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#and then six years later it’s like... well the phase isn’t going away. this is still here
steviewashere · 3 months
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Make a Touchdown on My Heart
Rating: General CW: Doesn't Apply For This One! Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington, Super Bowl XXII, Steve Harrington is a Sports Nerd, Domestic Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt, Fluff, Dialogue Heavy (Some facts in here may be inaccurate, I am not a sports enthusiast. All of these came from the internet, so blame it if I'm wrong.) For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is being seen and known."
💕—————💕
It’s January, 1988. Their apartment is warm and lit by amber bulbs. Four in the afternoon in Chicago, work days over, dinner slow cooking in the crockpot on the counter. Eddie’s already dressed down in pajamas, grabbing a couple beers from their fridge, waiting for Steve to arrive home. Domestic. He’s been domesticated. He’s warm with contentment.
The plan is that Steve is going to get home, change out of his Family Video get up (because, yes, the video store has followed him to Illinois), get into his sweats and a Denver Bronco’s t-shirt, rush to get his sneakers back on, and hurry over to the local sports bar to yell over the Super Bowl. It’s been discussed. Marked on the calendar. Steve’s been excited for the last several months, practically bubbling with passion at the mere thought that one of his favorite teams made it to the “big game” as he described it to Eddie.
Now, Eddie’s no sports guy. He really, really, really isn’t. But he’d grown up with Wayne watching football. Tuning the television to ABC, right at the top of six, Miller in hand, bowl of chips in the other. Eddie usually resigned himself to a night of sitting on the couch, clueless to the sports world around him, probably nose deep in campaign notes. But he’s not in Indiana. He’s not listening to Wayne’s gruff commentary as he prepares for a night in with football. He’s in Illinois with his boyfriend, Steve Harrington—sports extraordinaire, quite literally.
Steve does this wonderfully adorable thing where he pulls out his new copy of Sports Illustrated or tunes in on their little kitchen radio or flips to whatever game is on, he rattles on about statistics and new players and his predictions—what team he thinks will make it to playoffs, which players will retire that year, how many touchdowns a team will get. It’s his favorite thing to talk about. Well, it could be any sport. He knows quite a bit about literally any sport. 
“Who had the most strikeouts in 1984?” Eddie had asked one evening. 
Without any preamble, Steve had shot him with, “Dwight Gooden, New York Mets.”
So, yeah, Steve knows his shit. At least in Eddie’s humble opinion.
Which is why, even though Eddie will probably get super bored, he’s got the TV remote ready. Just waiting on Steve’s quick arrival.
And, not too long later, keys are jingling outside of their apartment’s front door, impatient steps marching in place on the porch. “Just come in, babe! It’s unlocked!” Eddie shouts, chuckling under his breath. 
In comes Steve, a whirlwind of energy. He sheds his coat by the front door, snowflakes falling from his shoulders and the top of his beanie. The coat doesn’t even make it over a chair, is just chucked down to the hardwood. Ripping the hat off his head reveals the most glorious and awful hedgehog style Eddie’s ever seen. But that doesn’t even seem to phase Steve. He just runs a hand through his hair, knocking his glasses askew (yes, glasses, Eddie’s wet dream), quickly wetting his lips with his tongue. He’s already talking a mile a minute.
“Happy hour got moved up an hour at the bar! There’s a whole block taken up by cars.” His voice gets farther and farther away the more he retreats to their bedroom. There’s some rustling around as he looks for his sweatpants. “Bunch of Redskins fans all meeting there, feels like! Gonna be the only one with a Broncos shirt. It’s insane, Eds! They’re all talking about how Doug Williams is gonna lead the Redskins to victory. Which, I’ll give it to them, he’s awesome! He’s one of the best quarterbacks I’ve seen in a long time. Honestly, he’ll probably make history with this game.”
Steve reenters the living space, still chatting up a storm, eyes wandering for his yet to be obtained sweats. Eddie’s got a hand over his mouth, chuckling lowly into his cupped palm. He’s such a dork, he can’t help but think.
He continues on, oblivious to Eddie's adoration snickering. “I’m really excited to see how this goes. Y’know how there was a players strike this season?” He’s asking rhetorically because he usually doesn’t get a response from Eddie, but he nods anyway, because he does know. It’s all Steve’s talked about. “Season was shortened, but…Considering how the Redskins are doing? This might be a crazy game. And also—Wait.” Steve stops short in front of Eddie in the entryway of their small kitchen. He sniffs the air.
“It’s bean dip, babe,” Eddie answers already knowing. “I—uh—I made it for you, for tonight.”
“But I’m not gonna be home? I’ll be up the street?”
Eddie shrugs. “Or…you could be here? With me?” He enters Steve’s space, wiggling the TV remote in his grip. “I put the dip in this morning after you left for work. Went out to the store and picked up a case of Millers. Your sweatpants are in the dryer, I’m warming them up. Just in case the cold creeps under the door, you know how it gets.”
And that makes Steve shut up really fast. His mouth hangs open in silent awe. Hands limp at his sides. Then, all at once, his eyes light up and a smile stretches over his face. “You wanna watch the Super Bowl with me?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah, baby. You’ve been talking about it for a while and…I don’t know, you’re so excited, I knew that I couldn’t take that from you. Make you leave the house and not bear witness to your whole—“ He waves a hand over Steve’s bouncing in place body. His flapping hands, the jump to his feet as he quite literally bounces on the tips of his toes. “—Look at you right now! You’re like a dog waiting for me to throw the ball. How could I not watch it with you?” He grabs Steve by his left elbow and drags them over to the couch.
Finally, he turns the television on, flips it over to ABC, and plops the remote in Steve’s lap. He’s still jittering out of his skin.
“You want to watch the game with me,” he states, once more in awe. “Because I get excited? But—You don’t like football? You’re gonna get bored.”
Once again, Eddie shrugs. “So what if I get bored? I don’t need to watch the game, I just need to watch you. I’ll know how to react based on how you do. So far, it sounds like the Redskins are gonna be a pain in the ass for you, right?”
“You remembered the name of the team?”
Eddie scoffs. “Of course I do! I listen to you when you talk about your sports stuff. You’ve been moaning and groaning about the Redskins’ new star quarterback for a while now. You think I don’t enjoy sitting next to you on the couch when you read off the stats in your magazines? Baby, it’s the highlight of my day.”
Steve’s eyes soften, they glisten, surprisingly. “Really? You don’t mind when I talk about my sports things? Even when…Even when it isn’t that interesting to you?”
“Loving you means loving what you love,” Eddie simply states. “Just like when you let me ramble about campaign notes and how infuriating it’s been to find a new Dungeons & Dragons group.” He wraps an arm over Steve’s shoulders, drawing him in close. His free hand cradles Steve’s right cheek, it’s wet under his palm. “Why you cryin’ sweet thing?” He murmurs.
It’s Steve’s turn to shrug. He sniffs back a gross wad of snot. “Nobody ever liked listening to me talk about it, I don’t know. Used to watch the games alone. Hated that.”
Leaning in, Eddie pecks Steve’s forehead. “Well, that changes starting tonight, alright? So, go grab your sweats from the dryer, slip into your Broncos shirt, settle in on the couch. I’ll get us some food, crack open our beers, and you can shout and slap my chest all you want about your game. How’s that sound?”
“Like you know me really well,” Steve answers.
“Good, baby,” he whispers. “Love knowing you. Love loving you.”
💕—————💕
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breakerwhiskey · 5 months
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101 - ONE HUNDRED ONE
Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.
Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.
[click, static]
Breaker, breaker, this is Whiskey calling out from…somewhere in Utah.
I don’t expect anyone to call back. I haven’t heard from you in days, Birdie, and you missed our date, so I’m assuming the worst. That you’ve decided you want nothing to do with me, or that—
Well, I don’t think anything happened to you. You’ve survived this long, so unless you had a heart attack and dropped dead—
[click static]
Shit, I really hope you didn’t have a heart attack and die. I’m gonna feel like a real asshole if you had a heart attack and died.
[click, static]
That’s what killed my dad, you know. A heart attack. Dad died of a heart attack, mom died of cancer, which I think makes my family the most statistically average it’s possible to be.
I think it’s fifty-fifty the way I’ll end up going. My life isn’t exactly stress-free and lord knows I’ve smoked enough in life to warrant lung cancer. At least I’ve had the goddamn pleasure of cigarettes. My mom, poor thing, just got fucking unlucky. She should’ve picked up smoking the moment she was diagnosed if you ask me. Enjoyed those last few months.
I used to think I’d die from sheer stupidity. By doing something dumb and reckless. A car accident, getting killed in the course of a robbery, doing the wrong drug.
Not that my drug phase was particularly long. Calling it a phase is probably even a stretch. I think I’ve done exactly two drugs. I prefer booze.
But even being drunk is…I’ve never liked having my objective perception of the world changed. My life has always had too many secrets and too few trusted confidantes, that letting myself get out of control, or slip into a different state of mind always felt too risky.
And now…well, I’m sharing every secret and stray thought I have with the entire world. And my perception of the world has been plenty challenged. Who needs drugs when you can just hallucinate ordinary men in hotel rooms?
[click, static]
I turn thirty-five next week. And it feels young. I mean, when I entered this whole new weird world back in ’68, I wasn’t even thirty yet. Thirty-five felt unfathomably far away. And now here it is, both like I blinked and woke up six years later and also like I’ve lived several decades in that time.
I could have a good thirty years left at minimum. I used to worry that I wouldn’t have enough time to soak up every little bit of the world that I wanted to, that I’d run out of time, die before I was full satiated.
Now I’m not sure what the best case scenario is. I have nothing but time to fill and what used to be an all-you-can-eat buffet is now an empty table. The only food on it is imaginary, the phantom tastes and smells of a world that no longer exists. That’s the thing about being so alone—you just stagnate. We need other people to provide variety, unpredictability. Otherwise we atrophy.
I’ve gotten unpredictability on the road, it’s true. Weird feelings, unexpected roadside attractions, tornado warnings. But I can’t rely on tourist traps and automated weather warning systems to provide all my life’s variety.
That’s what you were giving me, Birdie—one of the things, anyway. Unpredictability. The thrill of not knowing what you were going to say or when you were going to say it. You surprised me. Please keep surprising me.
[click, static]
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Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Five.
Another update to see us into the weekend, besties. We have a new character to introduce, and a few little revelations, too. Enjoy! :)
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Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four
Words - 5,414
Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!
Edie's POV
Ahhh, shit. You know when you’re so tired, you don’t notice that you didn’t shut the curtains all the way together the night before, and then you wake up to a beam of light hitting you right in the eyes? Welcome to my morning, everyone.  
The alarm goes off shortly after, prompting my agitated grumble. I don't like leaving my pit after only five hours of sleep, but I do have good reason to. I'm going to Vic's for breakfast, to help him enjoy his first day of a long-deserved vacation period from work. He isn't actually going away anywhere; he says the only thing that is calling him is the hammock in his back yard. I haven't seen him for two weeks because our shift patterns have clashed (he works with his brother at the twenty-four-hour grocery store they own) so I'm looking forward to catching up with him.
Eventually sliding out of bed and then falling over where I left my clothes when I got in, I snort laugh at my own ridiculousness, rub a newly carpet burned knee, getting back up again and taking my laundry to put in the wash. I treated myself to a new machine recently, after the one Aileen kindly gave me eight years ago finally gave up. Her husband Mike is one of these guys who enter all those competitions you never think you're going to win, and wins them. He won the new washer dryer just six months after winning a Kawasaki motorbike he and Aileen gave to their eldest son as a twenty fifth birthday gift. Some people have all the luck. Well, I guess I benefitted from their generosity, so I have little cause for complaint.
After putting my clothes in with a few towels and other jeans awaiting the wash, I then go and take care of washing myself. I'm a low maintenance girl, I don't wear makeup unless I'm out socially, and I let my hair dry naturally almost always since it has a nice natural wave to it. I'm still in love with lilac, even if the dead guy I’m punishing continually pokes at me over it. It would seem someone else isn't keen on it either, when he sees me roughly half an hour later.
"Dear god, what did you do to your hair?" Vic exclaims, after swinging open the screen door to me on the porch.
"I fancied a change, I dunno. I never went through that dye your hair crazy colours phase as a teenager.” Heading up the step, I pause to kiss his cheek, continuing into his lovely, rustic home.
"Then why the hell did you start now?" he teases with amusement, giving my damp tresses a little tug as I walk into the kitchen, the smell of bacon, sausages and pancakes becoming stronger with every step, until I'm sitting before the array of goodies at the table, pouring coffee from the pot for us both while Vic fetches the syrup from the microwave. Just as I'm putting the pot down again on its stand, my eyes are distracted by the images on the television. I didn't get chance to turn on the TV and check out the news before I left.
"What the actual fuck? Woah!" I exclaim as I see the images being streamed live from a gas station up in flames, Vic pausing to listen to the news caster before taking a seat opposite me.
"I guess the protesters finally decided to take action. How this kind of behaviour will help though, well I don't know.” Because of course our ties to the East (and their fuel) were well and truly severed over a hundred years ago, the USA has had to use their own stocks of gasoline since vehicles began to be imported again (all Japanese cars, one of the only manufactures left after the disaster) and whereas we all know we've got enough fuel, the USAC are whacking up the costs so much that people just cannot afford it.  
You'd be honestly surprised at the amount of people who use alternative transport, like bikes, or in more rural areas people even use horses instead of having to pay for gas. The prices of it are the reason alone why I don't drive, preferring to either walk or use the bus. Cabs are pricey too, again because of the gasoline.
Okay, I think I need to put the brakes on here and back up to explain a few terms you're about to hear me and Vic discussing. The USAC stands for the United States Authority Coalition, and that is this day and ages' version of a government. It was all formed many years ago by the men and women who became the leaders and figureheads of their towns (or rather settlements) after the disaster, needing to form some kind of unity and routine in law from state to state.  
As the title of the organisation suggests, it is run in coalition. Also, we no longer have a police force, but what is known as the Enforcement Officiating Unit, with Enforcement Officers (or E.O's as they're more commonly known as) instead of police officers. They're fully armed and very efficient at their jobs, and usually great people who are very un-corrupt. That differs a lot from how law enforcement used to be, so I'm told.
"They're ridiculous, to just set it on fire and waste the fuel like that! The USAC will just put up the prices even more now. Oh lord, is that footage of another one? Jesus!" I exclaim, after the coverage switches to a scene over the other side of town to where another gas station has gone up in flames. I just hope no one was seriously hurt, I really do.
"You're right, they will if people keep on setting the stations alight. I haven't checked the national news yet, so I don't know if the protestors are doing the same in other states.” He grabs the remote to change stations to CNN, where we find that gas stations in California, Washington, Virginia and Georgia have also been subjected to arson attacks.  
As we eat our breakfast, watching the news unfolding as Enforcement Officers arrive to the scenes en masse to control the unrest, we witness it all becoming a hell of a lot worse. The arson attacks lead to protestors fighting with the E.O's, rubber bullets being fired left and right, enforcement dogs barking at the end of their leashes, burning debris being hurled into the road and endangering people trying to pass the area safely, mounted E.O's falling off their startled horses and being dragged up the street. It is, without a doubt, fucking mayhem out there right now.  
"Good golly! Someone's going to be busy over the next few weeks!" Vic exclaims, nudging my leg with his soft slipper covered foot, shaking his head at the images on the screen.
