#and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

13lov · 6 months

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tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that.

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate.

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you."

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze.

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink.

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill.

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in.

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah.

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

#bts imagine #bts smut #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario #agust d #kim taehyung #13lov

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forbidden-sin-bin · 7 months

Text

Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: ��Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagines #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers smut

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arlestial · 6 months

Note

hi, could i please request nagi, isagi, bachira and chigiri when they forgot a date and accidentally stood up their s/o?

❝Break me like a promise❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Nagi Seishiro, Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : angst

word count : 2000 words

author-note : Hi !! As I said before, I’ve never been aware of my requests in my ask-box so here I am writing them 1 year after they’ve been given 💀 Sorry for the long wait, hope you still like it :) Took me a lot of time to write for my food wars ask so writing for this one was not my priority at first 😭 If you want a part 2, I’ll gladly do it 🫶🏻 I’ll do Chigiri in another post !! take care of yourself ♡

ISAGI YOICHI was, once again, lost in his thoughts. Soccer was keeping him busier than he’d like admit, sometimes leading to ghosting you for one day or two - but it was rare, fortunately for you. He was the sweetest, really. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, calling you at random hours in the night “just to hear your voice”, murmuring sweet nothings with this tired, hoarse, yet, mesmerizing voice of his. And then, no news for 4 or 5 days, if you were lucky enough. Sometimes, you felt like you were too clingy, too lovey-dovey, but he immediately was shushing your words by peppered kisses on your face, between giggles and intertwined fingers. And then, no news for 5 or 7 days, if you were lucky enough. This has been going on for months, and you were slowly - and painfully - becoming tired of it. You decided to confront him, puzzled by his sudden change of behavior. Was it Blue Lock ? Or you ? Why was he so distant ? One night, you took your phone and called him, concerned, fidgeting with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you last time he came home.

“Honey ? Hi. What’s up ?”

“Hi, Yoichi. You busy ?”

“’Need to sleep soon, we have a big training tomorrow. Why ?”

“Am I a burden to you, Yoichi ?”

Isagi frowned on the other side of the phone, looking at the screen, as if he was checking he was calling the right person.

“Wait what- you’re speaking nonsense, are you okay ?”

“I am. Do you still love me ?”

“Obviously. Why are you asking me this ? Did I do something bad ?” His voice broke a little, your heart tightening slightly.

“Yeah- I mean, no. It’s complicated. I feel like you’re avoiding me all the time. You’re here, and right after a call or a text, you’re disappearing, ghosting me afterwards. I legitimately don’t understand. Is it my fault ?”

“N-No, not at all ! Blue lock is just keeping me busy, love. You don’t need to worry.”

You don’t need to worry. You never have to worry with Isagi by your side. However, the time, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. This weird sensation caused you to keep your mouth shut; and it was visibly concerning to the raven-haired boy.

“Love ? You’re still here ?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little bit tired, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about me,”, you nervously chuckled, before murmuring a small “love you” like you always did before ending a call with your lover.

After some time overthinking your entire relationship, you decided to talk to him face to face; meaning you had to head out directly to Blue Lock buildings. The following morning, you woke-up rather early, rushing your usual routine to take a random bus, supposed to drive you to the famous quarters.

You felt the knot in your lower stomach again; sweetly palms grabbing your tote bag to keep it from falling, opening the doors of the building. You gulped as you made your way to the receptionist, asking her if you could see your boyfriend just for some minutes. She refused several times, visibly quite annoyed by your presence. After endless pleas, a woman with sort of chocolate-brown hair appeared, scolding the receptionist for “the lack of respect she showed”. She apologized and introduced herself, Anri Teieri, Jinpachi Ego’s assistant, co-director of the Blue Lock project, as she walked in the large corridors, gesturing you to follow her.

So, you did, eager to see your boyfriend, your steps and Anri's echoing on the bare walls. You finally arrived to the dorms, and Anri knocked on the door, making sure nobody was changing or something. When she was assured that the room was safe, she flashed you a smile and opened the door for you to enter. You immediatly spotted a surprised Isagi, turning his head to look at the person who entered their shared dorm. When you two made eye-contact, a huge smile appeared on his features, and he ran to you, engulfing your form with his strong arms.

"Y/N ?? Gosh, I'm so relieved to see you. I missed you so much." Several shared kisses later, Isagi promised to take you on a date the following day, saying he had Ego's permission to take a break from training. So, as he said, you waited in the restaurant he booked the day prior. Anxiety was beginning to fill your mind as you desperately stared at the front doors, hoping with your entire-being for your boyfriend to show-up. But he never did. After one hour and four pity glances from the waiters, you left, your heart heavy in your chest.

Little did you know, that Isagi was actually playing a training game against professional players. When his teammates had asked him to join them on the field, he had bit his lower lip, letting his thoughts wander between you and the human yet unreachable figures he always admired. With some sort of "fuck it, I'll deal with the consequences later" curse, he let go of his bag and hurried to the changing rooms, not realizing what decision he had just taken. But it was an occasion he couldn’t miss, right ?

And when you saw him on the screen of your phone, more precisely, with the Blue Lock broadcast channel, in his blue jersey, tossing the ball to Nagi, the knot in your stomach disapperead.

Giving way to a boiling anger. And a message on his phone, lying on the bench of the field,

10:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

NAGI SEISHIRO was a bit lazy. It was his personality; you loved him that way, and you weren’t going to plead him to change his lack of motivation for you. But when he refused again to go on a date with you, you had just enough. And sighing was not an option. Your arguments with him were quite rare, because Nagi always found a way to shut you up and apologize sincerely. But this time, it felt like he genuinely wasn’t understanding your point. For the nth time that night, you growled in frustration, your face in your hands. Nagi was lying on the bed, not even bothering to turn off his phone when you were talking to him. He kept humming quiet “mmh”, “yeah”, too busy with his new phone game to actually listen to you.

“Nagi, please ! I’m sick of it,”, you cursed under your breath, fists clenching in order to keep your boiling anger to yourself. You didn’t want to lash everything on him right now. “Can’t you just look at me when I’m talking to you ?”

He frowned; hearing his last name instead of the usual petname for him seemed to get him out of his thoughts.

“What ? I’m listening.”

“You’re not. You’re never listening. That’s the problem with you.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow, clearly not amused by his nonchalant attitude.

“Really now ? Hey, come here. I don’t know why you’re so annoying, I guess it was a long day fo-”

“The hell ?? I’m not- you are the fucking issue here, Nagi. You’re always refusing everything.. I can understand that you’d rather stay at home but at least, can you grant me some quality time ? Grant us some quality time ?”, you sharply said, trying to keep your tone as calm as possible, rubbing your temples. He turned off his phone, giving you a hard glare.

“You knew I wasn’t the romantic type of guy when you decided to date me. You did anyway, so why are you complaining ?”

“Because I don’t want to be constantly the second choice, for fucks sake ! I can deal with your hobbies, with your passions and all. I’m just asking for one moment with you without your phone, or your stupid videogames, or-”

“Okay okay, quit it, I get it. I’m sorry, baby.”, he slowly approached you, gently stroking your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, ‘right ?”

With that, you both fell asleep cuddling. The next morning, you woke up to a cold bed; Seishiro must’ve left early in the morning with Reo to train, you thought. You stretched, used to his absence. But you were glad that he had promised you a date tonight, telling you to wait for him at home. So the day goes by, doing your own activites, a smile on your face as you wandered about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later.

But your smile quickly vanished when you saw Reo’s story on Instagram. Angry tears covering your eyes as you threw your phone on the mattress. You were sending texts to Nagi for 20 minutes now, asking him when was he going to arrive. And you discovered - much to your dismay - that he was hanging out with his Blue Lock friends, sat on a couch of what seemed to be an arcade. Apparently, he was going to enjoy a long night with his friends, considering the story caption, “stayin up all night w homies”.

4 or 5 hours later, Nagi entered your shared appartement with a yawn. He called for you through the kitchen, frowning when he noticed you weren’t answering. He quickly went to the bedroom, searching you everywhere.

And suddenly, it triggered something in him; he forgot. He forgot about you. Again.

BACHIRA MEGURU was clueless. Clumsy. It was the main issue in the relationship; sometimes, he’d act before thinking, or say things he’d regret some time later. It’d lead to arguments, sobs, quivering lips and broken sorry’s, foreheads against each other. As much as Bachira loved you, he was still the bubbly man who often forgot things. Usually, you’d have laughed, his brows furrowed until you gave him his wallet, now smiling and kissing your cheek with a thank you. It was funny, earning a chuckle from you here and there, right ? Until you were the forgotten thing waiting for him. You felt useless, insecurities eating you alive as you cursed them constantly. Looking at the calendar, a red line encircling a somewhat random date, your couple’s anniversary. Well, not so random. You prayed, over and over again, that he would remember about it. Bachira was hard to read when it came to inner feelings : you tried to drop some hints, hoping he’d reciprocate them in a kind of way.

3:21p.m. | y/n ♡ : hi, meg :) ready for tomorrow ?

- read at 3:24p.m.

3:25p.m. | meguru ♡ : hi !! for tomorrow ? wdym ?

- read at 3:26p.m.

3:28p.m. | y/n ♡ : uh

well that’s awkward

Nevermind

- read at 3:29p.m.

3:30p.m. | meguru ♡ : no wait ! Sorry, did I forgot something ?

sunshine I’m sorry :( was it important ?

Your stomach churned at the question. You bit your lip, taking a long breath.

- read at 3:33p.m.

3:34p.m. | y/n ♡ : no it wasn’t don’t worry

just an hair appointment :)

- read at 3:35p.m.

3:36p.m. | meguru ♡ : don’t forget to show me then !! I have a surprise for you too !! <3

- read and liked at 3:39p.m. by y/n ♡

You felt your mood lighting up. He remembered ? Maybe he faked it from the beginning ? You smiled to yourself, now completely delusional; your brain was fully aware of it, but your heart kept hoping naively.

So when he showed up at your door the following day, you dressed up in your favorite clothes, ready to spend a day out with him. He greeted you with a hug, tilting his head to the side when he caressed your hair.

“You changed the color ?”, he questioned, perplexed.

“I canceled.”, you lied, a little too easily for your own taste, “It’d have been a waste of time, we have a lot of things today.”

“Not really, tho. It’s just a regular day, after all ! Isagi told me about a new restaurant he wanted to eat into. Want to join us ?”

“You.. Meguru, you don’t remember ?”

“About what ?”

He hummed; a smile displayed on his face . Yours quickly fade, your heart clenching. Oh. The pain was still here, even though you knew it from the very first start.

“Our anniversary. You don’t remember about our anniversary. Again.”

His smile faded at your words, faded at the sight of your wet cheeks. His mouth opened, trying to form words to express his sudden turmoil. You walked back inside your house, closing the door on a distraught Bachira. He tried to apologize. He really tried. He spammed your phone in calls, drowning you with apologies texts, but could you forget again his clumsiness ? Love is keeping a promise no matter what; and he broke it too many times for you to stay at his side.

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ramp-it-up · 13 days

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II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

-----------------

May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much?

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now?

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance.

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you.

And he wanted to make it up to you.

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier.

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.”

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you.

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear.

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife.

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together.

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him.

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.”

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.”

He kissed your hand again.

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.”

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say.

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke.

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco.

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man.

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go.

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now.

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now.

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you.

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

xii. just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back

javier peña x f!reader | chapter twelve of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: the last chapter (before the epilogue), feel that needs to be a warning. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love ✨ wordcount: 4.2k. (i did try to cut it down but she kept growing)

an: here we are. i have been a mess since finishing the draft of this and i hope it means as much to you, as it does to me. this marks the end of the current timeline for this pair (the epilogue will span snippets from their future, some of which i'd love to expand on later when i'm less emotional).

