as he railed into you. It was hard to keep quiet with this kind of treatment, because as selfish as it was it still felt so good and every stroke reminded you that you were his.

Your head was positively spinning and you could feel your stomach tighten. Clearly, Hongjoong felt it as well.

"You gonna come dolly? It's ok, I'm getting there as well. Gonna fill you up so well, and you're going to take it so well aren't you." His pace was uneven as he spoke through his grunts. Your walls were clinging to him so perfectly as if you were destined for this.

"Yes, I will! I'll be good, I promise," your hands were clinging a little too tight to his shirt for you much money it cost but just as your sentence concluded you felt yourself snap. You bit your lip to keep your noises contained as waves of pleasure crashed through you and it was only a few more moments for your pulsing walls to pull Hongjoong's orgasm from him. He continued thrusting madly as each movement ripped more pleasure through your body and his cum was shooting into you in ropes keeping you full. It wasn't until Hongjoong felt the pain of overestimation himself that he pulled out.

With barely a moment to catch his breath and adjust himself, he had already sprung into action. You collapsed onto the counter without his support and you could feel his cum dripping out of you as you lay without the strength to move. A few moments of panting later Hongjoong returned to his place between your legs with a damp cloth to clean you up.

He chuckled breathily between your legs and looked up.

As he worked you twitched and mewled with every gentle movement between your oversensitive legs. At one particular stroke of the towel directly over your clit you cried out.

"Joooong!"

"Sorry baby, I know it hurts but what kind of man would I be if I didn't take care of my things," he asked flashing a million-dollar smile. As he finished his work he looked up to meet your eyes.

"Now, what do we say?" he asked.

"Thank you,"

#ateez smut #ateez au #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #hongjoong smut #hongjoong scenarios

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Note

Billy has to stick up for max a lot because of her autism, at school he walks to her class and their afraid of him because just,,, look at him

warnings for mentions of bullying and ableism.

It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry.

At least, Billy had almost never seen her shed a tear in the six years he’d known her but maybe two times: once when she was still little, and just learned her step-family was going to move into her house and replace her real dad forever, and once when she was told they would be leaving California. Both times she’d run off to her room and slammed the door before anyone could see, but Billy had noticed. He always did when it came to Max. Had to when he knew damn well how much trouble he’d be in if things went wrong while he was watching her.

Beyond that there were a few teary eyed looks that got wiped away, maybe a sniffle she’d try to cover up by complaining about her allergies, but it was very rare, even during meltdowns, that she’d be full on crying, tears streaming down her face so quickly she couldn’t wipe them away while sobs wrack through her and make her shake.

So Billy knows first thing that something is very, very wrong when she’s already at his car after school, her face buried in her balled up jacket and doing exactly that. He can hear her from outside the car, so he sighs and knocks on the window before he yanks the door open, but Max doesn’t even flinch, just curls up tighter in the passenger seat and ignores him.

That’s a bad sign too, the fact she isn’t even trying to hide it from him, “What’s a’matter Maxi?”

“None of your business.” She snaps at him, voice thick and wet with tears. It’s unfamiliar seeing her like that and it makes Billy feel tense ang guilt even though he didn’t do it this time, so he tries, “Come on. It totally is my business. You get tears on my leather seats n’the salt’ll stain ‘em up, and you’ll be the one to clean it up.”

All it gets from Max is another heavy sob, instantly hitting him with a pang of regret for trying to be light about this, “Shit. M’sorry, Maxi. Didn’t mean it like that. Just tryin’ ta make you smile.”

“Well it didn’t work!” Max sniffles, throwing her jacket on the dash and finally turning to look at Billy, face flushed red and tracked with tears, her bottom lip still wobbling, “I’ll never ever smile again..”

“Why not? I know it’s not just because of your dumbass brother.” Billy sees a twitch at the corner of her lip, the slightest hint of a smile at him insulting himself, and he counts that as a small win, a sign he’s getting at least a little bit through to Max, so he prompts her again, “What happened at school today, Max?”

Her gaze drops to her lap, and she shrugs her shoulders slightly, stiffly, as she mumbles an explanation, “Remember how I told you about that boy, who's mean to me and my friends?”

“‘Course I do. I never forget anythin’ you tell me.”

Max wipes her nose on her sleeve, and corrects him, “Except for when you forgot I told you I had AV club and you came in the school looking for me and then you got stuck talking to a teacher for like, three hours after I was done.”

“Yeah, well that was one time. N’I was already havin’ a bad day when you told me, thank you very much.” He encourages her, his face serious though their tone is light-hearted, “Keep goin’, what’d this kid do now?”

Again Max’s features close off, and she tries to lie, “He was just.. Well it was my fault.. I-I don’t know.”

“Max. I need the truth.”

Talking fast, like she’s fighting against her thoughts, she makes him promise, “Promise me you won’t do anything dumb, first.”

Billy lifts a hand from the steering wheel, “I won’t. Cross my heart, Maxi.”

At this point, in the silence that builds while Max wills herself to speak, Billy starts to drive, since it’s clear he won’t be going back into that school. It isn’t lost on him the way Max takes a deep breath, out of relief that he meant it when he said he wasn’t going to be dumb and march back in there.

Quickly, once she’s ready, she explains, “Okay. Well he kinda sort of told me that I was annoying ‘cause I laugh too much, and I told him it was just a stim n’that I couldn’t help it but he said that made me a baby and I told him I wasn’t and he called me a retard instead and I was already stressed so I started crying like a dumb baby and he laughed at me and none of my friends said anything or helped me and I just.. yeah.”

All Billy can do is raise his eyebrows, has about a hundred and one pissy and angry things he could say, but he doesn’t utter a word, because he doesn’t want to make Max more upset than she already is.

Clearly just the change in his expression spooks her though, because she insists, sounding like she could cry again at any second, “You promised me!”