"I was just thinking that! I will be, you're right, which means we're probably going to have to take in two per chamber. Great, that's all I need, a human sack of crap and the vampire to deal with," I mutter into my pancakes.
"Oh, you got a vampire in right now? Ooooh, I don't envy you! What's he like?" Vic questions curiously, spiking a sausage with his fork and using it to mop up some maple syrup.
"He's an asshole," I begin while chewing through a mouthful of bacon. He laughs immediately, probably more at the disgruntled look on my face more than anything. "Seriously, he can't just take the punishment. He yaks on and fucking on at me, trying to bring me down or figure me out, but that's not all. The first night I was in there with him, he tricked me and I ended up getting attacked." I then finish, watching Vic's eyes widen.
"He attacked you? Son of a bitch!" he exclaims angrily. "But you look alright, I can't see any scars on you or anything."  
"The vampire we have overseeing his punishment gave me a few drops of her blood to heal me. That's where it was, all along here. He nearly tore a chunk of me away with him, it took three silver throwing stars to the back flung by Ahmed to get him to let go," I further explain.
"Well, I hope you gave him hell for it," Vic states, sipping his coffee.
"I went back in there and chopped both of his arms off," I reply casually, making him burst into hysterics.
"That's my girl," he praises fondly, shaking his head as he laughs. "How fast did they grow back, by the way? I don't know much about these vamps; they creep me out too much to even want to learn anything about 'em!"  
"They're about half grown back now. It'll take time because we're not letting him rest properly or giving him what he requires in blood either, in an effort to keep him under control. I haven't noticed him getting much weaker in the week he's been with us for now, though. He's trying to play mind games with me, and he's winning. He can feel what I'm feeling, you see. When he attacked me, it wasn't to hurt me, it was to get his blood into me. Vampires can form blood ties with humans, which is something I've been reading up on since it happened.  
“What happens is, that when their blood goes in your system and vice versa, they're able to pick up on your emotions, just like I can pick up on some of his, flashes of his memories, too. According to what I've read, the more blood in the system, the stronger the bond. He only bled into the wound he inflicted on my shoulder a little though, so it isn't that bad," I explain for him.
"Well, he sounds like he's all rainbows and bunny rabbits," he begins sarcastically and somewhat darkly. "Won't he get further punishment for doing that to you, attacking you for such gain as this blood tie?"  
"Yeah, he did. Me chopping his arms off. No, seriously though, there's nothing anyone can do now he's done it. It'll last for a while, apparently, and then it'll begin to fade after time unless the blood is topped up, which it definitely won’t be. I just have to deal with him playing with my head for the next seven weeks, which I'm not looking forward to. I'm a week in, well eight days to be exact and already, I just can't wait to see the back of him," I grumble sourly. I really cannot fucking stand that vampire.
"Why'd you let him get to you though, letting him play with your head? If you just ignored him, no matter what he felt, you wouldn't be dignifying him with a response to anything nasty he has to say to you. I assume that's what he's doing, being spiteful?" Spiteful. Yep, that’s Angel, alright. He is spite personified.  
"See I tried doing that, but he's too smart for it to work. Also, some of the things he tells me are so interesting that I find myself drawn in, and it's hard to stop that. And yeah, he's spiteful. He rips it out of me over everything he can pick at. I’m an idiot, my tits are too small, my hair looks stupid,” I begin.
"I agree with him about the hair. Ouch, little tyke!" he interrupts me with, receiving a foot to his knee under the table for his comment over my hair.
"I could continue with the insults, but I'm not going to bother. It's him picking up on shit that I really don't like," I voice, while reaching for my coffee.
"I know I always taught you to never be a quitter, but if this is really bothering you then why not just switch with another punisher or something?" he suggests, giving me a concerned look.
"Because of what you always taught me, that quitting is for losers and I'm no loser. Also, doing that shows him that he's won, that I can't handle his taunting and I am not having that. No one does that shit to Edie Bailey and wins, no one. I just have to stop myself from finding the things he says interesting, because he's working me out so much more than I even realise, and he's dropping things that I think he's worked out will interest me. Like I say, all mind games. Vampires are famed for it, so I've heard," I reply strongly, determined that I will not let him get the better of me.
"Well, you stick to your guns, and keep me informed over how it's going. Man, is it a beautiful day out there. I think I'm going to get out and cut the lawn, and then move a few of those shrubs over to the shade as they're not doing well over in the sunnier part," he says, changing the subject to that of his beloved back yard. He really puts in the effort, and as a result it's incredibly beautiful.
"Do you want a hand?" I offer, getting up and taking his empty plate with mine over to the sink, running water into the plugged basin when I get there.
"You, you who hates gardening and leaves the grass until it's almost as tall as she is before she goes out to mow it?" he snorts, laughing with much amusement. It's at this point I have to proudly pull my phone from my pocket and show him the pictures of how my garden currently looks. "Oh wow, who'd you pay to do all that?" he adds when I show him the pictures of the cut grass and the newly dug flower beds around the perimeter of my yard.
"I'm proud to announce that this was all my own effort. I realised that after finishing my decorating project I was left with a lack of anything to do, and you know I like to keep busy, so I thought fuck it, no more excuses, I'm doing the yard work! And that's just what I did," I tell him proudly, returning my cell to my pocket with a smile.
"In that case then, there's an extra pair of gardening gloves in the shed, you go find them while I clear up in here. You don't have to do the dishes, go on, go." I’m shooed away from the sink, Vic grabbing the dishcloth and waving it at me. I do just that, heading through to the back door, scratching his lovely old dog Sadie on the head as I pass her, lying in her usual spot across the back porch.  
I have a really nice rest of the morning with Vic, helping him move the shrubs and also planting a few of the trays of flowers he has waiting and ready, even being given the ones he has no room for to plant in my own bare beds. On my way home, I take a bus to the local hardware store and plant nursery, buying myself some more bits and pieces that I have to take home in a cab, to the tune of thirty dollars for a ten-minute journey. Ouch, looks like the gasoline crisis is much worse than I'd envisaged. Envisaged, my word of the day and there we go, I just used it.
I then spend an hour in my own garden getting everything planted, remembering what Vic said to me about not watering them when the sun is at its hottest, as the water will heat up and scorch the plants, so make a mental note to go back out there this evening with the hose pipe and give them a good dousing when the ball of fire in the sky has set. After fixing myself a huge sandwich and a bowl of fruit for lunch, I then settle down on the couch and have myself a bit of a nap, setting my cell alarm to go off at 6pm, so I have plenty of time to do chores and get ready for work.  
Just as my eyes are blinking shut, I get one of those strange hallucinations I've been having, one of those flashes of memory being played through my head because of the blood of the vampire they belong to being in my body. The memory I see as ever is through his eyes, of a beautiful woman with a pretty tattoo across her throat smiling at him, kissing his shoulder, reaching to run her hand over the head of the sweet little baby he holds on his lap. It’s gone almost as quickly as it came.  
I wonder if they were his family, when he was human? Probably. Actually, I don't even care, if I'm honest. I'm more bothered about getting in a few more hours of sleep before I have to go back to work and be taunted by him all over again.
Angel's POV
"No way, no fucking way! I ain't going in there with him, that's a fucking vampire, fuck off! No, no, no, no! I don't even belong here, those fucking E.O cunts started on me!" Those are the screams that disturb me from my rest, my state of switched off, which is all I'm able to achieve. I haven't slept properly in a week because of these damn chains around my ankles and throat, and now I have to suffer a problem with overcrowding here at the Correctional Department, because of wide scale rioting over gasoline prices or something. I didn't pick up much of the talk from outside of this chamber I've been hanging in for just over a week, since I've been resting as best I can between punishments. I feel weak and tired almost permanently, and now I have to share my quiet space with this noisy fucking human.
"He's bound in silver so he can't even move, let alone get to you. You should have thought about all this last night when you were torching a gas station and beating down female E.O's, shouldn't you? Dumb bastard,” Ahmed, the gigantic Arab tells the man as he hauls him in and then shackles him to the ceiling and floor a few feet down from where I’m standing.
"Wow, brave man attacking a female. What, the male E.O's too scary for you, pussy boy? Humans like you nauseate me," I spit coldly, without actually looking at him.
"And that's about the only thing to come out of your mouth in the last week that I agree with." Ahmed states, while pointing a finger at me, before turning and leaving the chamber.
"A vampire lecturing me about morals towards women, hah!" the man (and I use that term loosely) next to me exclaims, while I turn my head all I can to eye him.
"Even I draw the line at striking a female. You want to show that you're top dog? Find the biggest guy you can and beat the crap out of him. Don't pick on a woman thinking just because they've got tits, you'll win. You're about to find that out in painful detail, though," I smirk, before shutting myself down again and not listening to anything else he has to say while I prepare for Edie's arrival. I could feel the sunset a few hours ago (we have a built-in sense for sunrise and sunset) so there's only another couple to wait before she gets here, and I'll be in worse pain than I am all of the time. Now, I suppose you're thinking I'm quite the hypocrite for what I just said to the human, but let me explain.
You're probably thinking how I could have those kinds of morals when just last week, I attacked Edie. I didn't attack her to hurt her, I attacked her to bleed into her, and that's it. I would have done it to any punisher I'd have had, male or female. So, as I was saying, I never hit women when I was alive and I'm not about to start now I'm dead. Sure, I adhere to far fewer morals than I did when I was human, because being dead has made me have little to no conscience, but not striking women is something that stuck with me.
It's a coward's pursuit, men beating women specifically because they're women. It fails to impress. I know I expressed a desire to strangle my punisher when I first came in, but hey, the bitch had just chopped my arms off. I was annoyed. Mentally unravelling her will suit me fine, though. I have to find some way to keep myself amused and make her time in here as unpleasant as possible. I'm not taking this lying down. Chained up maybe, but lying down? No. I won't verbally submit unless I'm forced to by liquid silver.  
I'm only being unpleasant to her because she's torturing me, she and the rest of the humans here have me in a position I don't want to be in. Otherwise, I'm pretty much indifferent to her. She doesn't much interest me.
Alright, fine. I’m lying my fangs off.  
When I tell her she's ugly and trashy, it's to dent her and nothing more. She's very attractive to me, she has beautiful blue eyes, muscular arms, a nice ass, and I know I'd enjoy fucking her. God damn, right now I’d piledrive her right through this steel floor, I’m so fucking horny. I don’t like going without sex, it makes me cranky. There's her anger, too. I really like it. It arouses me, and I like the fact that she fights back verbally against me, even though she can't win.  
She has tremendous spirit, but I still don't like her all that much. Mainly because she's beating me senseless five nights out of seven, obviously. Still though, I'd like to haul her off to bed and fuck her for about a week. What pisses me off is the knowledge that I can't. I could seduce her, absolutely no problem. I've done it to vampire women who've hated me in the past, and I know that even through her curiosity, Edie hates me for definite.
I just can't have sex with a human full stop. I have a slight problem with it, and have had that problem manifest itself a grand total of fifty-three times now. Quite simply, if you're a human and have sex with me, you won't survive it. I can't control myself at the point of orgasm, suffering a complete loss of control, and whoever I'm with gets drained dry. This is why I don't have sex with humans any longer, and if I slip up and do, it’s always with the false belief that 'this time, I will control myself’ before I bring them to my bed. But still, they never leave it alive, and I’m left with a corpse to bury before the dawn.
Despite what you might think, I’ve always felt a little bad for them. Vampires can still feel guilt, but more than that, I just feel pissed off for myself that I can't enjoy living flesh. One good thing about being in here is not having to listen to whichever human EZ brings home with him, screaming her lungs out while he performs the sexual equivalent of bludgeoning upon them. He does it just to piss me off half the time, the bastard. I still miss that bastard's presence, of course I do, he’s my brother.
I miss Ursula the most, though. I miss picking a period in time, a specific year or even month and asking what she was doing at that very point. I've learned an awful lot from just sitting and listening to her talk about times throughout the thousand years plus she's walked this earth. As a human, I wasn’t the most intelligent of people really. That shit had changed drastically in my death.  
So yeah, I suppose this is why I'm so hard on Edie, other than the fact she's putting me through massive amounts of pain. She doesn't interest me to talk to, and I want to fuck her and I can't. There you go. I can feel my mood getting lower as the hours pass now, a week with only half the blood I should have had making me feel like shit. Yet another reason behind my vile mood, I'm hungry and tired. I'm not overly friendly, but I'm not usually this angry. I'm merely bad tempered some of the time.  
As I've said before, I don't mind humans all that much, and in my line of work I have to be people friendly to a degree. Some assume just because vampires are dead that we need no money. In a way that is true, but you will find a large population of us who actually do have jobs. My present career differs greatly from the one I had while I was alive. I wouldn't want that again now even if I could have it. Being an outlaw without the MC, nah. Brotherhood was part of the reason I joined in the first place, that sense of belonging. I haven’t even ridden a motorcycle since before I was turned. No point, with how fast I move.
My current job is something where I can put my artistic side to use. I've always been talented with art and drawing, something that Ursula brought out in me more (she is a talented artist and then some, the portraits she draws look like they're photographs) until I became so good that I decided I needed to do something with it, so I did. I am one of the three owners and operators of the all vampire run tattoo shop, After Dark. Yeah, it’s a cheesy name, but it fits, since we obviously don’t open during daylight hours.
It's actually a thriving shop if you're willing to only have your appointment between the hours of sunset and sunrise, mainly because as vampires we're much quicker than humans in the application of tattoos. This is what makes us popular, as well as the fact that the designs by me, Eric and Salvatore (Sal to his friends) are the best in the whole of Las Vegas. Our skills cannot be beaten, hence why we've a waiting list that stretches into June next year. Even with me being away for two months and having to cancel all my appointments, it won't dent the business much. I'm good enough to wait for.  
Ahhh, I smell a woman coming my way, a very specific one, too. Edie is here. I can detect her scent as soon as she walks into the building, even from down here. I know where all the humans are when they're here at any given time, because I've picked up on their scents.
"Well, what do we have here then? According to your arrest sheet, you're a man who likes to pick on female E.O's, including stabbing one in her left breast with a broken bottle, and throwing another into a pile of burning debris. Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you," she chuckles, after walking in and approaching the human, his rap sheet in her hand.
"If you think I can be intimidated by some little bitch with pastel purple hair and no tits, then you've got another thing coming," the human replies with a snort, spitting on the floor.
"Funny, that. He said more or less the same to me when he came in, when he had both arms still,” she replies, gesturing to me with a pointed finger. Aha, that was pretty clever, I'll give her that.
He’s defiant in the face of her assertion. "Well, I'm not him.”  
"No, you're not. You're several rungs below him in the food chain, in fact. If I have no problems putting him in his place, you don't pose any issues for me. Now, shut your mouth. Actually, you've no need to. I'll shut it for you.” Recoiling her fist, she swings hard, punching him straight in the jaw, her right first following the left before the left follows again and so on, until the chamber is filled with the sound of her raining blows upon his face.  
"I'd have loved to have gotten my hands on you out there in the riots, I'd have torn you to bits in five seconds flat, bitch," he taunts her with as soon as she stops punching him.
"You really think so, huh? Okay, I'll let you keep on thinking that." She changes up her attack tactics to kicking, spinning off one foot to throw the other straight into the side of his ribcage. His beatdown continues while he carries on taunting her, using anything he can to try and piss her off, with none of it working. He's truly pathetic, but it’s as I hear his words and taunts that I suddenly I’m given something to think about. I have lowered myself in the insults I have personally thrown at Edie. Hearing them all handed back to her through the mouth and words of a human, and such a lesser human to myself, it's made me see that in handing her the same insults, I am lowering myself to his level. Pond scum level. Fuck. Ursula would be ashamed, and that is what smacks me the hardest.
