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#anyway I hope u enjoy!! I had just realized I never shared him
sixosix · 5 months
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requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff
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As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”
But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.
You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”
His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”
“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”
Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”
The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.
So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.
A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.
Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”
Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.
“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.
Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.
Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”
You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.
“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”
Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”
“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”
He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”
“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”
“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”
You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.
Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”
“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”
He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”
The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.
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hannieehaee · 1 month
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Can I request this? A wonwoo oneshot where they had a fight at the company which leads to the oc to storm out and later wonwoo finds out that on the way home she got really sick but at the moment the oc is in the library. So wonwoo mission is to get the oc out of there but she’s giving him the silent treatment somehow😁
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content: established relationship, idol!wonwoo, afab reader, public argument, angst, fluff, etc.
wc: 987
a/n: i did my best to include all the main details of the prompt into a short drabble i hope u enjoy<3
masterlist
you knew you were being quite immature.
yeah, it was just a small altercation with wonwoo over some small thing, but that had just been what it snowballed into.
it had only been a few days since wonwoo got back from tour, having been gone for a few weeks with limited contact with you due to timezones and his packed schedule. you understood. you were no newbie at this. by now it had been a while since you had began dating wonwoo, so you were already an expert on the ins and outs of dating an idol. however, you still demanded some type of attention.
when wonwoo finally arrived, you had expected that maybe he'd try a little harder to spend time with you. while you understood that he was likely very tired from touring, seeing the way in which he isolated himself rather than dedicate at least a bit of his free time to you did hurt your feelings.
had he not missed you as much as you did him?
this led to a one-sided silent treatment. he, of course, didn't really notice as the two of you weren't spending much time together anyways. though you were still on speaking terms with him, you were very curt and short in your interactions. something which he, yet again, had no reaction to.
which is what led to an embarrassing argument just a few hours ago. at the company. in front of his members.
it wasn't anything too big. it was mostly complaints about his terrible time management when it cane to sustaining your relationship. already hurt and having made the mistake of not communicating your issues to your boyfriend, you snapped when you stopped by the company to get lunch with him, only to be told he already had plans with his members.
after an embarrassing rant in front of half of seventeen, you stormed out, leaving a very confused wonwoo behind and finally allowing him to realize that he had unknowingly iced you out.
it felt like shit, to be quite honest. you felt invisible to him. was picking a fight the only way to get him to react?
things weren't always like this. wonwoo had always been the most comforting person you'd known. maybe he was a little reserved and shy at times, but he was always showing you his unconditional love. whether it was through his words or through silent acts of affection, he had never made you feel unwanted or ignored.
even when he'd return from a tiring tour, he'd isolate himself with you. you'd lock yourselves away from the world and simply exist with one another, encompassing each other in the love you shared. this time around, wonwoo had somehow forgotten about you, simply sharing a living space with you rather than being your home.
the worst thing was that he was entirely unaware. the moment you confronted him, you could see the shock in his eyes. wonwoo hadn't even realized he had been withholding himself from you emotionally. the more frustrated your voice grew as you ranted, the more his confusion transformed into hurt. he was hurt at the realization that you'd been hurting because of him – all while he thought everything was fine.
this made you feel miserable as soon as you made your way out of the company. fully aware that you should've communicated your distress to him earlier, you still left, embarrassed at the scene you caused and hurt that he hadn't considered your feelings until you shoved them in his face.
was it so wrong of you to have wanted him to realize on his own? you thought he knew you better than anyone, so it shouldn't have been too difficult a task to realize. right?
and now you were alone.
upon leaving the scene, teary eyed and embarrassed that you had shown such a vulnerable part of yourself in such a public setting, – in front of some of his friends, at that – you went to the place that brought you most comfort. you needed silence, so you went to a secluded library in town.
you and wonwoo would sometimes frequent this place. as both a bookworm and the girlfriend of a popular idol, this was one of the only places you could really go with wonwoo. it was secluded and quiet, meaning that you could simply exist around each other while not being perceived by anyone else. the memory of your times together there made you feel unable to concentrate, so you simply sat in silence for a while.
it wasn't too difficult for wonwoo to find you there. he had assumed you wouldn't just go back home, so he searched from you in places he knew you loved. this had been his second guess, right after the han river, where you would sometimes walk together at night.
sitting in your usual spot, wonwoo quietly approached you, sitting next to you. neither of you said anything. the first contact between you two came in the form of wonwoo's pinky seeking your own, twisting it with yours in a sweet manner. there was no way for you to deny him, so you humored him, eventually holding his hand as his fingers graced your own.
"im sorry," he whispered, looking down at his lap.
"yeah?", you whispered back.
"i take you for granted sometimes. you wait for me here and you put up with my hectic life and i ... i forget that i should reassure you of my love. im so sure of how i feel about you that i forget to let you know every single day. it wont happen again," he finished, eyes now boring into yours.
"can you say it?"
"i love you. you'll never have to ask me again. okay? i love you."
"i love you too."
"let me take you home?" he asked, leaning into you as you sat side by side.
"yeah."
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carakook · 10 days
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
“Sorry, I assumed he was your boyfriend because of the way you were tongue fucking outside. My bad.”
→ Chapters list ←
⚘7. Two Petals on the Same Flower
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader ⚘Synopsis: After your unexpected reunion with Jungkook, you must go on with the night and act completely normal... but shit just keeps going wrong. Surely Jeon Jungkook is a demon. ⚘Genre:Forbidden love ⚘Word count: 11.5k+ ⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of anxiety, mentions of sex, angst, conflict, religious metaphors (the story is not religious but makes references to a higher power, karma, fate, etc.), cigarette use, alcohol use, subtle arguing, jealousy, bullying? (fucking Sena), heavy tension, cheating, mentions of cheating, mentions of falling out of love/breaking up. Let me know if I miss anything! ⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story. ⚘A/N: WOW OK SORRY I AM A DAY LATE BUT I HAD ISSUES WITH THE 4096 ERROR, I FIGURED OUT A LOOPHOLE WHICH CONSISTED OF ME COPYING AND PASTING THIS INTO A WORD DOCUMENT, OPENING IT ON MY PHONE, AND THEN COPYING AND PASTING IT AGAIN IN THE APP. ANYWAYS. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I am sorry for the lack of uploads. Please forgive me if there are any typos. Already working on chapter 8! Things are picking up, how do you think things will go? LOVE YOU!
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪ Secrets - The Weeknd
♪ Guilty - TaeMin
♪ Agora Hills - Doja Cat
♪ Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez
♪ if u think i’m pretty - Artemas
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 It’s incredibly rare for you to smoke, as it isn’t exactly a healthy habit to form… Seojoon hates it, and you grew up watching adults do it all around you, swearing you would never pick up the same habit…
And although it isn’t a habit for you… sometimes you just need a fucking cigarette.
You never used to smoke, but Jungkook introduced you to it. Of course he did. On one of the nights you spent with him a long time ago, he went for a smoke outside. You remember scolding him for the nasty habit, telling him you don’t want to kiss him and taste burnt tobacco rather than his own pretty taste. But then he explained how relaxing it can be, how it’s ok to do things like this in moderation. Bad habits don’t make you a bad person, he said. It’s a quick fix for anxiety in some cases. So, you tried you it… and you realized that maybe he was right. You’re an adult, you’re allowed to indulge sometimes, even if it isn’t the best for you. And as much as you hate admitting it, Jungkook was fucking sexy when he smoked.
So, you started smoking too. Not often of course, only socially or when you needed to calm your nerves. An occasional indulgence, if you will…
Much like the kiss you shared with Jungkook moments ago.
You stayed behind after he went back inside, because there was no fucking way you could keep composed in front of everyone after that. Your lips were fucking swollen from the way he kissed you anyway, he left them pink and glossy with traces of him all over you. You remembered you kept an emergency pack of cigs in your bag, one that you haven’t touched in months, and you indulged.
You needed to get your shit together before facing everyone again. Needed to calm the fuck down and put your mask back on; that pretty, pretty mask, decorated in flowers and glitter, hiding the wilting flower growing underneath it. The flower you didn’t even realize was still there. The flower that you swore died when he left.
A cigarette was really the only way you could cope in the moment, and little did you know, Jungkook stepped out back to indulge just like you. Two peas in a fucking pod; or maybe two petals on the same flower.
You weren’t the only one holding on by a thread thanks to this little reunion. He was just better at pretending… fuck, has been pretending for months now. And tonight, he fears he may have a hard time keeping up the façade. Seeing you has awoken something inside of him that was long dormant, a slew of emotions he has no idea how to process. He needs to get his shit together just as much as you do, or he fears he may do something impulsive and stupid… if he knew his reaction to you would have been this strong, he probably would not have come tonight. But he just needed to see you again; his lilac aster, who isn’t much of an aster anymore…
His beautiful flower. Your biggest nightmare.
After smoking, you re-applied your lip stain for the second time, doused a bit more perfume on yourself, and practiced smiling in the car mirror like an idiot. Realized you have been gone far longer than you should have been considering you were only supposed to be grabbing your purse, so you try to act cool and nonchalant as you walk back inside. As if it was totally normal for you to spend 20 minutes outside when you were just doing a simple task.
You’ll just blame it on the anxiety, which isn’t a full on lie…
And as you glance across to the living room while removing your shoes… Seojoon isn’t there.
Neither is Sena or Jungkook.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
This reminds you precisely as to why you called things off with Jungkook. You fucking kissed him out there, and now you’re paranoid someone saw. Was it Yoongi? Did he fucking tattle tell like a rat? You know he saw something, there is no way he didn’t with the way he stared at you when coming to get Jungkook.
“In the kitchen.”
You flinch hard when you here the deep voice address you, turn to the side to see Yoongi leaning on the door frame in the hallway. Looks like the fucking Chesire Cat, the way he’s smiling with an almost mischievous look in his eyes.
“Sorry?”
You respond stupidly, because he caught you by surprise, and you were wondering where three people were, not one. You should only be wondering where one of those people are, that is, if your conscious was clean. But it isn’t. ‘Guilty’ may as well be written across your forehead.
Yoongi knows better.
He shakes his head as he huffs out a little laugh, a laugh that doesn’t sound humorous at all, but almost sarcastic. “Your friend, he’s in the kitchen. Sena too. Said they were talking about some work shit.”
The way he refers to Seojoon as your friend is intentional. He could see the discomfort on your face when he called himself your boyfriend, just as much as he can see the guilt right now.
“Ahh, ok.” You mumble, nodding your head as you shuffle to your feet. You give him the most awkward smile, and then move to make your way to the kitchen. If you weren’t so guilty, you would probably feel incredibly uncomfortable at the thought of Seojoon being alone in the kitchen with Sena. But as of right now, it’s the human fucking cat making you uncomfortable.
“Your boyfriend went for a smoke, if you were wondering. He’s grilling the pork belly outside too. Looked pretty fucked when he came back inside.”
You freeze, because… boyfriend? Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Now he decides to throw the word around?
Does he know?
“Sorry?” You say again, turning to look at him with what was supposed to be a confused expression, but your eyes say it all. Guilt. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Bad, bad, bad.
He snickers at this, because he can tell your mind is reeling with thoughts about who might know. No one knows… other than him. See, Yoongi and Jungkook are close. Yoongi is who Jungkook goes to when he needs advice from someone who won’t be biased, someone who will tell him like it is, call him out on his bullshit. Yoongi is the only other soul who knows about the sins committed between you and Jungkook. He is well acquainted with the secret garden built between you two, much like Sohee is.
Everyone needs someone to tell their secrets to, after all.
Yoongi knew what was happening tonight. Jungkook told him, and Yoongi tried really hard to talk him out of coming. Tried to talk some sense into the idiot’s head, but he knew damn well Jungkook wouldn’t listen. Once Jungkook sets his mind to something, he can’t be stopped. So, Yoongi vowed he would at least attempt to keep the peace tonight, keep Jungkook in check.
Yoongi is also just really fucking good at reading people. Can tell easily when someone is lying. Can look at someone and guess what their trauma is. Always has been a perceptive man… but he’s also great at keeping secrets. A blessing and a curse.
Never one to judge, but always one to tell you when you’re being a shitty person.
And… Yoongi really likes fucking with people.
“Sorry, I assumed he was your boyfriend because of the way you were tongue fucking outside. My bad.”
You flinch again because, holy fuck, he did see. Why was he even watching? Is he about to blow your cover? Blackmail you? Scream to the top of lungs ‘they’re dirty cheaters!’
“He is not my boyfriend. Never has been.”
Not a lie, for once. Never was your boyfriend. Was… fuck. You don’t even know what he was.
Lover. Soulmate. Flower boy. Florist. Garden keeper. Guilty pleasure. A fucking demon who you cant escape, apparently.
Yoongi scoffs at you, because he hates this game. Sure, he wants to fuck with you, make you squirm a bit. Doesn’t like the fact that you showed up here for the first time to meet everyone and end up outside making out with someone you acted like you didn’t know. Thinks if you’re going to fuck up, do something that fucking risky, you may as well grow balls and admit to it when confronted.
He clearly knows, so he sees no reason for you to be defending yourself and deflecting. He gets it, he does, and he isn’t judging either of you. But fuck, don’t make him say it out loud.
He will if he has to. But he doesn’t want to throw that awful ‘M’ word around. Calling him your boyfriend is far less heavy than him voicing what he really was to you, or what you were to him.
“Right… well, I’m not here to start shit. I’m not here to tell everyone either, no one else is aware of your… situation. I’m just here to make sure Kook doesn’t act fucking stupid… so please, do us both a favor, and just… don’t.”
You feel your heartrate pickup and that familiar heat all over your body that comes with being called out. Like a scolded child. You’re getting both irritated and nervous. The only reassuring thing he just said was that he isn’t going to tell anyone… but why is he putting the blame on you?