He puts his hands up sort of defensively, though he has to grab the wheel again when the car veers, swallowing his anger to tell her calmly, “I didn’t even say anything. I promised I’d be nice and I’m gonna keep that promise.”

She nods hesitantly, more to show trust than agreement, so Billy continues, “But Maxi that’s.. bad. Why don’t you tell a teacher or some shit?”

“Yeah, like they would even do anything. They already hate me for being in their coed classes.” Max mumbles the last part, looking away, “They’d probably rather Troy beat me up so I wouldn’t be bothering them anymore.”

“Tell me you’re being dramatic.”

But Max just shrugs again.

“Fuck, I hate this fucking place.” Billy tears his eyes from the road to look Max in the eyes as she says it, even knowing she can’t return the gesture, “You know you don’t deserve to go through this shit, Maxi?”

“It.. is kinda my fault though.”

He lashes out, just a little, hearing her talk like that about herself. Because it’s not fair that a thirteen year old girl looks at herself that way, yeah, but also because he knows it’s in some ways his fault too, and their parents for the way she’d been brought up, and the shit she'd been around that she even thinks to say shit like that.

He hits the palm of his hand against the rim of his steering wheel, rather he goes to before he catches himself, slowing it before it really hits, tapping it more than anything, “No the fuck it isn’t. It’s nobody’s fault but the assholes that make it into a problem. And fucking Neil’s for dragging us to this close-minded little spot on the map. I hate this fucking town”

“Oh.” Is all Max says.

Billy waits, but he can see she doesn’t know what else to say, so he sighs, “Look, I made my promise to you. Can you make one for me now?”

Max looks confused, “Okay?”

“Promise me that the next time somebody says some shit to you, you stand up for yourself.” Max scrunches up her face, like she immediately disagrees with that, but Billy insists, “Look, I don’t care if you’re crying like a damn baby or you can’t even talk while you do it, just don’t let ‘em walk all over you like that again.”

“I’m not fighting anyone, Billy. I’m not.. like you.”

“That’s not what I said. I said to stand up for yourself. It’s different.”

“Yeah right. How am I supposed to do that?” Billy knows that some asshole had to have said that to Max, that for whatever bullshit reason she couldn’t stick up for herself. Damn kid can’t catch a break in life, so he tells her, at this point not sure if this is even advice or just him ranting at Max, “This kid calls you a slur again, tell ‘im at least you got the diagnosis. Make him feel like he’s the stupid one. And if a teacher ever pulls some shit about the way you learn, tell ‘em you’ll go to the board of education and personally get their asses fired. Your mom would fight for you.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“Then dammit I would. Your friends would if they understood. I know Sinclair would kick ass for you.”

Max’s toughness finally cracks- she learned that from him, to put on that hard exterior and fake it- Billy's determination stronger than her stubbornness. She looks up at him with a look in her eye that says he’s said all the right things, “You really think so?”

“No shit. Big brothers know all about this kind of bull.”

“I guess.” Max smiles just a little, and tells him matter-of-factly, “But you’re not that kind of big brother. You’re too cool.”

“Hell yeah I am.” Billy hums proudly, adding with humor in his tone, “But it’s even more cool to be nice to your little sister than it is to be an asshole. Remember that one.”

Max nods, listing it off on her fingers, “Stand up for myself, but don’t be an asshole, and Billy's secretly a big softie. I think I got it.”

“Good. Now out of my car, shitbird.”

Giggling in that way that says she knows she got him, Max swings open her door and runs into the house, leaving Billy to watch after her. He turns off the car but doesn’t get out, trying to bury his worry for her under his expression, not because he didn’t care, or even because he didn’t want her to know, he was long past that, but because he was worried what would happen if Susan saw his concern.

She’d weasel the truth out of Max if she knew something was up, and somehow, despite her promises, Neil would find out once he dragged his ass back home from the bar later tonight, and then it would somehow be Billy’s fault. He just hopes, if Max lets slip about the bullying, she at least doesn’t get too mouthy and mention the part where she was crying.

That was a Friday when that all went down, so Billy has the weekend, which thankfully does not include any snitching, to decide what he’s going to do about it. It’s not like he was ever going to go beat up on any tweens anyways, but he promised Max he wouldn’t be dumb, and he knew that meant no passive aggressive bullshit either. At least not while she could see him.

Because that ruled out like, half of his options, he’s still kind of clueless on what he’s going to do that next Monday morning when schools back in. He’s sitting in the middle school parking lot, fingers twitching against the steering wheel without a cigarette to busy them with, waiting for 7:30 on the dot when Max always goes in.

At this point, he’s considering just ditching with her to go get ice cream or something so she doesn’t have to face any bullies today, but his epiphany comes in the form of watching Jonathan Byers walk the littler one all the way to the front doors, his hand protectively hooked through the handle on the kid’s backpack. When the clock ticks the right time and Max opens her door, he knows what he’s going to do, and he turns the car off.

She freezes, can tell he’s up to something. “What are you doing?”

“Nothin’. M’just walking you in.” She glares at him in response to the smug smile he wears, so he swears, “Honest. I got basketball today. No way I’m missing that shit ‘cause I fought some little kid.”

“You’re lying.”

“Can’t I just be nice to my little sister?”

From the look on her face, she’s still skeptical, but it's enough to get Max to agree to it, grabbing her bag from the backseat and mumbling, “Whatever. Just don’t embarrass me.”

Billy chuckles, giving Max a head start towards the building before he follows, “Hey now, I thought just yesterday I was your cool older brother.”

“Cool older brothers don’t walk their sisters to the door.” She calls it over her shoulder, and Billy can’t help but tease her more, correcting her in a sing-songy voice, “Who said I was stoppin’ at the door? I’m walking you all the way to your class.”