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi’s day begins like so many others.

Light bleeding into his room, the wind’s whispers pulling him from sleep, gently gesturing for him to wake and be one with them.

It does so in soft yellows and splashes of orange as his curtains puffed up and danced—casting playful shadows over the furniture and the clutter that make up his room.

If he could, he’d rather roll over—abandon responsibility and return to his dreams.

He doesn’t, and never will. A silent promise he’d made to himself when he returned—having opened his eyes to see how much slower his Pop was—to do the heavy lifting.

It’s why he slides his hand across his bedside table, fingers finding the edge of his phone—pinching the bridge of his nose. The soft glow makes his eyes sting as they squint. Usually, there’s nothing new, but he likes to read back on a few of your messages—it helping to start his day right.

Today, though, he finds something already waiting for him.

Morning baby, dreamt of you last night.

He doesn’t mean to, but he closes his eyes.

Allows his hand to glide up over his face. Palm flat, the part where it meets his wrist running over the curve of his nose, before resting lower, hiding the stupid, foolish grin you somehow manage to pull from him. The one you conjure without even being here.

The effect you have on him makes him want to pinch himself. Almost does. Just a little one. A need to check he wasn’t dreaming—wasn’t lost somewhere in the most prolonged fantasy he’s ever experienced.

He knows he isn’t from the way his alarm chirps, turning it off with a slam of his hand—returning his fingers to his face, sliding through the front of his hair. Quickly urging his brain to kick into gear, enough to respond at least.

But, the only conscious thought he has is: What good have you done to even deserve her?

It’s a continuous thought. One which runs on a loop in some distant corner of his brain. It there hiding in the shadows since Houston, since he had the chance to hold you, hear you whisper his name as he made you sing.

The thought had been louder since you’d told him you wanted to come to the ranch. It stands in the forefront, prominent, bold. It’s even made a home for itself at the foot of his bed this morning, holding a sign in the same writing your note to him was in:

Do not fuck this up, Javier.

As if he has any control over it.

Fucking up follows him, gravitates and slams into him. He knows he can count the times and run out of fingers when ‘fucking up’ has messed up his plans. His life. His future. A brief population of them arising in cloudy bubbles behind his eyes—ghostly faces of people he’s failed, the scenes from things he’s done, the hand he’s been dealt by choosing wrong—

Blinking them away, he swallows. Taking a breath, loosening the tightness of his chest. Returning his fingers to the keys, he focuses his attention back to you.

morning baby what you doing awake

In truth, he already knows. Knew before he’d managed to rub the sleep from his eyes with his thumb and index—but he asks all the same.

For the confirmation; the routine of it all. Because, even if it has always been hard for him to keep, he likes that the two of you have that. That you both have fallen into this dance so easily, so normally.

When he’d been in Colombia, invited to dinners with Connie and Steve, he’d wondered how they did it. How they understood one another, moved in fluidity around one another. Spoke the same language, even without spilling any words. His mouth chewing his cheek, hand scraping across his chin—attempting to crack the puzzle in front of him.

Now he has the answer. It simple, more than he thought it could be. That it’s natural, not forced, not something you can make happen or choose.

It’s not even that early. Going over my notes, keep feeling like I’ve missed something.

He snorts because he knows you.

There’s not a thing you’d have missed. Too clever for that, too aware.

Closing his eyes for another second, Javi steals a second of the quiet, until he hears Pop moving around, sparking to life squeaky floorboards and groaning walls.

It's rare that he has the chance to text you over his morning coffee.

The hour is usually not one where he finds you awake. Today, he likes that you are. A feeling swarming through his insides, doubling at the realisation that tomorrow you’ll be here in person.

He’ll get the chance to see you smile—the one that both warms a room and makes him feel like he’s arrived in heaven, all at once. A smile that makes it hard for him not to kiss it, savour the taste of it—feel you muffle out his name against it as you both will him to stop and clutch him closer.

you excited to be reunited with your jacket Mi chaqueta favorita y mi persona favorita. look at you learning quickly It’s easy when your professor promises you things if you do well. what does he promise hermosa Filthy things, Javi. sounds like hes rather inappropriate Oh he is. Asks me what underwear I'm wearing all the time. But he does have a great tongue, so it's worth i.

It’s hard to muffle his laugh.

A sound that he thinks the radio will have to compete with when you’re here, at the table—enjoying toast and coffee.

He’ll be lost in it, even if no one else is. Watching how your laugh shimmers across your face, witnessing the explosion of light that it brings. Like a firework, illuminating everything in its path.

Running his hand over his chin, he bites back a grin. One spawned from knowing he’ll have that in the next few days. You, in his home, laughing. It able to radiate and dance around his things and the things he’s always known.

Javi would have the chance to be able to touch you, pull you close by the legs of the chair, and bury his nose into your hair, smelling the sweetness of your shampoo, as he enjoys the feel of your giggle vibrating through your bones to his—the bass of it making his heart skip in his chest.

Fuck. He misses you.

It crawling up him, having softened him—scraped down and smoother over the hardened edges that the years of corruption and failure had created.

Licking his lips, he’s about to reply when he spots his Pop glancing at him over the top of the newspaper. Brow arched, half his face hidden, but Javi isn’t fucking stupid, he knows he’s grinning at him.

“What?”

“You okay, Javi? You’ve usually started by now?”

“Sí, lo sé. I’m going, Pop. Alright.”

One of the earliest things Javi learnt was that you’re a planner, an organiser.

He was able to witness it in small doses in Houston. Even if you had tried to squirrel it away, hide 85 from him.

He supposed, from the thing you’ve told him, you had to be. Plus, he imagined—like his former profession—it was almost a requirement. A need for a roadmap always there, a backup plan just in case of extremes.

So, for how much planning the two of you (you, mainly) had done the first time, the second time, in comparison, seemed to be chaos. You mumbled dates, times. There was a rough, outlined plan that made even Javi feel unorganised. If anything, it would be better to call it a loose, barely even well-organised idea, never mind a plan.

He had asked—numerous times during your phone calls.

Rather than helping him, your voice crooned down, begging for a clue instead, claiming, "We have days to talk about this, baby", but not many days to "Finish this crossword".

And fuck was he a slave to the way you whined his name when he interrupted the puzzle to ask something about dates, length of stay, and airport pick-up times.

Now, though, days is tomorrow—and Javi hasn’t got a fucking clue what he’s doing.

He’s aware he’s picking you up from somewhere, at an unknown time, with you on an unannounced flight.

But, the stress is mounting, beginning to grow, prickling and wrapping itself around his back.

He supposes the lack of a concrete plan is why it’s so easy for it to come apart. It fraying, all toyed and played with by his fingers and avoided by your own.

Because it was never much to begin with.

In your defence, you couldn’t have banked on Pop finally being able to book in his truck at the stop. The one which hadn’t sounded the same in a while, never mind acted like it—the one very much needing to be fixed if Javi was going to continue to have a good relationship with his father.

It’s why he knew it needed to be done. He just couldn’t wrap his head around why the universe would decide now was the time it would align it to be fixed.

Selfishly, he had wanted to tell his Pop no when he’d interrupted him to tell him. Wanting to say they’d sort it once you’d gone back—because he needed his vehicle.

Because Javi knows the people in this town, and knows how the universe works when it involves him. The truck wouldn’t be in the shop 'just for today'—it would be days. It would bleed out and ruin his plans of showing you all the places he loves in his hometown. His Pop needing to run ‘small errands’—ones that never remained as such when they involved Chucho Peña.

He knows this because if they actually needed something urgently, he’d be the one sent. Just like when he was a kid, and his bike wheels cut through dirt and fields.

But he bit his tongue all the same, placing the keys in his Pop’s hand so he can do what it is he needs to do. His arms crossed over, gripping his biceps' backs as he watches the tow take away the truck.

Knowing deep down, once he had you here, he wouldn’t care if the truck was even in the state, as long as he had you.

“How many errands you runnin’ anyway?”

Adjusting his hat, his Pop gives him that look. The one which tells him he hasn’t got a clue and not to stress. A look he finds he despises more now, post-Colombia, than before. “Don’t worry, mijo. I’ll fill her up for you.”

Except he won’t.

His Pop always forgets something. Usually, the thing most essential. It's why, naturally, Javi had factored it into his new plan, the one he’d been scrambling together when he mucked out the stable.

What he had yet to bank on was that someone above was laughing at each plan he made. His fresh, newly organised one came apart again, before he'd even begun to head back to the stables.

This time, in text form. Your message arriving, punching into the gentle breeze and sunny mid-morning.

Okay, I’m leaving the motel now, wish me more than luck because I need this.

His feet come to a standstill. Dust kicked up, swirling around his calves as he read your message once, twice—

Then, his stomach drops, not just to the floor, but out of his body. Exiting out of him so quickly, he’s sure the rest of his organs have whiplash from it vanishing so quickly.

Heat spreading, sweat building, his body suddenly being consumed by panic—its tendrils sliding around his ribs, pecking at his lungs and heart as he tries to steady his breath.

I thought it was tomorrow No, today, silly. when did you fly in Yesterday, I told you this. The interview is today.

He’s unsure if his fingers have ever typed so fast, sweat beading on his brow—damp on his palms. Because no, you didn’t. Which meant—

“Fuck.”

It rips from his throat and flutters over the field, his eyes squinting, head turned in the direction of his truck—the one being sparked to life. Tyres sounding in the gravel. His feet not quick enough, not enough to outrun a vehicle—

“Fuckin’ fuck.”

youre gonna do amazing baby

I think I’m going to be sick. Which is normal right?

just try to breathe and remember that no one can do this job like you

I think the other people up for it would beg to differ, but I like how you support me.

tonight we’ll be celebrating

How are we planning on doing that?

i think i’ll buy you wine and then i’ll make your toes curl

Have to get the job first, Javi.

you will

And you’d need to know what time I’m arriving since you forgot it was today.

didnt forget baby

You handsome liar. I have to go, so we will resume this after I’ve gone and wowed them.

just be you. its how you wowed me

Javi is panicking.

His hand almost dropped the house phone on the last call, a cramp forming from ringing every place he suspected his Pop would visit.

And, because this was him, none of them had seen him in days—never mind today. They all sweetly asked if he was okay, like he had time to kill—had the time to catch up and hear how their son wanted to be a detective or their daughter was single.

He knew he could have been more polite, could have been nicer to some of them. Imagining your face when he tells you, that soft way you say his name, almost full of judgement and disappointment, but not quite able to embrace it fully.

When he replaces the handset, he swears. Fingers massaging the side of his temple, outwardly silent—but inwardly loudly—ticking, his feet taking him outside before he begins to pace.

Usually, listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees helps.

Today, he's not sure anything can. Thoughts of you standing at the airport, sad, abandoned, feeling forgotten hammer against his skull. His chest tightens at the thought, guilt eating away at his insides as each little sound makes his head lift and his ears turn.

But, Javi isn't able to move when he hears the noticeable sound of wheels in the gravel and dirt. Almost worried he'd made it up, dreamt it, until he hears the horn.

His horn.

Wiping his arm across his forehead, Javi takes strides out of the distance—it takes all of his willpower not to check his phone. Not repeatedly check it, anyway.

Because you’re being quiet. Again.

Have been for the last two and a bit hours.

Admittedly, he’s not sure how long these things take, but the gap between your last message and now has expanded to the point that worry has begun to set in. What if you’re waiting for him? His mind pulls at the doubts he's forced into the darkness. What if you’ve changed your mind? His thoughts attempting to run away from themselves. His fingers and muscles, tendons and bones flexing as he turns the corner of the back of the house.

The stress, panic and worry merge inside of him, all beginning to knot. Clumping. Mashing with the earlier excitement to create a concoction that makes want to vomit.