If you knew Jungkook was going to be here, you wouldn’t have come. And you tried to avoid him, fuck, you went outside specifically to get away from him and get your head straight. But he followed you, of course he did, the love sick stray dog he’s become couldn’t help it.
“Scold him. Not me. If you’ll excuse me…”
Yoongi knows he’s coming off a bit harsh, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t know the details of your fucked up affair with him, he just knows the basics. One drunken night recently is when Jungkook confessed, after he found out you were dating Seojoon. Told Yoongi the basics of what happened and how it ended, and how fucked he still is. Yoongi always knew something was eating Jungkook up that went beyond his rocky marriage, and finding out exactly what it was… it made sense.
He doesn’t ever want to see Jungkook in such a bad spot again. So anguished and full of regret and yearning… he’s only trying to protect him, because even if he is the one being stupid, he’s still one of Yoongi’s dearest friends.
Biased? No. But he will do whatever it takes to lessen the messes Jungkook makes of himself, even if that means being a bit harsh towards you.
And you, you’re reeling. You want to ask Yoongi so many questions, such as how he knows, why he knows, if he hates you automatically after knowing who you are and what you’ve done. It definitely strikes you as odd that Yoongi is aware of who you are, because even if he knew about what happened between you and Jungkook, how would he automatically catch on to the fact it was you? Was it the kiss? Did that give it away..?
Or was this all pre-meditated?
So many questions, but now is not the time for answers. Maybe eventually you can ask, but as of now, you have a role to play; Seojoons perfect girlfriend, apparently.
So you once again, begin walking towards the kitchen.
“One more thing Y/N…”
Can he please just shut the fuck up and disappear?
“Hm?”
“Be so fucking careful around Sena. And I’m not talking about with Jungkook.”
Before you can even ask, he’s gone. You turn to question him, ask him why the fuck he’s being so cryptic, demand he just say what he means… but he’s gone. Chesire fucking cat.
You really don’t like what he said or how it made you feel, because… if not with Jungkook, then what? Why would you possibly need to be careful around that snake?
You huff. Run your fingers through your hair as you feel a migraine start to come on. Fuck, you need a drink, because the nicotine is already wearing off.
You finally end up making your way into the kitchen, but pause once you reach the entryway. See Sena and Seojoon… whispering.
You don’t like that either. What the fuck are they whispering about?
Sena looks irritated as fuck, waving her hands around animatedly as she speaks. Seojoon is looking down at her with an expression that mimics worry, and you try really hard to decipher what they’re saying before you’re noticed.
Fuck you wish tonight was over already. Too much shit is going wrong.
“They’re conspiring against us.”
You jump a little when you feel hot breath in your ear, hear the deep whisper of the man who’s been haunting your dreams for the last six months. You hate how the simple act of him whispering in your ear brings back several memories… all of them incredibly inappropriate.
“What?”
You look up at him as you ask, and he has a shit eating grin on his face. His pupils are still blown to shit, you wonder if its because he’s looking at you again or if they jus haven’t calmed down since the kiss. He smells heavily of smoke, cigarette smoke and charcoal, but fuck the way it mixes with his cologne…
Nope. Stop.
“Oh—I—Y/N. Sorry, I didn’t notice you. How long have you been standing there?”
Seojoon addresses you almost robotically, looking between you and Jungkook as you both stand awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen. Immediately, alarm bells ring in your ear. You wonder why he’s even asking that, what they were talking about to warrant a question like that.
But you cant decipher whether this is a gut feeling, or guilt making you project your wrongdoings onto him. That’s what fucks you up the most; a woman’s intuition is rarely wrong, but how can you tell when you’re the guilty one?
You clear your throat, step to the side a bit to gain some distance from Jungkook. Can’t think straight when he’s all warm and smelling like a fucking lumberjack next to you.
“Uh… I just came in a bit ago, sorry I took so long, just really needed some air… what were you talking about?”
The entire time you speak, everyone’s eyes are on you. You can’t read the emotion on Seojoon’s face, it’s almost like he’s purposely masking it. Jungkook doesn’t even fucking try to hide how intensely he’s looking at you. And Sena… well, her look of disdain just grows.
Seojoon chuckles, shakes his head as he walks towards you, drapes his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in as he nods towards Sena.
“We were just talking about work, me and Sena are working on a project together but I haven’t had time to visit her at the office, so I thought it was great timing. Right Sena?”
He looks at Sena with the same expressionless look, and she doesn’t look at him at all. Her eyes are on you.
“Right.” She replies flatly before making her way beside Jungkook, who barely reacts to her linking their arms together.
Odd, in the way she seems so territorial… not just of him, but everything surrounding her. Including Seojoon.
Don’t like that. Not at all.
Seojoon nods awkwardly and then begins dragging you along towards the dining table, but stops when he moves to kiss your temple… looks at you, scrunches his nose up as he leans in to sniff you.
Fuck. Does he smell Jungkook?
You tense up a bit, wait for him to ask you why you smell like another man all of a sudden. Start praying that you will simply drop dead before you can even answer.
“Did you smoke or something? You smell like smoke, I hate it.”
Fuck… the smoke. Not the cologne, but the smoke.
You hate how relieved you feel knowing you haven’t been caught, although you are a bit offended. Hate how he addresses you like some unruly child in the moment.
You’re about to answer, say something snarky, but of course—
“Sorry man, that must be me. Was smoking and grilling the pork belly outside, must’ve rubbed off on your girl.”
Could he have worded it any worse?
Seojoon nods at Jungkook, regards him casually. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go and arching a playful brow at Jungkook.
“Ah, ok. But please, don’t rub off on my girlfriend, yeah?”
He chuckles before nodding towards the dining room, signaling for you to come with. In any other situation, you would have laughed at the dirty joke. But obviously, not right now, not when you still taste him on your lips, not while you’re remembering the several instances where Jungkook actually rubbed off on you, not while he’s standing right beside you.
If only he—
“If only he knew.”
Jungkook whispers as he passes you, turns around and walks backwards with his tongue sticking out and eyebrows wiggling up and down. Fuck, like he read your fucking mind. You have no idea how he can fucking say that right now, what if someone hears him? He’s being stupid, just as Yoongi said, and you aren’t even provoking him. You’re worried he’s going to get you both caught.
It's at that moment that Sena brushes past you, bumps your shoulder, which you are sure is intentional. She enters the dining room, doesn’t even say sorry, and quite frankly, you don’t care. You don’t have the energy for her petty shit, or for trying to dissect why she’s so weird with you and Seojoon. You have bigger problems, problems decorated in piercings and tattoos.
You grunt at him and roll your eyes, move to brush past him as you mumble simply, “Fucking stop.”
He playfully pouts at you, follows you into the dining room and says low enough for your ears only, “Fiiine I swear I’ll behave the rest of the night.”
You ignore him once you get into the dining room, put your mask back on quickly. Smile at everyone as they greet you warmly. Urge you to take a seat and join them for food. The smell of freshly grilled pork belly and many sides wafts through the air, and even then your appetite isn’t present. The only thing swirling in your stomach are fucking butterflies; or worms and flies, you don’t know anymore.
But you don’t make it obvious, instead you take a seat next to Seojoon, who has already made you a hefty plate of food. You thank him, and begin picking at it as you try to decipher what everyone is chatting about.
Until you feel a familiar warmth beside you again… and you swear to god, you are about to whack him with your fucking purse.
You immediately glare at Jungkook for taking a seat directly beside you, his big ass is so close that his thigh presses against yours. He holds his hand up in surrender, makes a pouty face at you.
“Hey! I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear, it’s the only open seat.”
You scoff at him, look around the table because you are fully prepared to call him out on his bullshit… but he’s actually telling the truth. You realize the table isn’t exactly the biggest, and every seat is taken except for the one he’s at. Sena is on his other side, so it makes sense for him to be sitting there… he isn’t lying.
Ah, ok, you just have absolute shit luck. Right. Got it.
You glare at him a second longer before averting your eyes, staring directly in front of you now… where Yoongi sits. Oh, how lovely. His eyebrow is raised as if to silently say ‘You’re both being stupidly obvious.’
You look away quickly, shoveling a bite of food into your mouth to try and distract yourself from how wrong everything is going. You’re thankful that only three people in the room are aware of it, but also… fuck. You really hate having to pretend when all you want to do is fucking scream.
Thank god for alcohol.
Because as the night goes on, you shamelessly drink as if it’ll be your last. You know how to handle your liquor, so you don’t overdue it, but you drink enough to silent your overthinking brain. In your tipsy state, it’s much easier to laugh along with the jokes being told or to join in on the conversation… it’s also much easier to ignore the thorn in your side.
Easy to ignore the way his eyes are constantly on you. Easy to ignore how every time you laugh, he mimics you. Easy to ignore how every time you speak, he pays such close attention that his mouth traces the words coming from your own. Easy to ignore how he’s subtly shifted closer to you throughout the little potluck dinner.
Easy for you to ignore, but impossible for him.
See, he’s torn. He hasn’t felt so fucking happy in such a long time, simply just being in the same room as you has him on cloud nine. But, fuck, he wishes you would acknowledge him. The fact that you’re ignoring him as if he doesn’t exist has made him grow a bit antsy… maybe even irritable underneath the euphoria he feels from being so close to you again.
So, so close… but still so far away.
Everyone is done eating now, most of the food is gone. Of course, your mac and cheese was a hit, and the pork belly went great with it. Everyone else had dishes just as delicious… with the exception of Sena, who brought a fucking salad full of spinach and kale.
You fight the urge to laugh at the fact the bowl is still full.
Now, everyone is enjoying dessert, the vibe is mellow. Of course you’re still on edge, but it’s easier to manage, because Jungkook really has been behaving. Other than the occasional ‘accidental’ touch, he hasn’t provoked you.
Taehyung, being the gracious host that he is, brewed a fresh pot of English tea to go with dessert. He was hell-bent on dipping the cookies you made in tea, said it was the perfect combo, and nothing is more soothing than a hot cup of tea. Everyone is so kind, with the exception of Sena, and they’ve all been very open and loving towards you. Even Yoongi has talked to you some, didn’t make it weird at all. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought… You are silently thankful for how much things have calmed down since the earlier shit show.
But of course, the calm always comes before the storm.
Jungkook was full of euphoria, even if he was irritable at the fact he couldn’t openly adore you… until he saw Seojoon’s hand gripping your thigh. If you’re being honest, you haven’t even noticed, alcohol always makes you a bit oblivious to things like that especially when you’re engaging in conversation with others. But Jungkook, oh, Jungkook noticed… and he cannot fucking stand it.
He is well aware that he has no fucking right to feel possessive or irritated with Seojoon’s hands on you; you aren’t his girl, you haven’t seen each other in months, and he knew you were coming here with him as your date. He knows.
But even though he knows, he can’t control how he feels in this moment. How he just wants to rip Seojoon’s hands right off of you, maybe even rip his arms off completely so he can’t touch you again. He feels like he’s gonna turn into the fucking Hulk.
The ugly green monster, big, bad, scary, out of control: Jealousy, an emotion he has never been good at controlling.
He bounces his leg up and down, feeling like he’s gonna crawl out of his skin the more he stares at Seojoon caressing your thigh. Feels like he needs to make him stop, but he can’t just tell him to stop, that would be weird. That would give it all away, and although Jungkook is near the point of not giving a fuck who knows about your shared past… he’s also well aware of how reckless he has been all night.
He knows damn well how reckless it would be to make things so obvious. It’s your secret, too, and he has no right to make it known unless you choose to; and he knows you wouldn’t ever choose that willingly. He wouldn’t either, not here anyway, even if he thinks about it.
But then he sees Seojoon laugh, pick up his cup of luke-warm tea, take a sip, and put it back down.
Gets an idea. An extremely petty one.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he says casually, “Mmm this tea could use some sugar, ‘scuse me…”
He reaches over you towards the sugar cubes, even though there’s a cup of them right in front if him, and he makes a move to grab them. But after grabbing the little cup full of sugar cubes, he ‘accidentally’ knocks Seojoon’s cup of tea off of the table…
Right into your lap, spilling all over you and all over Seojoon’s hand.
Seojoon hisses, yanks his hand away from your thigh. You let out a little squeak, although the tea isn’t piping hot anymore, it’s warm and uncomfortable as it covers your thighs and a portion of your dress.
“What the fuck, man?” Seojoon asks irritably, and honestly is being a little dramatic. He’s cradling his hand as if it burns or hurts, but you know it doesn’t considering it didn’t burn you at all, wasn’t even hot.
You also know this was no accident, judging by that look in Jungkook’s eyes that you’ve seen in the past; the look of satisfaction blended with fake innocence… the same look he used to give you when he would edge the fuck out of you even though you begged him to just let you finish.
You immediately move to grab a napkin, which you half expected Seojoon to do for you, but he’s too busy cradling his hand. Drama king. You begin dabbing at your dress and thighs, shooting Jungkook a glare similar to the one earlier.
He flashes the most innocent, apologetic, fake-ass smile you’ve ever seen, grabs a napkin and starts assisting you in cleaning up the mess on your thighs.
“Ah, I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy sometimes. Let me help…”
Two things go through your mind; why is Jungkook helping you, but not Seojoon, and holy fuck, he is touching your thighs.
To the rest of the table, who are stuck between scolding Jungkook and checking on you and Seojoon, his touches probably seem clinical; an attempt to help fix his mess… but to you, it feels as if the tea sticking to your skin is suddenly piping hot. His fingers fucking burn when they touch your skin, and it causes goose bumps to raise all over your body.
You shoot him a look, although you aren’t sure of your expression. He makes eye contact, doesn’t dare look away as he slowly wipes the napkin over your skin, dabbing away the liquid until your skin is dry.
That same needy look he used to get when you were on top. Those fucking eyes that beg you for anything, everything, suck you in. It’s as if he’s silently saying, ‘please let me touch, I’ll do anything.’