“Oh god.” Max stops walking, but Billy keeps up, this time pulling ahead enough to call back to her, “Come on shitbird. Don’t wanna be late.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, right. You love that I would take the time outta my morning to do this for you.” He props open the door for Max with his boot, pretending not to notice the way all the little middle school kids at their lockers turn to gawk at them, letting her shove past him with her face flushed deeper than the color of her hair in embarrassment.

Pulling on her backpack straps, like she’s trying to physically make herself smaller, she mumbles, “No, I actually hate you.”

He almost feels bad for embarrassing her, but that’s the other part of his job, and he reminds her of that, “Good. There’s some more advice for ya, little sisters should always hate their big brothers, or he’s doing something wrong.”

They get a little ways down the hall, Max’s confidence going up just some as the shock wears off and people start to turn away, but Billy hardly notices. He doesn’t even come close to being bothered by eighth grade politics anymore, and if he’s intimidating the poor kids, well that’s exactly what he’s there for.

When he’s met with a particularly harsh glare from some snob nosed brat, who happens to remind him a lot of one Tommy Hagan, he bumps into Max on purpose, and announces louder than he needs to in hopes the kid’ll know he was looking for him, “That the little asshole s’been givin’ you trouble?”

Glancing nervously between him and Billy, she nods, “Yeah..”

Billy just nods, a cross between acknowledgment and judgement, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You said-“ Again Max panics, but Billy cuts her off this time with a simple assurance of, “And I didn’t do anything.”

Her eyebrows knit together, realizing that that wasn’t a lie, “I.. guess you didn’t.”

“What’s your first class anyways?”

“We report to the cafeteria before first period.” She informs him, leading him that way, but he hooks two fingers through the strap on her bag to stop her, “Not gonna happen, Maxi. Being shoved in a tiny room with three hundred other kids makes you feel all ‘meltdowny’ I think was your exact word. So you’re not doin’ that anymore. I just decided.”

“But that’s against the rules.”

“Yeah, so’s me bein’ in this building during school hours, but nobody’s saying shit to me, are they?”

Max narrows her eyes at him then, and he knows he said too much, that he’s been found out, “That’s your plan isn’t it.”

There’s a crooked smile on his face he can’t hide as he plays innocent-like, “What is?”

Max pushes him a little and he pretends to misstep while she accuses him, “Coming into school and being all intimidating so nobody will bug me anymore.”

“Pfft, yeah right.” Billy denies again, getting nothing but an eye roll in response at first, but when it’s clear it’s he’s not going to give up and admit it, Max does, glancing shortly over at him, “Well thanks anyways, Billy.”

She adds, realizing he’s wandering with no idea where they’re going, having never been in the middle school himself, “My first class is in B-18.”

“Which one is’at?” He asks, just curious, but Max deflects the question, giving a short, “It’s taught by Mr. Clarke.”

Just from how quiet she is, Billy can tell that she's hiding something, “Max. You seriously don’t even know what class you’re in?”

“No I don’t, okay?” Max stops in the middle of the hallway, ranting at her brother, “It’s already not the same as my old school, and then they moved my schedule all around again after they decided I didn’t qualify for special ed, so now I just go where I’m s’posed to, and I know my teachers better than my classes.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“No. There’s nothing anyone can do so it doesn’t matter.” Her tone implies she thought a lot about it, maybe even wanted to, but decided not to.

Billy insists right back, these past two days feeling like he’s constantly petitioning for Max to trust and rely on him, “Oh I could do somethin’. You know I could.”

“I do. But I don’t want you to. Sticking up for me is enough.”

That’s what makes Billy understand. The firmness in her voice says everything she needs him to hear: Max doesn’t want Billy to do for her what she can handle. This is bigger than just being the older brother. This is her setting boundaries, asking for help without wanting to be controlled. That’s something he never really got how to do, being raised by a dictator and all, but it’s something she needs. Sometimes he forgets that.

He doesn’t say anything else, just lets it sit while Max takes him down some stairs to the right room. She stops outside, scuffing up the dusty marble floors with the toe of her Chuck Taylor’s, “Could you.. stick around for a little bit in case he says something?”

Billy clicks his tongue, remarking, “I dunno. I got a class in a few..”

But his sarcasm falls short with Max, which, that’s his bad for not realizing that it would, and her face falls, “Oh, well I guess I can just-”

“Was just funnin’ you shitbird. I don’t give a fuck about my classes.” Max grimaces in that all too familiar way of uncertainty, so he promises, “I’ll be right out here. Go talk to your teacher, ‘n if he says some shit to you, remember I only promised not be stupid about the bully.”

He at least gets a smile for that one, before Max rolls her eyes, “You’re not fighting my science teacher, dummy.”

“Whatever. Just get in there, brat.”

He can see Max holding back a smile as she listens, bounding into her classroom with another quick glance back at Billy to check that he wasn’t lying and going to walk away.

Billy waits until the door fall closed to lean against the row of lockers opposite it, watching her through the little meshed over windows. By now, he’s pretty well versed on what arguments with angry authority figures look like, and the conversation between Max and her teacher is not one. He still stays though, just because Max asked him to, but maybe, just maybe a little for himself, a reassurance that the second he leaves shit isn’t going to get worse, and Max’ll have at least someone other than her equally as nerdy little friends behind her.

Then they both turn and give him a little wave, Max and her teacher, an acknowledgment to Billy that this new routine was indeed going to work out. The way the school district had handled everything else, he wonders if the guy even knew Max wasn’t like his other students until now.

Still, seeing that, Billy gives a half nod in response, and decides his job is done here, at least until tomorrow when he does the same. Max’ll get used to it, and his hope is that the little bully brats won’t. He’ll just have to keep them on their toes.

Which is exactly why, while on his way out, Billy has to break his promise to Max, just slightly, and do something dumb. He finds the Troy kid again, and waits until the little punk is at his peak to knock him down a few pegs.

He’s complaining about some teacher, which is pretty typical for a thirteen-fourteen year old kid, but the other things he’s said to Max make it not as relatable, not as innocent. So he does what any logical, mature adult would do, and scares the piss out of him.