I know what she'd say, I can hear her voice in my head. 'Angel, we do not lower ourselves in our retort to petty insults. Unless you can say something of significant cleverness with that mouth, it is best you keep it shut. Be dignified in your spite, my child.' That's exactly what she'd say to me, I know it. Messing with her head over her intellect, or lack of it, and getting her to say far more than she wants to me at times are all I should resort to. I know Ursula would tell me to just take my punishment without even acknowledging the human at all, that as a vampire I must find that aloofness to them and the situation. I struggle with it, though, that part of my nature is yet to mature, even though I turned a hundred this year.
I think I've got a little better, so much in the fact I can at least tolerate a human without wanting to kill them if they annoy or piss me off (for the most part) even if I can't control that impulse when having sex with them. This is why I don't do that any longer. Fuck, I'd do anything to fuck someone right now. Not that I'd be much good. I'm surprised I have a libido at all, I feel so weak, and lack of blood means I couldn't even get hard. We physically can’t, unless we’re fed.  
The constant touching of silver to my skin is enough to drain me of my strength, Ursula's blood that I drank from her wrist before I was brought here now all worn off. Vampires seldom drink of each other, but when we do this is the only way, a creator giving their offspring blood if they need it. Any other dead blood will kill us. That was what made me that extra touch malevolent and powerful when I first arrived. It is also why I'm stronger than most vampires my age (EZ for example) because I was made with such ancient blood.
Still though, that strength fades from me with each day that passes. I have to endure sharing space in this chamber with many more humans, who all get on my last nerve, and of course, I also have to endure more pain from Edie, loathing her for every single ounce she inflicts upon me with such gusto.  
I was wrong when I said she wasn't built for this job, for she's very enduring with her punishment. She doesn't tire, and with each time she inflicts pain upon me or a human that comes here and passes on again, her tenacity grows. She shows me two things in the first three weeks I'm here. The first is that she's much stronger than I even realised, and the second is as that while her strength remains constant, mine continues to weaken.
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returntosaturn271995 · 6 months
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Favorite Quotes from "Really, Good, Actually" by Monica Heisey
“The idea of Jon writing breakup songs in some dark sublet filled me with equal parts deep despair and incredible relief – despair, to think that I had caused him such pain he’d been driven to experimental songwriting; relief that I wouldn’t have to listen to it.”
“We swore neither of us had Seen It Coming”
“Certainly, you are not supposed to be twenty-eight years old and actively planning a birthday party with the dress code ‘Jimmy Buffett sluts’.”
“Of course, it did not feel better to burn a tobacco and juniper candle and listen to the Backstreet Boys than it had felt to be loved”
“The truth is, if you start your eating disorder even slightly overweight, no one will notice until things are very much at the ‘what if two meals a day were soup’ stage.”
“Out of ten, how ready are you to joke about this?’ he asked. I mulled. ‘Six?’ ‘Right,’ he said. ‘So we’ll get into the eyebrows another time.”
“Clive and I split a bag of jagged low-calorie chips and toasted the beginning of my ‘ho phase’, though my lip started to quiver as our glasses clinked, forcing him to walk it back and remind me that every ho must take things at a pace that works for her. ”
"handwritten on heavy paper, highlighting relevant lyrics … oh, Brian”
“ the depth of their worry revealing itself only in my father’s daily text: alive? y/n.”
“ I needed a few weeks to be disgusting on my own and adjust to my new life as an unlovable husk. Amirah curled her long legs underneath herself, and I could tell she was going to say something annoying.”
“the way life together felt like an adventure. Their favourite adventure was going to restaurants.”
“and a rotating series of doomed hamsters,”
“a feeling of dull invincibility I referred to as ‘haha, so what”
“nodding like a group of NPR hosts. Lauren dipped an endive in yogurt, wiped the side of her mouth, and said politely, curiously, ‘Isn’t that, like, exactly how people describe depression?”
“I spent distracted time with the self-help authors, agreeing furiously with whatever was in front of me and forgetting it moments later.”
“ I think most intelligent people are a little bit mean, and all nice people are a little bit stupid. I wish I didn’t think that. I’m working on not thinking that. I have bad posture and good blood pressure. I’m heartbroken.”
“As I waited for the streetcar, I wondered whether he was right – if I’d had a bad marriage – or if Jiro was just kind of a dick.”
“Lauren nodded knowingly. ‘Can’t help you,’ she said. ‘The apps have destroyed my idea of what’s normal. I had to break it off with that guy I was seeing – remember he said he was agoraphobic, so we always had to meet at his house? Turns out he’s totally fine, he just doesn’t like coming to the west end.’ ‘Holy shit,’ I said. ‘Stealing that,’ said Clive.
“Sometimes it felt like a gesture of support, and sometimes it felt like loading all the corpses on the same cart so the rest of the village didn’t get the plague.”
“Amy said she’d never felt better, on days when she didn’t feel the worst she ever had.”
mortifying sadness selfies
“Amy drained her martini and puffed her cigarette, looking more divorced than anyone in history: ‘Good luck.’
The night carried on. I felt myself cross the threshold between fun drunk and ‘about to quote a song lyric from my past’, but there was nothing to be done except drink through it.”
“Her studio had a mirror that said STRONG AS A WOMAN on it, and she loved the way it made her butt look in selfies.”
“Amy, one false eyelash starting to peel away from the corner of her eye, looked at me like I was the dumbest idiot alive”
“looking for a partner in crime (i plan to commit many crimes)”
“Amy had recently gotten a tattoo of the word BREATHE, and Amirah had joked that it might as well read DIVORCED. Did I want everyone around me to know, on sight, that I was Going Through Something?”
“Merris came in, wearing one of her jazzier sweater shawls. She was holding a small baggie of eggs. ‘You have unsettled Olivia,’ she said, putting them down in front of me. ‘Apparently B12 will help.”
“This turned out to be surprisingly easy; all it required was 100% of my energy, 100% of the time.”
“everyone involved in adult learning was running from something.”
“Clive ducked out after the fitness class I had brought him to turned out to include a jazz dance component. Lauren broke at paint night as we stood side by side, drinking wine with twelve other women all outlining the same image of a city skyline at sunset. She added a few swipes of pink to the corner of a fading sky and said, ‘This is self-harm. This is worse than when my boss made us go axe throwing.”
“His flannel shirt and ripped jeans seemed fused to his body, like someone had vacuum-packed Kurt Cobain to store over winter.”
“Dating has a way of making incompatibility feel like personal failure; there was nothing technically wrong with Nathan, except that I did not like him or want to spend any more time with him, which, in the context of us having paid $45 for an hour of axe throwing and one draught beer each, was a problem.”
“After all, neither Jon nor I had broken the one mandatory condition of contemporary romantic coupling; we had done the noble thing and slowly fallen out of love over time.”
“Don’t worry about it,’ he said, seeming to mean it. ‘Divorce is, well … that’s a spicy meatball.’ I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I suggested we get a drink”
“Used one of those calculators to determine how soon you can retire if you make X amount and save Y amount each month; found I could reasonably begin retirement in 238 years”
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vertanvertan · 1 year
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weirwoodking · 3 years
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hmm thinking about the way that the mid-2010 internet’s “let’s all make fun of the cringe sjw snowflake teen girls with blue hair who call themselves boys” era genuinely made me extremely ashamed to think of myself as anything but cis afab since I was like 14
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dadsbongos · 3 years
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trashy dad
Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Shota Aizawa/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: references (2) to un*s ann*s, one (1) use of (y/n), fem pronouns Summary: Shota trying to support his YouTuber daughter :) cuz social media aus own me Word Count: 2.1K ~~~
"Hey, gamers," you grin at the camera before tossing an arm over your father's shoulders, "My dad's in town and as you can see," you hesitated slightly before turning to face your father, "Dad's not super into taking care of himself. So, I figured what's better than doing a Q&A together while I do his makeup?"
"Hitoshi just did a 'what I eat in a day', didn't he?" Shota quirked a brow, already reaching back to tie up his messy, tangled hair.
"Spoilers!" you quietly whine as you open your phone, "He still has to edit it, silly man. We're gonna have to brush out your hair later, by the way."
Shota's eyes widened, "We? I thought this was your idea and video, (Y/n)."
"No," you huff, scrolling through a few of the questions from fans, "I mean it was but your hair is so… Okay, first question is from - oh my God the names - shrekslongtoe, what was my first word?"
"Are you gonna start putting makeup on me or just sit there?" Shota scratched at his nose before snickering, "That wasn't your first word. Your first word was 'Dada' and it drove Hizashi insane."
"Hizashi is my other dad, by the way," you lean over to grab your makeup bag, "'Toshi and I call him papa. Oooh, oh no," you looked up to Shota, "I don't have your shade, you're gonna look weird."
"I don't really care," the man shrugged, watching as you took out a pink beauty blender, "That looks like a buttplug."
"Don't say that!" your eyes were wide at his words while you got out your foundation, "Youtube doesn't like that."
"Whoops," he deadpanned, "Next question."
"Shit, right."
"Language."
"Japanese," you murmur, going to the next reply, "yoonbumskneecap asks, 'Did you believe in me-’ they said my name but you know, ‘and Hitoshi when they decided to become Youtubers?' And 'in 'Toshi's case - drop out of college to become a professional clout man.'"
"To be honest," Shota closed his eyes, only in slight fear, as you began pressing the foundation into his skin, "I was really worried about Hitoshi, I didn't know if he'd stay as big as he was because he's a lot like me, in the sense that people tend to not like us for our bluntness. So I was worried he'd be a meme for like a month and then people would drop him, but thankfully I was proved wrong," he opened his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin rooting through your bag once again, "With you, I was less worried because you're more like 'Zashi, i.e extremely likable, and you were kind of getting a boost from appearances on Hitoshi's channel. I still worry because the internet is a fickle mistress but I'm not staying up at night about it."
Pulling out a dark eyebrow pencil, you grin at your father, "Aww, that was kinda sweet. Not really but kind of."
"What I'm here for," Shota's eyes followed your hand as you uncapped the pencil and reached up, beginning to mark at his eyebrows, "I'm gonna read the next question while you kill my eyebrows."
"I'm not killing them!" you giggled, "But unlike Papa, you already have pretty thick, full eyebrows so I won't be here long."
"Good," he muttered before furrowing his brows in confusion, ignoring your frustrated groan, "who is daddysero and why is he asking if you pissed today?"
"What?!" you pull your dad's hand back to see what he was looking at, instantly calming down when you saw he was still on Twitter, "Oh, that's just Sero, he asks me that every time I tweet. I thought you went to my Instagram DMs," at Shota's questioning stare you grinned, "Mama's got simps in her DMs."
"Don't ever call yourself 'Mama' in my presence ever again," Shota shook his head, once again ignoring your annoyance, "papichulo46290 wants to know my favorite memory of you."
"If you mix me up with 'Toshi, I'll be so pissed," you return the eyebrow pencil to your bag as Shota speaks.
"I won't... probably," he shrugs while you root through your bag, "So, Hizashi had taken Hitoshi out for ice cream because of - has he mentioned his middle school trauma?" at your nod, he continues, "Hitoshi was having a bad day from middle school, shocking, so you and I were left home alone together. You were probably seven and you really wanted to paint my nails and I let you. You..." he shook his head, snickering, "you fucked them up. So bad. But you were so happy to just be spending time with me- "
"Keep talking, but I'm gonna do your eyeshadow," you lean back in, swishing your brush over a navy blue, almost black shade, "Just so you guys know, Dad wanted to look like shit, don't unsubscribe cuz this is gonna come out bad."
"It won't be too bad, you're talented," Shota did his best to remain still, "But overall, you were just so adorable and it didn't even matter that the smudged nails got me teased in the teacher's lounge the next day. It all came off after like a week because it was shitty polish but you get the idea."
"Aww, I didn't know you kept it on, that's so sweet," you fall back briefly to inspect your work, "It's not awful but I'm only posting this because you're my dad."
"Of course, I did," Shota continued scrolling through the questions, "A lot of people are asking if you mean Dad or Daddy, and a lot more people are asking for pictures of your feet, you should block them all."
"Yeah, I got sickos in my replies too, just gotta scroll past em'."
"Disgusting..." Shota grumbled as you moved to his other eye, "Is 'electrodick' Kaminari, perchance?"
"Unfortunately."
"Gross, he asks if you had an 'I'm not like other girls' phase," Shota hummed quietly in thought, "Maybe when you were eight for like a month, but that's probably because except for Nemuri you didn't have any women in your life. Thankfully you moved on from that pretty quickly."
"Oh yeah, that was a gross, weird time. You and Papa also weren’t shitty people so I didn’t have a lot of misogynist influence."
"I like to think we did a good job," Shota sighed, finally moving back into his slouching position when you pulled away completely, "Is 'explosionmurder' Bakugou?"
"You know it."
"Okay well, he's asking if you plan on fucking up your bronzing again?" he thinks for a moment, “Was that from when you looked kinda copper-ish in a video?
"Oh my God, that was one time, Bakugou!" you shout and shake your brush at the camera, "One time!"
"I don't even know what blending is so you're doing better than I am."
"God, how are we related?"
Without hesitation, Shota replied, "Surrogate. Which answers summerlongsock's question."
"Nice," you chuckle, setting the brush back in your bag, "You probably won't need too much bronze or countour since you're going for bad," you immediately turn to the camera, "And Bakugou isn't gonna say a fucking word about it!"
"Is eyeliner next? And if so, I would enjoy a nice wing," Shota muttered, looking through the remaining questions, "Hitoshi asks why I haven't done a video with him yet."
You nod along while uncapping the liner, "I'm curious about that too. I thought my first video with a parent would be with Papa. I was gonna say family but..." you shrug, "Hitoshi was my first video and then Eri came on."
"He never asked," Shota closed both of his eyes, allowing you to move his head around as you pleased, "You just texted me the video idea and we set it up while I was in town. If Hitoshi wants a video so bad he should come up with an idea."
"Jeez, don't bully the poor boy," you laughed quietly, carefully applying more eyeliner to your father's left lid, "We should all do a video together. I think it'd be fun."
"Come up with an idea," he replied flatly before opening his eyes, "davinky wants to know when you got into makeup. Probably after thirteen, sometime."
"Yeah, I got my first real eyeshadow at like fourteen and then you guys just enabled my love of makeup after that."
"Well, the thing with that was, Hizashi and I didn't want you growing up thinking you had to wear makeup for any reason," Shota opened his eyes once he felt you back away, blinking a few times, "So we waited till you were more mature because giving makeup to a six-year-old is weird."
Capping your eyeliner, you traded it out for mascara, "Yeah, even little play kits are a bit ehhh. Don't close your eyes, but look down."
Following instruction, Shota took the opportunity to read off another question, "I can't see the name but someone's asking what we did together for fun. While you were a kid."
Humming quietly in thought, you move from one eye to the other, "We used to go to diners a lot. Those late-night diner trips, remember?"
"Oh yeah, you were such a little demon about bedtime. I had to take you to this little place for scrambled eggs or some shit and you'd fall asleep on the way back home."
Putting away your mascara, you reach out for your hairbrush before beginning to pull out the hair tie in Shota's hair, "Mina wanted me to ask what videos you show people when they ask what your kids do for a living."