You hate yourself at this moment, the alcohol somehow doesn’t dim down the sensations of his fingers in your skin. You wonder why when Seojoon was caressing your thigh, you barely noticed… yet this small touch from Jugkook is setting you alight in a way you haven’t been in so fucking long.
Why are you even thinking about these things? Why are you remembering these things about him? They’re all supposed to be buried in the soil along with your dead flower. Is the flower still alive? Has it somehow survived these months of anguish and healing?
Did you ever heal at all? Did you ever truly get over him, or did you just get better at not thinking about him every second of the day?
Fuck. This is a mess. The way he’s looking at you doesn’t help, and what's worse is you cannot look away. Your thighs are dry now, and he dabs uselessly at the wet spot on your dress as his other hand boldly reaches up and skims the side of your leg… what the fuck is he doing? At a table full of people?!
You don’t even realize that Seojoon is now arguing petulantly with Taehyung. Oh, sweet Taehyung, who is being just as dramatic as Seojoon, fretting over his hand as if it’s the end of the fucking world that Jungkook spilled luke-warm tea on him.
“Jungkook-ah, say you’re sorry! You could’ve hurt him, him and his pretty hands!”
That snaps Jungkook out of it, the needy look leaving his face quickly as he snatches both hands away from you as if you are the one burning him now. He won’t even look at you.
Because he just almost lost control. Genuinley, he was not paying attention to those around you both. He got fucking sucked into another dimension, full of flashbacks, pictures of flowers and your face, and all he fucking wanted was to touch.
As much of a little shit as he is being, he doesn’t want that. He feels crazy. Just scared himself a little bit.
He glares at Taehyung and then addresses Seojoon, “My apologies hyung, was an honest accident. Is your hand ok?”
Seojoon nearly wants to scoff at the use of the honorific because something feels so fake about it… because it is fake. Meant to butter him up and make him believe Jungkook didn’t just purposely spill some tea all over him out of jealousy.
Luckily, Seojoon is none the wiser. He’s just irritated with Jungkook in general… for other reasons that don’t exactly involve you or Jungkook directly at all.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect it…”
Seojoon mumbles as he realizes you also got drenched in tea. He looks down, notices you’re already as clean as you can be, and is thankful he doesn’t have to fret over you too. His mood is a bit soured now, but even then he nudges you and gives you a small smile.
“You good baby? Didn’t ruin your dress, did you?”
You nod at him, try to hide how shaky your hands are as you straighten the hem of your dress to cover your thighs. You feel a bit too exposed, your skin still burning from the intensity of Jungkook’s touch… begin to wonder if he has turned into poison ivy, rather than a flower.
You can’t recall him being quite this intense in the past. Lot’s of unanswered questions go through your head again.
You nod at Seojoon and smile, “I’m good, it’ll come out if I wash it. No worries.”
You let out a deep breathe, and Seojoon goes back to talking to Tae about some work thing. You look up through your lashes, make eye contact with the Chesire cat.
His expression is unreadable, which is unsettling for reasons you don’t understand. You wish you knew how much he knew… did he see Jungkook touching you again?
“You should be more careful, you’re really like a child sometimes, it’s exhausting.”
Your head snaps up to the sound of that grating female voice, and you feel another surge of irritation. Sena, speaking to Jungkook like that… oh, it pisses you off almost as he does.
What he did was childish, and you’ll pull him aside to scold him later probably, but why is she saying something like that in front of everyone? Isn’t that embarrassing? It is, it’s fucking humiliating. If Seojoon said some shit like that to you, you’d walk out.
Jungkook’s friends don’t know the exact issues in his marriage, but they’re used to this kind of thing. They know it is far from perfect, and have become accustomed to Sena’s behavior. They always make sure to check on him when she’s not around, but he always tells them to mind their business.
It doesn’t change the fact that it’s always a bit awkward when they overhear it.
Jungkook just rolls his eyes, because he doesn’t care anymore. Nods at her. Agrees with her, even. If he doesn’t, she’ll just argue, and he doesn’t really have the energy for that right now. Not when he still has the lingering feeling of your skin on the tips of his fingers, or the satisfaction he feels at the fact Seojoon hasn’t even attempted to touch your thigh again.
Messy, but… Mission accomplished.
You, however, it isn’t so easy for you to let go. You aren’t accustomed to her behavior like him and his friends, and you don’t plan to be.
“It’s fine, really, accidents happen.”
You shoot her a tight smile, try to be polite and reassuring… and she scoffs, rolls her eyes, and then waves a fucking hand at you.
“See? That’s something a mom would say to their kid if they spilled something. Even our new friend is talking to you like a child Jungkook, do better.”
You swear you feel your eye start to twitch.
“Sena, enough. I get it. My bad.”
Jungkook tries to get her to shut up, can tell you’re getting irritated. Part of him secretly likes it, the fact that you hate his guts right now but still try to defend his honor. But he’s also embarrassed because you’re finally seeing what his wife is like.
He wishes he was proud of his wife, but when shit like this happens? He’s anything but.
You try really hard not to start seething at her. You nearly want to jump across the table and pull her blonde fucking hair.
“No, I’m not speaking to him like a child, I’m stating the fact that accidents do happen and it’s nothing to get bitchy over. You’re the only one addressing a grown man as if he’s a child over something so small, Sena.”
“Excuse me???”
You know that scene in Mean Girls when the cafeteria turns into a jungle, and everyone starts fighting? It feels like that’s about to happen.
“Alright! Who wants more margaritas?! I do!”
Hoseoks voice carries across the table, clapping his hands with the brightest smile on his face, sounding a lot cheerier than he should in your opinion. But thankfully, it works. Clearly everyone heard you, and now you’re embarrassed. You just inadvertently called this woman a bitch over a man everyone presumes you met tonight for the very first time. You’re certain you’ve just made yourself look bad, could have handled yourself a lot better. But, fuck, you couldn’t help it. You hated hearing her speak to him that way and then try to make it as if you agreed with her! You tried to be nice, but she fucking pushed it.
“No thanks. My apologies.”
You bow your head slightly, and Hoseok just keeps that smile on his face. Rushes over to Sena’s side, badgering her to go in the kitchen and help him make more drinks. She groans at him, but gets up with an eyeroll and follows him.
You have a feeling that he did that specifically to get her away from you, and you’re unsure if that’s in your favor or hers. Fuck. Way too much shit has happened tonight.
You glance around the table, notice Jin and Namjoon are gone, must gave gone outside or maybe in the living room. Seojoon and Taehyung are in their own little world, you wonder if they even heard the little argument… and if they did, why hasn’t Seojoon said anything? God, you hope he isn’t mad now, although you wouldn’t blame him if he were.
That’s when you look straight ahead. Yoongi again. And he has the littlest smirk on his face… except this time, it almost seems genuine, not sarcastic or misplaced.
It's full of respect, because you just did the one thing everyone else around you refuses to fucking do for Jungkooks sake, which is speak up against Sena and her shitty attitude.
That’s the moment that you decide that you don’t regret it, and you don’t care if Seojoon is mad. If Yoongi, the man who apparently knows bits and pieces of your deepest darkest secret, is looking at you like that? Then you know you did the right thing. You’re a little proud, even.
You nod to Yoongi, a silent exchange between you two. Then you look beside you, and see Jungkook, with that needy expression on his face again. He’s sitting with his elbow propped on the table, his chin resting in his palm. Looks like he’s drunk, cheeks red, eyes heavy, lips a bit pouty… but he only had one beer.
He is drunk. Drunk on you, on the way you just defended him in front of everyone against his fucking wife. Nearly got hard because of it, which is why his cheeks are so flushed. He never expects the guys to defend him, in fact, makes it clear that they stay out of it when her attitude flares up. But you, oh you… You met her for the first time tonight, met everyone here for the first time tonight, and even in a room full of people you’re trying to impress… you defended him.
You still love him, he just knows it. He knows deep down inside, you must fucking love him. If you really hated him, you wouldn’t have done that.
He almost feels giddy at the knowledge.
You have a hard time looking away once again, you’re amazed that no one has noticed how intensely you both have locked eyes several times tonight. Jungkook just has that effect on you, he’s fucking beautiful, and the way he looks at you is enough to make you weak to this fucking day. Drives you mad with conflict.
And as you stare at him, you finally notice the little purple star patches on his face. Looks just like the ones you use… you wonder where the fuck yours even went, now that you think about it. Haven’t seem them in months.
You point to his cheek and mumble almost stupidly, “Those look exactly like the ones I used to use.”
He hums in response, sticks his tongue in cheek. Fights a grin, because if only you knew he fucking stole these from you the night he left.
Maybe he’ll confess one day.
“Weird,” is all he says in response.
He stares at you some more, like you he can’t look away. Looking at you, being near you, is the equivalent to a thirsty man finally getting a few sips of water. He was fucking thirsty, and his eyes drink you in as if you’re water straight from the spring.
He mouths the word ‘pretty,’ at you, uses a finger to point at your face and then your dress. Whispers, “So pretty.”
Fuck. You are going to die. You are going to have a heart attack.
“Jungkook, I’m ready to go home.”
Ok, maybe you won’t die, because you’re interrupted again… or maybe you will fucking die for that very reason.
Butterflies again. Not worms and flies. Butterflies.
Sena is staring at Jungkook with an irritated expression, her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed grumpily. Seems Hoseok’s margaritas didn’t sway her or improve her mood, seems you ruined her mood for the rest of the night, seems she’s the fucking child after all…
You just hope your little outburst doesn’t cause problems for Jungkook at home.
“Alright.” Jungkook says flatly, eyes still never leaving you.
You wonder if she notices. That thought alone makes you finally look away.
Seojoon eyes Sena almost wearily, but his gaze shifts to you once he realizes you’re staring back. He gives you a tight lipped smiled.
“We should get going too, you ready?”
You nod at him, because as much as you really would enjoy staying to chat, or making love with your eyes at Jungkook, you are fucking exhausted. Emotionally, anyway. Tonight has been so unnecessarily dramatic and you just want to go to sleep. You want to be able to take a shower, sit in there until the water runs cold, maybe cry a little, and process all of the shit that has happened tonight.
“Yeah, getting a little tired. Must be the alcohol.”
Or maybe it’s the headache staring at you like a sad dog right now.
You get up, force yourself to not look at Jungkook as he gets up as well. He nearly pouts, but he also thinks right now is a good time to wrap it up… although a sense of dread fills him at the thought of not seeing you again.
He won’t let that be an option. Nope.
You make your way to the living room where most of the guys have gathered, say your goodbyes. Each of them insist on hugging you, thanking you for coming. Taehyung especially, gives you the biggest fucking bear hug and makes you agree to hangout again, says he adores you, begs you to make him more cookies.
Seojoon is less than pleased with this, but tries not to show it. Tries not to feel threatened or jealous… tries not to feel guilty about the fact his own head was a bit all over the place tonight. Was barely paying attention to you after the whole girlfriend fiasco, if he’s being honest. Was worried Sena may start shit…
You don’t need to know that, though.
Yoongi is the only one who doesn’t hug you, which you don’t mind. Would feel far too awkward giving this mysterious man a hug. But he does offer you a head nod and a lip purse, so that’s something, right?
You don’t say goodbye to Sena, although Seojoon did say goodbye in both of your behaves.
You don’t say goodbye to Jungkook either. Don’t know if you can stomach uttering the words ‘goodbye’ again. Makes you feel all kinds of fucked up, so you just… don’t.
But of course, he won’t have that. Absolutely not.
Because right as you are following Seojoon out the door after putting on your ‘thrifted’ coat and shoes, he grabs your arm, pulls you back in. You let out a huff of air and yank your arm away. Not that the touch makes you uncomfortable, but… him touching you at all is causing some very confusing feelings, just like when he ‘accidentally’ spilled Seojoon’s tea and then cleaned you up after.
“You didn’t say bye. And you forgot your purse at the table.”
He states simply, handing you your purse and then sticking his hands in his pocket politely as he rocks back and forth on his heels.
Giving you that same fucking look. It’s so subtle, but his eyes practically beg you to at least say goodbye to him.
He's gonna make this hard, isn’t he?
You nod at him awkwardly and sling your purse over your shoulder. Fail to realize that it’s a bit lighter than it was when you originally brought it.
Because Jungkook, being the thief that he apparently is, impulsively took something from it. This time, he doesn’t intend to keep it, quite the opposite actually. See, he knew you would probably refuse to see him after this. He can’t take that. He needed an excuse to see you again, anything, something that you wouldn’t be able to say no to since he is certain you probably won’t even unblock his number after this.
He isn’t even sure what he plans to do when seeing you again. His intentions aren’t necessarily to start things up again, he isn’t that stupid, but… just to be in your life again. He would do anything to be in your life again.
Will do his fucking best to control himself if you do come around and show him mercy.
So… he took your wallet. Yeah, probably a very shitty thing to do. But you need your wallet, and he needs to see you… he can just say you dropped it and he picked it up for you. Maybe you’ll meet him for coffee, take it back, and then he can get on his knees and beg again for you to please, please, please give him another spot in your life.
Maybe it’s reckless, but he has been reckless all night. Maybe he will regret this tomorrow morning.
You don’t know this though, have no clue, completely just done with this shit tonight. Don’t even think to double check and make sure you have all of your belongings before leaving.
So you mutter, “Thanks… see ya.”
And you turn to walk off. Try to ignore how fucking terrible it feels to act so indifferent with him, but you don’t know how else to act after the past, and after the shit he pulled tonight. Reckless is an understatement in your opinion.
He's actually satisfied with this… because ‘see ya,’ implies that you will see him again. Whether it’s a subconscious choice of words, or intentional, he isn’t sure; but it still implies you are at least considering seeing him again.
It makes him smile to himself as he watches you walk off.
“See ya.” He echoes in response.