Mad at himself that he should have known something would happen. His gut instinct off, having been tricked by how lovely the morning was, future days lulling him into a false sense of security.

He should know better. Javi had become well acquainted with things going explosively wrong in Colombia. He’d just hoped he could have spared it from touching you, from tainting what the two of you have.

The dismay flickers down his legs as the soles of his boots crunch loudly against the ground, steps all heavy, weighted. Trying to focus on the usual dread he feels at whatever the fuck his Pop has brought back with him this time. Discount slabs, sacks of tomatoes, new fence pillars—Javi has even seen him come back with more wooden slats to fix something he hadn’t even known was broken. Rather than paying attention to the longing and sadness he’s secretly feeling.

When he turns the final corner of the house, he sees it—his vehicle. His eyes spot the lights cutting out and then that the bed of his vehicle is empty—a thank fuck falling from his lips in a whisper.

Relief barely has a chance to soak in when Javi spots that his Pop isn’t alone. Annoyance flares, shooting through him as his jaw tightens. Until he narrows his eyes, attempts to look closer through the dirt-stained window, seeing what looks like a woman. Their head turned—a side profile that looks—

Swallowing, he blinks.

Must be a trick of the light, he thinks, shaking his head, wiping the sweat, sun and dirt from his eyes.

It has to be a mis-sight. His brain addled from worry, it now making him lose his mind.

Purposefully blinking it away, wincing at the brightness when he hears the noise of a door opening, then another—trying to stop his heart from getting away from itself, hammering and thumping as he watches his Pop step out, hoisting the back of his jeans up as he nods at him.

“Mijo.”

There's a smirk. It scratched into his Pop’s face—yet, his voice is so normal, all forced, a pretence. It not matching the look on his face. The one all mischievous and devious. A devilish smirk outlined by white hair and a twinkle in his eye that Javi cannot remember the last time he’s seen.

It’s why his attention drifts and slides, watching the other person—you—move around the back of the truck.

He’d spot you anywhere.

His body comes to the conclusion, before his brain. His shoulders drop—all of the stress melting—taking worry and annoyance with it. Something hooks in the corner of his lips, dragging them up to his cheek as he watches you glance at his Pop with a smile. That same one he hasn’t stopped picturing, dreaming of—before you land it back on him.

You’re here.

You.

Today.

Your chin dips, but he sees how high your cheeks are on your face as you watch him through your lashes. The two of you move, crossing the ground, cutting through the path to meet somewhere in the middle. Gravel crunching, dirt swirling like smoke at both of your feet.

“Surprise, charmer.”

He snorts, not stopping until his arms wrap around you, colliding with you. It doesn’t hurt. If anything, he realises how much he’s been hurting since he let you get on the plane to begin with. Pieces of him sliding back into place—healing, fixing.

“How?” he asks, whispering it against your face.

Unwrapping his arms, he watches you stare up at him before he glances at his Pop—grin smothered by wiry white all over again, paused at the bottom of the stairs to the house, tipping his hat:

“She made me promise, mijo.”

Shrugging, you wipe your thumb across your bottom lip. “I did. Don’t be mad.”

“Mad?” he asks, cupping your cheek and tilting your head. “I’m not… not even a little bit. I’m just…”

“I know I didn’t get the Houston job.”

His heart breaks a fraction, hand rubbing your arm, hearing the door to the ranch open and close in the distance. “I know, baby. You’ll—“

“But I did get offered the one from today.” Nodding, you smile before your teeth bite down on your bottom lip. “Apparently, I am very impressive—was going to be poached, anyway. Seems my skills are transferable enough to work for imports. A job that, I'm not sure if you know, wouldn't be in Houston. Like I let you believe.”

He feels a frown beginning to appear—attempting to weave itself through the joy already etched into his face. The rest of him trying to catch up, trying to piece together the nuts and bolts, the corners and edge pieces of the puzzle from the statements you’ve drip-fed him since you first told him about it.

“The job, Javi, would be here. At the World Trade Bridge.”

He feels it, the way his face smooths as he processes it. Acknowledges it. A bubble, a flutter of wings, appears in his chest, a new one arriving with every nugget he manages to process.

“He asked me if I fancied relocating—when he offered me the interview. It wasn’t quite Houston, something he apologised for. But, here, in Laredo. I had the interview this morning. If I accept, I’d be here, Javi. in Laredo. Which I know is a lot closer than Houston, so…”

“Baby.”

You press your palm to his chest. “I rang for you—to tell you. I had wanted to keep it to myself initially, just in case. Then, when I was helping Aish pack, she said it would be a nice surprise. Then, the guilt got too much. But I was a bit too excited to see who it was on the phone… and your Dad says hello in the same way, and by the time I’d told you—him—everything, your Dad was offering to pick me up, to bring me here.”

His face softens, a smile widening. Practically engulfing every other thing his face could even show, one that hurts it's so large.

“I can completely understand if you’d rather us keep some miles between us,” you smile. “Thought, though, if you’re as serious about me as I am about you, we could make the decision together.”

His hand cups both cheeks, brushing his thumb over your skin. “I want you.”

“I want you too.”

“Take the job, move here—move in—“

“Your dad already offered that,” you laugh, tipping your head forward, forehead pressing to his chest.

And, it's likely you can hear how his heart is hammering—maybe even feel it through his shirt. All loud and heavy. It doing it all for you.

“And, as lovely as the offer is, I get a nice relocation package—and I think, don’t be upset, that I’d want my own place. Just for a bit.”

Dragging his thumbs across your cheek. He stares into your eyes, aiming to burn the words he’s about to say into them. “How could I be upset when I’d have you here, cariño?”

Your lips slide into your cheek, a shy smile forming. “We could do those dates you talked about? I know I would see you all the time anyway, but I think I’ve been reckless enough lately. I’d like to be a tiny bit sensible, and do the proper dating thing where I cook for you at mine, and you invite me to sleep over at yours. Y'know? Just for a short time.”

“So, are you…”

“I haven’t accepted, not yet. Like I said, I wanted us to make that decision. As a couple. I… I guess I also wanted to check I still wasn’t too much?”

He lets out a breath, fingers sliding further up your cheek.

Unsure how he can even find words enough to explain how not too much you are. But he doesn’t try. Instead, he closes the gap, pressing his nose to yours, hoping his lips tell you instead.

Feeling you grasp at him, pulling him close. Feeling warmth, fire and adoration erupting in his chest when your mouth moves against his, soft, all perfect. Utter fucking bliss. A kiss he's longed for and missed so much, he's sure he's floating.

Only stopping when you pull back, hand sliding round to his chest—grinning, all teeth and sparkling eyes.

“I should go accept, right?”

He kisses you again, shorter, more chaste, but with the same abundance of emotions. “Lemme show you where the phone is.”

“The infamous one?”

His hand rises to take yours, looping his fingers, finding you fall into place beside him—just as easily as the two of you had done in Houston. “The very one. Can show you where I hit my knee that time.”

“Oh, when you almost cried?”

“Ay, cariño. None of that.” His head shakes.

Fuck is it something to hear you laugh. How it leaves your lips, your other hand wrapping around his arm, head burying against him as he tilts his head to watch. Knowing he’s grinning, knowing he’s never been happier.

He’s also pretty sure the entire ranch just began smiling, too.

Since the first time he heard your voice, his dreams have all been so similar.

They are full of white sheets—soft-yellow sun rays dancing in from the outside through his blinds. They’d illuminate the bed, showcasing the outline of a person that he always knew was you.

This morning, Javi woke to find it wasn’t a dream.

You're curled up close to him, thigh over his. His off-white sheets tucked around your body—face bare, stunning and pretty, lashes resting against your cheeks.

“Why’re you watching me sleep?”

Smirking, he traces his hand over your hip, giving you a pinch. “Jus’ admiring.”

“Can you do that at a sensible hour?”

He places a kiss on your nose, feeling your sigh against his skin before your hips move under his palm as you try to get closer. The barest of gaps between the two of you—as there had been since your arrival yesterday.

“For me, this is a sensible hour.”

You groan, deep—almost playful. “Shh, baby. Someone kept me awake late.”

“Some else didn’t seem to mind. I have teeth marks on my hand to prove it.”

He feels you hum, turning your head to look up at him before pressing a soft kiss to his chin. One that makes his throat dry, forces his hand to tighten its hold on you. The usual knot inside him smoothing out, everything in his veins calming. A feeling he had in Houston, which is now humming just as prominent here.

The logistics for your move were glazed over last night, once you’d accepted, once his Pop had handed him a bottle of wine with a wink before 'heading out'. The two of you on the porch, wine in your hand and beer in his head. Tomorrow, Javi? We can plan it all tomorrow. Hand sliding over his. Just want to enjoy being with you right now, especially when we have forever.

Tracing a circle on your hip, he traces his eyes over your face. “I’m so glad you mistyped that number, cariño.”

His words make your eyes open, watching your pupils swallow the colour—seeing how you focus, how your eyes begin to shine, and your smile begins to widen.

Hand rising to his cheek, your fingers delicately strumming his skin. “So glad you were intrigued about my bad date.” Your fingers pause, stopping at the side of his lip. “And that you were bored and lonely.”

Your eyes slide from his eyes to his lips and back again. “I’m even more glad to be yours, baby.”

Groaning, he slides his hand to your thigh, hooking it over his leg. “Say that again.”

“I’m yours.”

His nose slides against yours, lips lazily capturing yours. “Again.”

“Yours,” you whisper, mouth brushing his. “All yours.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Sliding your fingers into his hair, you ghost a smile across his lips. “I am, aren’t I?”

AN: there are so many people to thank, but I'll save that for next week. for now, thank you for reading. for trusting me. for trusting that i was going to give them the ending they deserved. i know we have moments from their future next week, but for now, i love you, i love them, and i love that i had the chance to tell a story i really wanted to tell. this story made me feel like I was a part of the fandom for the first time since I really joined, and I hope you’ll all continue to be as loving and wonderful for the next thing I write.

anon inbox is now open for anyone who wants to scream love (hopefully) but I won't post anything with spoilers until Thursday 7pm BST.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

CUPCAKE | azriel

summary; azriel loves starfall, but you? not so much.

word count; 5465

notes; I have no idea how this got so long, I honestly intended for it to be like 2000 words! but, happy starfall day number two, I hope you all love this one too!

'cupcake' moodboard

The guilt was eating you alive, fingers gripping so tightly around the box in your hands you had to remind yourself to unclench before you squished the sweet treats inside. As you stared up at the house, you realised that maybe this wasn’t so bad.

What was bad, had been the crushed expression on Azriel’s face earlier that morning. That exact expression was what had brought you here, wearing a mix of mesh and sparkles and gauze that wasn’t your typical style, but you’d donned it just for the man whose heart you were sure you’d broken. It was cold, and the rain had only just stopped but there was still dampness hanging in the air. Exactly what you hated.

In fact, you hated everything about Starfall.

But, if there was one thing you hated more, it had been seeing that expression on Azriel’s face. The look like you’d kicked his puppy, like you’d broken up with him, like you’d told him you hated his family. The look that had crushed your heart as he tried to hide it. You’d - misguidedly - assumed Azriel didn’t particularly care for the celebration, all of Velaris had been building in excitement everywhere you looked for weeks, and he hadn't even mentioned it.

Until, this morning, that was.

The sun was starting to heat on your skin, rays a soft caress that woke you up into the morning, and your face tipped back into it, eyes closed. One hand was sitting encased in Azriel’s, his calloused thumb smoothing over your knuckles, the faint press of his kisses still lingering there with every stroke, as his focus sat on the puzzles in the newspaper before him. A basket of cooling croissants sat between you both, chocolate and hazelnut smells drifting around you, your usual shared order tempting you in as you waited for your coffees.