Billy waits until the kid gets a laugh from his troop of assholes, and slams the locker door beside him shut, uncaring of who’s it was. All eyes are quickly on him, all too wide against too pale faces. It’s too easy.

“What are you little shits whining about over here?”

The one in charge steps forward, trying to be tough despite the way he has to practically bend backwards to look up at Billy’s face, “None of your business. Did the freak send you after us to scare us? It ain’t gonna work.”

“Oh I’m not here to scare you. I’m just here to give you your final warning. We’re past the point of intimidation. Matter of fact, next time I have to come here.. it won’t be looking so good for you.”

“You’re lying.” The kid accuses, despite the obvious doubt written behind his features.

Billy can work with that.

“I might be. But I’m still an authority figure over your sorry little asses, and if you don’t start respecting that..” He bends down a little further, still nowhere near the kid but making his whole troupe flinche back, and drops his pitch, “well, I can’t promise what’ll happen to ya, but unlike your teachers, I don’t play by the rules. You got that?”

Straightening himself back out, Billy pretends to start walking away before he adds, “Oh, and if you pick on my kid sister ever again, I will know. Just remember that, uh, Troy was it?”

The kid nods dumbly, literally vibrating with something like fear, and Billy can say he’s pretty satisfied with that. He pats the kid on the shoulder, a touch so gentle it wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly, and notably couldn’t get him in any trouble, but the little shit scampers off, three other puffy head bullies trailing after him.

Everyone sees it happen, Billy with his nasty smirk and his distinguishably high-schooler way of carrying himself, Troy running for the hills in the other direction. He leaves feeling like his point has been thoroughly proven.

It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry, but it’s even harder to get away with it, and Billy knows it won’t be a problem from now on.

#billy & max #billy hargrove #max mayfield #autistic max #tw r slur #tw ableism mention #tw bullying mention #ej writer #story by ej!#anon my beloved #you so read my mind with this #I had half a fic written out like this for ages and then this ask popped up (a while ago. I’m sorry I’ve been so slow at requests)#so have this little projection fest my beloved anon #i mighta went a little crazy with this #<3 <3 <3 #thank you for sending me this! I love requests!

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buggaberry · 3 years

Note

For your Bad Things Happen Bingo Card, how about "Passing Out From Pain" with Ladynoir? I'm a sucker for Ladybug freaking out if something bad happens to Chat Noir ;)

pairing: ladynoir

word count: 3981

warnings: character injury

a/n: this is over a year late im so sorry but i hope you enjoy ;o;

Read on AO3

__________________________________________

The Parisian sky was dark and cloudy as rain poured down heavily, soaking Ladybug’s hair. She futilely tried to shield herself from the barrage of droplets with her hands.

The rain came on rather suddenly, there were sparse clouds earlier but it was otherwise clear. She’d been sitting on a rooftop waiting to begin patrol.

Chat Noir was late. Though it wasn’t uncommon for him to show up later than her, Ladybug couldn’t help her gnawing concern this time around.

These past few days there’s been something off about him. It took her a while to notice since she’d been worried about Adrien, who was recently discharged from the hospital after having been in an accident.

She could never quite place her finger on it because he’d always throw on that big cheeky grin of his before she could catch his prior expression. Chat fought the same as he always did for the most part, but she noticed that he got knocked over easier and he would breathe rather laboriously at the end of their battles.

Ladybug knew her partner wasn’t well, in what manner was beyond her. The thought had crossed that perhaps he was resting, which would ease her mind, but he would’ve called in by now to tell her. He could always be too fatigued to transform if he was exhausted, but Plagg would have shown up by now if that were the case.

She would remain stubbornly at their meeting spot until there was a sign or if she ended up caving into the weather. Even if it was just to kick him and send him home to rest.

Ladybug attempted to shake off some of the water that soaked her, pulling out her yo-yo and spinning it over her head to shield her from the rain. It was much better, her arm would get tired after a while, but she was determined to tough it out.

It turned out that toughing out wouldn’t have to last long, as she heard a splash and a thud from behind her. Her heart leapt up to her throat in anticipation, only to drop to the pit of her stomach when she turned around.

There Chat Noir was, a soft sheen covering him from the rain, soaked to the bone. Aside from his slightly hunched posture and dull eyes that wouldn’t brighten despite his soft smile, his skin looked pale. It was undeniably pale.

Ladybug let her yo-yo drop from its rapid twirling, placing it back on her hip before scurrying to stand up and approach him.

Chat’s smile strained, trying to give her a better one, though her look of concern didn’t waver for a moment.

“Chat…”

Chat Noir grimaced in return, his smile wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“Hey, Bug,” he tried, attempting to keep his demeanor as straight as he could.

“You look terrible, what are you doing out here?” Ladybug said with brows furrowed in both worry and frustration.

Chat opened and closed his mouth a few times before pursing his lips.

“And it’s pouring out here, you’re gonna make yourself sick! Are you nuts?!” she exclaimed, both her hands fists at her sides.

Chat’s ears drooped atop his head, he looked away in shame remaining silent. Ladybug’s features softened as she gazed at him, shoving her frustration down in an attempt to calm down. Her hand started to reach out to him only to pull away, guilt tugging at her heart for yelling at him.

“I’m sorry… I—… I shouldn’t have yelled,” she said quietly, looking down, “I’ve been worried about you.”

Chat’s eyes returned to her, his smile was much more genuine than the one he was giving her earlier, “It’s alright, I’m alright. I guess I kind of deserved that.”

Ladybug chewed on the inside of her cheek before picking her head back up. He was a lot closer to her face than before, he looked much worse. His eyes weren’t as wide open as they usually were, his lips were paler, each breath he took seemed almost tedious. There were slight tremors that ran through his body occasionally, which could have been because he was cold, but his winces that came after made her think otherwise. It made her chest clench.