"For Hitoshi, the one where he and Kaminari made Bakugou breakfast with sex toys. For you, the one where you turn yourself into Mina's little character - with the pink skin," Shota winced slightly at the tug of your hairbrush, "And Eri's a teacher so that information comes first since it's the least strange."
As you fussed with his tangled nest of hair, you read another question over Shota's shoulder, "When did you know you loved me? Like after adopting me."
"Not too long after the adoption was finalized actually," Shota grumbled as the brush made its final courses through his hair, "You've always been a really great kid. I don't know when I 'realized' but it was definitely around the time you were born, maybe like the day after."
"That's pretty good considering I was a stranger," you giggled, brushing out the final knots in his dark hair, "A baby stranger."
"Hmm," Shota hummed in response, "You almost done?"
Refraining from rolling your eyes, you fluffed Shota's now smooth and detangled hair around his shoulders with a small smile, "I'm done. Your hair is so pretty when it's brushed out."
"I know," the man muttered, handing your phone back, "Wanna do one more question and then sign off?"
"Yeah," you scroll through some of the questions, "I want it to be the best question that's ever been asked."
"Ask your own, you're great at that."
You shook your head with furrowed brows at his comment, "Is that a compliment?"
"It was meant to be."
"Thanks, but no need, I've found one. Midoriya wants to know if raising two attention whores was hard. He didn't say ‘attention whores’ because he doesn't swear but that's the vibe."
"What's Midoriya's at?" Shota asked.
"SmallMight."
"Of course," the man grumbled, closing his eyes to think, "You two were honestly pretty easy to raise. Not a whole lot of fits compared to what I've heard other parents talk about. You both liked to talk a lot to each other, and, of course, to Hizashi and me. Not terribly difficult at all."
"Aww, I'm glad we didn't make you pull your hair out," you grin.
"Oh, you still did. Absolutely."
"Nice," you giggle before turning off your phone and facing the camera, "Okay guys, well, I hope you don't clown on me as much as usual because if you do, my dad will... I don't know… kick your ass."
"Exactly," Shota nodded, a horrific smile on his face, "I'll beam right into your living room."
"Hopefully you guys come back next week where I'll..." floundering for an answer, you turn to your dad as if he’d give you ideas, "Create wings to do it better than Icarus ever could."
Giving a singular stiff nod, Shota looked dead at the camera, "I'd watch it."
"You heard it from the main man himself, peeps," you waved to the camera, Shota copying the motion, “Bye!”
"If there's one comment about my eyebags, I'm never coming on your channel again," Shota lied as you leaned over to stop recording.
"They're gonna love you, I'm sure," you assure your father, "Wanna see how I edit?"
"God no, Hitoshi showed me how long it takes to edit his videos, it looks like hell."
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Sixty Six Percent [Spencer x fem! Reader]
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A/N - This is for my “girls night out” square on my CM bingo card for @cmbingo​, which you can find the masterlist for here. Also loosely based off this prompt I’ve been wanting to write for a while - Our best friends are that awful “cute” couple that make out in public and call each other “sweetie” and “sugar” and god they’re awful, let’s talk about how awful they are – develops into “oh we’re that awful couple now”. Includes some Galvez and is set circa season 14 ish. Bottom right image taken from Kirsten’s Instagram. 
CW - not much really - just drinking and fluff.
In which girls night takes an unexpected turn when it coincides with boys night.
WC: 2.2K
Find my full Masterlist here.
Western’s bar in DC on a Friday night had been a must for girls night out. It was known for its cheap drinks, loud music and packed dance floor. Everything you and the girls were looking for. 
When your closest friends worked for the FBI, arranging girls night was always a near impossible feat. You’d lost count of how many times Penelope, Emily, JJ and Tara had to bail on your plans because another case had come up. 
You understood, you’d been best friends with Penelope for years now and you appreciated their schedules were hectic but you were always left downtrodden when they’d had to cancel again. 
But finally after weeks of cancellations and rescheduling, tonight they had been free for girls night. 
Shots were flowing and you all showed off your moves on the dance floor. You and Tara being the only single ones of the group danced with a few men but it was all harmless flirting, nothing serious. 
You weren’t looking to take someone home tonight. 
It was nearing midnight and you had all taken a break from dancing to rehydrate with vodka. You noticed Penelope’s eyes shift away from the girls across the room and her perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitted together.
“What is it, Pen?” You asked her, having to speak loudly to be heard over the music. 
“We can’t just have one night.” She rolled her eyes but then her face broke out into a large smile. “Excuse me.” And with that she sauntered off.
Your gaze followed where she had gone to see her throwing herself into the arms of her boyfriend, Luke Alvez. 
You chuckled to yourself, nudging Emily in the arm.
“They just can’t stay away from each other can they?” You laughed.
“It’s disgusting really.” Emily also laughed. 
“Looks like they're having a boys night. We should probably go and say hi.” JJ shrugged.
“I suppose it would be rude not to.” Tara agreed.
The four of you followed in Penelope’s footsteps across the room. You’d met most of the team over the years thanks to Penelope and you said your hellos to Luke, Rossi and Matt. 
The last man you came to had incredible hazel eyes, which even in the dim lighting of the bar you could see were flecked with gold. He had a light stubble on his cheeks and untamed curls you had a sudden desire to run your fingers through. 
Spencer Reid, you assumed. You’d heard of him countless times but for whatever reason the two of you had never met. You got the impression he avoided social situations in lieu of more academic pursuits. 
You’d heard stories of his time in prison and looking at him now it struck you that there was a hint of sadness in those hazel eyes and you assumed that must be why. 
“You must be Spencer.” You smiled a little shyly at him. You had no idea he’d be so attractive. “I’m Y/N.”
He smiled at you but you noticed it was stifled. Like he knew the fact you knew his name meant you knew what had happened to him.
“Yes, I’m Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you Y/N, I can’t believe we’ve never met before.” Despite the sadness about him, his eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you and it made you feel hot under the collar. 
“Me either.” You couldn’t help but beam, had Penelope been hiding him from you? He was just your type. 
You turned to look at your friends briefly but were surprised to find them gone. Tara, Emily, JJ and Matt were now dancing in the middle of the floor while Rossi propped up the bar, sipping his single malt. 
A few feet from where you were standing with Spencer, Luke and Penelope were swapping saliva in an extremely NC-17 fashion. 
He had his hands on her voluptuous backside and her fingers were clawing at his shirt. 
“Are they always like this?” You turned back to Spencer with a grimace.
He shrugged.
“Not always but often enough not to be phased by it anymore.” He chucked a little. 
“Young love.” You laughed too. 
“They’re actually pretty cute when they aren’t pushing the boundaries of public displays of affection.” 
“Pen always refers to him as bunny, it makes me sick.” You laughed harder.
“Oh gosh.” Spencer pulled a face. “They flirt over the phone on cases all the time. It takes forever to get an answer out of Garcia because they have to flirt in every single call.”
“I bet he hasn’t described to you their sex life in graphic detail. Because Penelope has.” You shudder a little. “I know more about Luke’s anatomy than I ever needed to know.”
“That’s...that’s unfortunate.” Spencer laughed. 
“Yeah that’s one way to put it.” 
“Can I buy you a drink?” His smile was much less sad now, and more genuine as he looked at you. The way he was smiling at you made you feel weak. 
“That would be really nice.” You nodded. 
You followed Spencer to the bar where he ordered you both a drink and paid. He then led you over to a small booth away from the chaos where you sat next to him to allow you to be able to converse over the music. At least that’s what you told yourself.
It had nothing to do with the fact you wanted to be close to him. Absolutely nothing. 
“One time we were on a case in Boston and I called Garcia and for whatever reason she thought I was Luke and she started graphically describing what she was going to do to me, Luke when I got home. It was...disturbing to say the least.” 
“Oh wow. That sounds...horrible.” You laughed. 
“I’ve not been able to properly look her in the eye since.” Spencer pulled a face.
“They are the definition of sickening. But they’re happy. I guess that’s all that matters.” You shrugged, sipping your drink. “They’re lucky, one night stands have never worked out that well for me.” 
“No?” Spencer looked inquisitive. “I’ve never had one.”
“Really?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought everyone had had at least one.”
“Statistically only sixty six percent of American’s have had a one night stand before.” 
“I forgot Penelope told me you were a genius.” You laughed again. “That’s a surprisingly low number.” 
“It’s still over two hundred and sixteen million people.” he didn’t even look as though he had to think to know something like that. You were impressed and felt slightly inadequate in comparison to him.
“Oh, in that case I suppose it is a lot.” you didn’t really know what you could say to that. “Can I ask why you’ve never had a one night stand?”
Spencer contemplated his answer this time. Facts and statistics rolled off his tongue but when he had to speak of personal things it often took him a moment to find the right thing to say.
“I suppose I’m a romantic at heart. One night stands seem kind of...disheartening to me. I’m not saying never but I’ve never felt the need thus far in my life.”
“See I don’t agree.” you turned in your seat so you could look at him properly. This close you could really see his incredible bone structure, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. You wanted to run your fingertips over the delicate curves of his face, kiss the stubble on his soft skin and make your way to those plump lips of his. “Being single is hard, especially when your best friend is Penelope who is and is all loved up with Alvez. One night stands provide a little solace from the loneliness I guess.” you shrugged, trying not to sound like you were throwing a pity party for yourself. 
“But isn’t it just lonely all over again when it's over?” Spencer leaned closer to you and your eyes were fixated on his lips. 
“I don’t know.” mirroring him, you leaned closer. “We could always find out.” you smirked at him. You had just met him and you knew being so brazenly flirtatious could be dangerous territory. But you’d gone all these years without ever crossing paths so you supposed if this went south and Spencer rebuffed you then avoiding him wouldn’t be that difficult. 
His facial expression didn’t change so you had no idea what he was thinking or how he had taken your advances. He leaned even closer and your eyes were still locked on his lips.
“Are you asking me to come home with you Y/N?” his eyes were dark, lust perhaps? 
“I’m asking you to join the sixty six percent Spencer.” 
For a few long seconds neither of you moved or spoke. Spencer eyes fell over you, lingering longer on your lips. You shifted a little in your seat feeling hot under his intense gaze. He leaned even closer and you thought he was about to kiss you, but just as he inched towards you, a voice snapped you back to reality.
“Y/N there you are!” it was Emily. “And Spence, hey.” 
“Hi Emily, what’s up?” you would never forgive her if she had gotten in the way of Spencer kissing you.
“Come and dance, it's girls night!” she tugged your arm, pulling you so you were on your feet. 
Spencer shuffled out of the booth behind you. As Emily started dragging you towards the dancefloor, he came close to your ear and whispered “I’ll come and find you later.” and then he headed over towards Rossi who was still propping up the bar.
You danced with the girls for hours, even Penelope when she came up for air and pried herself away from Luke for more than a few seconds. The drinks kept flowing, laughter was aplenty; it was a great night all round. It had been worth waiting for.
Around three am you and the girls decided to call it night. You were a little tipsy and your feet hurt from all the dancing. You had lost track of Spencer earlier in the night, you were a little disappointed but it was probably for the best. A one night stand with your best friend's colleague would no doubt only end in disaster. 
You said your goodbyes outside, hugs and cheek kisses were dished out and they all promised you would have another girls night as soon as their schedules allowed. You lived on the other side of town than the girls so you waved off their cab from the curb and awaited the next one. It wasn’t long before another cab pulled up and to your confusion the rear window rolled down as it came to a stop.
“Told you I’d find you later.” Spencer smiled at you from the backseat. 
You tried to hide your blush as you slid in next to him. 
“I thought you left.” you buckled yourself in and almost immediately Spencer took hold of your hand.
“Not without you.” he leaned closer and then his lips pressed against yours in the backseat of the cab and you felt your whole body turn to jelly at the sensation. He used his free hand to cup your face as he deepened the kiss.
You felt a jolt of electricity coarse through you, something you had never felt before. Your lips moved in such a synchronized fashion it was crazy to think you had never done this before. You felt as though you’d waited your entire life for this moment. 
The kiss lasted a few minutes and when it ended you both panted slightly, trying to grasp at the air that had escaped your lungs. He kept his hand on your cheek, stroking small circles on your skin with his thumb. 
“Are you ready to join the sixty six percent club Spencer?” you smirked at him in the dark. 
He kissed you again, softly this time, more cautiously. 
“I’m quite comfortable in the minority. And I already know I am not going to be able to settle for one night with you.”
Your heart melted at his words, and the loving look he was giving you. You squeezed his hand, kissing him once more.
“If you take me for breakfast in the morning, you can have as many nights as you like.” you winked at him which made him blush a little.
“I’m sure we can arrange that, my love.”
“Thirty four percent it is then.” you laughed, settling your head on Spencer’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. 
You would have to berate Penelope for not introducing you to Spencer sooner. But you might also need to cut her and Luke some slack, because you had a feeling you and Spencer were going to become an awful, cutesy couple just like them. But when it was happening to you, you didn’t mind so much. Maybe you’d even let Spencer call you bunny…
...On second thoughts, maybe not. Somethings would never change. You’d leave the cringey nicknames to Penelope and Luke. At least for now anyway. Tomorrow was another day. 
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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...
PART TEN
:Masterlist:
A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3
(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3
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December 1994
Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.
Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.
His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.
Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.
Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.
How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.
He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.
He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.
Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.
You were his best friend.
The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.
You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.
-
2020
All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.
The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.
“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.
“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.
“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.
Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.
“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.
“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”
“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.
“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.
Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”
Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”
You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.
“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.
“Teddy-”
"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"
"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."
As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.
You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."
“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”
"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.
Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.
You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"
"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."
You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."
-
When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.
When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.
"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."
Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"
"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."
"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.
You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.
Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.
You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.
“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.
“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.
“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”
“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”
You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.
“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.
Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.
“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”
The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”
“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”
“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”
“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”
“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.
“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.
The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"
You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."
As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.
Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.
From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.
Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.
"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."
As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.
You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.
Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.
"And then there were two." Luke joked.
You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.
"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."
"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.
You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.
-
The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.
You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.
By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.
“You okay?”
She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”
You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.
“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”
You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.
But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.
"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."
You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’
The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.
The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.
As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"
She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.
There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.
After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.
Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.
Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.
She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.
Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.
The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.
You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.
You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.
Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.
Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.
You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.
Even if it was just for one last song.
Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.
The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.
You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.
“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.
You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.
“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.
“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.
“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.
You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.
“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”
“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”
“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.
Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”
You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”
Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."
"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."
"You do?" He asked.
You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”
"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"
Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.
Wait, what?
Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.
“Guys, come here.”
Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.
“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”
You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”
Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”
It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”
You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.
Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”
The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”
“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.
You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.
“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”
“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.
Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.
“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.
“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”
You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”
You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.
"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"
You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.
Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.
Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.
"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."
“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”
“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.
“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.
Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”
You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"
"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."
"What's that?"
"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."
-
The End
-
In Life, In Death Taglist:
@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever​ @spidermankenobi
(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)
JATP Taglist:
@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​
Let me know if you want to be added!