Crockery clinked, a latté being placed down in front of you, vanilla and caramel swirled through it in a way that made your mouth water as your head snapped back down. A happy squeak left you as your eyes closed in on the shortbread sitting on the edge of the plate. Azriel chuckled at your enthusiasm, the sound washing over you in steady waves, far warmer than any sun had ever been.

You’d been so distracted stirring the foam into your latté that you missed the lingering waitress, or Azriel folding his newspaper back up to chat with her.

“So, are you excited about the Starfall party tonight?”

A snort left your lips. You hated Starfall, and you didn’t understand why everybody loved it quite so much. Solstice was so much better. Warm fires, staying cosy inside, cooking and sharing gifts and gathering around with those you loved. Why was Starfall all the rage, when all you did was get cold, probably wet, and definitely drunk?

Your eyes flicked up to Azriel, watching as he sliced open a croissant, a little shocked to find a wide and rare smile on his lips as he nodded. “Always! We, uh, well, we didn’t make plans yet, but I kind of assumed…” Azriel glanced up, cataloguing the shock you were sure was displayed on your face, his brows furrowing a little. “Well, Rhys throws a big party every year, it’s great, I just assumed we’d go to that.”

“Why?” The word tumbled from your lips before you could stop it, the edges of his wide smile flattening, lips flickering at the edges. He smoothed his face back down, nodding politely at the waitress who was dismissing herself quietly. That bright smile that had seemed to light up the whole street dimmed down into his usual impersonal frown, brows pulled tautly. “I mean, that sounds good! I’ve not been to a Starfall party in a long time, so, that works!”

“You- you don’t like Starfall?” His voice was a little lower than before, a tone change that would go undetected if you didn’t know him so well, know the hurt he was masking poorly. He so rarely ever let himself get openly excited about things, and your heart stuttered painfully in your chest as you looked at him. “Me either, really. It’s kinda… loud…”

He had obviously struggled to find something bad at all to say, his love of the holiday obvious, looking down at his food and slathering butter and jam onto it to avoid meeting your eye. “Az, wait-”

“So, what do you want to do tonight? We could stay in together, it’ll probably be pretty busy out and we’ll struggle to get a reservation, but I’ll cook?”

There it was, the stone walls he had worn so effectively for the first few weeks of your relationship when you’d thought he’d felt nothing for you at all, and he’d simply been hiding how deep his feelings were. Reaching across the table, you took one of his hands in both of your own, forcing him to look up as you rubbed lightly at the marred flesh in a way he loved so much. “You clearly love Starfall, Az. You should go to the party tonight, I don’t want you to miss it because of me.”

His fingers flexed a little around yours. “But, we won’t be together.”

“I know, honey, but it’s okay. I don’t particularly care for Starfall, I don’t mind being alone. You do care for it, and you should be with people who love it too.”

He paused, a second longer, before giving a curt nod of his head, the conversation effectively ending. He didn’t say much more, but he lifted his hand, bringing yours with it, to press a series of loving kisses to your knuckles. He wanted you to know he wasn’t mad, or upset, and somehow, that only made it worse.

After kissing you goodbye at breakfast, he’d shot into the skies, frown still sitting on his face, and you hadn't seen him since.

Your hands trembled, and you scowled at your own ridiculousness. You were practically alight with nerves, your heart racing what felt like a thousand beats a minute as you forced legs that felt numb into action. You shook in your pointed heels as made your way up the long and cobbled path of the garden. It wasn’t like one of the messy parties you’d attended when you were young, there was nobody sprawled out across the porch passed out and drunk, nobody vomiting in the bushes or screaming from the open windows as they dangled out. Somehow, the elegance was even more terrifying.

It was obviously a huge party, you could tell even from the outside that the place was packed indoors, scents and voices of hundreds of different people mingling in the air. You were sure you were going to hyperventilate, nothing but the image of Azriel’s dismayed look flashing across your face, the only encouragement you needed to climb the steps, and come to a stop before the door.

You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that nobody would answer, you could already hear the soft melodies of a classical band from inside pouring out, with loud chatter and laughter spilling over the fences from the backyard. With a deep exhale that was a poor substitute for letting go of your fears, you grabbed onto the doorknob, swinging open the front door of the High Lord’s home.

Stepping over the threshold, dry warmth encased you, washing away the damp cool from the garden as you left it behind, and a surprised sigh left you as the goosebumps on your exposed skin settled down. Rows and rows of hooks all piled high with coats were on your left, and you took a moment to breathe, smiling at the occasional stranger who passed you by as you set the box down gently, slipping your cat from your arms and hanging it up when you found a space. Smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric, one hand skating up to play with the pearls around your neck anxiously as the other retrieved the box.

Azriel had bought you this necklace, with matching earrings that swung gently in your ears, surrounded by artful curls from a hairstyle that had taken over an hour to do. Almost as long as it had taken you to do your makeup for the event, just another one of the things you hated about Starfall. Or, thought you hated. When you’d been younger, you’d hated it all, wiping away your makeup and starting again, washing away in the rain as your hair went flat, but this was nothing like that.

Instead, you’d felt nothing but anticipation for the night ahead, excitement at seeing Azriel’s face, whether he’d look at you the way he did when you dressed up for special dates, whether he’d play with your hair and kiss behind your ear just to smell your perfume. Only a few steps in and you came across the first room; inside were a circle of people all sitting around, small children bobbing on knees and toddlers playing with puzzles and games on the carpet. You recognised the High Lady’s sister, a toddler with wild auburn curls and bright brown eyes balanced on her knee, giggling enthusiastically as she blew raspberries onto his cheek, her red-headed mate cuddled up beside her, new-born snoozing against his chest.

A few steps further, and the whole downstairs of the house seemed to open up. Sliding doors between the impressive kitchen and the show-stopping dining room all opened up to make one enormous space, the size of a ballroom, and your throat felt like it was closing up at the mass of people inside. This wasn’t even the main part of the event, behind them all was the back garden, the true heart of the party.

Fire pits and open bars and strings of softly glowing faelights hung from the house and the fences and the trees. It was beautiful, stunning, and the sight of it was enough to steal your breath entirely.

Rows and rows of tables lined with food, enough to feed what seemed like an entire village. Savoury and spicy and sweet, all piled high, and you glanced down at the box in your hands, feeling foolish for bringing it at all. Of course, there would already be an abundance of food here, this party was the one people spoke about all year, the gossip only cooling down in time for chatter about the next one to start up. Rhysand’s Starfall parties were the biggest social event of the year, scoring an invite to one was like being invited to a Royal wedding.

It occurred to you with startling ferocity that this would be the first time you’d meet Azriel’s family. You’d met Mor once, two hundred years ago, both drunk at Rita’s as you queued up for new drinks. She’d been served almost a full half an hour before you had been, of course, but in the free moments it took her to stand and wait, she’d been kind enough to make conversation. You had no idea how, because if you’d been that drunk, you were sure you’d be unconscious.

Your first call, before doubtless embarrassing yourself in front of the Night Court regency, was to get rid of the stupid cupcakes in your hands, before anybody saw them. There was so much food, you were sure that you could just place them down on one of the tables, that they’d blend in, and you’d never have to think of them again. If you could only get to one of the tables through the crowds-

A shadow curled around your elbow, so light you would miss it if you weren’t so used to them, like a lover’s caress between waking and sleep, like featherlight kisses placed along your skin. It curled eagerly around your elbow, wrapping like a dark ribbon around your forearm and down to your fingers.

You couldn't help but smile.

Before the grin had even finished pulling on your lips, your eyes closed in on Azriel like a magnet, the tips of his wings pulled in tight but visible over the crowds, weaving through them all and shouldering past until he was coming to a stop before you. His eyes were wide, cheeks flushed and nose-tip red from the cold outside, hair wind-tussled.

“You- you came?” He took a half-step closer, hands coming up to cup over your own on the box, stopping the nervous trembling you’d been doing as his touch calmed you. His eyes scanned over you, head to toe, twice, and that adoring look you’d hoped for was like a blessing. “Gods, you look so beautiful. What are you doing here?”

Before you could even respond, he dipped down, a soft peck to your painted lips, refusing to smudge the hard work you’d put into them, a longer kiss placed to the edge of your mouth, your cheek, that wide smile you loved so much coming back.

You treasured it, you loved making him smile like that, and you never wanted to be the cause of it disappearing again.

“You care about Starfall, and I care about you.” Freeing one hand from under his, you lifted it, placing it on his face and letting him lean into your touch as you ran a thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more enthusiastic at the time, I was caught off-guard, I had no idea you loved it so much. I swear, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I want you to be-”

A soft noise tumbled from his lips, almost a whimper, and one of his hands matched yours on your face as he tugged you into him. He didn’t care for the lipstick now, kissing your rambling quiet with so much love and passion that your knees went weak, gasping against his lips as he sucked your lower one lightly. He nipped, he pulled, and he licked his way into your mouth until you could taste the spiked punch on his tongue, intoxicating you just as much as him.

His hands were gentle, as they cupped your cheeks, sure not to smudge anymore of your makeup, even though you were sure your lipstick was now going to be a mess. When he finally pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath and staring at him in awe, he wiped a thumb under your lip, clearing up the designs he had ruined so hotly. Red was smeared across his own lips, and he gave a heart-hearted attempt to lick it away, smirking and your giggling as you leaned into him.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I had to make it up to you.”

Your heart jumped a little at the look he offered. “I didn’t mind, my love. I was merely a little… sad, I just wanted to share it with woman I love.”

This time, you were utterly speechless. You’d been taking the emotional element of your relationship slowly with Azriel, having learned the hard way early on how flighty he could be. You’d never spoken that phrase to one another before, and even though you’d known it, even though it had been obvious in every little act he’d ever done and very touch or kiss, hearing him say it was an entirely new rush.

He smiled, obviously sensing your loss for words, that look becoming soft and tender, leaning in until your foreheads were pressing together. “I love you, cupcake.”

An emotionally wet laugh bubbled from your lips as he smirked, squeezing at your hand still holding the box, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your cheeks were just as red as his now, you were sure, and before you could seal the moment with a kiss, someone was clearing their throat beside you.

Magic crackled around you, so strong and thick you felt like it was overwhelming, even as it only explored, never harmed. A second later, the pull back left you cold, stiff in Azriel’s hold as his wings flared out to cover you a little more. His back was straightened, head raising from where it had bowed to meet yours, and his shoulders slumped.

Peering around your love, you found the High Lord, smirking at you both as he rose the sparkling crystal wine glass in his hand to take a sip.

“Rhys…”

“Quite the dash you took there, Az. You almost had me worried.” The High Lord’s eyes now met yours, smirk only widening. Stepping to the side, Azriel seemed resigned that this was happening. You’d know logically that you’d meet them all someday, that the further into your relationship you got with Azriel, the more likely it was that they would one day become your family too, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-rattling. Especially when you felt so unprepared for it all.

Azriel tucked in his wings, and the noise and clammer of the room seemed to all come rushing back in one overwhelming crescendo.

“Well, are you going to introduce me to your lovely friend?” Rhysand offered you a wink, Azriel had told you he was a flirt despite everything, and your cheeks flushed even deeper again.

“Girlfriend.” He corrected with a rough growl that only made the Lord snicker, offering your name to follow, before turning to you with a sigh. “My love, this is my wonderfully ill-timed brother, Rhysand.”

Switching his glass to the other, Rhysand extended his hand to you, and as soon as your fingers had slipped over his own, he was raising your hand to his lips. Pressing a kiss to your fingers softly, Azriel only rolled his eyes, and Rhysand’s cheeky expression grew. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. It’s about time Az found somebody to make him this happy. You should have seen his face when he realised you were here, it was like-”

“Alright, that's enough of that.” Azriel reached out, smacking at the back of Rhysand’s hand, pulling your arm back protectively and spreading one wing out behind you, curling you closer to him. There was no real threat, you all knew this, but it didn’t stop Rhysand from laughing as Azriel got possessive once again.