“You should go rest, Kitty. You don’t look well,” she whispered while placing a hand on his cheek, caressing it with her thumb, brushing droplets away. There was a brief look of surprise that flickered in his eyes from the action.

Chat sighed, his face pressing into her palm, “If My Lady insists, I suppose I can leave patrol to you.”

“I mean it, Chat. I don’t wanna see you again until you’re feeling better. I need you, but I need you healthy, got it? If you’re sick or hurt, you need to be resting,” Ladybug said, pushing his soaking bangs away from his face.

Chat glanced away, his expression was unreadable but he nodded.

“Good,” Ladybug sighed and pulled her hand away, Chat pouted at the loss of her touch. She wasn’t completely satisfied with his answer though, hesitating before asking, “It’s nothing I need to be worried about, right?”

He let out a soft chuckle before smiling and brushing her dripping bangs away like she had done to him, “I’m not dying if that's what you were wondering. I promise.” He had said it with such sincerity Ladybug couldn’t help but stare at him with wide eyes. There wasn’t a joke about nine lives or a hint of nonchalance in his answer, he was being honest which filled her with relief.

“Do I look that bad?” He snorted, tilting his head to the side endearingly. Ladybug could feel her lip quivering a bit as she turned her head away. “Yes, you do.” she wanted to say.

She heard Chat breathe in a bit like he was about to say something, only for her to suddenly be tackled over to the ground. A loud bang followed, making her ears ring.

Chat painfully groaned from above her, making her snap her gaze up to check if he’d gotten hit. There wasn’t any visible damage, but she still gingerly held him as she got up.

“Can you get up?” she said with urgency, glancing around to make sure another hit wouldn’t come flying in. Chat Noir nodded, so she held him from his forearms to help him up. Ladybug brought his arm around her shoulders, holding him firmly at his waist as she pulled out her yo-yo to swing away, not catching his scrunched-up face.

Though the minute they were airborne, there was a bombardment of large spikes flying in their direction. The rain splashing in her face wasn’t helping her as she tried to maneuver away, she ended up skidding as she landed in the street.

An odd figure approached them from a distance, humanoid with tentacle-like limbs it walked with that sprouted from its back, pitch black and oozing goop. An Akuma that looked like it could have come straight out of some sort of horror movie.

Of course, there would be an Akuma in the midst of pouring rain and her partner basically out of commission. Ladybug was plotting the types of violence she’d resort to when she confronted Hawkmoth.

She spun her yo-yo over their heads to protect them from the rain, though it was kind of pointless since they were already utterly drenched.

The Akuma suddenly lurched forward towards them and in hindsight, maybe she should have spun the yo-yo in front of them to protect them from it. It was fast, too fast for her to move. Chat Noir pulled out his staff from beside her and extended it, quickly moving in front of her to block the incoming limb about to ram into them.

He tried to push it back, only for another one to coil around him and toss him to the side. “Chat!” Ladybug gasped and began to sprint over to him, only to get whipped in the opposite direction. She landed with a thud on her back, the wind knocking out of her lungs.

Just as she began to get up, another spike came flying in, going just over her head and impaling the wall next to her. She whipped around to look at it then back at the unnamed Akuma. The spikes were its limbs, they solidified when they disconnected from its back, growing back promptly after. How quaint.

It began to make a move towards her partner, who still hadn’t gotten back up. Ladybug saw red as she tore the spike out of the wall and chucked it as hard as she could at the Akuma.

She sprinted over to Chat Noir, relieved to see him blinking and breathing, albeit, weakly. She wasted no time tucking her hands behind his back and knees, lifting him up from the ground.

Ladybug whipped her head up to check on the Akuma, who was currently immobilized, tentacles stuck to the ground from the spike she had thrown. It was starting to regenerate, but it was enough time for her to get Chat somewhere safe.

She made haste, sprinting back home, up to her balcony. Her home was decently far away from where the Akuma was.

Chat was quiet the whole time, as she laid him down on her sling chair and pulled out a throw blanket to put over him. Ladybug would’ve put him in her room, but there was no way for her to justify putting him in a stranger’s house. It would have been better to hide him and protect him from the rain, but it was too risky. The drape above the chair was enough to shield him from the rain, thankfully.

“Is this alright?” Ladybug whispered as she tucked him in. He only nodded and gave her a brief smile.

She furrowed her brows at him before jolting back when she heard a distant crash. The Akuma must have gotten free. She had to go back.

Ladybug turned back towards him, reassuringly grabbing his wrist, “I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?” she said, backing away and swinging in the direction of the noise.

The pit of her chest was filled with anxiety the entire time, her gut practically screaming to go back and stay with him. There was something wrong, she could see it in his eyes.

She took a little longer than she would’ve liked fighting the Akuma, her frustration growing as the battle went on and causing her to continuously slip up.

Ladybug didn’t think she’d ever smashed an akumatized object so hard in her entire life.

She managed to keep the Akuma far from her home the entire time, which didn’t make her any less urgent to get back to her balcony.

The Akuma turned out to be a director who’d gotten upset at the refusal of promoting their horror movie. Ladybug didn’t pay much attention to anything else, her partner was the only one on her mind.

She promptly ran away, out of sight after casting her miracle cure, detransforming in an alleyway to feed Tikki before transforming once again.

Ladybug returned to find Chat Noir sitting up, his legs dangling off the side of the chair, watching raindrops gather from the brim of the sheet above him and dripping down. His eyes had this sort of mesmerization in them that was akin to what a cat might have.

She let out a puff of air, he looked okay.

One of his cat ears twitched at the sound of her footsteps before he turned his attention towards her.

Ladybug smiled gently at him, "Hey, are you feeling any better?" she asked.

Chat Noir paused for a brief moment before nodding, "Yeah, I think I'm alright," he said, his voice rather quiet.

This was probably the moment she should send him off to go home, part of her felt like that would be wrong.