Now he just needs to figure out a way to contact you when you aren’t face to face, since you’ve blocked his number…
The drive home was fairly quiet, other than Seojoon thanking you for coming. He seemed a bit on edge, didn’t really say much after the vague praise of how well you did with his friends… but you chalked it up to him just being tired. You aren’t sure what the fuck the deal is between him and Sena, but you assume maybe she’s just someone who is very hard to be around. Seojoon works with her, so of course he would be a bit awkward with the way she acted, you wouldn’t want things to be awkward for him at work just because you don’t get along with her.
But also… you find it incredibly odd that he didn’t say anything when you stood up to her. He didn’t scold you, didn’t defend you, didn’t even tell you to watch your mouth. He didn’t bring it up at all… you swore he would. If it were you in his position, you would have stood by him and supported him in speaking up.
But he just said… nothing. Maybe he just doesn’t want to argue, or maybe he didn’t notice it; it’s been a long night, and you’re both full and tired. You’re more tired than him considering you drank a bit heavily, thank god he didn’t drink more than a beer.
Regardless, he takes you back to your place, decides he’s going to sleep over because he’s way too tired to drive back. You sometimes forget the fact that he’s older than you, and nearly make a joke about him being an old man… but decide against it. He seems a little grumpy.
You really just wanted to come home and wallow in your own self pity, but you suppose you will have to put that off.
Besides, this will be a good chance to bring up the fact that he called you his fucking girlfriend. Labeled you without giving you a heads up. And after you deal with that, he can fall asleep, and you can cry into your pillow about fucking flower boy and his antics.
You do take a shower first, although it isn’t two hours long like you wished it was. You stay in there for about 45 minutes before getting out, let the warm water wash over your body as you decompress. Tried not to think too much about those needy eyes or fiery hands.
Key word: tried. And you fucking failed. The moment you started to get aroused at a bunch of unwelcome memories, you turned the water to the coldest setting. Then you got out, dried yourself off, did all the girly thinks like skincare and lotion, and then got dressed. Pretended it didn’t happen.
As you make your way out of the bathroom, you see Seojoon has already made himself comfortable in your bed. He’s dressed down into his boxers, laying on his stomach with his cheek pressed into the pillow. His eyes are closed, but you know he’s not asleep because you can see the stress lining his brows.
Normally such a sight would be comforting… you don’t like sleeping alone. But tonight, you almost wish he went home so that you could have a few moments of peace.
Or maybe so you could have a complete mental breakdown without him being near.
You sigh and make your way to lay beside him on the bed, plug your phone into the charger and then look down at him. Cross your arms as you lean against the headboard, and he can feel you staring at the back of his head, so he turns to face you.
He knows what you’re about to say. Doesn’t want to deal with it, really, but he knows he needs to. So he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to say it.
“So I’m your girlfriend now?”
There it is.
He shrugs, keeps his eyes closed. Says simply, “Yeah.”
What more is there to say? Do you expect him to apologize for putting that label on your relationship finally, after several months of basically being boyfriend-girlfriend? It’s essentially what you are to begin with, he doesn’t see the big deal. It’s just a stupid label.
And it protects him from losing you. He didn’t like the way Taehyung doted on you, or how Hoseok called you pretty. He needed everyone there to know you were taken… especially that Jungkook guy. He swears he saw him looking at your ass.
(He did, by the way.)
If Seojoon knew the truth behind Jungkook’s little glances, he would probably have had a heart attack. Thank god he doesn’t know, even though you are unaware of the jealousy festering inside of Seojoon.
But that isn’t the only reason he claimed you as his girlfriend, Sena was a huge reason. The guys doting on you was just a bit of a push to get the words out, but he needed Sena to know he was exclusive with you considering she was far too comfortable when she greeted him.
Exclusive for now, anyway. Things between him and Sena are… complicated.
Just like things between you and Jungkook.
And neither of you have a fucking clue.
“Well, we never talked about it so it was pretty off putting to hear you just blurt it out like that. I didn’t like it Seojoon.”
You keep your voice leveled when speaking to him, calm, because you don’t want him to think you’re trying to argue with him… but you also want him to know how you feel. Boundaries and all that.
“Ugh, Y/N, it isn’t that serious. We are basically in a relationship as it is, you’re my girlfriend even without the label. You know it’s true, babe.”
You huff at him, because he doesn’t get it. He isn’t wrong exactly, but… you feel pressured now. The label isn’t the issue, it’s the fact that yesterday you were comfortable with whatever you and Seojoon are; now you’re unsure. A bit nervous, even.
“I get that Seojoon, I do, but you know how I am… I told you I wanted to move slow.”
“Yeah, you wanted to move slow, yet I have a key to your apartment and basically live here. Don’t be so stubborn, just let it be…”
You’re conflicted… because he’s right. You did say you wanted to move slow, yet you contradicted yourself in several ways. You don’t think you lead him on, because you do want to be serious with him… but also, pressure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, and you do not like it.
You begin to speak up, but he cuts you off.
“Baby, just stop overthinking. We just needed a little push, that’s all, and I pushed. Now you’re my girlfriend. As simple as that, yeah?”
He reaches up and pats your cheek lazily before turning on his back and grabbing his phone. You’re speechless momentarily, have no fucking idea how to respond to that. Start to question whether you’re being too uptight or not, because he’s making it sound as if you are. Again, he isn’t wrong… but you feel a bit manipulated. He literally silenced you.
Fuck, you hate this. You don’t hate the idea of being his girlfriend, but the way he’s handling it all is throwing you off completely.
You begin to wonder whether or not seeing Jungkook has anything to do with how fucked you’re feeling about it all. If you hadn’t seen him tonight, would you be more accepting of the new label? More willing to hear Seojoon out? Is this all just you being unreasonable?
Or is Seojoon being a fucking dick?
“I leave at six in the morning tomorrow, quite a few coworkers are joining on the trip. You sure you don’t wanna come? I can buy your ticket and everything.”
“Huh?”
Seojoon breaks you out of your silent thought, speaking of some trip you don’t remember discussing. You’re all over the place really, can’t seem to focus on a single thought at a time, and you kind of hate how he just brushed over the topic expecting you to accept what he said…
… even though you kinda did.
“Work trip to New York? For the fashion convention? It’s only for the weekend, I told you about it last month. You really should come.”
You blink at him, start to vaguely recall him telling you about a trip at some point. He invited you, and you declined because you thought you would be working. Also, you didn’t know how you felt about traveling with him at the time so you thought it was best he went on his own.
Funny how he so easily made you forget the problem at hand, isn’t it?
You realize you actually don’t work this weekend, which is rare. Weekends are normally busiest, all the couples and families come in on the weekends to get in their quality time. But you switched your shifts this weekend to Sohee, because she needed Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off to visit her parents unexpectedly.
Speaking of Sohee, you need to call her and fucking tell her what a mess you’re in. Later, though.
A trip to New York doesn’t sound terrible… you could use the mini vacation, especially after tonight. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want you there, and maybe this can warm you up to being his girlfriend, since that’s apparently a thing now. You’ve never really been one for impulsive decisions, but you decide this could be good for both of you. Maybe fate is throwing you a bone, freeing up your schedule like this.
Or maybe fate is fucking with you. You can never be too sure…
Going to New York would mean no chance of seeing flower boy, no reminders of him, just a complete distraction. That’s something you really need right now…
“And you’re sure it isn’t too much trouble? I mean, I don’t work like I thought I did, so I could come… but only if it isn’t too much trouble.”
You nibble your lower lip as you look down at him, and he side eyes you. Gives you the most sheepish look.
“Uh, well… no, no trouble at all considering I already bought a plane ticket for the seat next to mine… Don’t look at me like that! I did it just in case, and I don’t like sitting next to strangers so even if you didn’t come, I had a reason. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. Anyway, yes, please come.”
He gives you a sweet look, fights a laugh. He’s lying, of course. He always intended on you joining him, which is why he bought that second plane ticket… he would have convinced you last minute even if you said no.
You roll your eyes at him, not as irritated as you should be at the gesture because the more you think of a little weekend trip to New York, the more you get excited to get the fuck away for a while.
You reach over and tug his hair playfully, “Ugh, you’re ridiculous… but I’ll come, since you so kindly offered.”
He grins at you, locks his phone and gets more comfortable in the bed. Knowing you’re coming along, and actually seem to be excited about it, is relieving for him. He doesn’t need to do any extra work to coerce you into coming. He gets his way and you remain happy.
“That’s my girl. I’m gonna leave your place at like four, go home to grab my luggage. Taehyung is watching Simba for me. You can pack while I do that, you only need to pack enough to last until Monday.”
You nod at him, “Ok, that sounds good, but you should really take a nap… it’s late and you’ll be tired.”
“Mmm, yeah, guess I should… but I’ll just sleep on the plane. I’ll be fine, long flight.”
You’re thankful that you stay organized because it won’t take you long to pack. Your makeup is already in a bag, and you can just stuff your girly things in your toiletry travel bag… your room is still sort of messy from earlier, but that’s fine. You can pack some clothes quickly in the morning. You feel lighter at the thought that you’re getting to go away for a while, clear your head, so you can’t really find yourself too bothered or stressed at the moment.
As far as sleep, well… you’ve had many sleepless nights the last few months anyway, you’ll be fine as long as you nap on the plane. You’ll deal with the jet lag fine as long as Seojoon supplies you with caffeine.
He falls asleep quickly after that, seems to be at peace… because after you dropped the girlfriend issue, and agreed to go with him so easily, he felt he has no problems worth losing sleep over.
Must be real nice.
You lay back against your pillow and grab your phone, you’re about to search up things to do in New York… when you see a slew of Instagram notifications.
Your stomach fucking drops when you see the name of who has flooded your inbox with DM’s.
Jeon Photography… in other words, fucking Jungkook.
You reluctantly open the DM’s, fully prepared to block his work account.
But it doesn’t work out that way.
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Ok, so… you didn’t block him. You messaged him back. And he has your wallet.
You can argue that you messaged him back for that reason alone, you need your wallet to go to NY. And it seems to have worked out, you’ll get it in the morning.
But now, rather than being excited about your little trip, you are full of fucking conflict again. Because one, you have to see Jungkook. Two, Sena is apparently coming and you are pissed that Seojoon didn’t mention that to you. And three… you were fucking smiling at your phone while you messaged him. You liked it far too much.
While Seojoon is right beside you.
You know you shouldn’t be getting involved with Jungkook more than necessary, it isn’t right for several reasons. But, ugh, it was cute how he was acting all sweet and desperate for your attention. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to laugh at him purposely misspelling Seojoon’s name.
But, you gave none of that away. You need to put distance. You don’t want to let Sena ruin this trip for you, and you hope you don’t have to see her much. You need to try and calm down once again, can’t let this ruin yet another occasion you are supposed to be spending with Seojoon. Besides, you won’t have to see Jungkook long, you’ll grab your wallet and go.
And you swear you won’t message him again… even though you make no effort to block his Instagram. You don’t unblock his cell number either, though… so there’s that.
Although a bit giddy at his messages, you’re upset with him. Replay tonight’s events in your head as you try to sleep. The fucking shock of him being there, the passive aggressive comments made, the kiss, the declaration that he isn’t done with you, fucking Yoongi, the tea incident, fuck… all of it. And when you finally got it all off your mind, swept it under the rug, he messages you. Puts himself back in your head.
You need to sleep, not fret over Jeon Jungkook or the guilt that is now resurfacing with Seojoon sleeping soundly beside you.
You can worry about it another time. You can ignore how good it felt to be casually messaging him. You can pretend the kiss didn’t happen. You can refuse to see him after tomorrow.
Sweep it under the rug. Bury it in the dirt. He has no say in whether you’re done or not, and you are done. You swear you are done with him. Have been for a while…
That’s what you repeat to yourself, anyway, all the way until you fall asleep.
Silly girl… you never should have told him you were going on that work trip.
You wake up the next morning to Seojoon nudging you, mumbling something about leaving and packing quickly. Kisses you on the forehead before saying he will be back in 45 minutes to pick you up. You regret staying up late, because fuck, it is hard to get out of bed.
But you do. You don’t want to be late or miss this trip, not after last night. You barely think about the fact that that you must see Jungkook briefly today, you just wake up robotically. Coffee will help.
You go through the motions of taking out your dusty suitcase, throw in a bunch of clothes without really paying attention to what you’re packing. You’re sure it’s fine, you see underwear and bras, the clothes surrounding it looks fine enough. You grab your makeup bag, stuff it in, and then grab your travel toiletry bag and put all of the girly things inside before stuffing it in with the rest of your stuff.
You impulsively grab the polaroid camera you have and pack it with your stuff, think it’ll be nice to grab some photos of New York while you’re there. A little activity to create some memories.
After packing a few other mundane things, you get dressed. Decide to go comfy, put on an oversized sweater and some leggings, some sandals to go with it. You put your hair in a messy bun, and don’t bother to put on makeup because you’ll most likely be sleeping the entire way there anyway.
Time flies, of course. You’re tired as fuck, and judging by Seojoon’s grumpy face he is too when he arrives to get you. He helps you pack your luggage into his trunk and pats you on the back for being able to pack so quickly. He may look grumpy, but it seems he isn’t actually. He’s usually pretty sweet when in the mornings.
He stops to get you both a quick cup of coffee on the way to the airport, and you feel lighter already. You have a lot of shit to unpack mentally, but you are thankful that you said yes to this impromptu trip. You’ve never been to New York before, although you have been to the states a few times, New York was always one place you wanted to experience. Who better to experience it with than your new ‘boyfriend?’
When you arrive to the airport, Seojoon drops you off at the terminal with the luggage while he makes arrangements for the car. You wait patiently while sipping your coffee, sitting on one of the empty benches. People watching, seeing the plethora of strangers who all look different, you wonder where they’re coming from or going to. Its fascinating, really, knowing you’ll never see these people again, you like to imagine what they’re like anyway…
And then you see him.