You were nervous, terribly so, as all attention moved to you, and so without a single thought, you thrust the box in your hands outwards towards him. “I brought you cupcakes… not that you needed them, of course, but…” You waved an idle hand, cringing internally and hoping the grimace wasn’t displayed clearly across your face. Was it possible you’d be so bad at this Azriel might actually break up with you?

“You brought us cupcakes?” Rhysand looked genuinely surprised, touched perhaps, and he discarded his wine glass down to the tray of a waiter passing by, before looking between you and the box.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Oh,” His hand waved in the air, head shaking enough that a strand of well-styled hair fell across his forehead. “Please, anyone who can make Az light up the way he did deserves to call me Rhys, never mind Rhysand.”

From the stagnant pause, followed by warm chuckles from both the High Lord and your boyfriend, you were sure they could sense your apprehension and shock. Azriel’s lips brushed a warm kiss to your temple, reassuring even as you were sure your heart might explode it was beating so harshly, his hand settling on your lower back, and you only hoped you weren’t sweating through your dress.

“Alright, maybe we’ll work up to Rhys, Rhysand will do fine for now.” A tight nod was all you could summon in reply. Azriel’s hand was rubbing up and down your spine supportively, the only thing grounding you at this moment, and it stuttered in hit’s movements only temporarily, before he was groaning, head rolling back in exasperation.

“Oh, Rhys, really?”

“What?” Your sight flickered between the two, from Az’s scowl to Rhysand’s smirk, your nerves firing up once again, when they’d only just settled.

Ducking his head, the tip of his nose dragged over your cheek, lips positioning by your ear to speak in a murmur even over the crowds, “Just know that I’m sorry for what is about to-”

“I heard there were cupcakes!”

The booming voice you recognised as the general’s was so deep and loud it rattled some of the glasses around you, coming into sight not even a second later. Clinging to his arm was Nesta, someone you had met before too, only a brief conversation in a bookstore a few months ago, but you weren’t sure whether she recognised you. Her eyes flashed with something, lips curling a little at the edges in greeting, and Cassian’s arm sat heavily around her waist to keep her upright on shockingly tall heels. Upon seeing the box in your hands, she seemed to perk up even more.

Following quickly behind her was the High Lady, the heir to the court balanced on her hip as he poked and pulled at the braid her hair had been woven into, Morrigan following closely behind. Trains of silk and glittering fabric encompassed them all, and before even a sliver of insecurity could battle its way in, Azriel pressed another comforting kiss to your head, your temple, your cheek.

A high-pitched squeal left the youngest of the group, now all inspecting you curiously, little hands clapping together as his mother’s braid was no longer of interest, staring excitedly at the box. He was squirming, aiming for the floor, and Feyre placed the toddler down before he could launch himself from her arms, staring up now at the bundle you held.

“I want one! I want one!”

“Well, I don’t think anybody will be very inclined to give treats to little boys who don’t ask nicely.” Rhysand’s chastisement was taken into account, the boy’s mouth forming a frown you just knew he learnt from Az, as he glanced between his father and the cupcakes. He grabbed at his father’s much larger hand, mumbling an apology, before turning back to you. Instead of his attention on the sugary treats, though, his focus was on you.

“Please, miss…”

“(Y/n).” Rhysand supplied.

“Please, miss (y/n), can I have a cupcake?” Crouching down to Nyx’s level, Azriel’s touch left you, and the boy was all but bouncing on his feet as you came down to his level. His eyes were wide, the same shade of eyes as his father but freckles like his mother, and it felt so much easier down here at his level. An easy smile pulled on your lips, box balanced on your knees as you opened the box. “Can I please have the purple one?”

“Of course, you can. That one is just for you, anyway.”

“Really?” His excitement came out as another squeal, reaching in to scoop it up with both hands and managing to already smear icing across his palm, which he promptly licked off in one clean scoop. He retreated back towards his father with his prize, seeking help with peeling the wrapper, and you were forced to stand up and join the adults once again.

As soon as you were stood, though, two scarred fingers were dipping into the box and retrieving the cupcake decorated with blue icing and sprinkles, a gasp falling from your lips. “Hey! They weren’t for you!”

Az only smirked, one thick brow raising. “If it’s not for me, why’s it in my blue, hm?”

“You don’t own the colour blue.” Your eyes narrowed playfully, and this was what you were used to. Banter, laughter, teasing, easy and fun. His wings curled even more around you, sheltering you from the world in the way you loved so much, until you were curled closer to his side, the warmth of his body a cosy heat.

“If I don’t own it, why does it look so damn good on me, huh?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You mean adorable.” He muttered, and Feyre’s hand smoothing along your forearm lightly enough to make you jump as you were reminded you weren’t alone.

“No, she definitely means insufferable.” Azriel only scoffed, but she didn’t even glance at him. “I’m Feyre, it’s lovely to meet you. Whatever you put in that cupcake, you’re gonna’ have to tell me, he hates my baking.” Glancing down, her gaze was cast fondly on her son, who had purple icing smeared across one cheek, refusing to let his dad wipe it away, devouring the cupcake that looked gigantic in his little hands.

“You should try one and see.” Offering the box to her, her gaze sparkled as she plucked a white one out from inside. She peeled the edge, taking an enthusiastic bite and licking away icing from her lip, eyes widening as she chewed.

“You made these?” She covered her mouth to hide the crumbs, but it was all so informal that you felt yourself starting to relax more and more, the kind look in her eyes soothing your frazzled nerves. “They’re so good.”

“Then, move, Fey, and let the rest of us try one.” Cassian nudged her aside with his elbow, Rhysand reaching out behind his wife to smack him across the arm, but you were sure with Cassian’s build it was like a fly landing on his shoulder. He grinned, cheeky and fearless and cunning, eyes flicking up to Azriel. “I’m Cassian, this drunk lady is Nesta.”

“I’m tipsy at most.” She argued, hiccuping toward the end of her sentence, and Cassian smiled down at her. Plucking out a red cupcake for himself after handing a silver one to Nesta, who looked like she had never seen anything more appealing in her life as she stared. Swooping in behind them was the last member of the group.

“I’m Mor. We’ve met before, I don’t know where, but I recognise your face.”

“At the bookstore!” Nesta’s voice was a little too high for average speaking volume, and yet Cassian’s soft chuckle was somehow louder. “You met her at the bookstore.”

“No, that’s how you met her, Nes. Mor can barely even read, she wouldn't be-” Mor pinched him, hard, and Cassian yelped through his laughter as he flinched away. You longed to be a part of it, fear melting into longing as you watched them all interact.

“I’ll figure out where I know you from.” She bit down on her lips, gaze raking over you. “Shame that Az met you first, this dress is stunning, I think you’ve got everyone’s attention tonight.” With a wink, she plucked up the black cupcake just as Rhysand moved in for it, laughing in victory as he stared at the baby-pink cupcake that was left.

He also took the box, the item disappearing quickly from his hold with barely a drop of his power, and you weren’t sure now what to do with your hands. Azriel made that decision for you, lacing your fingers together, and you gripped his hand with both of yours.

“So, you’re Az’s new girlfriend, huh? I’ve been bugging him for ages to meet you.” Cassian scrunched up the wrapper of his cupcake.

“You knew?” Rhys’ eyes were wide, a speck of glitter on the corner of his mouth from the icing making him seem far less terrifying than he had five minutes ago, and you bit back your grin on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s a little weak that you didn’t know, since you’re the daemati, Rhysand.” Cassian only tutted, Nesta encouraging his bad behaviour by laughing through her mouthful. You liked her, you thought perhaps the two of you could be good friends, one day. “You didn’t notice that stupid, dumb-in-love look on his face? I mean, look at him.”

You were grinning, amused by the dynamic shared between the group, and all attention moved to Azriel as Cassian called him out. You glanced up at him too, smile melting away as you found his gaze already on you. So full of love and affection, lips pulled up at the sides just enough for you to see, your heart jumping in one hard beat, just for him. He shifted, dipping down to press a soft, lingering peck to your lips. The tip of his nose dragged over your cheek as he retracted, dipping away to turn his head to hide in your hair, refusing none of the claims Cassian made, but instead, confirming them.

So much open affection, even in front of his family, and you remembered just how long it took for him to grow comfortable to this effect. Your gaze moved back to flicker over the other members of the group as he nuzzled into your hair. Feyre was tucked into Rhysand’s side, Nyx hugging her legs and begging for ‘up!’, as Nesta and Cassian stared at one another, mumbling quietly as Cassian bargained for a bite of her cupcake. Mor only smiled at you both, hands elapsed under her chin.

“Right, c’mon. We all want to get to know her, but let’s give them a minute of peace.” Mor waved her hands at them all, like corralling cattle as various complaints rose up that drew a laugh from your lips.

“Oh, cut it out, you lot can be a terrifying bunch at first.” Feyre agreed, tugging Rhys along as he protested, and Nesta let out a holler of what seemed to be approval. Soon, they were gone, disappearing back into the crowds that closed up around you, and you were left only with Azriel. He dipped down, peppering kisses along your jaw as your head tipped back, a kiss to your neck, just below your ear, before rubbing his nose into the spot that you’d sprayed your perfume on.

Predictable.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“So am I.” You meant the words, not a hint of a lie in them, and despite all your anxiety and previous thoughts, you couldn't deny that it felt so good to be immersed in such a family. He gave one final kiss to your shoulder, before he was standing back to his full height, blinking at the sudden burst of light as he came back up from being buried in your neck.

“Wanna’ share?” Azriel held up his other hand, the cupcake still held tightly within it, and he peeled it open before tearing it in half. Holding up a piece of it for you, he took a bite out of his own, the two of you sharing in harmonious quiet as you took a few minutes to soak in all the grandeur. It was a magnificent party, you understood now what everyone had been talking about.

As you took the final bite, before you could lick the buttercream from your lip, Azriel dipped down, kissing it away sweetly, and turning you to face him properly.

“You wanna’ head home? We could still pick up some food on the way, and-”

“Are you kidding? We’re staying, the stars didn’t even start to fall yet!” His mouth closed, opening once again, and closing. He only nodded, lips pressed tightly together to hide the extent of his grin. Looping your arms around his neck, his own circled your waist, hauling you up more firmly into his chest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive before, but I’m here now, and I’m having a great time. I want to get to know your family more, and I want to support everything that you do.”

“They’re going to want to get to know you more. Prepare for intensive grilling. Mor will ask you about our sex life.”

“Should I tell her about the time we-” His lips closed over your own, tongue sneaking into your mouth to pull a moan from you, effectively scattering any thoughts you’d had about teasing him, exposing him, or both. You hated that it worked so well. Your lips meshed together, the sickly-sweet icing and the spicy tastes of liquor, the other tastes that were so uniquely him, and you shuddered a little at the suggestive shadow that skittered along your inner thigh lightly, having snuck up under your dress.

“Tell them nothing, or we’ll never live it down.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be able to talk at all when you’re working me up like this.” You mumbled, his lips leaving wet marks along your jaw, hand slipping down to cup your ass as it was sheltered from view by his wing. “Tease.”

He laughed, your noses bumping together as his forehead came back to rest on your own, and his hand slipped back up to safer territory, squeezing your hip as his other one did.

“Az?”

“Yeah, cupcake?”

“You know I love you too, right?” He smiled then, only nodding his head, eyes slipping closed as you swayed together gently to the music.