Before she could say anything to him, he started to get up.

"I should get going now," he said as he walked past her and towards the railing. He barely spared her a glance, he sounded a bit rushed and panicked.

Ladybug turned around to protest, but he just as quickly hunched over and stumbled with a hiss of pain.

She grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him, her prior panic filling her all over again. The moment she held him, he leaned into her, knees wobbling.

"Chat? Chat, what's going on?"

He didn't respond, he had a grimace painted over his features and he was panting.

Chat Noir went limp in her arms in mere moments.

"Chat!" Ladybug cried out, lowering him down to the ground to lay his head on her lap.

She quickly checked his pulse and breathing, both of which were perfectly stable. He had fainted.

What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to take him to the hospital?

There was no fever or anything, so he wasn't ill, he was clearly in pain. Ladybug couldn't think of anything other than that he must have been injured somehow, badly at that. Which made her worry if he was bleeding at all under the suit.

She tried tapping on his cheek a few times to rouse him, but he wouldn't budge.

Her best bet was to wait for him to wake up to see if he could go home or if she needed to take him to the emergency room.

Even if he was mostly alright, she wasn't entirely sure if she trusted him enough to not pass out again on his way back.

The rain had at least eased up, she lifted him up bridal style and carefully laid him back on her chair.

Ladybug was conflicted, they were fairly exposed up on the balcony and both had gotten utterly soaked. She didn't want him to catch a cold on top of everything else.

She debated between walking into the bakery as Ladybug to ask her parents for help or jumping straight into her room to try and care for him.

There was also Alya, she could call Alya for help, she'd understand. Right?

She thought about detransforming and saying Ladybug asked Marinette to watch him, but then she'd feel like a jerk for ditching him as Ladybug.

She placed her head down on Chat's lap and groaned, "Why do you have to do this to me, kitty?" She huffed and took his hand, caressing it with her thumb.

She was just going to have to take him into her room as Ladybug, that seemed like the best option. Her parents would have been ideal, but they were definitely busy in the bakery at this time of day.

Ladybug crawled over to her trapdoor, pulling it open before standing up. She picked him up, adjusting her grip so his head was leaning on her and not bobbing about.

She carefully lowered him onto her bed, gingerly placing his head down first on her pillow. Taking another pillow, she tucked it beneath his legs. They were both dripping water onto her sheets, she'd have to wash them later.

After making sure he looked comfortable enough, she climbed down to grab some clean towels and a warm fluffy blanket that had been sprawled on her chaise.

She set the blanket to the side, unfolding a towel first to tap his face and neck dry before going at his hair. His hair was still damp, but at least it wasn't sopping wet anymore. She then dried off the rest of him, chucking the wet towel to the ground when she was done to pick it up later.

Ladybug dried herself just a bit with the second towel she’d picked up before tossing it along with the other. She picked up the fluffy blanket she had set to the side, tucking him in and pulling her comforter atop him as well.

Letting out a sigh, she let herself lay down beside him, staring at his calm expression. Her hand moved up to brush his bangs away, lingering beside one of his leathery cat ears. She gently scratched right behind it, usually that was enough to get him to purr. It was a little unsettling how he didn't even twitch.

She had to place her hand on his chest just to reassure herself that his heart was beating normally and his breathing was even.

Ladybug closed her eyes, keeping her palm to his chest. There wasn't much else she could do other than to stay by his side until he awoke.

The number of things possibly wrong with him kept flitting through her mind. She wondered how bad it was and if he had family at home worrying about him right now if he was supposed to be resting. In that moment, she couldn’t help but briefly be reminded of Adrien. The extent of his injuries was unknown, but it seemed pretty serious from what she’d heard. Adrien was in a car accident, her only knowledge of the situation was that it seemed intentional and was currently being investigated. If she thought about it, the timing of Chat’s unwell demeanor matched up pretty closely but… Adrien would never sneak out after sustaining such injuries, right? Chat Noir had been out and about for a while as well, she didn’t think it was anything severe.

She was being silly, it was just her concern speaking.

Chat Noir shifted a bit, causing Ladybug to immediately sit up and efficiently end her train of thought. A small noise emitted from his throat before his eyes fluttered open.

“Chat! You’re awake!” Ladybug gasped, throwing her arms around him but in no way hard enough to inflict pain.

Chat Noir looked dazed, shifting his head around to take in his surroundings.

“Are we in Marinette’s room?”

Ladybug felt her face pale, pulling away.

“Oh, right. I uh… I panicked and I asked this girl for help and she was kind enough to let us borrow her room,” she fibbed with a nervous laugh.

“... I see,” Chat replied, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, “Make sure to tell her I said thank you… and that I’m sorry for any trouble I caused.”

“Of course, I’ll bring her ‘thank you’ flowers or something, no worries. She didn’t mind helping out at all,” Ladybug waved off. She hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips, “We were both really worried about you, you know? I was scared half to death… You weren’t any trouble at all, I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said, smiling reassuringly and ruffling his hair before pausing and pulling her hand back.

“You are okay, right? Should I be taking you to the hospital now or—”

Chat Noir chuckled a little at her demeanor, finding it endearing, “No, it’s alright. I think I’ll just tell someone I passed out when I go home, then I’ll go if I need to,” he said.

Ladybug nodded along, furrowing her brows, “How are you gonna get back home? You passed out after barely taking a few steps on your way back.”

Chat Noir grimaced at that, “Right. Do you think I could give you an address close to my place where you can drop me off and then I can make the rest of the way back?” he said in a mostly joking manner. But to Ladybug, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Yeah, I can do that. Just type it in my yo-yo, we can get going right now,” she said as she opened up her yo-yo and handed it over to him, leaving his mouth gaping.

“Wait, really? You don’t have to, I don’t wanna trouble you, you’ve done more than enough. You probably have to go back home now, I can probably make it back on my own,” Chat insisted, sitting up a bit trying to hand the yo-yo back to her.