No, not Seojoon, but Jungkook. And Sena. Sena looks fucking mean as she walks through the glass doors, and Jungkook looks far too chipper considering it is 5:15 in the fucking morning.
…why are they carrying so much luggage?
Its funny, how Jungkook immediately starts looking around, surely looking for you. He spots you quickly, and you swear you can see his invisible tail wag when his eyes land on you. He starts sprinting over carrying two big bags of luggage, while Sena pouts and trudges behind him while she drags another large bag. When he finally gets closer, he lowers his face mask and smiles so big that his eyes crinkle up and dimples pop out prominently.
Fuck.
You try to stay neutral, give them both a friendly smile as they approach.
“Hey. Good morning.”
Jungkook fucking grins, “Good morning sunshine.”
For fucks sake, it is too early for this.
You get up, set your coffee down next to the bags and awkwardly ask, “Umm, my wallet? Kinda need it to board the plane.”
He nods at you, digs into his pocket and pulls it out, his deep ass pockets in those comfy sweats you recognize far too well.
He also pulls out a passport… no, two passports… why two…?
He hands you the wallet, “Here, I kept it safe for you.”
He winks playfully, and Sena just rolls her eyes. Barely even looks at you as she mumbles, “So Seojoon brought you? Guess it’s a fucking couples trip now.”
“Hm?”
You blink at her confusedly. Her rude tone doesn’t really phase you, you were a bitch to her last night (although it was well deserved,) so you don’t expect her to be happy to see you. But what the fuck does she mean by couples trip? Is someone else bringing their significant other?
God, Jungkook has that shit eating grin again, and if you weren’t so tired you would have probably put two and two together by now.
“Oh, I decided to tag along. There’s a photography expo coincidentally, and I wanted to check it out.”
No fucking way.
You don’t say anything at first as you put the pieces together. Two passports, the large amount of luggage, Sena’s grumpy face, Jungkook’s happy fucking mood.
Did he do this on purpose?
He won’t admit it to you, but yeah, he absolutely did. The moment you said you were going to New York, he decided he would too. He didn’t lie completely, there really is a Photography expo being held, but that isn’t the reason he’s coming; that’s just his excuse. The reason he’s coming is… well, you. To be near you. To coax you into letting him back in.
This actually started a lot of shit with Sena. She was in a bitchy mood last night after leaving Taehyung’s house, tried arguing with Jungkook about so many different things. And this morning, he invited himself, which she fucking hated. To her, he was a burden, almost embarrassing to bring along. This was her fucking job, she didn’t need her manchild husband tagging along.
She tried to tell him no, but he also wasn’t having that. He didn’t fucking care. He told her he was coming and she could get the fuck over it, she didn’t even have to share a room with him if it was that big of a deal.
She latched onto that quickly, said she refused to share a room with him because she was planning on having colleagues over to discuss the fashion expo over drinks. Rented a fancy pent house like room just for that. He knows damn well that’s not normal, she shouldn’t be so hesitant to share a room with her own husband.
But again, he stopped caring a while ago. They don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, so it’s not that big of a deal to him. He has one goal in mind…
Be with his Aster. Even if it’s just as friends. He is determined to earn a place in your life again, and he hopes this trip will give him a chance to convince you to give him a chance.
You? Oh, you are in shambles, because this trip was literally supposed to get your mind off of him. Turns out, fate isn’t on your fucking side, fate really is just fucking with you.
Or maybe Jeon Jungkook is fucking with fate.
You nearly want to slap him, demand that he leaves. But you can’t. You have no proof that he did this in purpose, but your gut tells you that he did. He’s acting crazy, after a single night of seeing each other again, and he suddenly keeps popping up? Pushing you to communicate again?
He wasn’t lying when he said he isn’t done. He fucking meant that. In his perspective, this is a chance at redemption. He doesn’t know in what context, but fuck, you’re dating his wife’s coworker, who is also close friends with one of his best friends… it’s all connected.
It can’t be coincidence. He see’s it as a tragic gift, a fucked up second chance. He isn’t going to pass it up. Not until you explicitly say, ‘fuck off, I never want to see you or talk to you again.’
And you haven’t said that. You’ve told him to go away, but you’ve yet to seriously set the boundary.
Contradicting yourself, yet again…
It's at that moment that Seojoon shows up, places a hand on your back. Greets Sena politely, and then she informs him that Jungkook is joining as well. He makes some joke, too tired to feel some type of way about Jungkook coming along. But you aren’t paying attention, not really.
Because Jungkook is giving you those needy eyes again. Smile soft, eyes glittering with stars you were once so find off, skin almost glowing as if he just got laid.
He mouths at you ‘Unblock my number.’ And then fucking giggles.
Holy fuck. It is going to be a long weekend. You can’t catch a break, can you? Karma really is a bitch.
Karma or fate. Both you have grown to sincerely despise within the last 24 hours.
133 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
Note
Request: video gamer Steve who is very very private & constantly has competitions with his friends/followers. But one day he does & q&a and someone asks him about his ring/necklace (or something that is noticeable) & he talks about his partner. & Eddie who is a well known musician who talks about his partner Steve. And somehow their fans put it together that Steddie are together. Then they do a really cute q&a on Steve's channel all about their relationship & its really cute
MY LOVE!!! Honestly, if Liam didn't watch so many gamers on YouTube, I would be so clueless. I never got into video games (because I'm so so bad at them you guys it is actually embarrassing) and I never really watched streamers on YouTube or anything. But I know that some of them have like a cult following and so I am picturing Steve to be one of those here. Please don't ask what games he would play because this is a choose your own adventure part of the story. - Mickala ❤️
-----------------------------------------------------
Everyone made fun of Steve for how much he talked with his hands. Even on camera, his hands were constantly in the frame, moving and emphasizing his passion for whatever game he was playing for that stream.
He should have realized that wearing a ring on his usually bare hands would have given him away.
It was his first livestream competition since Eddie proposed on their trip to the Maldives.
He was still a little high off of, well, everything, and he wasn’t thinking clearly.
He ignored the first question that popped up.
who got you that ring?
He shared some basic personal stuff with his fans and followers, but he kept most things private, especially his relationship.
But then questions kept coming in.
R U ENGAGED???
usually the girl wears the ring right
If you’re taken I might have to unsubscribe
The last one made him pause.
It’s not like he was an idiot, he knew that there would always be a handful of people who followed him because he was attractive. He didn’t mind, especially because some of them would message him and explain that they ended up getting into games because of him.
“Okay, wait. Sorry guys. Um. I wanna address something before we start the actual stream.” He held his hand up, looking over at the ring Eddie proposed with. “I share a lot with you guys. I came out about a year ago during a stream as bisexual, and it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock, but it caused a bit of a…thing.” He grimaced. “And I guess most of the reason that I came out then was because my boyfriend had come out as well, and it felt like something we could do together without actually doing it together. Most of you know I was just gone for a week on a much needed vacation. I was with my boyfriend, and he proposed while we were there. I said yes because he is the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend my life with.”
Steve put his hand down, sighing.
“I understand if that makes some of you unfollow me, but I do hope you look at yourself and try to come to terms with why that is what makes you unfollow someone you enjoy watching. Anyways, the ring is beautiful, and it's a simpler version of one he wears every day, so it means even more.”
He felt relieved, but also a little stressed, and knew he’d be calling Eddie as soon as this was over to talk to him about everything.
“Let’s get gaming!” He gave his best smile to the camera.
—-------------------------------------
“Yeah, we had a nice week off together, alone, and I finally got to propose. I don’t think we left the bed for 24 hours after that,” Eddie laughed.
The interviewer laughed too, used to Eddie’s jokes and blunt answers.
“I’m glad you got to spend some time just the two of you. This has been a busy world tour for you and Corroded Coffin and you’re only halfway through!” The interviewer, Hannah, stated. She smiled at him when he nodded. “Anything new planned for the second half of the tour?”
“We can’t give out secrets, Hannah, you know that,” Eddie smirked. “But Gareth did say I should tell you about one thing.”
Gareth definitely had a crush on Hannah and had pouted endlessly about being scheduled for a different interview at the same time as Eddie’s interview with her.
“Oh?” she leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
She maybe had a crush on him, too.
“He actually wrote a song that’ll be on our next album. He doesn’t usually get bit with the writing bug, but someone’s inspired him,” he winked at her, smiling at her blush. “Anyway, it’s been added to the setlist for the second leg of the tour and we’re all really excited for everyone to hear it.”
Eddie felt his phone vibrating in his pocket multiple times. All the guys knew he was in an interview and couldn’t answer a call, so who the hell was calling him?
It was easy enough to ignore through Hannah’s next question, until it started again.
He reached in his pocket and checked to see who it was, eyes going wide when he saw ‘Stevie’ with a picture of them on their vacation lighting up his screen.
Steve never called twice in a row unless it was an emergency. He knew if Eddie didn’t answer, he was truly busy.
He felt his heart racing as he looked back up at Hannah, who instantly seemed to catch on to something happening.
“We’re going to a commercial break, but when we’re back, Eddie’s gonna share a few hints about the next album!” Hannah said, immediately shutting the mics off and gesturing for him to get up.
Eddie took off his headphones and stood, walking out of the room as he answered the phone.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, I just-”
“Hey, no, it’s not bothering me. I was just in a radio interview with Hannah so we had to cut to commercial break before I could answer. What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that something terrible had happened.
“Fuck, I forgot that was right now. I’m sorry. Call me back when you get to the bus,” Steve seemed like he was trying to rush off the phone.
“No, Stevie, wait. What’s wrong?” his tone was firm enough to let Steve know he wasn’t going to let this drop.
“Um. I just had a livestream thing. And like, people asked about the ring, so I told them I was engaged and some people just didn’t take it that well and then I went online and some people have apparently put it together that the Steve you talk about is me because of something I mentioned about my vacation and something you posted about the vacation and so I think everyone’s gonna know and I’m sorry,” Steve was panting by the end, speaking a million miles an hour literally taking the breath from him.
“Okay, well, we knew this would probably happen eventually, my love. I’ll just call the guys and we can talk to Chrissy about it if it gets picked up by the media. No reason to panic,” Eddie tried to calm him down while watching through the window to the recording booth where Hannah seemed to be introducing a song to kill more time.
“But I ruined our plan!”
“No, love. People ruined our plan. And it’s okay, anyway. We’ll figure it out.”
“But your fans will be mad that it’s me. I’m just…me!”
“You’re not just anything and any fan of mine who says or thinks that, isn’t a fan,” Eddie sighed. “I love you, and we will figure this out. Whatever we gotta do, okay?”
Steve let out a long breath before responding.
“I love you too. Tell Hannah I said hi?”
“Of course. I love you so much, okay? ‘Til death and beyond.”
Steve let out a small laugh.
“You’re not allowed to use those lyrics in the vows. But I love you so much, too.”
“We can discuss that later. I wrote you a very metal love song that I fully intend to use some of in the vows. Okay, bye!”
He hung up before Steve could argue and walked back into the studio, mouthing an apology to Hannah, who just waved it off with a smile.
Everything would be fine.
—-------------------------------------------
“The lighting isn’t ideal, but it’ll be fine,” Steve was pacing, double checking his set up while Eddie watched.
He tried helping, but kept being told not to touch things, so he ended up just sitting on the hotel bed.
Steve had traveled halfway across the country to do this, his stress was at an all-time high, and Eddie didn’t need to get his head bitten off.
“Five minutes,” Steve said, shaking his hands nervously.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Eddie said, waving him over to the bed.
“No, you’ll distract me.”
“Yes, which is exactly what you need for a minute. Come here.”
Steve sighed, but went over to him, dropping onto the bed and resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder.
“What’s got you so worried?”
“Everything.”
Eddie sighed.
“But specifically.”
“I just don’t want you or the guys to lose fans because of me,” Steve was playing with the edges of the hole in Eddie’s jeans absentmindedly.
“Sweet boy, we lose fans because we endorse a certain amp brand over another. We’ll be fine.”
“This is bigger, though. I’m just a nobody who got lucky on YouTube playing some games,” Steve whined.
“And I loved you before that. If they don’t want me to be happy, they aren’t real fans anyway. You’re my future, not whatever woman still thinks she has a shot with my gay ass,” Eddie said.
“But it isn’t just you who suffers.”
“None of us suffer. We lose some homophobic, idiotic fans who shouldn’t ever have claimed to be fans at all. None of us want people like that around.”
Steve’s alarm went off to signal one minute before the livestream started.
He jumped up and pulled Eddie up with him.
They’d already gone over everything together, discussed it with Chrissy and the guys, even Steve’s manager, Robin, about how this would work.
Steve would pretty much act like it was any other livestream, but Eddie would be there for the first five minutes or so so they could do a quick explanation of things.
Eddie would do a phone interview with Hannah in 30 minutes while Steve was gaming, covering a bit more and answering some questions about their relationship.
Then they’d both have a night off to decompress in the hotel before Steve had to fly back home and Eddie had to head to the next tour stop.
Hopefully, the buzz would die down relatively quickly.
Steve did his normal intro, but Eddie’s hand rested on his knee out of sight, squeezing once when he heard his voice start to shake a little while introducing Eddie.
“There’s been some rumors about us, and we just wanna be completely honest about things so that the rumors stop,” Steve continued. “First of all, we’ve been together for almost four years. Way before I got anywhere with YouTube, before Corroded Coffin had even released their first album. And we were friends long before that.”
“Even though I had the biggest crush on him in high school, I didn’t admit I was in love with him until we both moved to Chicago. Wasted years,” Eddie shook his head.
“Second,” Steve smirked, looking over at him for a moment. “The week off in the middle of his tour had been planned for Jeff to go home and be with his family for his wife’s birthday and daughter’s graduation.”
“Anyone who thinks Steve threw a fit about needing a vacation and made the band take a break is just saying so out of spite that we had to move around one of the tour dates to make the week off work. It’s not up to you to come up with a narrative,” Eddie added, brow raised like he was chastising children.