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koiblossom5 · 3 years
Text
tr characters at a sleepover
takemichi: probably the most normal one, which is not a good sign. he’s the type to chomp down aggressively on popcorn during scary movies bc that’s how scared he is. he’s also the first one to pass out, making him the ideal target for pranks (courtesy of mikey, smiley, and kazutora)
mikey: oh god oh fuck. this very violent gremlin will hog all of the snacks, and by all, I mean ALL of them (he’s willing to lend takemichi the popcorn though). nobody can get any sleep bc this little shit snores louder than a vacuum cleaner, much to everyone’s annoyance. oh and the nasty ass creature that’s stealing all of the food in your fridge at night? that’s not your sleep paralysis demon. that’s just mikey with his stupid 3 am snacking.
draken: takes on the role as mikey’s impulse control, but only because no one else will do it. everyone cuddles up toward him during the scary movie because he’s strong and has a very reassuring presence. by the end of the movie, he can’t feel either of his arms or legs. he’ll be willing to buy extra snacks from the local dollar store just so he can get away from mikey.
baji: honestly? just as annoying as mikey. he’s ready to get wild, and constantly squabbles over the snacks with mikey (but he’s willing to share with chifuyu). he lets emma play with his hair while he gets his nails done by chifuyu. before sleeping, everyone has to roll baji up into a blanket burrito because this mf will NOT stop kicking in his sleep. have you ever been strangled in your sleep? oh don’t worry that’s probably just baji dreaming of choking kisaki to death
chifuyu: sneaks peke j in because he can’t sleep without his cat. thankfully, he’s one of the calmer people, probably second to takemichi. he also brings over his nail polish and offers to do everyone’s nails! oh uh, ignore the barfing noises in the background: that’s just chifuyu after he’s eaten one pop tart too many. given up on sleep yet?
mitsuya: he’s willing to be more chill. he loves his sisters, but it’s practically a gift from heaven having one night to himself. he brings all of the snacks, much to mikey’s delight. he’s also probably surprisingly calm during the scary movie, but only because he had a weird but short phase sometime during middle school where he would watch nothing but horror movies. it explains a lot about luna and mana’s upbringing, actually. he’ll try to get inui to model in some clothes for him, much to hakkai’s jealously.
hakkai: slightly bummed because mikey has a super tight grip on the snacks and won’t seem to share (it’s fine, draken is going to get some more). also, mitsuya is asking someone ELSE to model for him, which he seriously can’t stand. luckily, he has someone to rant to (ahem, angry) while he gets his nails done by chifuyu. he’s terrified out of his mind during the movie, screaming really loudly during the jump scares. it’s an odd sight: hakkai’s six foot ass cowering behind mitsuya, who’s calmly munching on some popcorn with takemichi without batting an eye.
pah chin: don’t tell koko, but he somehow managed to sneak his dog, pochi into the fucking house. chifuyu’s not the only one who can’t sleep without his pet. peh-yan is the only one who knows pochi is there. they hide pochi in a closet, occasionally feeding pochi some leftover snacks that mikey hasn’t claimed yet. it’s literally the worst kept secret because these two share a collective brain cell, but somehow no one has noticed yet because there’s too much chaos going on. unfortunately, the closet they hide pochi in just happens to be where koko’s shoes and fancy clothes are stored. don’t worry! koko doesn’t find out until the very next morning, or the morning after THAT, because he’s so exhausted he literally passes out for two days. that’s how much of a headache these dumbasses are
peh yan: nervously helps pah-chin smuggle pochi inside koko’s house. he nearly spills the secret like three times to five different people, but everyone thinks he’s joking. he works off the stress by playing (several) rounds of mario kart with smiley, who is unsurprisingly good at it. after the end of his rage-quit, the TV’s shattered and broken, the consoles are split into two, and koko’s headache turns into a migraine.
smiley (nahoya): whatever you do, do NOT turn your back on this fucking demon. he’s all ready to party and get wild, and by party, he means pranking the shit out of everyone at least once. he’s already got to takemichi literally after he just stepped into the house with the classic bucket prank. takemichi seems to be his favorite target by far, partially because he’s so easy to prank. he reluctantly stops filling the water balloons with boiling hot water only because mitsuya catches him in the act. did I mention that his son of a bitch craves violence?
angry (souya): kind of becomes everyone’s therapist for tonight. he sympathetically listens to his friends’ ranting, purely because he just wants all the tea (keeping a secret? forget it. he’s gonna spill to smiley like ten seconds later anyways). during the water balloon fight, he grabs a giant nerf gun instead, which automatically makes him the winner because everyone’s desperately trying to escape his carnage. after all, he was closest to winning smiley’s paintball party last year. 
koko: man I feel so sorry for this guy. everyone chooses his fancy-ass mansion for the location of their sleepover (without permission because permission is for weak ass nerds ofc ). his blood stress and headache is higher than usual, which is saying something. you know that feeling when you’ve had a busy day at school, and your backpack is so fucking heavy it’s practically killing your spine, neck and shoulders? that’s what he’s feeling right now, but worse. don’t worry, everyone trashed his house, but paying for the property damage will barely scratch his bank account.
inui: it’s a little awkward for him because he’s rarely slept over at someone else’s house (other than koko’s), and he isn’t quite close to the others yet. he pointedly avoids other people (mitsuya, who he literally whacked over the head with a baseball bat, hakkai, because he used to be taiju’s subordinate, mikey. because mikey made it very clear that he doesn’t like inui very much, and koko, because fuck you, read the manga). he sticks close to draken’s side and kind of just follows him everywhere until draken tells him to get to know the others better. that leads to him chatting quietly with takemichi, who seems to welcome him. chifuyu’s very eager to paint his nails (red, because it’s the colour of mitsuya’s blood after he got whammied in the head!). mitsuya is determined to make inui his new model project (again, much to hakkai’s envy and distress), and tries to talk to him, which makes inui avoid him because he’s worried that mitsuya’s going to confront him. luckily, it turns out that mitsuya just wants him to try on some clothes, much to inui’s relief. he ends up making some new friends!
kazutora: you thought mikey and baji was bad, huh? well kazutora is (arguably) worse. he’ll keep it civil for the first hour, only making like, 20 snide comments toward chifuyu while chifuyu is doing his nails (the only thing that’s keeping chifuyu from dumping acrylic nail polish all over on kazutora’s stupid egirl banana hair is that the nail polish was expensive as hell ). kazutora’s favorite prank victim also happens to be poor takemichi, which leads to a competition between smiley and kazutora to see who can prank takemichi the most. suffice to say, takemichi had a truly awesome horrible night.
kisaki: i’d like to make one thing clear. this bastard was NOT invited at all. he’d be a mood killer to have around anyways. even if he was, chifuyu would have killed him before he could even take a single step inside the house.
hanma: in a hypothetical turn of events, let’s just say that if hanma WAS at the sleepover (hypothetically, of course), he would be just as chaotic as smiley, except his idea of “fun” is setting something on fire with those stupid cigarettes of his (don’t smoke kids!! protect your lungs). stealing baji’s forte? not cool hanma. :/
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going-dead · 3 years
Text
Lightning Scars and Listening Ears
Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l
Team Human: @currentlylurking​
Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.
Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.
“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.
One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.
Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.
All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.
After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.
The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”
“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.
Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.
Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.
Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”
“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.
David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”
“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.
“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.
Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.
1: Phantom at some point had died
2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.
3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.
As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?
Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.
Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.
“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”
Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.
“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”
Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”
As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”
David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.
Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”
David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”
“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”
“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.
Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”
“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”
“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.
“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”
“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.
“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”
Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.
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siwoline · 3 years
Text
“can we stay like this forever?” — [sjy.]
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♫ : spaces by martti franca
word count: 1,901  |  angst, masochist
<masterlist> <prev> <next>
some, if not everyone, surely had a tower moment. a phase when everything seems to go downfall and you had no other choice but to surrender to wherever the universe takes you. some faced everything alone and some found a companion.
in your case, you had jake.
you met each other through a common friend back in high school. it was just a “hey, this is y/n. y/n, this is jake.” type of introduction and you just both went on with your lives separately, not minding each other’s business because you clearly had nothing to do with it. you weren’t interested with him and, on your point of view, he wasn’t too.
but suddenly, you passed by each other’s lives again, when he saw you sitting like a drunk single aunt by the gutter of an abandoned gas station. it was because you told your friends you’ll walk your way home even though your vision was spinning and your head hurt like hell.
you remember, “y/n?” jake mispronounced your name when he saw you then.
and you corrected him even though you’re drunk by saying, “it’s y/n! you stupid!”
“i’m sorry, y/n. do you need something?”
obviously! is this man really stupid? were your thoughts. you were looking at him meaningfully, trying to tell him that he’s unbelievable but he seems to not care about your stares. he just reached for your arms and guided you to wrap them around his broad shoulders.
this man’s caring. what the hell.
as much as you wanted to throw your shoes at jake that time, you just didn’t have the energy to fight and perhaps you wanted to thank him for somehow taking care of you even though you barely know each other.
after that night, you were informed that, apparently, jake studies in the same university and he lives near your pad. and according to your common friend, it’s just a 10-minute ride from yours.
your encounter with him did not stop there because you saw each other again on a party hosted by your friend. the moment you laid eyes at each other, he recognized you right away and walked towards you leaving a girl who’s clearly hitting on him that time.
that night, you two shared stories and even danced with some acquaintances, completely unaware that it was the start of something you didn’t anticipate.
“who’s this?” you said when you picked up the call of someone who’s bugging you at three in the morning, the day after your friend’s party.
that’s when you heard jake mumbling words you cannot decipher because first, it was, again, three in the morning, and second, he was a drunk zombie.
“where are you?” you asked him repetitively and still trying to respond to what he was saying until the bartender took over the phone and told you where he is.
you went to the bar to fetch him. jake looked so wrecked and tired from the world, he’s a complete mess when you saw him lying on the bar’s couch. when you went to him and woke him up, he looked at you and there you saw his stares. his intense eyes looked like he wanted someone to save him or just someone who’s willing to hear his stories.
and so you did.
it was almost everyday, at three in the morning, when you go out to see each other at the gas station where you first met as acquaintances. you’d bring snacks from your stock and he’d bring drinks bought from the convenience store he’ll pass by on his way to you.
you’d talk about everyday, how things went wrong and how things are going. you’d tell him that the only constant thing in the world is life fucking you up and his boisterous laugh would disturb anyone and anything near. he’d tell you how pretty the night sky is and how badly he wanted to travel just to see its end and you’d agree and tell jake you’ll go with him.
no one knew of the times you’re together, not even the friend who introduced you to each other. it was just a moment between you two, and you hate to admit but there are times that by thinking of it, the thought of seeing jake, made you feel things.
and god, as well as jake, knows how badly you hate feeling tickling emotions, those of the positive kind, because you know that there’s definitely an aftermath.
“how’s your brother?” he randomly asked when you were just talking about an online post you shared with each other through chat.
“he’s doing well. you want to see him next weekend?” then he nodded as a response.
it was not just you who grew fond of jake, some of your family members, only those whom he met, did as well. especially your little brother. they’d play games when you and jake would come over to your grandfather’s house where your brother temporarily lives. they would also talk about boy stuff, completely excluding you from the conversation, and you can see the both of them enjoying their time.
and, annoyingly, again, this made you feel more at ease with jake.
“do you still drink?” you asked meaninglessly.
“not anymore,” he shrugged, as if saying he doesn’t know why.
“as i am,” that’s when he looked at you, confused. “i don’t know. maybe i’m healed,” and you laughed with the absurdity of the thought.
but jake smiled with what you said, “that can be true.”
“what about you? you’re finally moved on from the woman you cried for when i first fetched you at the bar?”
he turned his head away, obviously feeling shy. “that was more than a year ago, y/n.” his lips are forming a pout. “plus, i’m being comforted in a much healthier way.”
you were shocked by his response. “you’re seeing someone again?”
he shook his head and said, “i just found comfort in someone’s presence.”
“isn’t that the same?”
he looked at you and said, “i don’t want to intervene in their peace.”
then all of a sudden, that was your last encounter with jake. you didn’t hear any news about him or his whereabouts for a good six months. when you were told that he’ll be attending a seminar, you woke up late which led to not seeing him around the campus ever since. just like that, jake was nowhere to be found.
and you cannot believe why jake’s no-show bothered you so much.
you thought of him almost everyday, thinking whether he’s doing fine or coping from his heartbreak and problems. you thought of how he’s doing in school because you haven’t seen his shadow from anywhere. you were dead worried of him yet no one knows that you still are.
“y/n, later! don’t pretend to forget, you brat,” you laughed and nodded as a response.
your friend is having a party tonight and you prepared for it the moment you arrived home. wearing the simplest attire, almost looking as if you’re not interested to go, you went to the party.
the moment you stepped foot at the bar, you were reminded of several things. and definitely one of them is jake.
weird how the loud bass and taste of beer feels so nostalgic for you. was it the long period of time that passed since you decided to quit drinking? or was it, again, him?
you shook your head, trying to brush off the thought you have in mind. you took your fifth glass of cuervo and looked at your wristwatch only to see that it’s about three in the morning. you stood up, with your head quite heavy, and went to find your friend so you could bid good bye and leave. 
only to be stopped at your tracks because a pair of eyes are staring at you intensely. it’s jake.
it was quite a moment when you stared at each other but you decided to pretend as if you didn’t see anything. you’re confused at what you’re feeling at the very moment because, for you, you’re not supposed to feel anger just because he didn’t show up nor feel as if you’re longing for his presence.
“y/n,” you heard him call your name and a cold palm touched your skin when he held your hands to stop you from walking away.
you faced him, trying to show a smile. and there you saw a cleaner look of jake, a more mature one you must say. you looked at his eyes and you were surprised with what you’re seeing. your smile grew wider, more genuine this time, because he definitely looks happier now.
“hey. long time no see,” was all you can utter.
“y/n, i’m sorry—”
“look, i have to go home. the apartment’s gate,” you were cut off by him telling you that, “there’s no curfew and you always have a key with you. you don’t forget that. you’re afraid to get locked out.”
right. of course, jake knows that.
you’re afraid to get locked out, you’re afraid to be left behind. without a word, without any notice. you find it hard to forget, especially the moments dear to you, the moments that kept you warm. he knows that but why did he leave was all over your head.
“i have to go,” you said and let go of his hand but he didn’t budge. you kept moving and telling him to, “let go, jake.”
“y/n, i like you.” was what jake needed to say to make you stop from struggling.
he reached for your right arm and now his intense stares feel as if it can see your soul. and what happens now is the very thing you’re afraid of.
“i like you, i love you, i,” he sighed in frustration. “the last time we saw each other, it was you i was referring to. it was you whom i do not want their peace to be ruined. god, i even wanted to talk to you when you were first introduced to me. i wanted to hear more of your stories, i wanted to be even just a small part of your life, y/n.”
“i was so afraid of telling you because i know you fear this the most. you fear feeling things, you fear giving and risking all that you have, you fear the warmth of what love could give, y/n. i know that and you’ve always reminded me about that.” he continued.
“then why are you telling me this now?” i said, almost shouting because of how frustrated i am with what he’s saying. “why are you telling me you love me after leaving me, jake?”
“because,” he paused, looking both tired and frustrated of what’s happening right now. “because i can never get over you. i tried but i can’t and maybe because i do not even want to, y/n. i hate—”
“i fear commitments, jake.”
he looked at you, stared even, and smiled as if he just got reminded of a detail he forced himself to set aside.
still looking at you, with eyes begging you to let out what you really do feel, he said, “you can take your time. please, just allow me to—”
“i fear commitments, jake,” you repeated what you said. “what’s so hard to understand—”
“then just have me by your side, like old times, please.”
107 notes · View notes
exosmutfactory · 3 years
Text
Six Phases FINALE Pt 1
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Originally posted by sefuns
Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)
networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net
pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)
word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])
genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda
[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]
A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰
@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​
I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
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July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.