Ladybug pushed it back towards him and shook her head, “Nope. We’re going. I want you to get any help you need as soon as possible.”

Chat Noir pouted, reluctantly starting to type in an address, handing it back to her when he finished, “There.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Come on, up. I’m picking you up,” she said, already removing the blankets on top of him and tucking her hands under him.

Chat Noir didn’t have a second to complain, grumbling in her arms and she carried him out bridal style.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” she said, trying to be as careful as she could. Chat nodded back before tucking his face into her shoulder. Ladybug had to fight down a blush from his close proximity.

They were airborne in mere moments, Ladybug hurried as quickly as she could to the location he’d given her. She didn’t want to waste a moment if he was in need of any medical attention.

Once she reached the rooftop, she gingerly let him down, still holding him up from his arm.

“This is the spot, right?” she asked.

“Yeah… thank you,” he said quietly.

Ladybug couldn’t quite get over this quiet and reserved demeanor of his, it only made her more worried.

She chewed on the inside of her lip in thought before attempting to toss on a cheesy grin, “It was no purr-oblem, kitten.”

Chat Noir was quiet after that, Ladybug's grin was wavering but she tried to keep it up, throwing in a finger gun. The gesture alone probably took years off of her own life.

He eventually snorted softly, followed by a quiet melodious laugh. Ladybug’s heart briefly stuttered at the genuinity of it.

“Thank you…” he said once again after catching his breath, it was filled with much more sincerity.

Ladybug coughed, lightly punching his shoulder, “Yeah, right. Just don’t do anything stupid like that again.” Chat smiled, giving her head a little pat.

“I’ve been really worried about you and you… you just really matter to me, okay? So… get better soon. Please go home and try to rest,” she pleaded, voice wavering, Chat Noir froze in place.

He shifted to pull her to his chest, delicately hugging her.

“I will, I promise,” he whispered into her hair.

Ladybug breathed in shakily and nodded, “Good.”

She pulled away from his embrace, staring up into his eyes. She brought her hand up and cupped his cheek, leaning in and tenderly pecking the other, “Go. Come back to me healthy,” she said as she backed away.

Chat stared at her in awe, his pale complexion tinting pink.

“Ah,” he said after a beat or two of surprise.

He nodded, “Yes, of course.”

Once he seemed to regain his senses, he approached her, brushing her bangs to the side and pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Till we meet again?”

Ladybug blinked a few times, holding her breath for a second to repress a noise of surprise. She cleared her throat, “Even if it takes weeks or months, take it easy until you’re better. I can handle things.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and spun him around, mostly to hide her red face, “Now shoo.”

Chat Noir chuckled, “As my lady wishes,” he said before steadily taking off.

Ladybug puffed a sigh of relief watching him go off. Though she realized she shouldn’t keep staring since his home was probably nearby. She quickly averted her gaze, spinning around and pulling out her yo-yo to head home.

When she landed in her bed and destransformed, she did so in a plop.

Marinette’s sheets were still damp from earlier, though she felt far too drained and fumbled with her feelings to do anything about it right now.

All she could do was think about him, he was all that was on her mind.

She idly wondered if the kwamis would let them exchange letters, Marinette had a feeling it would be a while before she could see him again. As long as he was bright again once more.

#Bad Things Happen Bingo #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Ladynoir #hurt/comfort #angst #character injury #passing out from pain #buggy writes #feel free to send requests of the remaining prompts~#this was longer than i meant for it to be oops #again i am so sorry anon this was la te

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junova · 3 years

Text

never been in love — single dad!steve (headcannon)

pairing: single dad!steve x teacher!reader

abstract: the one where steve likes you a lot and his daughter does too.

warnings: it gets a lil smutty towards the end (18+) not really tho, this is so much longer than i intended jfc, bucky being kind of a dick, hint of daddy kink, cheating?

[a/n]: this was totally inspired by @marvelouspeterparker post. i read it and it pulled me out of my writers block so thank u ! also this is so unnecessarily long but i have no excuse other than im a hoe for steve rogers??

*** gif isnt mine — i forgot creds srry :/

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

oh god this one is going to hUrt me

but can you just imagine when steve really gets to see you, not just in passing as he picks up his daughter

he nearly shits himself because how in the hell had he not noticed you before?

one any given day, he’s right on time to pick up shai

he’s always punctual

— until today

not only was he late, but he was an hour late and in his mess of mind he was fully convinced they’d never let him bring her to the school again

to make matters even worse his phone had died and his cable was nowhere to be found in his dying, old pick up truck

not to mention his sweet little angel, more than likely frightened out of her mind

— but he was so wrong

practically in a full sprint, he quickly made his way to shai’s classroom when he found her perfectly peaceful while she talked with her teacher

even though, she was facing him and could see him she paid him no mind. it didn’t faze her that her father was so late because you had stayed to keep her company

“well, it looks like he finally decided to show up.” shai spoke to you, loud enough so her father in the doorway could her. the edge in her tone pushing sassy all the way through

of course as soon as shai found her way in steve’s arms he profusely apologized and graciously thanked you for staying with her saying he would repay you for it

— and it definitely had nothing to do with how attracted steve was to you. nope. not at all

you dismissed his gesture, it was a delight to be with shai and you told him such but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let it go

— and he didn’t

the very next day, when he dropped shai off and handed you a dozen pastries he had made fresh this morning

the way you gushed over it, cheekbones high and happy over his kindness made steve’s heart swell

they were still warm and you just couldn’t believe he made these with his bare hands

it was easily the kindest gift anyone ever gave you and you told him that too before you could stop yourself

then he just started bringing you a pastry or two every other day, even if you’d refused them the next day he would bring double the amount he brought the day before

you stopped refusing him bc you already felt guilt since he wouldn’t let you pay for a single one

after two weeks, steve asked you out. you weren’t shocked he had, he had been buttering you up but no matter how charming you thought he was you couldn’t.