“And finally, most importantly, what either of us choose to share is up to us. We do not owe anyone any explanations. Our relationship is ours. Being public figures already takes away a lot of our autonomy, and this is something neither of us will budge on. We are willing to share our happiness, but we are not willing to let everyone become a part of our life together.”
Sometimes, Steve said things in such a way that Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare at him in awe. He loved him more than anything, and sometimes the only thing he could do was kiss him.
He did so now, not exactly forgetting they were live streaming, just not really caring.
Steve tensed for a second, but then relaxed, cupping his cheek and smiling into the kiss.
Eddie pulled away and looked back at the camera.
“On that note, I’m gonna leave Steve here to his gaming. If you aren’t nice, I’ll ban you from Corroded Coffin shows for life,” he waved before standing and leaving the camera’s view.
Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly as Eddie walked out of the bedroom, blowing kisses back at Steve the entire way.
—-------------------------------------------
After that, Eddie made random appearances on Steve’s live streams, and Steve flew out to a handful of shows to support Eddie.
It’s not that they were hiding before, but they just hadn’t felt like they should have to try to.
Now they didn’t.
Steve even did a Q&A with the band on tour while playing games with them.
They were all pretty terrible at it, complaining most of the time about how D&D was so much easier than this. Eddie didn’t play, but he sat next to Steve and braided his hair while he kicked their asses, asking them all the questions that popped up from people watching.
When he got to one for him, he smiled and kissed the top of Steve’s head.
“This question is for me. How did you know Steve was the one?” The guys all groaned, but they were smiling. “Well, I knew he was the one back in my first senior year. I tripped on the step into the gym and Steve was the only one there. He helped me up and smiled at me, and I was a goner.”
“He’s lying to you all,” Steve said without looking away from the game. “He knew when I made him homemade banana bread. His exact words were, ‘I’m gonna marry you so hard someday, Harrington.’ and then six months later he proposed.”
“Both can be true,” Eddie pouted.
Steve paused the game and turned to him, kissing the tip of his nose.
“Every moment I have with you proves you’re the one for me,” he said before turning back to the game and leaving Eddie silently shocked.
“This is the last time we come on this thing, Steve,” Gareth said.
“Yeah. You broke him,” Jeff agreed.
445 notes · View notes
ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 10 months
Note
omg yes i have a smut req for hbo!joel :)
so u and joel are out and about in jackson one night and joel notices a lot of the guys staring at you at the bar… u havent made your relationship public yet, but you’ve been on his arm all evening. the second you step away from him to get another drink, some guy approaches you & tries to get u to dance with him. joel immediately walks towards him and cusses him out (or something…) & he doesnt tell u he got jealous until youre in the bathroom of the establishment with joel talking dirty in your ear & showing u how youre his <3 (sry if this was alot but thats just an idea, u can change it however u want!)
༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 || 𝐡𝐛𝐨!𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫
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― pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
― summary: even though your relationship with joel was unlabeled, everyone knew that you were his girl, but when a man hits on you at the bar, joel figures he may have to step it up a notch.
― warnings: jealousy, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, possesive!joel, marking, biting, heavy dirty talk (joel's filthy mouth), unprotected sex (don't be like them), cumming inside, lowkey breeding kink but not really, jealous sex, mirror sex, kissing, making out, light breast play, fluff at the end because I can't help myself, some random dude creepin for plot.
― wc: 1933
⇾ a/n: HOLY MOLY IS THIS A HEFTY ONE. i think with every smut i post the word count grows little by little. surprisingly this has a little plot but honestly not really, plus this is my first fanfic of joel so please let me know if he's in character or not because i hate when my favs aren't themselves. anyways i had fun with this big boy, so untiI i post again, see ya and i hope you enjoy!
masterlist | AO3
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Joel never had to worry about jealousy while being out on the road, and even when you had resided in the QZ, he hadn’t really had to worry about it there either, because everyone there was mostly just trying to survive, but in Jackson, people had time to live, and to love, and to lust.
It was still all so foreign to Joel despite having been in Jackson for a little over two months now, Joel, you, and Ellie sharing a house with one another across from Tommy & Maria. Tonight was one of those rare nights where Ellie decided that she wanted to spend time with kids her own age, a group of girls in her class having a sleepover at one of their places. Joel was a little apprehensive about it, but the promise of spending time alone with you was too good to pass up, and he knew that Ellie could take care of herself if need be.
So, that’s how you landed here at the Tipsy Bison all dolled up, sitting next to Joel with your fingers intertwined with his, sitting proudly in the view of any onlookers. Joel watched you with stars in his eyes as you laughed at whatever Tommy had said, even as Maria looked at the man with slightly amused embarrassment written all over her face, the table the four of you sat at was bursting with energy. You hid your wide smile behind the rim of your glass cup, taking a sip of your whisky and gazing at the couple across from you. 
Joel couldn’t remember the last time you were this laid back, your walls had become practically nonexistent. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable because you knew that you were safe, that you finally could stop worrying about your family; about the man that had no label yet, about the smart mouthed girl that you had slowly begun to consider your daughter, although the titles went unspoken, they were there.
You went to take another sip of your drink when you realized you had in fact drained it empty. With a fuzzy head and a disbelieving giggle, you let go of Joel’s hand and made your way to stand up. 
“Where ya goin’?” You heard Joel ask from over the country music that was blaring through the bars’ speakers. “To get more to drink.” He stood up, attempting to take the glass of quickly melting ice out of your hand. “Let me.” You pushed him back down into his seat gently. “I’ll be fine, babe.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“Be right back.” 
You disappeared into the sea of people, which was surprisingly a lot. You don’t know how many times you had said, ‘excuse me’ or ‘pardon me’ before you had finally reached the bar. 
“Hi! Could I get a glass of literally any kind of whiskey you have?” You asked the bartender with a sheepish smile. “Sure thing!” You went to say ‘thank you’ when someone tapped you on your shoulder. You jumped a bit in surprise but nonetheless turned around.
There was a man standing there with a smirk, his eyes eating up your front side as they raked themselves from top of your body down to the tip of your heels. He was younger than Joel, probably around your age, dark hair with a nasty looking 6 o'clock shadow. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but the man perceived it as flustered squirming. 
“Howdy.” The man greeted with a wink. You cringed a bit; it was only hot when Joel said it.
“Hey…” Your greeting was awkward, your eyes quickly searching for a way out. What was taking the bartender so long? “I just so happened to see you here all alone and figured I’d try to be the lucky guy you took home tonight.” He flirted. You took a step back when he took a step forward, your back hitting a bar stool. “Oh uh- I’m actually-”
“What’s goin’ on here, sugar?” The voice of Joel piped up from behind the man, and the geezer turned around to look at him. “I was just telling him that I was here with you, and I had to come back to the table.” Just then the bartender placed your glass on the bartop. 
“Sorry for the wait.” He apologized before taking off to tend to another patron. You gave him a grateful smile before he left and grabbed your drink, but not before Joel was grabbing you by your hand and slowly leading you around the man’s body protectively. 
His grip was tight all the way to the… restroom? 
“Joel.” You called out his name but he didn’t respond, simply leading you through the unisex bathroom door, shutting and locking the door behind the both of you when you got inside. You set the liquor on the bathroom counter before standing there anxiously, watching his back muscles tense under his shirt as he rested both palms of his hands on the door.
“Joel?” You call even quieter this time.
“Was he hittin’ on ya?” He murmured darkly. You gulped nervously but softly saying, “Yes.” He turned his head to look at you, his body never leaving the door. “And did ya like it?” Your eyes widened, “What?” You asked breathlessly but also in offense. “I said,'' He finally approaches you, his strong chest mere inches from your soft one. “Did ya like it?”
There was something in his voice that forced a shiver down your spine, his eyes burning into your soul, a fiery light shining within his beautiful brown eyes. His big hand wrapped around your neck, gently squeezing your airway as he walked you backwards, your lower eventually back graced the edge of the counter.
“No.” You heaved breathlessly. “I didn’t like it.” He hummed. Lowering his head, lips brushing up against yours, never quite joining them together. “‘Cause yer my girl, aren’t ya?” His right hand that was gripping your neck descended down your side, squeezing at the fat of your waist before resting under the hem of your dress. “Yeah- ‘m always been your girl.” You whimpered. He smirked, “That’s right. Ever since I met ya, ya’ve been mine. ‘Got my name written all over ya sweetheart.” He finally kissed you, his mouth devouring yours with such fervor that it stole your breath right from your lungs.
Your fingers busied themselves in his gray hair, pulling on the strands to deepen the kiss. He slipped a knee between your legs, the material of his dark blue jeans brushing against your damp sex that was only covered by your underwear. You moaned, exposing your neck to him, which he was quick to take advantage of, biting down so hard that it hurt; you knew what he was doing, he was making sure that a mark was going to be left behind, that when you left this bathroom the bruise would scream the words ‘she’s mine.’ The thought of him being almost territorial of you made you needier, digits leaving his hair to frantically try and unbutton his pants.
He stopped your frantic touches, his hands enveloped yours. He stared into your widened eyes, and your irises were blown out with lust. 
“Turn around sweet-pea.” He murmured. “Okay.” You did as he said. 
You watched him work behind you through the mirror, his upper body slightly jolting as he shoved his pants down to release just his cock and balls. Your nails scratched at the hardness of the counter, body tensing up like a cat when you felt him shove your dress up to sit on your wide hips. He pressed his body against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your ass. A shiver shot down your spine at the weight of him.
“Joel…” You mewled. “What do ya need, baby?” He kissed along the column of your throat all the way up to the shell of your ear, teasing you. Baiting you. “Fuck me, please. Show them that I’m yours Joel, make them see how good you fucked me.” He growled, his timbre voice prickling at your veins, plucking at them like the strings on his guitar.
He snatched your underwear down your thighs, pushing you forward by your lower back to make it easier to line himself up. He teased your wet slit with his tip, swiping it up and down before finally settling and pushing in. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet as his dick stretched you out, filling you with a pleasurable pain that made your knees weak.
“Fuck.” Joel groaned from behind you. He held you tightly, the plush of your hips spilling through his fingers, giving him a better grip. He hadn’t given you a moment to get used to him, simply pulling out before slamming back into you, sending your body jolting forwards.
His thrusts were brutal as he fucked in and out of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every punch of his hips. With his left hand still on your body, the other slithered up your body, pulling the front of your dress down so your braless breasts spilled out. It was the end of the world for god sakes, who had the time for bras anymore?
“Such pretty tits, sugar.” He said crudely, groping your right breast roughly. You cried out, throwing caution to the wind and allowing your hand to fall and grip the counter for stability.
“‘Feels so good, Joel. So fucking good.” You moaned. “Now, now honey. We can’t be havin’ other people hearin’ them beautiful sounds now, can we?” He cooed. You shook your head no, and that’s when he wrapped his right arm completely around your front, holding you back and covering your mouth with his left. You were left completely at his mercy, to use you how he pleased. 
That’s when something seemed to snap within him at the sight of your helplessness, pistoning into you with the renewed vigor of a mad man. You didn’t even bother to try and keep your noise down, the wet squelching resounding throughout the fairly sized restroom was enough to make your shame pretty much disappear.
“‘Gonna cum.” Your cry was muffled but he understood you nonetheless. I mean, how couldn’t he? He felt the way you clenched around him, your cunt sucking him in greedily like it couldn’t get enough of him. 
“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” He teased. You nodded fastly, pleas spilling out of your mouth and onto deaf ears. “That’s right. ‘Cause that stupid kid wouldn’t have even known how’ta make ya feel good. Bet he wouldn’t even know where to start. That’s okay, ‘cause ya’ve got me to take care of ya.” His dirty words drove you to your end.
“Fuck. Ya gonna let me cum in ya?” He asked, always the southern gentleman. You nodded again.
He worked the both of you to your ends, squeezing you until you finally came, stars shining behind your eyelids as they squeezed shut. Even as he worked you through your orgasm, he crashed into his own, painting your walls white. There was a moment of silence of you two catching your breaths, his arms falling from your body to resettle on your hips where he laid his forehead on your back.
“I’m totally wearing this dress again.” Was all you could say.
“Like hell you are.” He grumbled, pulling a bubbling laugh from your chest.
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juyeonszn · 7 months
Text
POISON IN MY MIND
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PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 5.54k
GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise
SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?
MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.
Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.
Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.
You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.
It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.
You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.
Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.
He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.
You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.
“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”
You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.
“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.
“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.
You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“
Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.
“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.
Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.
“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.
“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”
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This was horrible.
You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.
When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.
There was nothing he couldn’t do.
Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.
To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.
You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.
All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.
Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.
“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.
The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?
The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.
“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.
“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”
Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.
Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.
“Mr. Lee!”
You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.
“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.
You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.
The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.
You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.
[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.
[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in
Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.
Reluctantly, you give in.
[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there
You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.
Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.
“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”
“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.
“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.
“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”
“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…
“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.
“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”
“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.
He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”
“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”
Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”
You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.
“W-What are you talking about?”
Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”
“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.
“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”
You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.
“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”
And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)
In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.
“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”
You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.
So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.
He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.
He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.
Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?
The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.
“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.
He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.
You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”
Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.
“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.
“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.
He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.
Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.
When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?
“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”
You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.
His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.
Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.
You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.
Okay, now let’s resume.
“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.
“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”
Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.
You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?
“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”
He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”
“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.
You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.
Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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katstarry · 3 months
Text
anything
eddie munson x reader
masterlist ☆
summary: moments shared with eddie throughout your friendship, up until his death.
warnings: ANGST! 😱 mentions of death.
guys i haven’t written in a while and this song has been on repeat this week so this is just something i had an idea of so i’m sorry if it sucks!!! hope u enjoy :)
feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆
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inspired by anything by adrianne lenker!