It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.
"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.
Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.
I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."
"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."
A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.
"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"
"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."
She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."
"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."
"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."
"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"
"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."
"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.
"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.
I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.
"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.
"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."
I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."
Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 
"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.
"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 
"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.
"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."
"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"
"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."
"She has a girlfriend?"
Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.
I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."
"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.
"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."
My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.
*
Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Y'all ready?
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Ready as I'll ever be!
//
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Kyungsoo?
//
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
You owe me for this shit
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
I promise to help you bake in his place
\\
\\
As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')
\\
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks
//
I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
\\
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
😂
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Hey!
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
Ready guys?
\\
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
Yes
//
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Yeah
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Mmhm >:(
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰
\\
*
I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," She mumbles.
"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."
A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."
"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."
"Riley!"
I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."
"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."
"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."
Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"
Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.
Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.
Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"
"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."
"Three different chocolates?"
"Mmhm."
"Perfectly symmetrical?"
"Yep," Yeol chimes in.
I grin, "She's going to love it."
"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"
I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"
Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."
"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.
"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.
"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.
Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."
"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."
They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."
"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.
Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.
Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.
The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.
Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.
I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.
No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 
I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…
Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?
He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.
Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.
"You're staring."
"I love admiring art."
"So I'm an object now?"
The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."
My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—
"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.
I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.
The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—
His eyes…
They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 
"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.
"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."
He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...
"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"
"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.
"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.
"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."
Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"
He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."
A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—
"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.
"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."
"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."
The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.
"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.
His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"
"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.
He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."
I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"
"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."
"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.
"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.
"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"
"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"
Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—
A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.
Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…
The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...
"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."
"Wait-"
I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—
A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.
The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.
My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.
Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"
"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."
He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.
"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"
"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."
"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."
Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.
"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"
A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."
"Huh?" I blink.
Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."
A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.
•••
I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.
Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.
He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.
He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.
A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.
Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.
"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."
She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.
"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."
"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"
"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."
"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.
I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"
She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.
"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."
"But-"
"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."
"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"
"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"
"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."
My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.
Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.
"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."
Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 
Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."
"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.
"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."
Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"
"Now."
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"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.
Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."
I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."
"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.
"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.
Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.
"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"
"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."
"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."
"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.
"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."
"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.
"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.
Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."
I raise a brow. "That's it?"
"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."
I frown, "Why?"
"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."
Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"
"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."
I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 
"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."
"I don't even work here!"
He gives me a look.
"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"
The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-
They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.
Oh fuck no.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.
"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.
"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.
"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.
Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"
"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."
"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"
"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"
"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.
Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"
"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."
Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.
"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."
"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"
Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"
"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."
"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."
"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.
He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"
"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.
Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"
"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."
"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.
Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"
"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.
"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."
"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.
Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.
"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.
A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."
Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.
I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.
Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.
Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."
He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.
Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."
I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.
"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.
"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.
"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.
Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.
My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 
No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.
"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.
Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"
"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."
"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."
"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.
Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."
Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."
"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."
I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.
"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"
"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."
"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"
"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."
"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."
"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.
"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."
"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."
"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."
That's it.
Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"
"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."
Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.
I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"
"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."
Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.
Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.
"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"
"Ri-"
"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"
Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.
"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."
I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.
"I get that," He says quietly.
A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"
"I never cheated on you."
"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Really? You really are going to deny-"
"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."
Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 
Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."
My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"
"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.
Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"
"I already lost you."
My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.
"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"
"And what makes you say that?"
His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."
"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"
"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."
"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—
"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."
"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."
"Thank you."
"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.
Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.
"B-Baek?"
He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"
My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"
"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."
I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?
Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…
I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.
The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.
"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.
"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"
Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.
"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"
He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"
Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.
"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."
It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."
He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.
I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…
•••
It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.
No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…
Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.
Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.
It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.
It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 
I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.
Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.
It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.
A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.
My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.
Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 
Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…
"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.
My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...
"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."
A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.
7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!
I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…
"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.
It doesn't take my breath away.
"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.
My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."
He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"
"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.
Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.
His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.
He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.
My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...
Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."
His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.
Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?
"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.
I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.
"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.
"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"
"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.
"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.
"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."
My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.
Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—
"Ladies first," His low voice muses.
Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.
Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?
We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...
A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...
"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.
"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—
"Are you really that insecure?"
The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.
"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.
"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 
Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."
Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"
"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."
I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"
"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."
"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.
Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.
Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—
"I love this song."
Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."
"Your parents have great taste."
"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."
I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.
Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.
"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.
"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.
Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.
"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?
His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.
The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.
"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.
The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.
The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.
"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.
"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.
Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.
"How was your day?" He inquires.
I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 
A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.
"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.
"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."
His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"
I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."
"You work in a publishing house?"
"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."
"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."
"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."
"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 
I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.
When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.
I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.
"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."
"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.
I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."
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Originally posted by sefuns
August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.
Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.
The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.
Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.
The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.
Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.
I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"
"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.
"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.
"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."
"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.
"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"
I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.
"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."
Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."
Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."
A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.
Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.
My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.
•••
Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.
I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.
Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.
This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.
Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…
"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.
I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."
Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 
Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.
The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.
"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.
"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."
He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.
"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.
"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.
He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.
"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.
The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."
"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.
Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.
Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.
"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.
"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.
"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"
"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.
I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.
Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.
Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.
I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"
"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.
Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.
"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—
Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.
Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."
"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"
•••
The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 
This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.
It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.
"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 
Baekhyun.
On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.
No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.
I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.
Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.
"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."
Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."
With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.
A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?
Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.
Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.
I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.
His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.
I all but throw myself at him.
Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"
"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.
"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"
"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.
"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.
Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."
I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"
"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."
"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."
Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.
I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."
•••
It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.
Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.
Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.
—Like right now.
"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."
"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.
"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"
Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."
Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.
"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."
"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."
"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."
I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.
"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.
"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.
"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."
"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.
"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.
"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.
Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."
I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.
Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.
"Riley?"
I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.
Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"
"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"
A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.
"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"
Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."
Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.
"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."
"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."
He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.
"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."
Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."
Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.
Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"
"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."
Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"
"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"
I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"
"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"
I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"
Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.
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After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.
Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.
Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.
Now, the third option is one to behold.
A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 
Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…
Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.
I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.
Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.
"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"
I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."
She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."
Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?
"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.
"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."
"I-"
"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."
Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.
The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.
Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.
I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.
"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.
"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."
Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.
"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.
He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 
I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.
Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.
"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."
My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.
Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.
The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.
He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."
The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.
A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 
The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.
"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."
I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)
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A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗
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ask-feederjin · 3 years
Note
Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?
Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><
Jin had just put the final revisions on a work project when a notification popped up on his computer.
“Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?
Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><”
Oh if only, Jin sighs softly. He wishes he could say that their youngest does, but that would be a lie. Either way, Anon needs an answer!
-
Oh, he wishes! Poor Jungkook has a ridiculously fast metabolism, much to his dismay. It was great for him when he was a gym rat, effortlessly maintaining his washboard abs. But now it is his ultimate curse.
We’ve been doing research on how to lower or, in Jungkook’s words, “completely ruin” his metabolism.
So far, we’ve chosen to have him switch to a completely sedentary activity level, bulk up on carbs, flip into “starvation mode” between stuffings and replacing that banana milk he likes to drink with soda. We also heard that lack of sleep can contribute to a drop in metabolism, but I vetoed that one. Jungkook may be willing to suffer sleep deprivation to get fatter, but that’s not something I’m willing to support.
On the topic of him getting tired… Hmm… I think it would only really happen if he was going out of his way to be active? Like, him just walking around or lifting basic things doesn’t phase him yet, but exercise on the other hand… Give me one second!
-
“Jungkook!” Jin called out.
“Yeah?” He heard back. It sounded like Jungkook had just woken up from a post breakfast nap.
“Could you come here please, baby?” Jin was now curious. How has his physicality changed in the past two months? Would he get out of breath easily? Or has his years of exercise and healthy eating still blocked that?
“Do I have to?” He whined. Jin felt butterflies in his stomach at just how lazy his boyfriend has gotten.
“Yes!” Jin laughed.
After what sounded like some shuffling and grunting, Jungkook sleepily wandered into Jin’s office.
“You never make me come to you…” The youngest complained halfheartedly, scratching his tummy.
“Forgive me just this once, your highness.” Jin snarked back. “I just wanted to… do a little test.”
Jungkook perked up the the word ‘test’. Jin knew he would never pass up an opportunity to prove himself.
“What do I need to do?” The younger man asked excitedly, watching as Jin pushed his rolling desk chair to the corner of the room.
“Well… first I’m going to need you to stand riiiight here. There, perfect!” Jin maneuvered the taller boy to stand right in front of his computer screen. “Wait just a second, babe.”
The screen suddenly changed from spreadsheets to a camera screen. Jin pressed record…
-
The video starts off in a well kept room. Orderly bookshelves line the background, tiny potted vines trailing down the fronts.
Pulling away from the screen, you catch a blurry glimpse of knobby knuckles and trimmed nails. Front and center stands a rather tall young man. He has short, shiny black hair and warm brown eyes. Said eyes are currently large with confusion.
The young man is wearing a rather ill-fitting set of pajamas. The bottoms fit well enough, but the top’s buttons are slightly strained. A soft looking paunch hangs out from the too small shirt, wobbling as the young man shifts uncertainly. He rests both hands on the mass, rubbing slowly.
“Okay, -ahem-.” You hear a man’s voice says off camera say. “Hello, everyone! This is the first video I’ll be uploading to the blog, yay! It was originally going to be the third month weigh in, but it seems I just couldn’t wait.”
The young man on screen chuckles a bit, relaxing at the lighthearted conversation.
The voice resumes speaking, “Either way! We’re here now! This is Jungkook, some of you might recognize his face from the profile section of the blog, but if you haven’t then here he is! Say hi, Kookie.”
Jungkook blushes, waving at the camera. “Hi guys… I’m uh, I’m Jungkook.”
“Oh! And I’m Jin!” The disembodied voice frantically shouts. Jungkook bursts into giggles. “I’m Jin! The owner of the blog! I’m also apparently an idiot.” Jin ducks his head into the camera, giving you an unattractive, sideways close up of his eyes and nose.
“Veryprofessional, Jin.” Jungkook grins teasingly.
Jin’s too-close head turns, presumably to glare at the focus of the video. “Yes, I am a professional thank you very much. Now take your shirt off, fatty.”
Jin walks to the side of the room again, giving you a nearly full view of Jungkook’s body. The young man blushes again, levity gone, and starts to unbutton his sleep shirt.
With each button undone, the fabric gratefully springs to the side. Soon the boy’s tan tummy lays bare, angry looking stretchmarks decorating the lower part of it.
Jungkook tosses his shirt off camera, breathing slowly and evenly. “Wh-what now?”
“Jiggle it.”
Jungkook’s breath hitched, eyes closing slightly. He brings both large hands to his jello like gut and proceeds to bounce it up and down. For a minute of two, he shakes it briefly, only to let go and wait for the jiggly mass to settle. He stares at the camera, as if he’s watching himself in the feedback footage.
One hand slides up to cup his soft chest, while the other slaps gently at his belly entranced by the bounce.
“Now, turn to your side.” Jin’s voice startles Jungkook out of his self exploration. Jin himself walks towards the now sideways Jungkook, pressing up against his back. Jin reaches his arms around Jungkook to lift the younger man’s pot belly. He squeezes, pinches and lets it drop to watch it wobble.
“Tsk tsk tsk…” He pokes a long finger into the pliant flesh. “Someone’s let himself go it seems…”
“Ah~! I- I have!” Jungkook moans. “I’m soooo lazy, and- and greedy.”
“Lazy is right you little piggy.” Jin pulls away from playing with the taller boy’s belly button, walking back off screen. “Why don’t we give our viewer’s a little show? See how out of shape you’ve really gotten?”
Jungkook can only nod, face a bright red.
“Gimme fifty jumping jacks.”
“Fifty?! Jin! That’s too many!” Jungkook gapes at the man off screen.
“You used to do sets of eighty not even a year ago, I’m sure your fat ass can manage one set of fifty.”
“I’ll try I guess…” Jungkook doesn’t look optimistic. He gets in position anyway and starts counting out loud.
“One, two, three, four, five, six…”
The up and down movement vigorously shakes his little jelly belly, truly revealing just how much fat had accumulated there.
“Fifteen, sixteen, seh-seventeen, eight -hah hah- eighteen…” The poor boy’s face was tomato red and shiny with sudden sweat. His arms keep perfect time, but his legs move less far apart with each jump.
“Nine-hah-teen, twenty!” Jungkook is huffing now, tiny breasts quaking each time he lands. He is so out of breath now that he only mutters what vaguely sounds like numbers with each jumping jack.
“Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three…” Jin picks up where the out of breath young man left off. “Come on tubby, you were doing this in your sleep six months ago! What happened?”
Jungkook is gasping now, arms waving less with each jump, feet not even moving apart. A drop of sweat hangs precariously off of a perky nipple, only to fall onto his gut not even a second later.
“Are you seriously this out of shape?” Jin sounds genuinely surprised now, instead of teasing. Jungkook plops onto the floor panting. His previously neat hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, neck and chest pink from effort. “Kookie, you only did 31 jumping jacks.”
“I- gasp- I can’t…” The chubby boy leans back against the bookshelf. “I’m too fat…”
“Oh no. I’ll be the one to tell you when you’re too fat. Right now?” Jin squats down and smacks Jungkook’s sweaty belly, eliciting a moan from the boy. “You’re barely overweight.”
“I’ll get bigger! I promise!” The younger man pleads, having seemingly forgotten about the fact that he’s being recorded.
“Bigger? Eating like you are now? I don’t think so. You’re going to have to pick up the pace if you want to be the fattest boy in the house. Even Hobi will get bigger than you at this rate.” Jin gave Jungkook’s red, sweaty paunch one last wobbling pat before standing back up again. Jungkook stays on the ground, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his pajama pants.
“Okay guys!” The older man addresses the camera, winking. “It looks like Jungkook can still do thirty one jumping jacks before he gives up. You could say his stamina isn’t what it used to be! I’m gonna get this little piggy back to bed now. I think the poor thing’ll need another nap after so much exercise. Thank you for watching!”
Jin leans forward
The screen goes black.
-
I went ahead and attached a video instead of just writing down the answer ^-^;
I hope you don’t mind using headphones, haha! It got a little steamy there for a second… I should really get a video editing program so I can cut out those bits of me turning the camera on and off. Maybe even use my phone next time or something.
Oh well, lessons for later.
I hope that answers your question, Anon!
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harryspet · 4 years
Text
secret service | bucky barnes
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[Warnings] secret service!bucky x reader, reader is vp’s daughter, bodyguard!bucky, agegap, noncon/dubcon sex, brat tamer bucky, dominant x submissive, rough sex (wear protection kids!!)
A/N: this is for @nsfwsebbie​ ‘s dream fic challenge. Happy b-day sab! this is @mypoisonedvine​ ‘s dream fic and the prompt was “I would love anything dark bucky, especially if he starts out all nice and stuff but then he's all manipulative and it gets worse and worse until we're in heavy dub con/non con territory”. hope you enjoy bb!
In which a political trip to London allows you to be reunited with your favorite secret service member, Bucky Barnes. 
taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything​ @saharzek​ @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet​ @what-is-your-wish​ @marvelslut-musicalnerd​ @brattypeony​ @hermayone​ @buckysugar​ @mandiiblanche​ @cherienymphe​
word count: 3.9k 
main masterlist
“You’ll need to be on your best behavior this weekend. We can’t have an incident like last year.”