he was a parent of one of your students and you just couldn’t allow yourself to go there

it wasn’t necessarily against the rules, but it was frowned upon

accepting your rejection with grace and humility he grabbed shai before bidding you goodbye that day

you thought that was the end of it, until you saw him the following friday night at the bar you frequented at

— alone

you wanted to talk to him, the tequila in your system giving you an irresistible urge to but you were on a date with on of your friends’ coworkers

james buchanan barnes

he definitely was a smooth taker, those dazzling blue eyes sparkling like they knew something you didn’t

you really wanted to be interested, he was a loose shape of a man you’d dream about. maybe you could even pretend he was the one you really wanted

not when steve was sitting at the bar, alone.

but you left that thought behind and you convinced yourself you really were smitten with bucky

two weeks later, bucky and you had been on a few dates and he seemed to like you but you knew you had to end things.

whatever little fling you had going on

your heart got more of kick when steve used to bring you pastries in the morning before class than when bucky kissed you after your first date.

then he asked if you would come to his house, he was having a small get together and would love if you’d be there

— reluctantly, you went

bucky’s friends were nice, each one of them making you feel welcomed into their tight circle.

it turned into a better night than you thought and bucky seemed to be super touchy, guiding you onto his lap as you sat around the fire in his patio

natasha, bucky’s long friend since high school, had you all in fits on the stories from the past

everyone was too busy reeling to recognize his presence but you had the to be blind not to

there steve stood gaping at you’d like you were a ghost, certainly surprised to see you perched on bucky’s lap

yep you wanted to just crawl under a whole a stay there forever

“Glad to see you showed up, punk.” Bucky gesturing for him to make his way over to you, even when you pulled at the sleeve of his henley to stop him.

— of course your efforts to tame bucky in did nothing

he grabbed a cold one before making his way to the two of you

and dear god was it as awkward as ever

“Honey, this is my best friend, Steve.” Honey? He had never called you anything besides your name. By the way he pulled you even closer to him made you think there was something else entirely going on.

you certainly didn’t miss the way steve’s jaw clenched or as he held his right hand picking at the piece of bark rather aggressively

“Um, we actually know each other. Shai is in my class, actually.” Feeling rather suffocated by the weight of Bucky’s arms now that the man you felt too much for was here. “Really? I had no idea.”

steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, infuriated. it wasn’t just that bucky knew you were shai’s teacher but he knew just how much steve liked you.

he didn’t shut up about you since he you with his daughter — something inside him changing in an instance

it wasn’t just that he thought you were the most wonderful woman he’d me — shai also raved over you

shai’s mother leaving a gaping whole in her heart she didn’t quite understand at the age of five was filled by you

you were kind to her, your patience never wearing thin as you gave her the attention she deserved

it may be your job but you enjoyed every moment with her and steve noticed

“Oh? She’s the one you would wake up an hour early for to make the pastries?” Bucky blurted out.

he woke up an early just to make those for you?

the way steve looked at the ground, grinding his fingertip against the label of his beer made you want to cry. his neck flaring pink at the embarrassment only made you wish you were in his arm instead

— even more than you already did

“You really should have seen the smile on his face when he came back from the school gushing over how much you liked what he had made.”

Bucky tightened his arm around your waist before saying. “Or when you reject him, I still can’t decide which is better.”

“That’s enough, James.” You tone harsh, before you ripped yourself away.

you couldn’t even look at steve, you don’t think your heart could handle it so you practically sprinted to your car

you needed to get the fuck out of here

until you reached for you keys, but they weren’t in your pocket

“Looking for these?” His hands looping through your keys giving it a twirl. “Star Wars fan?” Steve gesturing to you baby yoda key chain. “Maybe just a tad.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He tried to ignore the jump you ignited in his heart whenever you said his name.

handing your keys, he turned away from you, heading back into the house until you yanked him forward

the force so strong he though he was going to body slam into you before he pushing his weight against the car.....and you

“I’m sorry about, Bucky. I never would have gone out with him if I knew you two were friends.” You admitted while Steve just stood there looking embarrassed.

god did you always have to ruin everything

“I-I just, um, have these feelings for you. These very complicated feelings that make me want to throw every morally sound thought I have to the wind.”

“Which thought did you want to get rid of right now?” Stepping outside of his comfort zone, Steve grabbed your hands and just on instinct alone you cradled his face like it was the most natural act in the world. Like you had done it a thousand times.

“I mean, for one I’m telling myself I shouldn’t be this close to you.” Steve taking you by surprise as he tilted his head to the side, kissing the palm of your hand.

did he really just-

“What else, sweet girl?”

oh, you really were a goner

“I don’t know.” You spoke softly. Admitting to not only him but yourself — you couldn’t think when he was this close to you.

“Oh, but I think you do.” Steve diving right in as he latched his plump lips to your neck. Making whispers of his name drip off your tongue.

before you register what was happening steve had you pressed up against the car, rough hands gripping your thighs as your legs clinged to his slim waist

not to mention the ratio from his broad shoulders to his hips had your pussy drowning more

making you forget why you’d ever rejected him in the first place and he had hardly even touched you yet

then his lips met yours and you knew he had ruined you for anyone else. no one would ever compare to him and not anyone from your past did.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, completely in awe of what Steve was capable of doing to you in a matter of seconds. The proud smirk he wore in great contrast to what he felt back by the fire when he saw your body entangled with Bucky.

“If I ever see you sitting on my best friend’s lap again, I will go fucking crazy. Do you understand?” Steve eyes burning with envy.

“Yes, Daddy.”

brb gonna cry that i don’t have my very own steve rogers rip

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tags: @tonystankschild @parkastoria @kayteewritessteve

#bc i’m too lazy to actually write this out #maybe one day 🧐👀#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers hc #steve rogers headcanon #singe dad!steve #steve rogers au #maritza writes

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