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it was a summer day and you had just graduated high school.
the day was sunny and hot—a perfect day for going to the local pool.
eddie and you agreed to meet there, it was his idea, wanting to spend some time with you after the ceremony before you had to celebrate with your family.
this would be his second time not graduating.
“eddie don’t beat yourself up over this, i’m sure that next year you’ll be walking that stage. and i’ll be there cheering you on.”
as you both make your way to the pool entrance, he looks over with you with an eyebrow raised.
“don’t give me that look! i mean it.” you give him a playful shove.
“mrs. o’donnell is always on my ass, i doubt that’ll change next year,” he sighed, “plus, it’ll be less fun without you there.”
he wraps an arm over your shoulders as you both make your way to a pair of empty chairs, settling your belongings down onto them.
you had brought some sliced fruit, drinks, sunscreen, and of course a towel.
“y’know i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, we can still see each other as much as we want this summer.” you finish putting down your things and sit on the edge of the chair, applying on sunscreen.
you look over at eddie who’s on his own chair beside your own, “yeah, but what if you change your mind about staying in hawkins? you should be doing bigger things than staying in this dump.”
he looks away from you and leans his head back onto the chair, playing with a strand of hair.
meanwhile, you open the container you had brought with the sliced fruit, eat a piece of apple, and pass the container to eddie. the thought of leaving hawkins was constant, who wouldn’t want to leave after seeing the things that you’ve seen? yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, one of the reasons being right beside you.
“i’ll just study here at the community college, see where that takes me. then, who knows what’ll happen?”
leaning back onto your own chair, you look over at eddie. his hair has begun to stick onto his skin from the heat, his loose shirt slightly slipping from his shoulder, the sunlight shining just right, enough for him to look as if he’s glowing.
he turns to look at you, smiling, “you’ll be out in some big city, doing whatever the hell you want! maybe we could even be roommates, like we’ve talked about.”
he grabs a piece of mango and takes a bite, excess juice dripping.
you smile, “yeah that’d be really nice. but for right now, i’m happy where i’m at.”
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that year during the end of summer and towards the end of fall, you had your first boyfriend.
the relationship was not super long, and it never felt like there was much progress. he’d take you out to dates, he’d do everything right.
yet there was no true connection. it’s something you realize after the break up. you’d call each other—but no conversation ever had much depth.
but, when you were both together physically, you felt comfortable, you felt wanted. the cuddling, the kissing, you loved all of the relationship related things, and it made you believe you did love him.
it came crashing down when you saw him out with another girl, you were walking out a local coffee shop with robin when you spotted him. his arm linked with hers, no shame as he leaned over to kiss her, smiling.
it’s what lead you breaking down later that day in eddie’s trailer.
you had planned hanging out with him anyways. your now ex knew about your close friendship with eddie and he never seemed to really care. you realize that he never really cared about many things.
trying to act casual after your discovery and confrontation, you should’ve known better. eddie could see right through your act. be it the way you seemed less talkative, less enthusiastic, he knew something was up. he somehow always does.
he was telling a joke, trying to make you feel better—and you love his jokes, even if they’re the cringiest or stupidest ever, you always laugh or make some sarcastic remark—when he finishes telling his joke, you laughed, which made him smile.
both sitting on the couch, he laid his arm behind where you sat, pulling one of his legs up and turning to face you.
“sooo.. you wanna talk about it?”
you turn to him, your face written with confusion, “talk about what?”
“something’s obviously bothering you. and iiii do not like that.” he tilted his head, softly smiling.
“ah, how did you know?” you give him a small smile and look up to his ceiling, letting your head hit the cushions of the couch.
you see him shrug his shoulders from the corner of your eye, “i just know.”
the tears start to form before you even register it happening, and you tell him what happened.
and he’s there, like he always is. he holds you, let’s you cry to him about your ex. not knowing how much he hurts seeing you like this over a douchebag who didn’t deserve you to begin with.
he rubs your back, attempting to calm you down. you hadn’t realized you were clinging onto him, you pull back and just opt to laying your head onto his shoulder, a few start tears falling. he wipes them away and you close your eyes, feeling his hands soothe you.
that’s when you knew.
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it all happened too quick, so suddenly.
one moment you were at the basket ball game, cheering lucas on.
the next eddie was on the run for supposed murder.
and now he was laying in front of you, on the ground.
dustin was kneeled with you, but the ringing in your ears blocking everything else out. all you could see was blood and all you could hear was your ragged breathing.
soon, your vision became blurry, tears clouding your vision. in one quick moment, you were back to the present. a shout. someone was yelling, you look in front of you and you see dustin crying, eddie on his lap.
you reach for eddie’s hand, intertwining it with your own, the other wiping tears away from his face. it was now your turn to wipe away his tears, but you would’ve preferred it to be over some girl, rather than it be because of what’s to come.
his hand is already startling cold, yet you still feel him tighten his hold on you.
“eddie, you gotta keep breathing alright? we’re gonna get you out of here. dustin! we have to get him out of here!” you look over at dustin, who heard you and you both move to get up, but eddie stops you both.
“no. no—” he momentarily chokes on his own blood that gathered in his mouth. he doesn’t let go of your hand and grabs dustin’s before he could get up.
“what do you mean no?!” you cry, moving to get up again.
“s-stop! there’s no,” he gulps, “no way i’ll be able to—” he coughs, blood splattering as he does so, you use the sleeve of your shirt to shakily clean his chin, “make it.”
he looks at you, and that’s when you see. that’s when you see he’s not changing his mind, he’s not going to let you and dustin pull him back.
a part of you knows, the logical part of you, that he won’t be able to make it. that it’ll be too late by the time you pull him back home.
so you cry, you cling to him. dustin cradles eddie’s head on his lap once again, you both cling to him.
“please. please don’t.” you say between sobs, your head on his chest, his heart beat still present, your hand still in his.
he doesn’t reply, he can’t. blood blocks him from saying anything else, so he brings your intertwined hands shakily up to his lips, kissing your hand. you bring your head up to look at him, and that’s when you knew.
that’s when you knew, everything was reciprocated. you don’t know how, but you did.
you both just know each other too well, but apparently not this.
he looked at you and attempted to smile, the three of you crying. already grieving what’s to come and what could’ve been.
you shake your head, “this isn’t fair! you never should’ve been a part of any of this mess! i—i tried so hard, so hard to keep you away from all of this. but it wasn’t enough.”
laying your head back onto his chest, you feel his free hand move to your back. the familiar feeling of him soothing you, rubbing your back, making you cry harder.
then suddenly, it all stopped.
it’s like time stopped all at once.
the movements on your back were gone, the soft heartbeat had stopped.
you could’ve sworn that in that moment, yours had too.
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junggunz · 10 months
Text
WANT U ft. samuel seo | 🔞
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summary: you finally call it quits for real after realizing your relationship with samuel was too turbulent to handle in the long run. but even after breaking up, it seems like you don't want to completely remove him from your life.
cw: samuel x fem bodied!reader | SMUT | cautious dubcon warning because reader and sammy have both been drinking | tiny crumb of plot | established relationship | toxic relationship dynamics | angsty | poor coping mechanisms | public sex (in an alley lmfao) | p in v | creampie | all characters featured are 18+
wc: 3.2k
an: killing two birds with one stone. part two of my silly little song fic series. i forgot when it was requested tbh but i had an anon who wanted a scenario that included reader being pressed against a wall aka 壁ドン lol i hope you don't mind i picked samuel over gun- anywho here's the playlist that goes with this series.
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"Been waiting for so long to finally be strong but here you are."
It had been several months since the two of you split yet Samuel was sending you texts every so often to see what you were up to; almost as if he was checking to see if the heart he broke was still shattered on the floor where he left it. 
The peak low point of your breakup was when he would drunk text and call you every weekend, insisting that he regrets his actions. Unsure if he meant it or if he was just talking out of his ass, you still gave him the time of day because you were just as fucked in the head as Samuel; you honestly liked the idea of him missing you and begging you for clemency even though you knew you wouldn’t take him back. 
All of the vehement screaming matches. Fits of jealousy from both of you. Playing the blame game. Giving each other the cold shoulder rather than apologizing. And the worst part of it all was that the two of you could never see eye to eye long enough to be able to work through these trivial things. Every single petty argument just had to turn into an exchange of obscenities and questioning the other’s intelligence. Though the relationship was highly volatile, there was a mutual understanding that you both cared about one another and held some deep rooted insecurities; but that excuse wouldn’t cut it if you two were to be together for the long run. 
As much as you wanted things to work out, you couldn’t beg Samuel to change. You were too busy trying to sort out your own emotional baggage; the last thing you wanted to do was try to get someone else to realize the error in their ways if they wouldn’t even listen to you or always remained taciturn during conversations and made you feel like you were talking to yourself. 
Desultory attempts at dating around later on and trying to take your mind off of Samuel prove to be futile as you find yourself feeling more hollow than usual. Perhaps you weren’t as healed as you thought; craving the emotional intensity Samuel pursued you with from the start couldn’t have possibly been healthy. 
Even with all the stupid fights you got into, he never failed to make you feel wanted. And on top of that, the make up sex was good enough to make you forget why you argued in the first place.  
“Isn’t that your ex?” Your friend whispers to you while your little clique was out at a tiny little pub, enjoying some soju and various drinking foods. 
“The joke was funny the first couple times, but it’s getting old now.” You say dismissively with a small laugh— but you find your bleary eyes darting around anyway— to verify whether or not she was taking advantage of the fact you were drunk and trying to mess with your head.
But lo and behold, you spot him at a table by himself. It was inevitable that you would run into him at least once given how small the city seemed sometimes. What’s more surprising is how he doesn’t have any company to share the gold colored tin kettle presumably filled with makgeolli and the few bottles of soju in front of him. 
You recognize the sullen expression he wears on his face as the look of contemplation. Conflicting emotions start to argue for a spot in your mind. One part of you was pleased to see him looking so miserable; the other feeling the urge to comfort him since enough time had passed for you to forget you said you hated him. 
Though you know very well that if you approached him now, there was a fifty-fifty chance of you getting into an argument with him; you can’t help yourself when you abandon the table you sat at with your friends to fill the empty seat across from Samuel. You had consumed enough alcohol to be able to dismiss this as a drunken mistake; but you know exactly what you’re doing.
“Sammy, you shouldn’t be drinking like this by yourself.” You call to him, your tone coming out more affectionate than you intended. But, oh well—you could blame it on the alcohol if he called you out for it. 
Lifting his eyes to look at you sitting before him, his face doesn’t light up the same way it used to whenever you would speak to him. Right after your breakup, he always appeared just fine when he showed up to your doorstep drunk out of his mind. It seemed that now, the realization that things were actually over had kicked in and drained all life from his face.  
“It’s not your place to be concerned about what I’m up to.” He tells you somberly, averting his gaze to the half empty bowl of makgeolli in front of him and reaching for the kettle to refill it. 
“You used to be really adamant about trying to talk to me. I’m giving you the chance now and you’re gonna be cold to me?” You ask, feigning offense and pouting slightly. 
“It’s loud as hell in here. If you wanna talk, we can talk somewhere else.” Samuel replies, swiftly standing up from the metal chair then making his way over to your side of the table to grab you by the arm; lifting you up from your seat and dragging you off to who knows where. Stumbling haphazardly behind him, you find yourself outside in the dimly lit alley between the pub and the business next to it. 
“Why are you talking to me now? Could you sense that things were going to shit for me or something?” The sharpness in Samuel’s voice alone was enough to make you flinch. 
When paired with him glaring at you as he backs you up against the  wall, caging you in his arms, it has your body instinctively shrinking from how intimidating his demeanor is. But you’re not actually scared of him. Not in the least bit. His tall height and all that ink covered muscle means nothing to you when you know how frail his ego is. If you really wanted to, you could devastate him with just a couple words. 
“Oh, so you can bug me for months on end when I’m trying to get over you but I can’t return the favor?” You scoff with a slight roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “I just happened to see you tonight and wanted to make sure you were alright.” 
“Weren’t you the one who said you hated me and wished I got launched off into space?” He retorts with a dry laugh. “You’re so—”
“I know what I said and I meant it in that moment. Now, things are a little different because I’ve calmed down.” You cut him off, knowing very well that it was one of his pet peeves. 
Jaw clenching in frustration from how easily you get under his skin, Samuel bangs his fist against the wall behind you to relieve some of the agitation boiling up within him. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears from how agitated he was getting. If you had been someone else, you would have gotten a full ashtray to the face or a swift kick in the gut. However, as the soft spot he had for you hadn’t completely faded away, he can’t bring himself to tell you off for the minor infraction. Even with him knowing that you interrupted him on purpose. 
“What are you trying to accomplish right now? Pissing me off? Making up with me? What do you want?” Samuel fires off, voice rough and impatient as he stares at you; his eyes trailing from your face down the familiar silhouette of your body. 
“If you look at me like that, you’re gonna make me think about other things.” You tell him, a stupefied giggle falling past your lips while you gaze up suggestively at him. 
Samuel’s eyes shoot right back up to look at your face, the ditzy smile on your face telling him all that he needs to know about where your head is. Hands slipping from the walls, they land on your shoulders to press you firmly against the structure behind you.
“Yeah? Have you been thinking about how no one is gonna be able to fuck you like I can?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Because I think that’s the only reason why you would speak to me again.” 
The truth is harsh and it sounds even more brutal when Samuel says it out loud. Knowing you too well, there’s no reason for you to lie to him unless you want to get into a verbal altercation with him and sour your currently elated mood. 
“Please? Just for old time’s sake.” You plead him cutely, batting your lashes at him while your fingers skitter along the hem of his pants. “I haven’t slept with anyone since we broke up.” You confess, knowing that the admission would at least tempt him into giving in.