“I know. Just like I love you.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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flwoie · 6 months

Text

꒰ TEASER ꒱ WHY I LOVE YOU — WANG YIXIANG

─────── ❛ I USED TO BE A COLD GUY BUT NOW I WORRY ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME ❜

IN WHICH YOU AND NICHOLAS ARE THE ROMCOMEDIC RELIEF SIDE CHARACTERS IN A SITCOM

SUMMARY. New school year means new people. Lucky for you, you befriended a new girl who moved here from the other side of the world. What you didn't expect was that she happened to befriend your old friend group from junior high—accidentally reviving it. Not only did your friend group come back, but you pining on Nicholas did, who just happens to be a part of that group of friends.

STARRING. friend! nicholas x f! reader

GENRE. romcom, friends to idiots to lovers, very very SMALL angst, 2000s disney sitcom au, highschool au, mutual pining, hates everyone but you trope, inspo by svt’s mansae, set in 2000s japan, more will be stated in full fic

CONTAINS. 14+, profanities, nicholas is a truant, a smoker and he’s kinda a hypocrite in the full fic, more will be stated in full fic

TEASER WORD COUNT. 361 | EST. WORD COUNT 5k-10k

SONA SPEAKING. hi guys don’t mind me just posting this cause it’s clogging up my drafts 🥸

S1, EP2, SCENE 15 — ❝THE STARS THAT LEAD US THROUGH THE DARKEST MOMENTS OF LIFE ARE OUR FRIENDS❞

As you pushed the button on the ATM, you waited until it dispensed five ¥1,000 banknotes. You just came back from the flower arrangement club, and it being two hours was a waste of time as they were differentiating types of flowers, which wore you out and left you starving. Luckily, there was a food stand a few blocks away, so you quickly made an errand to the bank to withdraw a few bills. You grabbed the banknotes and left the bank, heading to where the food stand was.

After what seemed like half an hour of walking and attempting to find the food stand, you finally found it, a few meters away from you. You can already smell the warm seafood, making you more famished. Going up to the vendor, he greets you as you look at the choices.

“Just one tempura skewer, please!” The vendor grabs a skewer and hands it to you. Before you could give him the money, someone had already beat you to it.

“Make those two, please,” he requests as the vendor takes it from him. Looking up, Nicholas beams as you two walk away from the stand, heading to a bench.

"Thanks; you didn’t have to pay for me, though,” you assured me as you sat down. You notice the small bouquet he placed on the floor. “What’s with the flowers?” you ask.

“Oh, that? They were for my date, but she ditched me for some other guy,” he says.

You scoffed, “Her loss, you deserve someone willing to spend time with you."

He grins at your words, looking down at his skewer, and mutters a ‘thanks’ before he asks, “What are you doing out here?”

“Flower arrangement club. It was so boring that I got hungry,” you say, proceeding to bite into a tempura.

“Shit, that was today?”

“You’re in the club?” He nods. “That’s funny; I thought you were the type to join a sports club.”

“Hey, I think arranging flowers is a therapeutic hobby!” he deflected. You chuckle and notice that he hasn’t taken a bite of his food.

“Sure it is—now eat what you paid for,” you added, reminding him.

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ynbabe · 6 months

Text

Male! Reader x Batfam- P.t 1

Just silly lil incorrect quotes based on a WIP

Y/N after being forced to babysit the Wayne's, to Dick: You're my husband.

Dick, smirking at the others: Yeah I am.

Y/N, to Damian: You're my child.

Damian, begrudgingly: Yes.

Y/N, to Jason: You're my bitch.

Jason: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Y/N, to Steph, Cass and Duke: My besties.

The trio: Naturally.

Y/N, to Tim: HA, GAY!

Tim 'totally doesn't have a crush' Drake: Fuck you.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick, thought he was the babysitter: What’s the point of all of this?

Bruce: I need to go off-planet and also revenge for the Batmobile.

Jason, who stole it for a joyride: The best revenge is FORGIVENESS.

Tim, pointing to Y/n sipping a margarita at 7 in the morning with sparkly pink sunglasses: Well, there’s no chance of that.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick with Y/n at a PTM with all his other siblings: That kid shouldn't be allowed to treat Tim that way.

Y/n: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Dick: Yeah, let’s give him a piece of our minds--

Y/n: Let’s stab him!!!!!

Dick:

Y/n: Damian, get a knife real quick.

Dick: NO-

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Bruce, at his old age of 52: You're a lying piece of shit!

Y/n, 29 but technically 2000 years old: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Y/n: I'm leaving and I'm taking Dick with me!

Y/N: AND THE KIDS

Alfred, used to Bruce and his Immortal friends bs, gathering cards: And that's quite enough Monopoly for today.

Dick, being tugged by both Bruce and Y/n: I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE! ALFIE, HELP!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, getting the tour to babysit: Man, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them?

Bruce, watching Dick screaming, Damian trying to set a sleeping Jason on fire, and Steph choking on air: I don't know either.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: The floor is lava!

Dick: *helps Y/N onto the counter*

Jason and Damian: *pushing each other off the sofa*

Tim: *lays on the floor*

Y/n: ...Are you okay?

Tim: No.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Goon 1, talking about Redhood: I heard he's horrible.

Goon 2: Yeah, dude probably has an iceberg for a heart.

*Meanwhile, in the Cave*

Y/N: Hold still!

Jason: I had an itch!

Y/N, putting stickers on Jason's mask: I don't care, you're going to mess me up.

Jason: *Rolls his eyes but lets Y/N continue while he's smiling behind his mask.*

Y/N, margarita in hand: *Puts a gold star on Jason's redhood helmet* there. Perfect, just like you.

Jason, tearing up: Thank you.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: BE A BETTER PERSON!

Dick: WHY?!

Y/n: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

*Dick and Y/n on a mission*

Dick, snickering to himself: Y/n needs help. Guess I have to get to the top myself

Y/n, without thinking: You’re incapable of topping anything you’re a fucking bottom

Dick: *immediately trips over nothing*

Tim, on comms support: … guys?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Steph: I love this new strawberry-flavoured shampoo I got!

Y/n: Flavored?

Steph: Scented! I mean scented.

Steph: But yeah, it tastes like strawberries too!

Y/n, calling poison control: No you did not! STEPH!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

[Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke and Damian doing something dangerous]

Y/n [judging while drinking a margarita] Look at those morons. Where are their parents?

Y/n: ...

Y/n: Oh shit! I'm their parent!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, about his crush on Kon: I need life advice

Y/n, sipping a Margarita and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person

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ladamedusoif · 2 months

Text

Long Distance - Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2000

Warnings: SMUT; Established relationship; Reader lives in Europe; No physical description of Reader; Older!Marcus; Marcus with a PhD; FaceTime sex; masturbation (F and M); oral sex (F receiving); unprotected but safe PiV sex; dirty talk; come (cum) play

Summary: Happily settled with you on the other side of the Atlantic and now working primarily in consultancy, Dr Marcus Pike sometimes finds himself travelling back to the US for work. But there’s always video calling, right?

A/N: I got...carried away. Ahem. I'm not really using taglists any more so follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications. Thank you @agentjackdaniels for previewing this smutty little story.

You never really sleep easy when he’s not here. Strange, after all those years on your own, comfortably splayed out across your large mattress. A year of sharing a bed with Marcus, though, and you feel unsettled without him.

The display on your sunrise alarm clock reads 1.30am when your phone lights up with a message.

You still awake? x

Your fingertips tap out a swift response.

Very much so. x

You settle yourself and your phone as the call comes through. A moment of connection, and there he is: Marcus. Your Marcus, looking so very distinguished with his wavy, silver-streaked hair, warm eyes, and mischievous, boyish smile. He breaks into a wide grin as you appear on the screen.

“There you are, baby.”

"Here I am, love. How are you doing?” You cast a glimpse over the schlubby old FBI t-shirt he sometimes wears lounging around the house. “Are you in bed already?”

Marcus groans and rolls his eyes. “Yup, pretty much. I’m so tired, the clients all want to start at the crack of dawn. Why are they all so obsessed with breakfast meetings here?”

You chuckle. “Sweet man, you’ve become Europeanised.”

"I mean, you do have the better coffee.” He props himself up, resting his chin on his hand. “I miss you so fucking much. It’s only been three days and I’m going crazy.”

"I miss you, too. But what is it - tonight, and then two more nights? And then you’re all mine again.”

Marcus’s chocolate-brown eyes soften as he smiles softly, taking you in. “God, I can’t wait. Fuck, you look so good. Is that the, uh… that nightdress?”

You preen a little for the camera, innocently moving your body ever so slightly. You’re confident that he’s now got an even clearer picture of your tits, nestled in the burgundy lace of your - and his - favourite strappy chemise.

“This old thing?”

He shakes his head and bites his lower lip, grinning. “You are a tease. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

"And what am I doing, Dr Pike? Use all that agent training, tell me. Decipher me.”

He licks his lips. “You’re showing off your beautiful tits, knowing perfectly well I can’t stand not being able to touch them right now.”

You keep eye contact but trail a finger along the soft line of your cleavage, slipping it under the lace to flick gently over your nipple. All the way across the Atlantic, Marcus groans on his DC hotel room bed.

"Oh, I see. You liked that, hmmm?”

He nods. “You know I liked it, baby. Fuck, you are gorgeous, you know? Just…perfect.”

You notice his right arm moving a little, working at something off-screen.

“Are you hard, darling? Are you touching your cock?”

"Mmmm. Yeah, just - just through my shorts.” His gaze flits from your tits to your eyes and back, his breath a little laboured. “You turn me on so much, feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Will you jerk off for me, Marcus? Let me see how hard I make you. Please.” With a flutter of your eyelids you slip down the spaghetti straps of your chemise to reveal your breasts, nipples hard and soft flesh spilling over the lace cups.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Yes. Hold on -“ He reaches for his phone and angles it just so, so you can see him tugging down the dark grey sweat shorts and his hard, thick cock springing free against his tummy. He wraps his right hand around it, gently pulling back the foreskin to reveal the head already weeping with pre-come.

Now it’s your turn to whine as your pussy clenches around nothing, reacting to the sight of his cock ready and waiting and so far away. Marcus grins as he continues to stroke himself.

"Think you need to play with your pussy, too.”

You nod and slip a hand between your legs, gathering some of your growing wetness and displaying it to him on your fingers. “See how much I miss you, love?”

He speeds up a little, fucking into his fist and never taking his eyes off you. “Fuck, I wish my mouth was on that pretty little cunt of yours. Wish I was eating you out right now, baby.”

"And I wish I had your gorgeous, hard cock in my mouth, darling.” You start to rub harder, insistent circles over your swollen clit and moan as you listen to the sound of your boyfriend jerking off.

He moans and closes his eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me, what would you do?”

“I’d use my tongue - lick the shaft, first, the way you like it.” The sound of your wetness is lewd and arousing. “Then - oh, fuck - take you into my mouth, suck the head, stroke you with my hand…”

Marcus pauses to spit into his hand, a poor substitute for the lubrication offered by your slick. “Keep going. Keep fucking going, love.”

“Fuck, I wish I had that gorgeous cock inside me.” You slip a finger inside your pussy and whine at the sensation as you press on the sensitive spot he knows exactly how to work. “M’finger is nothing, need you.”

Marcus pants as he continues to stroke his cock, and pulls up his t-shirt to expose his belly. He’s getting close. “Wish I was fucking you, too. Feeling - oh, fuck - all of you on my cock, pulling out and…” He screws up his face and groans and your cunt aches for him. “Fuck, I want to come on your tits.”

Your free hand finds your breast as you continue to rut against your hand, fingers pinching the nipple and massaging the flesh. It’s your Marcus. He deserves a show, and you’re only too happy to deliver. He grunts and groans, never taking his eyes off you.

“I’m really close, Marcus.” Your hips buck upward as you near your peak. “I’m gonna come for you - fuck, gonna -“

He strokes himself furiously, desperately, as he watches you reach orgasm - and talks you through it.

"Jesus, look at you. Coming on your own hand - oh, fuck - getting yourself off for me. Good girl. Good - fuck, gonna come - fucking good girl.”