You didn’t meet your mother’s eyes as you looked out the window of the private plane. Surprising to most, this time you spent watching her read her millions of paperwork was the most time you spent with her. Your mother cared for you but she was not warm. You didn’t believe a warm person could make it so high in the government. Being the daughter of the Vice President, you saw the kinds of dirty, manipulative politics that went on behind the scene. 
You wanted little part of it but, here you were, about to land in London for an important public event. 
“Y/N? Are you listening?” She continued to talk despite your lack of an answer, “That means you tell your agents when you’re going somewhere. I don’t care if you’re only walking down the hall to the ice machine, you tell them. You’ve known this since you were a little girl, I don’t know why you always give me a hard time.”
“I’m already here alone, Mom. Must you torture me further by suffocating me?”
“I know you must think it’s fun to rendezvous with some foreign prince but I must ask you to keep your legs closed for this trip and listen to your security.”
Your mouth parted. She thought of you as some whore but the truth was that you were far from the persona she forced upon you, “You don’t know me at all. And Alden isn’t a prince, his father is a prince. He’s just a duke,” You faked a smile and she scowled at you. 
You weren’t expecting her next words, “I have a surprise for you when we land.”
You paused for a moment, trying to read her face. She was perfect at disguising her true emotions and, as her daughter, the thought that you didn’t really know your mother was saddening, “A surprise? I thought you were lecturing me.”
“You won’t listen unless I bribe you, Y/N,” Just as the words left her mouth, the pilot spoke on the intercom. The plane was beginning its descent and in a moment you’d be landing. One of your mother's assistants had to approve all your outfits for this trip. After some discourse, you decided on a light pink dress for your arrival look. It hugged your curves the way you liked but it reached down to your knees modestly as your mother preferred. 
When you were finally stepping down the stairs to the plane, watching your mother wave to the press, and the diplomats ready to greet her, you realized what your surprise was. Two sleek, black cars waited at the end of the red carpet and the sight of the man standing in front of the second one made your heart race. 
It took everything in you not to run to him. His dark hair was styled neatly, his arms folded over his nicely pressed black suit and a soft look of happiness was displayed on his strong face. He was just like you remembered him, the earpiece in his ear and the gold pin on his lapel reminded you of his position. 
“This is my surprise?” Your mother turned to you with a grin. 
“I know how much you like Agent Barnes, maybe you’ll actually listen to him. You’re going straight to your hotel room, I will see you later tonight.”
“Of course, my beloved mother.  Like all teenagers, I love sitting in my hotel room and doing nothing while I’m on a trip.”
You watched your mother walk away from you, going to the first car while you approached the second car. Your speed picked up as you neared him. He opened the door for you, winking, “Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach. I repeat, Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach.”
Everyone the secret service protected had a codename. You’d been a proud girl scout for most of elementary school and then middle school when your mother went from Senator to Vice President. The name stuck and you thought it was annoying now that you’d grown out of that phase but you liked the name on his lips. 
As you carefully slipped inside the car, you were beaming and, as Bucky slipped in beside you, you had to wait to pounce. You attacked him with a hug as soon as the doors closed and none of the crowd could see you through the tinted windows. You felt his hand against your back, hugging you tightly and it was then that you realized how touch starved you had been. 
Everyone you came in contact had to go through your guards and that was often an intimidating process for most guys. Even though you had started college, you decided to avoid boys altogether because of this. 
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Your eyes were wide even as you pulled away from him, “How?”
Bucky gave you a soft smile, “Well I can’t tell you all the details since they’re top secret but, let’s say, my mission didn’t take as long as predicted.”
Your eyes narrowed at him in curiosity, “So you killed the bad guys and they let you come back to play babysitter?”
Bucky shook his head, giving you an amused look, “So crass. I see nothing has changed,” He leaned over and, for the briefest second, you thought his face was leaning into yours. Instead, he had reached over to grab your seatbelt as he safely secured it around your waist. Your cheeks heated up and you found yourself looking into the rearview mirror where you could see the two agents sitting in the front seat, “I apologize for being gone so long.”
“You didn’t miss much,” You said to console him, “Just senior year which was nothing special.”
Seeing him now made you think about meeting him those six years ago. He was so young then, just having served in the Army, but somehow aging had made him look even better. You had a feeling he was just as king and loyal as before. You were just a middle schooler at the time, hormonal, and constantly fighting with your parents about your lack of freedom. Maybe you hadn’t changed much either. 
You watched him fasten his own seatbelt as the car began to take off, “Nothing special, hmm?” He cocked his eyebrow, “What about prom? Graduation?”
“Oh, it was effectively ruined by my arch-nemesis. He stole my spot as Salutatorian, my prom date wouldn’t stop talking to him about nanotech for the entire evening, and guess who got into Stanford for early admission just like yours truly?”
“Little Peter Parker?” Bucky chuckled. 
“He’s not so little anymore,” You crossed your arms, pouting, “He’s only jealous that my mother was chosen as Vice President and his uncle was chosen for the lousy Secretary of Labor position.”
“Seems he must like you a lot to follow you to Stanford. To move all the way across the country,” You gave him an incredulous look, “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Of course I’ve noticed,” You rushed out your words, trying to ignore that feeling you got when he called you princess. If anyone else had said that, you’d probably feel disgusted but … you couldn’t help but think that term of endearment had changed its meaning. The truth was that you never thought Peter liked you and now you were worrying that your lack of social awareness had caused you to ignore the warning signs, “The last person I want to talk about is Peter Parker, Bucky.”
“Fine,” He folded his hands in front of him, sighing. 
“Besides,” You side-eyed him mischievously, “I have someone far more important who feigns for my attention.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky leaned in. 
“A duke,” You finished.
Bucky’s face seemed to fall, “I can’t imagine you as a duchess,” You couldn’t imagine yourself as one either but you liked the excitement that Alden brought you, “And your mother informed me of what happened last year. I’ll probably lose my job if something like that occurs again.”
“You’d tattle on me? I thought we were friends, Bucky.”
“That was when you were a harmless little girl. Now, you’re …” His eyes seemed to roam over your face then they fell to your neck but they moved back to your eyes before they could travel any lower, “You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?”
You reached out to tap his cheek playfully and smirked, “I missed you.”
+
You weren’t sure exactly what holier-than-thou charity that these rich people had gathered in ball gowns to donate to. It was probably a minuscule fraction of their wealth and they most likely were only here to keep up appearances. Still, you enjoyed a chance to dress up. 
You moved through the historical museum in a red ball gown, admiring all the expensive artifacts, as Bucky escorted you. You expected your mother to be with you during the event she’d forced you to attend but it seemed that she was once again too busy. You would’ve felt lonely if Bucky hadn’t been there. The other agents kept their distance, wearing tuxedos to blend into the rest of the crowd as they watched you from a distance. 
Every now and then your conversation with Bucky would be interrupted by a message coming through his squiggly earpiece. 
He looked quite handsome tonight and by the outline of his biceps against the fabric of his tuxedo jacket, you could tell he had bulked up over the last year. 
“Madam Vice President had a run-in with the Prime Minister's wife. Turns out they’ve been dying to talk. She’ll meet you once the auction begins.”
“Oh, an auction, is that what this is? What endangered species are we saving tonight?”
“Funny,” Bucky added sarcastically, “... I don’t see your prince around. Perhaps he found another famous daughter to entertain for the night.”
You gave him a venomous look, “That cannot be possible when I look like this,” You emphasized your glamorous look that had taken nearly five hours to get on, “Now, would you please escort me to my table? I’m sure he’ll come and find me once you’re not standing beside me like a big tree.”
The truth was that you had no idea if Alden even remembered you from last year. He did make out with you but who knows how many famous daughters he had tried to entertain before. You hated how right Bucky seemed. 
Bucky didn’t add anything to your harsh words as he escorted you into a large ballroom. It was so elegantly decorated that the room smelled like money. Blue stripes of light wavered through the room making it feel like you were in the middle of the ocean. You couldn’t help that the feeling of drowning that she experienced was a bad touch on the organizer's part. 
Of course, your mother’s table was right near the front of the room. As Bucky pulled back the white chair, you took a seat, not meeting his eyes, “You’re dismissed, Mr. Barnes,” You spoke over your shoulder. 
To your surprise, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “You cause any problems tonight, princess, and you deal with me.”
Your mouth pinched into a thin line as you were left speechless. When you looked back, he was already walking away, taking his position by the far wall. You looked away quickly, mentally cursing. So much for having the upper-hand. You slouched in your seat, looking around the hall which was now flooding with people. 
A few people you vaguely remembered having a conversation with approached you to talk. Hollywood celebrities, European politicians, and even famous designers hoping to get you to wear some of their designs. Lately, the paparazzi loved to follow you as you walked to class and gossip sites loved to talk about what you wore. 
Everyone was so busy trying to get your attention that you hadn’t noticed someone slip in the seat beside you, “You look like you need something to drink,” You were a bit startled but you immediately recognized his voice. It seemed a year had made him more handsome as well. With one hand he grabbed yours and kissed it and with the other he handed you a glass of champagne. 
“Your grace,” You greeted him, accepting the glass. You had almost forgotten that you could legally drink here. Despite that, you knew it would be improper to your mother. That’s why you took a sip, “Thank you so much-” You winced at the bitter taste but continued to sip. 
The young duke was tall and red-headed, his face peppered with adorable freckles. His royal get-up was even more attractive. 
You looked back at Bucky who was staring intently, “Is a night of fun in the cards for us?” You turned back to the Prince. 
“I’m not supposed to rendezvous with royalty anymore. My Mom was not happy with me.”
He leaned back casually in his chair, his leisurely nature was surprising to you, “Is she usually happy with you?”
“Touche,” You took another painful sip, “Still, I’m not supposed to leave this table and I’m supposed to go straight back to my hotel room. No funny business.”
“No shenanigans whatsoever?” He frowned and you wondered why the British accent was so heavenly, “You must, at the very least, keep me entertained through whatever ceremony this is-”
“An auction, your grace.”
“What endangered species are we trying to save this time? It won’t be enough money anyways since they decorated this place with literal diamonds,” You smiled as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, “Something stronger, perhaps?”
+
Bucky tapped his foot, starting to tune out the voice in his ear. 
The room was now full of socialites, Madam Vice President had been escorted to her seat, and now the auction was beginning. The Vice President hadn’t so much as hugged her daughter so Bucky doubted she had noticed you were drinking yet. The young Duke would refill your glass with a clear liquid every time it ran low. 
You were now giggling and laughing with him as a serious speech was given. You had to be at least six shots in. You played with his hand in your lap, leaning over to whisper in his ear, as you had the time of your life. 
Bucky didn’t panic, only made a quick decision, “Girl Scout is in need of some rescuing. Clear the exit.” 
Bucky scanned the room and his men began to follow his orders, as he approached your table. Before you could take another sip of your drink, his hand was on your shoulder. Your mother flashed him a concerned look but Bucky gave her a look to tell her not to worry. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed yet that you were about to go off the rails. 
“Want some?” You smiled lazily as you lifted your glass. Bucky took it from you, setting back on the table. 
“I think you need to use the bathroom, Miss Y/L/N,” You gave him a confused look. You wondered why he was being so stern with you. 
“Nooo, I think you have the wrong woman, officer,” Bucky grabbed onto your hand, urging you up from your seat, “Let me deal with this rude man, your grace, I’ll be back soon.”
It seemed the Duke was in a similar, drunk state and simply replied with, “Return soon, my darling. I shall wait for your return-” You couldn’t respond because Bucky was trying to pull you away. Luckily, Bucky hadn’t managed to cause a scene but he knew you’d end up getting blackout drunk and embarrassing your mother if you continued. 
Agents flocked around the two of you as you were guided out of the room. You almost tripped on the long skirt of your dress though Bucky easily caught you. You held onto him, giggling, “You couldn’t make it one night, could you?” You walked through a long hallway, staff carrying large plates of food passed and stared. 
He brought you to the bathroom which was ginormous in itself, chandeliers hanging across the length of it, and completely empty, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, officer.”
He leaned against the wall, “Walk around. Splash water on your face. Sober up.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning against the sink counter, as you stared at your makeup. As if you would ruin your makeup to “sober up”. 
You pouted, staring at him through the mirror, “I didn’t mean to make you mad, Bucky. Only my mother.”
“Your mother is my boss. When you upset her, she’s upset with me,” Bucky was terse, and you wondered where that soft side was starting to disappear to, “You shouldn’t be drinking anyway.”
You huffed, hating that this conversation was starting to ruin your buzz, “I’m not a child. Don’t tell me you never had a sip of alcohol before you were twenty-one.”
“You think you’re more mature than you actually are,” You couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face, “You’re not drinking for fun. You’re drinking to spite your mother.” 
He moved closer, his hands behind his back as he sunk his words into you like a knife. You turned to him, taking a challenging step toward him. He towered over you but you clung to that anger and turned it to what you thought was confidence. 
You grinned up at him, reaching out to play with the buttons of his jacket, “I thought you knew me better, Bucky,” You looked up at him with longing eyes, “I’m not a little girl anymore and you know that. You look at me differently. Your eyes linger on places you shouldn’t even be watching.”
Bucky grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, “Stop,” You knew you had touched a nerve. 
“See, I know these things now,” You teased, “You like it when you can swoop me up and save me.”
“It’s my job, Y/N,” He spoke sternly. He was still holding you despite his words. 
“What is it that you really want from me?” You pressed yourself closer to him, “A kiss maybe? Or something more forbidden?”
His eyes were dark with lust and you watched them linger on your lips at the mention of a kiss. What exactly did you want from him and what hole had you just dug for yourself? The alcohol was giving you courage but you weren’t actually sure how to finish what you started. 
Bucky decided for you. He turned your body quickly, pressing your back into him, as a hand tightened around your throat. He faced you toward the mirror and the two of you were illuminated with bright lights. Your eyes widened as you watched him lean into your ear, “You’re such a brat ….”
Maybe part of him wanted you to mess up. Maybe he wanted a reason to get you alone with him and away from the royal douche that you were talking to. Maybe he let you get to this point ... 
“Bucky, what are you-” His hand tightened around your throat and you felt your knees go weak. 
He shushed you, “You asked what I really wanted. I want to punish you, princess,” Shivers went through your body as his warm breath tickled your ear, “I want to fuck you speechless so you can’t talk back with that smart little mouth of yours anymore.”
You started to struggle against you but you felt his fingers tighten around the sides of your throat. His hands were so big that they wrapped perfectly around your neck, “Hands on the counter,” He loosened his grip but only so he could push you forward. Like instinct, your hands held the sink counter. You turned your head to look back at him but he grabbed your hair, forcing your face forward, “Look forward, I want you to be able to see your pretty face while I fuck you.”
“Bucky, I’m sorry,” You forced out shakily as you felt the back of your dress being slowly unzipped. Through the mirror, you watched as he carefully took in the view of your body, “Please don’t hurt me-”
“Have I ever hurt you before?” He interrupted you, his hands traveling over your bareback, “I’ll always protect you, princess. I just think, if I’m going to keep doing my job, we need some new rules.”
The straps of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your breast. Again, as you tried to look away, he forced your face towards the mirror again, “Don’t be shy now,” He pulled down your panties, slapping your now exposed bottom, sending a stinging pain through your skin. 
There was aching between your legs and part of you feared what he’d discover when he took a closer look. As you watched him undo his belt, a dark look in his eyes, you knew that he was going to push you all the way. He slapped your ass again, watching your body convulse as you tried to run from the pain. Surprisingly, his intimate touch only made that aching grow. 