He comes hard, angling his cock so that the white, viscous come hits his bare tummy. Your cunt still aches for him.

“I wish I was there to clean you up, Marcus.”

He chuckles and lies back on the pillows, curls damp with sweat and a huge smile on his face. He grabs his phone so you can see him. “Right back at you. Bet you’re so wet now, huh?”

“Soaked.”

“Fuck. Hope you’re ready for when I come home, baby.”

In the early morning, your sleeping form rests peacefully in your large bed, an arm cuddling a pillow to your torso for comfort. When you’d set your alarm the night before, you reminded yourself that you just had two more nights before he was home again.

Two more nights. Two more sleeps. And then: him. Him. Only him.

A shifting weight on the mattress stirs you, still halfway between waking and slumber. In the hazy half-light, you turn your head and find a beautiful, familiar sight.

“Hi, baby.”

“M-Marcus? What are you - did I get my dates wrong? I thought you were back tomorrow…”

“I was supposed to be,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “and I took an earlier flight because I just missed you so much. Hey - is that my shirt?”

You nod, turning your body wholly towards him and nuzzling against him. “It is. Your Georgetown T-shirt, I just - it feels like you.” He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “Marcus - what about the work?”

He hums happily. “The clients were happy, and there isn’t much more to do that I can’t do from here.”

He moves his lips to your neck, softly nipping and licking the delicate skin as his big hands work their way under the T-shirt and up to your breasts.

“I have been thinking about this the whole way home.”

You giggle. “Oh really? And you were able to keep yourself under control?”

Marcus kisses you on the mouth as he nods, fingers kneading your tits. “My self-discipline was tested, I admit, but oh, fuck, baby…”

Your hands are on his crotch, feeling the growing hardness under the grey sweatpants he likes to wear on long-distance flights. You lean into his ear as you tug down the sweats and his boxers, taking his cock in your hand.

“Why don’t you see if I’m still wet from the other night?”

With a groan, Marcus slips his hand between your legs and finds the wetness already pooling at your core. “Pretty fucking wet, baby.” He sucks his fingers clean of your slick before shucking off his sweatshirt and tee.

“Good.” You sit up and quickly straddle him, his thighs between yours as you peel off the old T-shirt so you’re completely bare for him. “I’m going to make you feel so good, darling man.”

You gather some of your own slick across your palm and fingers before taking his cock in your hand, stroking the velvet skin of the shaft and gently bringing your palm over the head in a fluid motion that you know drives him wild. Marcus watches your hands as you pleasure him, little animalistic noises issuing forth from his beautiful mouth as he grows ever harder under your practiced touch.

“Do you want me?”

He nods furiously and you lift yourself up to shift forward, notching the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Tell me, Marcus.”

"Need you so fucking bad, baby. Please.”

You take him inside you in one stroke, your wetness easing his thick cock into the tightness of your pussy. Marcus cries out as you begin to ride him, hands pressed into his broad chest.

“Better than the phone sex, huh?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you hiss, hips rolling in a well-established rhythm as you fuck him. “Liked watching you jerk off to me, though.”

"Me too, baby.” Marcus grips your hips and grins as he admires you: your body, your curves, the way you’re letting yourself go as you ride his cock. You bite your lip and roll back your head, lost in the sensation of how your man stretches and fills you so perfectly.

When you slip a finger against your clit, he practically growls, meeting your rhythm as he starts to fuck up into you.

“‘M not gonna last, baby,” he pants, fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips and ass.

“You want to come on my tits, like you said?”

His desperate nod is your cue to lift yourself off his cock, glistening with your slick and his pre-come, and shuffle down the bed a little. You press your breasts together as Marcus wraps his broad hand around his cock and pumps it quickly.

“Fuck, your tits are pretty. So fucking soft and perfect and -“

He stutters and cries out as he comes, his release hitting your breasts and gathering on the hard peaks of your nipples.

You gather some of it up on your finger and suck it clean.

“Jesus, baby. That’s so fucking hot.”

You release your finger with a pop. “Thank you, love. Can you get me a cloth?”

He wanders off and returns with a washcloth, gently cleaning your body and his cock before returning it to the bathroom. By the time he gets back, you’re tucked under the covers again. He grins as he joins you, pulling your naked body to his.

“Missed you.” You wind an errant, silver-streaked curl around your finger. “It feels like there’s something missing when you’re not here.”

Marcus kisses your forehead and you nuzzle up against his chest. “Don’t I know it? I felt exactly the same in DC, wondering where you were. Missed going to sleep beside you, waking up with you.”

You chuckle against the warm, sweat-damp skin of his chest, pressing your lips to the freckles dusted across his golden body. “And fucking me.”

He laughs, and the sound makes your heart soar. “That, too. But trust me - I’ll make it up to you.”

"Oh you will, huh?”

His coffee-brown eyes are as sincere and honest as ever. “Always and forever. Even with jet lag.”

dividers by @cafekitsune

#long distance fic #ladameecrit #la dame writes #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

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danaredbeard · 30 days

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Perfect ending to a perfect season 10/10

This was not “rushed” they just did not lionize and platform yet another sociopathic looser nitwit with fascist intentions.

Just imagine, he gave that same pathetic speech to over 2000 people and without hesitation they kissed the sword. Although, he says he never gave it to someone like Rick, an “A”.

The difference is that others saw themselves becoming elite and Rick saw that killing others for them to survive was unsustainable.

So here is how I am understanding the situation, it isn’t Beale the person who is the Big Baddie Villain but the “Left behinds” and there are plenty. This will have to be a personal choice not blamed on an institution.

I have been squealing about these shadows since season 6. My recent post a few days ago on Reddit got flagged and shadow banned. I swear Reddit single handedly dumb downs this fandom because the mods aren’t too bright. It’s been years since I’ve been on Tumblr but it allows independent thought ans there are no tthought police like on Reddit. This is why they are all so shocked that the “allowed” theory on Reddit didn’t happen. I would love to make videos but I am afraid that is not in my ministry… so Tumblr and Canva will have to do.

I can tell you with 98.96% accuracy who is CRM more detailed posts coming… if there is season 2, otherwise I won’t waste my time):

Negan - The entire setup of the Sanctuary was a mini version of CR Philly. There was even a nod to the Sanctuary in this episode, Jadis room number 613 or season 6 episode 13 “Same Boat” the one where Maggie and Carol are captured by the Saviors and shows the inner workings of the Sanctuary and Negan. He also saw the helicopter with Jadis and said nothing.

Deanna and Aaron - Rick was right about Aaron, he was up to no good but changed his mind when the family saved his boyfriend. He talked Deanna into keeping them all in return for teaching them how to survive.

Jesus - He was on his way to recover the CRM truck of supplies but Rick and Daryl got to it first. But I think he was already hesitating when attacking the satellite station he made sure not to be seen. I thought it was because he did not want Hilltop implicated by now I think it was CRM. Also interesting that he was the first to be killed by the Whisperers.

Tara - she never explained Heath’s disappearance

Enid - evacuated herself before the herd was set on Alexandria always going off by herself

Jesse and her whole family. Her son stamped a letter A on Rick

Can’t say about the Commonwealth cuz I haven’t watched it. Stopped after they branded a pregnant Michonne.

The Whisperers I mean “A”lpha and “B”eta also Beale mentions fighting using the hordes must be an alliance

In TOWL that woman who was chatty to “Dana” and gave her full government name.

There’s more I’ll keep adding to this list.

Way forward I see skirmishes and people taking sides, What I would love to see is that Rick Grimes name gets to be known because (and Michonne) saved Portland.

I would also like to see Michonne reunite with Elle of the Caravan and finally settle their people.

Beale showed Rick Walker hordes of 1 million they will have to eliminate those and not wait 14 years for them to decompose.

Personally, I would love for Michonne to have another child so that she and Rick can enjoy bringing in new life.

What I think Rick and Michonne aka George and Martha bring to the table is piecing together the puzzle of humanity. Some groups are good in growing crops and other like episode 4 were excellent at appropriate technology and innovation (obs not good at food production)

So we will see how this goes. The the time constraints and the ENORMOUS amount of content they had to cover (Rick's missing 8 years and Michonne's missing 2) , plus CRM, plus love story I give this 5STARS and 10/10

#the ones who live #the walking dead #rick grimes #richonne #towl #twd towl #michonne #towl spoilers #twd spoilers #michonne grimes

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a-d-nox · 11 months

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Hi :) I love your web of wyrd posts. I'd love to learn more about it 🥰🩷

web of wyrd: the right-most number, who we are destined to be / what you must accomplish in this life

the number we are focusing on today is based on the YEAR you were born - ex: i was born in 2000, as you see above, my rightmost number is 2 (2 + 0 + 0 + 0 -> 2).

but what does this number mean?

this number represents who we are destined to be. sort of like self fulfilling prophecy - everyone from a distinct year had many years where the expectation of their behavior was press into who they would become and how they would act (via schooling, world affairs, etc). that's what is occurring here in some regards. this the general assumption of what we, and the people born in the same year as us, will become. and thus what we are tasked with accomplishing in this lifetime to become this person.

so let's talk about some examples:

2 - the high priestess

rider-waite's high priestess is depicted as woman dressed in blue seated on the beach. she stares at the viewer blocking their view of the ocean behind her. in fact, her set up on the beach blocks the view as well. seated between one dark and one light column, she presents the viewers with the idea of balance - as the B stands for "boaz" and the J stands for "jachin" which are "strengths establishes" is hebrew they often indicate extremely like dark and light, day and night, etc. while blocking the ocean, she showcases it's ruler - the moon (which she represents). her headdress is that of the phases of the moon showing the shifts in feminine life - maiden, mother, and crone. she wears a cross and holds the Torah showing her devotion toward higher beliefs. behind her is a tapestry covered with pomegranates (fertility symbol).

2s are destined to be connected to the divine. they will be intuitive - they will see through the shadows and all that is hidden from the naked eye (no matter how much blocks the view). they will not fear looking within. they will be comfortable with the cycles of life and their femininity. they are destined to guide others as well as themselves through life.

2s need to accomplish the ability to look within and trust themselves over others. they need to learn to look past logic and small details and trust the universe to take them where they belong most in life. they must also learn that they are more than just their body/vessel.

4 - the emperor

rider-waite's emperor is an older man who sits on a stone throne - ram heads (he represents aries) perch on the corners of the throne. he wears armor beneath his red (desire/passion) robes. the emperor is the divine masculine of the deck; he is a strong leader (we see this in all the stone elements of the card - the throne and mountain range (alludes to the hermit and the fool) behind him - and the golden crown, rod, and orb he has with him). the landscape behind him is barren except for a stream (emotions and intuition) - he can see anything coming. the warm tones in the card serve to emphasized power, authority, and materialism.

4s are destined to lead. they will be strong and powerful individuals. they will take action on the things that matter most to them and those around them. they will believe in and acknowledge their authority, ambitions, and power. they will serve the greater good, not just themselves. they will have big personalities and won't be afraid to take up space.

4s must accomplish self-confident and leadership in this life. it's easy to lead others - but it's difficult to be someone worth following. being a good leader is hard. these individuals must find what inspires them and campaign for that inspiration and action to take place.

7 - the chariot

two sphinxes pull rider-waite's chariot and the man on it. one white and one black (goes back to the high priestess's columns) sphinx lie motionless on the ground - the white looks to the right (the future - the positives) and the black looks to the left (the past - the negatives). despite being armored (he represents cancer) and thus looking ready for battle, the charioteer holds no reins. with the warships and river at his back and the stars (alludes to the star card) over his head, the card depicts the importance of not acting on impulse but rather acting intuitively.

7s are destined to ascend from one reality and into another - they will break generational curses/patterns. they will meet the goals they set in life. these people will be determined, intuitive, and methodical.