Upon closer examination, Bucky did discover the wetness between your legs. You bit down on your lip as his fingers roamed over your sweet spot, rubbing your sensitive bulb. You bent over further, allowing him more access which caused Bucky to smirk. 
Something switched in him once again because suddenly he was pouncing again, positioning himself behind you as he pushed you further against the counter. He wanted you to see his face as he entered you, roughly grabbing your hair as he teased you entrance with his hard, throbbing cock. 
“Please…” 
“Please what? You want me to fuck you?” You closed your eyes, unwilling to answer, only to receive another smack to your bottom, “Don’t worry about what you want, princess, I’m making the decisions here.”
He stretched you as he slowly entered you and you tightly wrapped around his member, “Fuck, Y/N,” He cursed, moving deeper inside of you. At that moment, he was all that could feel, and all that consumed your thoughts. He moved torturously slow in and out of you and you gasped every time he sunk his entire length within you. 
“Bucky!” You cried out, your mouth wide as you gripped the counter for dear life, “Ah, t-t-too big … p-please. Ah!”
He moved faster now, reaching around to grab ahold of your breast as he thrust inside of you. You called his name again and that only made him speed up his pace. He was torturing with his ferocity and now you wished he’d go back to taking it easy on you. You watched in the mirror as he split you apart, taking whatever innocence you had left within you, “Good girl, princess,” He praised you, “Taking my cock. So. Good.”
He was moving too fast now. With each thrust, he was hitting the right spot and sending pleasure in cascading waves through your body. You couldn’t take it, already tightening around his cock as you orgasm. You tried to run from it, trying to pull your body forward but he grabbed your arms, forcing you back onto his cock. Tears stung your eyes as he went even deeper. 
When he finally came, he grunted hard, his moaning deep and heavy. You were defeated, conquered, though you didn’t understand why being violated could feel so good. 
You leaned against the counter as you tried to catch your breath. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily, before pulling up his pants and tightening his belt again. He adjusted his earpiece before looking at you over again. Shaking, you were pulling up the straps of your dress.
“Sober now?” He asked, a wicked smile on his face. “Let’s try yes sir and no sir from now on. Understand?”
“Yes… Sir.”
+
i love the whole secret service concept so i hope you enjoyed it too!
1K notes · View notes
ellewriteswrongs · 3 years
Text
picking favorites (a @tsbandau drabble)
if y’all aren’t emotionally invested in @underdog-arts ‘s band au, idk what y’all are even doing /j
anyway, here’s a wholesome family drabble insp. by the band au and my (not-so) subtle obsession with remus and janus. also subbing to their patreon is the best $5 i’ve probably ever spent, no joke
“Honey, you can still pick up Ry, right?” Janus called down the hallway, carrying a basket of laundry on each hip before depositing them in the hallway to put away later. Remus was seated in their shared office catching up on emails as Janus began packing up leftover pasta into containers to take to their show scheduled that night. 
“I told you I got ‘em,” he agreed, banging the last clumps of his protein shake into his mouth with the heel of his hand. “I’m gonna’ jog to V’s and grab the van.”
Janus nodded to themself out of instinct before faltering, their brow furrowing. 
“Wait—Re, that’s like three miles,” they challenged, dumping the dirtied dishes into the sink. “Just take the fucking car.”
Remus’ snort laugh was audible from down the hallway. 
“They asked for the van!” Remus cackled. “And I, for one, do not disappoint. Apparently making my kid’s friends think they’re cool is worth a three-mile jog.”
Janus rolled their eyes, albeit fondly. This was, unfortunately, not news. 
Riley was having an…interesting phase. It wouldn’t be abnormal for kids their age if it weren’t for the fact that their parents were ridiculously competitive, and all of their parents’ friends were eager to get in on it. 
As soon as Remus attended career day in Riley’s first grade classroom, resulting in the entire class of six-year-olds marveling at the fact that their friend’s dad was a “rock star.”
Janus loved that conversation over dinner that night. 
They weren’t jealous. No, in fact, it was probably overdue for Riley to have a bit of a “Daddy’s kid” phase, considering how joined at the hip they were with Janus for multiple years now. But they wanted to win. 
Riley could make their own decisions about picking a favorite parent. As long as that decision was Janus. 
“You’ve gone so-oft,” they sing-songed, smirking as Remus appeared in the kitchen behind them, wrapping one hand around their hip and pressing a kiss to their temple. “Ry’s got you wrapped around their finger.”
Remus have a flash of his crooked grin. 
“Yeah, well…at least I know where they get that from.”
Janus rolled their eyes, trying to hide their reddening face. 
“Sap,” they grumbled fondly. “Hurry up and get on with your run before you’re late to pickup. And tell V I said hey.”
Remus gave an exasperated chuckle and affirmation, but pocketed his keys and wallet nonetheless. 
The jog to Virgil’s apartment wasn’t a particularly strenuous three miles, being downtown and all, and Remus was far from out of shape. Still, three miles was three miles—especially in the late afternoon sun. Needless to say, Virgil wasn’t thrilled to have a giant sweaty man on his doorstep, but he handed over the keys nonetheless. 
The van was old, still clinging to its axels from when Remus himself purchased it from an old neighbor and declared it the band’s “tour bus.” It was nice enough at the time, especially for the price he paid, but it certainly wasn’t still around for anything more than sentimental value. 
Mainly just Remus refusing to get rid of it. 
That, and the fact that, for whatever reason, Riley thought it was the coolest thing ever. 
The drive wasn’t long, only the sitting in traffic of other parents in minivans trying to get into the school parking lot. He…wasn’t a fan of that part of being a parent, that’s for sure. He could do without any other parents, thank you very much, but at least it was fun to see how obvious all of them were in their distaste of both him and Janus, compared to how much their kid absolutely adored them. 
A fact that was only proven when Remus eventually made it to the parking lot and exited his van, only to be met with ear-splitting squeal of “daddy!” and an armful of six-year-old. 
He can’t deny how, even after all these years, the title still makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like…he is a dad. That’s his kid! How fucking rad is that!
He happens to spot a few other parents, along with some of Riley’s friends that he recognizes, and he offers a quick wave with the hand that isn’t mussing up his kid’s hair. 
“You brought the van,” Riley points out with a toothy grin that Remus can’t help mirroring. He can’t help the knot in his throat when he spots the gap in their teeth from their first ever lost tooth—which only meant they were getting much too old and Remus would really appreciate it if they would slow the fuck down.
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Riley nods, bouncing on Remus’ hip just a bit out of excitement. “I gotta’ warn you though, JJ’s getting pretty jealous.”
Riley laughs before sticking out their tongue and making a fart noise in Remus’s face. 
Remus is, for the thousandth time, bewildered at how Riley couldn’t possibly be more like Janus if they tried. And mostly smitten. He has the coolest kid on Earth, after all. 
“They can suck my butt!” Riley squeals and Jesus Christ, Remus is going to have a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He’s gonna’ have to grill Jan again to make sure those two aren’t secretly biologically related. 
“Hey, your words not mine, squirt,” he smirks, opening the van door and strapping them into the car seat. “And your early bedtime if you let JJ hear any of that.”
He finishes with a pinch on their nose before closing the van door and getting back in the driver’s seat. 
Riley, as soon as the radio turn on, starts protesting very aggressively to listen to “your songs, daddy! Play your songs!” 
Thankfully, he has a CD burned with some of their…cleaner songs for that exact purpose. 
Riley, for lack of a better word, was ‘singing’ along at a volume that Remus would’ve otherwise found hilarious and impressive if it wasn’t right in his ear. Still, there was a certain fondness that came with watching his kid’s excitement over his work—something that, as usual, was paired with thrashing within the confines of a car seat and headbanging their little heart out. 
Along the drive Remus made every attempt to stop the barrage of the screamo singer in the making, but all were ultimately unsuccessful. At least…until he pointed out one particular building out of a strip mall assortment. 
“Hey, you see that store right there? The one with the red sign?” He spoke up, catching Riley’s eager attention in an instant. They placed both hands on the van window to look out. 
“What is it?” They asked, squinting to try and read what was on the sign. 
“You know the snake on my leg?” Riley nodded, quieting down. “That’s where JJ took me to get it.”
They paused, seemingly putting some pieces together in their head.
“How come you only have one?” They asked, still kicking their legs against their seat. “JJ has lots, how come you don’t have lots too?”
Remus chuckled, continuing along the road as the light turned green. 
“‘Cause I don’t need another one. They’re very expensive, you know.”
“Is it ‘cause you’re a wimp?” 
Remus choked on his own spit. 
“N-no,” he choked out, laughing. “No I’m not, I just think it looks better this way.”
He didn’t bother looking into the backseat to see what Riley thought of that answer, but if the return to karaoke that followed was any indication, they were not impressed. Still, he’d probably take the teasing over the screaming, but kids are kids. 
Even as they pulled into their driveway, Remus had to strategically dodge Riley’s flailing limbs in order to un-fasten the seatbelts on their car seat and actually get them in the house. Apparently the music was not as vital to the ‘sing-along’ as he’d hoped it was when he turned the car off. 
“Alright, alright, calm those legs down before you knock my teeth out, will ya’?” Remus teased, placing Riley on his shoulders where they instantly took fistfuls of his hair to hold on. Riley toned down the velocity, but otherwise did not stop. “Careful, squirt, if you wanna’ kick so bad, I’m signing you up to play soccer.”
Riley stopped almost instantaneously, gripping Remus’ hair even tighter as they headed back inside the house, Riley’s tiny backpack slung around Remus’ forearm. 
“Nooo,” they wailed, half punctuated by laughter that echoed through the house. 
“What are we complaining about?” Janus spoke, leaning against the doorway across the room with a fond smile. 
“He said if I kick him in the teeth I have to play soccer,” Riley whined, attempting to climb down from Remus’ shoulders on their own. Janus snorted a laugh before swiftly crossing the room to collect their child and place them on their hip. 
“Wow, your daddy’s so mean,” Janus agreed, raising a challenging eyebrow as they stood in front of their husband. Remus pouted before bending down to steal a kiss.
“Gross,” Riley giggled, pressing a hand on each of their parents’ faces to separate them. 
“Gross?” Janus smirked. “Well in that case, maybe your dad was being a bit unfair.”
Riley turned to Remus to stick out their tongue at him. 
“I mean, soccer? That’s just ridiculous,” Janus continued, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “We’ll obviously have to sign you up for football instead. A punt like that has got to be put to good use.”
Riley immediately went back to their dramatized complaining, this time reaching desperately for Remus to get him to take them back from Janus—to which Remus just held up his hands in mock innocence.
“No can do, kid,” he smirked. “The punishment has to fit the crime, after all.”
Riley continued their attempts to wiggle out of Janus’ unyielding grip.
“Never!” They declared, trying a different approach of reaching over Janus’ shoulder to escape from behind. “I won’t! I won’t do it, I promise!”
Remus and Janus both knew they wouldn’t actively try to hurt either of them, but sometimes it was just more fun to assert rules when it came with shrieking laughter and climbing their parents like a jungle gym.
“Well, now you know where we stand,” Remus spoke in false authority, reaching for one of Riley’s tiny shoes and holding it up to address it as if it were in control of their legs. “I better not see you around these parts again, ya’ hear?” He added in an over-the-top western accent, gesturing to his face. 
Riley squealed with laughter as he held out his hand for a handshake and they shook it with their accused foot. 
“Alright, alright, you two,” Janus intervened with fond exasperation. “Snacks are on the counter, take it or leave it.”
Riley whipped their head around to peer into the kitchen, cheering when they spotted two plates on the kitchen counter, each with a toaster waffle piled high with blueberries. 
“Second…breakfast!” They cheered, drumroll-ing on their leg before whooping and slinking out of Janus’ grip and climbing up onto the kitchen barstools. Remus, giving a fond eye-roll at the enthusiasm, turned to drape his arms over Janus’ shoulders from behind, perching his chin on top of their head. 
“They get it from you, you know,” he mumbled, smirking at the scoff it earned him. 
“Shut up,” Janus grumbled, the smile evident in their voice. “That is all you.”
“Babe, sports are a threat in this house,” he teased. “You’re telling me that came from me?”
“Yeah, I’ll take that one,” they chided, turning around to face their husband. “As long as you’re aware that the energy, the volume—honey, that’s all you.”
Remus quirked his brow with a proud smirk. 
“Or maybe it’s the fact that they sleep for fourteen hours and we haven’t even had eight in the last six years,” he challenged knowingly. “You know, I happen to remember that back in the day…that bed was hardly even for sleeping.”
Janus snorted, their face reddening slightly.
“Is it bad to think of those as the ‘good old days’ already?”
Remus swept a piece of their hair out of their face. 
“Hell no, dude. We lived like kings back then,” he chuckled. “How ‘bout this—I’ll get Ro to take ‘em to the park or something this weekend and I’ll dick you down just like old times, ‘kay?”
Janus sputtered out a cackle, smacking Remus on the chest before covering his mouth with their hand.
“Fucking christ, they’re like two yards away,” they hissed, still laughing. “I am not going to be the one fielding questions about what getting dicked down means, oh my god.”
“You say that like they listen to anything when there’s food in front of them,” Remus countered, nodding in the direction of their kid as Janus rolled their eyes with a chuckle. 
“Now that, is from you,” they grinned, jabbing him in the side with their elbow. 
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re serving up delicacies like toaster waffles,” Remus said, raising his hands in mock defense. 
Janus gave him a look before crossing their arms. 
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I know you can’t go two hours without food. Go on, there’s one for you, even if it’s probably cold by now,” they teased as Remus excitedly kissed their forehead before practically running to the kitchen. He hopped up to sit on the counter, folding each toaster waffle like a blueberry-filled taco before funneling them into his mouth. 
Janus followed close behind—at a normal pace, thank you very much—and took the actual seat next to their kid, sipping at the cup of tea they had left on the counter before the two had returned home as they listened to Riley regaling their day at school.
———
Realistically, Remus probably should’ve seen it coming. He was a couple days past his previous record of days as Riley’s “favorite” and he knew he likely didn’t have much longer before Janus dethroned him again, but he certainly hadn’t expected the scene he walked in on that night. 
He had heard hushed laughter coming from one of their house’s bathrooms that evening, assuming at first that Janus was just handling Riley’s bath or something like that, but as he cleaned up the mess from their dinner and finished washing the rest of their dishes, he was surprised to find they were still in there. So obviously he had to investigate. 
He knocked on the door, rolling his eyes fondly as shushing and giggles came from within. 
“Everything good in there?” He teased, leaning against the door. “I gotta’ say, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get invited to whatever club this is that hangs out in the bathroom.”
More giggles followed by the oh-so familiar sound of Janus’ shushing. 
“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself what all the fuss is about,” he sing-songed, slowly creaking open the door before letting out a snort laugh at the scene before him. 
Janus was seated on the edge of the bathtub, wash cloth in hand, as Riley sat on the sink counter, covered on all limbs with temporary tattoos. At least the pieces of tape that Janus had cut into circles and colored black to look like ear gauges were admittedly cute. 
“Oh, I see how it is,” he smirked from against the doorframe. 
“JJ said you’re a wimp,” Riley proudly announced. “I was right.”
Janus stuck their tongue out and made a spitting noise and…yeah, that was their kid alright. Not that Remus would have it any other way. 
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