7s must accomplish the ability to plan. they need to think clearly and intentionally when making moves in this life time. solid foundations and certainty of the next move is necessary to this person's success. they must face patterns in their life and break them. not all violence/confrontation is necessary, so they must decide throughout life what is worth the fight and what is not.

that's all for today. the next number we will be looking at number between this number and the crown number.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic." button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next! if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

click here for the masterlist

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#astrology #astro community #astrology tumblr #tarot witch #tarotscope #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #web of wyrd #matrix of destiny #the matrix #the high priestess #the chariot #the charioteer #the emporer

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stayconnecteed · 4 months

Text

❪⠀🪐. memories⠀𓏔⠀hwang hyunjin⠀❫

you were in love, until you weren't anymore. or maybe you still were, but chose to learn not to be just to heal from all that meant falling in love with him⠀★⠀2.7k words

content: tbh idk what is this,, i don't even know how to categorize it, i felt kinda sad and started writing, and i thought on sharing it here. plot,, the point of view of hyunjin after your break up. i would say angst but at the end it kind of good. reader and hyunjin don't end up together tho. warnings,, think of this as a beautiful relationship that turned slightly toxic, hyunjin was very very whipped for reader, the format is like a letter to you he never sent. note,, i wrote this listening to hannah bahng's cover of memories by conan gray, one of my favourite audios in the world.

─── Excerpts from Hwang Hyunjin's diary over a year after the break up.

September 6th

Yesterday I walked by that coffee shop you liked to go to so much, at the end of the street where you used to work, the one with the navy couches and old photographs hanging on the wall. It's now closed. On the notice taped to the door it says that it is for sale, that they were very sorry but they decided to go out of business because they could no longer afford the expense, to call the phone number listed there if you were interested in buying it. And I did. Call, I mean. I had that urge to buy it, because it reminded me of you, because I knew you would like it. I listened for two rings and then hung up. The couches were purple. I saw it, even though the glass was full of dust, and I don't know anymore if they had been navy from the beginning or you had convinced me of it, but at that moment I saw them purple, and the magic was gone again. I guess it doesn't matter now. It had been a while since I had been here, maybe they had to change them. To see if they could attract more customers, as you always joked with the owner. That's why you liked the place, right? It was quiet. Peaceful. You could barely hear the music in the background or the murmur of the street, and as much as you adored their coffee, we both knew it was doomed to have an end. Like us, I suppose. You were always drawn to lost causes.

That's why I called you. I think you had blocked my contact, but it didn't hurt to try. I thought about everything we had shared. On my way to the apartment I live in now I bought those noodles you liked so much, and the ice cream we had every time there was something to celebrate. The TV was playing one of those movies from the 2000s that we watched over and over again on Friday nights, even though we had already seen them, just because I loved that look on your face you had when you did something you were apssionate about. It seemed like a hoax. For a moment it seemed as if I could touch you, as if by reaching across the fabric of the couch you were going to be there, on the other end, waiting for me to finish dinner so you could snuggle up next to me. I guess it was one of those days, wasn't it? Those when you stop pretending that everything is okay, even though nothing was wrong, and let sadness win you over.

I don't actually think I'm sad, though. Not really. Just… nostalgic. I miss what we had. I miss you. Not in the unhealthy way I did in the beginning, when we decided to split up and I instantly regretted it. It's more of a warm, bittersweet memory that creeps up on me from time to time. Your smile, so beautiful and bright, how soft your hair was when you rested your head on my lap and I couldn't stop caressing it, how your hand felt against mine as we entwined them, the hurried way your heart pounded under my lips as I kissed your skin, how I felt your chest vibrate as I fell asleep on top you in the middle of a conversation… Now that I think about it, I think I've forgotten your voice. The temptation to search for old audios is too strong, but I'm afraid to find out what I would really feel if I get to hear you.

I have seen pictures. I have too many, so looking for them was not a big problem. I keep them on that hard drive you gave me when you got tired of watching me stress out because I thought I had lost flash drives that had never left my desk. In it is my favorite folder, the one with all the captured moments that reflected that side of you that you didn't let anyone else see. The ones I took of you when you didn't realize it, with your hair disheveled on our bed, your bare back contrasting with the sheets, still asleep; or playing with Kkami in the park, running next to her, with your scarf tangling in the wind and your smile brighter than ever. Those for which you did pose, with amused expressions and seductive glances, with our friends and in the intimacy of our home, those you approved of after I showed them to you, acknowledging with an embarrassed blush that you did look pretty, and also those you couldn't even see, your mind betraying you by making you see so many flaws that you thought you were drowning in them, so many defects I was unable to see.

It's the first time that the sight of you didn't make my heart tear apart. Each new file I opened was a memory that I could bring back to life, at least for a few minutes, moments that I treasured fondly, and that finally made me smile. Can you believe it? Me, who so many times left voice messages begging you to come back, who had to stay at home for weeks after breaking up because visualizing a life without you by my side made me want to die, the person who every time they saw something that reminded them of you would burst into tears, feeling the loss of your presence like the shadow of death, was finally enjoying those memories that included you.

You'll be happy to know that I'm starting to draw again too. I had thrown away all my art supplies when I moved, and I have all my paintings locked away, but the other day I stopped by the store I used to go to and bought a sketchbook. I didn't intend to do anything with it, I just wanted to run my hand over the pages again, just like I used to do before starting a new project. As soon as Felix found out, he bought me new watercolors and pencils. You know how he is, the first to cheer every time something good happens to you. He celebrates your victories as if they were his own. I guess that's what this is, isn't it? A victory. I've managed to win against the ghost of our past, and my reward is a nice charcoal sketch of a tulip. It's not my best work, but for the moment it works for me. Little by little, with training wheels.

November 24th

I would like to know how you are doing. Changbin hyung told me that you finally moved in, just like me. I guess every little corner of the apartment reminded you of me. I wouldn't have lasted long there either. You hardly talk to the rest of the guys, and it makes me wonder if you were really happy with me. When I met you you had your own group of friends, but you stopped talking to them to the point that all we knew were my friends, and each other. That was probably one of the reasons you encouraged me to break up. It wasn't healthy, was it? I find it pathetic that I realize it now, so many months later, although it was pathetic even then, with how desperately in love I was with you. I tend to get so lost in my feelings that I forget everything else. Sometimes, "everything else" is often more important than what's going on in my head, and in my heart, because in the end, thoughts are just thoughts. I wonder if Changbin hyung would tell me if you were having a hard time. You know that after what we went through together, I would come in an instant if you called me. Some things don't change. You can separate us, but you can't ignore what once existed. And I like to think you feel the same way.

I know you have a boyfriend. I've seen you around town, walking hand in hand, just like we used to do. I thought about waving, approaching you and introducing myself to the lucky man who can call you his, but cowardice gets the better of me. I don't want to make a fool of myself. You've always been sharp with words, and the last time we met was humiliating enough. I'm not talking about the last time we spoke, but when we met. That afternoon when Chan accompanied me to collect the boxes that were left in what had been our home, my name written in that chaotic handwriting you have, set aside in the entryway. We looked at each other in silence when you opened the door, and I never knew how I had the strength not to burst into tears. What I wanted most of all was to take refuge in your arms and for you to tell me that everything was going to be all right. Did you feel it? That pain? You always noticed it at first, it was almost unnatural the way my chest began to open with grief, as if my own heart was crying tears of blood.

You felt it too, I'm sure. That's why you looked away. That's why you didn't open your mouth except to wish me well. I remember thinking that it wasn't fair that it was going to end like this, that I didn't understand why it had to end at all. We were doing great. True, we argued, as all couples do, and not even that often, or that we were somewhat possessive of each other. But it was okay, wasn't it? It meant that I cared about you. That you loved me. That we would rather be with each other than with anyone else. But you looked away, and I shut my mouth, and I didn't have time to memorize you before I left. Even after calling you for days, when you finally picked up the phone and begged me to stop, even then I couldn't catch the exact tone of the words you had used to keep them in my memory forever. And now you're gone, and I'd like to think I don't care as much as I used to, but sometimes a person's absence is more present than the people you have sitting next to you. And it hurts more than the worst wound, because you crave something you can't have.

I guess we were destined to end up together and end up apart. It was impossible for us not to have fallen in love when you approached me in that library, with the book I was looking for in your hand, just as we were bound to untangle ourselves after a while, having to suffer through the process of accepting that everything we had built was falling apart. We both knew it, and came to accept it in the haze of those who have just found their soulmate, but only you were smart enough to see it coming and protect yourself, leaving me as the only victim. And worst of all, I know that had never been your intention, that you would never have hurt me on purpose. But I was doing it to you, and you decided to be selfish, pushing me away so you could move on. And after all I can't hate you, I can't even stop loving you, because you became so blended with my soul that removing you would be like taking away an essential part of what makes me being me.

That's my problem, isn't it? I live it all so intensely… It's exhausting. When someone loses the person they thought was going to be the one, they usually console themselves with the thought that they weren't the one. But I can't indulge myself, I don't deserve that consolation, because we were meant to be. Maybe not to last a lifetime, but for the little bit we got to share. I have had to say goodbye to you, to see you become a stranger, but the people we were when we were together are still alive, in some space of our memory, like a story written by both of us, one in which we each have our favorite chapters, and to which we know we can come back whenever we want, to remember each other. I know that at some point in my future I will be able to open that book and read any page and it will no longer hurt, that I will savor every word with a smile on my lips, the smile of someone who knows that while it lasted, I made the most of every single second. And I know that future is closer than far away.

January 15st

I have stopped counting the days since we broke up. I feel like I'm getting better, I know I am. Yesterday I went out with Seungmin and Jeongin for a walk, and I took my old camera with me, after so long. My hands no longer shake when I hold it. They started goofing around, and playing among the trees in the park with Kkami, and it didn't hurt me to say that was something you used to do. I told it as an offhand comment, as if I were telling them about what I had eaten the day before. Now you are just another memory in my mind, floating among the gray matter of moments in my life. You no longer hurt, you no longer harm.

On the way to the dance studio last week, the driver drove past that coffee shop. I don't know if you'll have time to go now that you're so busy with your new life, and anyway I guess coffee doesn't suit you as well as it used to, but someone bought it. And it's still a coffee shop. I went today morning, and I felt better than I have in a long time. The new owners have done an awesome job, and business is running smoothly. In the hour and a half I sat at one of the tables in the back, more customers came in than I've seen in all the years we've been together. The iced americano is delicious, and the atmosphere relaxes me enough to doodle in the margins of my lyrics notebook.

I feel attached to this place, somehow. You found us, and made us feel special. During the time we enjoyed your company, and your trust and love, we were fully happy. When you left us, we had a terrible time, letting our inner selves shut down, refusing affection or help. But now we are doing well. We've gotten over that rough patch, we try to look out for ourselves, we smile at life. And the couches are maroon. I asked the barista, who is one of the people who came up with the new design. I didn't want to find out what the original color had been, that will be something I'll never get to know, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. It was fun when we would go and spend minutes arguing about the exact shade. But now they're maroon. And I like that color.

I was in love with you. I know you heard me say it that night I came home drunk, when I chose to pretend you were asleep and told you how you truly made me feel. I didn't fall in love with you, I ran to you knowing full well that I was going to love you with all my being, full of devotion and ready to end up devastated by you, but I guess it wasn't enough. Now that I have slowly learned to forget you I know that in all possible scenarios we would have ended up the same way. We were so obsessed with each other that we didn't realize we were consuming each other, but that's okay. Not everything is timeless, nothing lasts forever. The important thing is not to regret your memories, and I don't regret a single moment by your side.

taglist: @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @starlostastronaut · @manuosorioh · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @atinyniki

#﹙ ★ ﹚ mars — writes.#stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader

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