Mulling over your words for a bit, Samuel’s eyes bore into yours. He’s uncertain. He doesn’t know if he would be able to feel satisfied with just one more night with you. He’s always been easily enticed by you; with the addition of alcohol gently fogging his judgment, that feeling is magnified at least a hundred times. Self restraint is usually something Samuel doesn’t struggle with. But the memory of how wet and warm your body felt around him has his control wavering. 
All it takes to get to him is you making the first move, closing the distance between your faces until he meets you halfway; pressing his lips against yours. Hands crawling up the sides of your neck, Samuel cups your face roughly; the pads of his fingers digging into your cheek. Behind each kiss there’s a shared sense of hunger and perhaps even longing. Soft lips slotted between yours, every suckle and nip makes your body buzz in desire. Remnants of alcohol linger on Samuel’s tongue as the tip slips past your open mouth while you’re moaning wantonly. So drunk on the taste of him, all your inhibitions leave you; not even bothering to double check if your current location was secluded enough for you to be carelessly reaching under your skirt to slip off your panties. It's a muscle memory thing for you when you sneakily tuck the flimsy fabric into Samuel’s pocket. 
His hands trail down your figure slowly as if trying to get familiar with every dip and curve—but Samuel knew himself well enough to know that you made yourself a permanent home in his memories. As his palm smoothes over the slope of your ass, the absence of a pantyline beneath the thin material of your skirt causes him to pull away from you. Looking at you curiously, he’s met by a cheeky grin as your smaller hand guides him under your clothes to feel the pent up sexual frustration that’s spilling out of you now. With how obscenely wet you are, Samuel feels barely any resistance when he dips two of his fingers into your heat. Feeling just how riled up you’ve gotten just from kissing devours the last morsel of patience Samuel has before he’s hastily undoing his pants and lowering them just enough to pull his cock out, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies and swiping the tip along your folds.
“You missed this, didn’t you?” He taunts, tapping the head of his cock against your swollen clit. “You wanted me so bad that you’re letting me fuck you in this dingey alley.” He laughs mockingly, eliciting a small mewl from you as you buck your hips up against his.  
“Don’t tease…” You murmur softly, sneaking a glance at him out of fear you would fall for him all over again. Bracing yourself for what was to come, you loop your arms around his neck, gazing between your bodies as you’re entranced by the sight of your arousal thoroughly coating him.
Muttering something under his breath that goes unheard by you due to the sound of your heart thudding against your chest, Samuel’s hands latch on to your thighs; wrapping them around his hips before he pushes forward into you. Chest tightening, he grits his teeth as the tip of his cock dips past your tight entrance; the unforgettable warmth consuming him and filling him with the sense of being home. The sudden intrusion has you gasping in surprise, but the pain laced pleasure is so intoxicating, you find yourself trying to take more of his length inside of your needy little hole. Even as tears well up in your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes, it doesn’t stop the shaky plead to be fucked from tumbling past your lips. 
No build up. No more condescending comments. Samuel wastes no time thrusting into you animalistically, his full balls slapping against your ass. At this point, the only thing he has in mind is releasing months of frustration on to you as he continues to fuck you with the intention of making you regret breaking up with him. Head falling back with a slew of vulgarities, your wet walls clamp around his size; your cunt refusing to relinquish its vice grip on him. It only fuels him to go harder, grunting as he ruts into you so harshly that you have to cling on to him and lock your ankles around his lower back out of fear of losing connection. 
Some semblance of coherence slips back into your system when you feel the bumpy texture of the wall starting to make your back ache and you try to keep your noises to a minimum. But nevermind the discomfort of the rough surface of the wall beneath you rubbing up against you. It hurts more to know that Samuel wouldn’t be going home with you after this. All you can do for now is bask in the moment; feeling every inch of him filling you up and hitting every good spot just the way you like it.   
“What am I gonna do with you? Why don’t you get that you’re made for me?” Samuel growls into your ear, hips continuing to buck into you aggressively with sharp, precise thrusts into your gummy walls that make your cunt gush more arousal. “So…fucking perfect for me.” He rasps out in a shaky voice, the blunt tips of his nails dig into the meat of your thigh as he continues to slam into you.
It’s not right, but the possessive talk has you squeezing around him. Your guts twisting in excitement as his thick length works your sopping pussy, thrusting into you at spine-breaking pace. Whimpering from how hard he was squeezing your thigh, you could feel his fingertips leaving their marks on your skin. 
“P—please, don’t stop.” You croak, letting your head fall forward onto Samuel’s shoulder; making the mistake of burying your face into his shirt and getting yourself drunk on the smell of him. Once you realize what you’ve done, you pull away again with a small sniffle. It wasn’t abnormal for tears of pleasure to stream down your face whenever you had sex with Samuel, but in this context, there was a high chance that the tears were provoked by some other emotion. 
“Oh, baby. You should know I don’t plan on stopping until I make this tight little pussy cum all over me.” He tells you, his breath tickling the side of your face before he presses a gentle kiss on your temple that contrasts starkly against the manner his hips move. 
It’s so unbearably hot between your bodies, even under the cool night air. It only contributes to how lightheaded you feel as you feel your climaxing building. Samuel’s eyes happen to glance down below to your point of connection and he sees the white ring of cream you’ve oh so adoringly left around the base of his cock. A wave of satisfaction washes over him upon seeing the mess you’ve made. And he’s even more pleased when he feels your walls pulsing around him, signifying you’re about extremely close to orgasming.
“Look at me.” He commands you sternly, movements unfaltering. When you don’t heed to his demand, he delivers extra rough snaps of his hips into you. “Look. At. Me.” He repeats, each syllable punctuated by the ruthless thrusts. 
Reluctantly meeting his eyes, his expression is softer than the last time you looked at him. Behind all the carnal lust, it’s impossible to miss the affection lingering in his irises and so many different emotions overcome you at once. It feels like there’s a disconnect between your mind and body—your head is scrambling to find out what’s going on while your body is tensing up, euphoria slowly taking over as bright colors decorate the edges of your vision. 
“Ohhh—fuck!” You yelp, feeling an orgasm strong enough to render you brainless ripping through your body. Trembling in his arms and gazing at him like he was your God, the telltale signs of your climax had always made the veins in his cock throb like crazy. 
“See? If you weren’t made for me, how come just looking at me is enough to make you cum?” Samuel murmurs against your mouth, kissing you softly and relishing in the salacious moans you emit between licks across the seam of your lips.
Now able to chase after his high, he searches for it in the deepest part of your pulsating walls. Despite your sensitive pussy trying to hold him in place, he thrusts into you almost violently; his thick size spreading you open and imprinting its shape into the slick walls. As Samuel fucks you through your orgasm, rearranging your insides as he pleases, your mind is long gone and ventured off into space. You may have been brought to orgasm from looking at him, but the sight of you in your post orgasm haze was what brings Samuel to his finish. A guttural groan rumbles in his throat as his thrusts become sloppy and vicious before hot white ropes of his seed paint your insides. Holding himself deep within you, he fills the deepest part of you and your body milks out every last drop eagerly. 
Taking a few silent moments to even out your breathing, the two of you eventually part; your legs unwinding themselves from Samuel’s body before you hastily pull down your skirt and he fixes his pants. The tension between the both of you is so thick, you think you should at least say ‘goodbye’ or something to cut through it but the words get caught in your throat. Seeing that Samuel had already moved to lean on the very wall you were just fucking against and was lighting up a cigarette let you know that he had nothing to say either. 
With how many times you told him you never wanted to speak to him, this should have satiated you; but when you make your way back to the bar to rejoin your friends, the itch to unblock Samuel’s number on your phone starts to nag at you.
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wambsgansshoelaces · 2 months
Note
okay so last night i had this horrible bad bad bad no good panic/anxiety attack and like . i went through IT . was really bad , shaking so hard my teeth clattered , barely breathing , etc . so maybe could I get succession characters helping a so who has a panic/anxiety attack and grounding them? tysm 💐
~ 🦈
I’m really sorry that happened to you anon :( I hope you’re feeling much much better now!!! If you ever need to talk, you got me <3 I love u thank u for requesting, enjoy xx
panic attack (succession main cast)
Kendall
ᝰ he’s obviously had his fair share of panic attacks
ᝰ while he’s not really sure what’ll work for you specifically, he does his best to do things he wishes people did for him when he’d have attacks
ᝰ he has a few tricks up his sleeve, anyway
ᝰ when he first realizes you’re having one, he gets an ice cube
ᝰ and tells you to put it in your mouth and just leave it there
ᝰ “it helps your brain distract itself from its own meltdown,” he tells you softly
ᝰ all the while stroking your hair, your cheeks, your brow, whatever he can tell soothes you the most
ᝰ you suck on the ice cube until it melts
ᝰ and surprisingly enough, you’ve calmed down
ᝰ yes you’re still extremely anxious, but your breathing’s been regulated, your heart rate back to normal
ᝰ kendall coaxes you into a cuddle on the couch
ᝰhis fingers run through your hair over and over
ᝰ he’s just trying to bring you down from that bad high
ᝰ and he’s doing well
ᝰ he murmurs soft words to you
ᝰ and tries to get to the root of the issue
ᝰ “what caused all this, do you know?”
ᝰ you don’t have an answer
ᝰ but that’s okay
ᝰ he’ll take care of you regardless
ᝰ because you mean the world to him
ᝰ and if he can do anything to make you happy, he’ll do it
ᝰ you make him the happiest man to walk the earth
Roman
ᝰ is also a panic attack veteran
ᝰ kind of freezes the first time you have one in front of him
ᝰ but he snaps out of it immediately
ᝰ makes you lay down in bed while he runs to the bathroom
ᝰ he comes back with a cool washcloth and slaps it onto your face
ᝰ “roman!”
ᝰ “sorry, i didn’t think it’d go so hard!”
ᝰ you laugh
ᝰ but like you’re still having a panic attack
ᝰ he’s sat next to you, and rubs gentle circles into your cheeks and forehead with the washcloth
ᝰ the cool water helps soothe you as it seeps into your skin
ᝰ you calm down
ᝰ you’ve exhausted yourself
ᝰ once roman’s sure you’re not stressing the fuck out, he takes the washcloth and sets it on his side table
ᝰ he lays down with you and pulls you close to him
ᝰ “i’m tired, and i won’t be able to sleep unless you take a nap with me,” he states
ᝰ he sets your head on his chest
ᝰ and peppers kisses over your scalp
ᝰ he’s not even a little bit tired
ᝰ he just wants you to sleep and reset
ᝰ cheek smushed into his pec, you doze off
ᝰ he’s so happy, just having you here with him
ᝰ you’re safe when you’re with him
ᝰ and he’s safe when he’s with you
ᝰ he’s so warm and cuddly with you
ᝰ and you love it
Shiv
ᝰ if she’s ever had a panic attack, she’s never let you see it
ᝰ or anyone
ᝰ but when you have one in front of her, she can’t just let it happen
ᝰ she takes your face in her hands and makes you breathe
ᝰ “you’re going to do it just like me, okay?” she asks softly, eyes searching yours
ᝰ helps you box breathe
ᝰ “four cycles, babe, come on,” she encourages
ᝰ in four, hold four, out four, hold four
ᝰ “that’s it. you’re doing so well,” she coos
ᝰ within minutes she has you back to normal
ᝰ you don’t say anything, just hug her tight with your chin set on her shoulder
ᝰ “wanna talk about it?” she asks
ᝰ she’s there whether you do or you don’t
ᝰ if you do, she sits, she listens, and she does her absolute best to help
ᝰ and even if she can’t solve the issue itself, she’ll do everything in her power to make you feel better
ᝰ she goes out a bit later, not telling you where she’s going
ᝰ she returns with a banana split from dairy queen
ᝰ you share it, you perched on the kitchen counter, her standing in front of you
ᝰ your legs tangle together as you eat
ᝰ you end up getting a bit of whipped cream on the corner of your mouth
ᝰ“you’re so messy,” she says lightheartedly
ᝰ“what? look who’s talking,” you say back, wiping ice cream from her chin
ᝰ“i don’t know how that got there,” she mutters
ᝰ she lets you have the cherry
ᝰ she knows you love it
ᝰ but she loves it too
ᝰ so she kisses you, savoring the taste of the cherry
ᝰ but mostly just the taste of you
Tom
ᝰ well read wambsgans strikes again
ᝰ he realizes you have a panic attack oncoming and sits you down in a chair
ᝰ he keeps a hand on your shoulder and quietly talks you through it
ᝰ when your breathing begins to get erratic, he begins asking you questions so that you ground yourself
ᝰ “can you name three objects you can see in the kitchen?”
ᝰ “i, ah, the blender, the, um, coffee machine, and that stupid looking mug of yours,” you manage, referring to his ‘world’s best grandma’ mug he’d gotten in a white elephant thing at work
ᝰ “there you are. how about three things you smell?”
ᝰ he’s smiling softly at you, hand now pushing back hair from your face
ᝰ you inhale deeply, grounding yourself
ᝰ just as he’d intended
ᝰ “your cologne… i still kind of smell dinner? and…”
ᝰ at a loss, you lean forward and sniff
ᝰ “…laundry detergent,” you say after giving his shirt a sniff
ᝰ “you’re a cheater,” he says, despite his smile
ᝰ “oh, well,” you reply, smiling up at him
ᝰ he kisses your forehead
ᝰ “want to move to bed?” he asks
ᝰ “please.”
ᝰ before you know it, the two of you are curled together, the blankets and duvets bringing you comfort
ᝰ he brings you comfort
ᝰ he’s scratching gently at the nape of your neck, your head pressed into the crook of his
ᝰ you press lazy kisses to the skin under your mouth
ᝰ you fall asleep, a tangle of limbs, the sheets warm with affection
Greg
ᝰ lowkey is also having a panic attack
ᝰ but not really
ᝰ he pulls himself together for you
ᝰ he’s not really sure what to do
ᝰ so he googles it
ᝰ “hey, hey. close your eyes, and, uh, i’ll count to five, and you’ll breathe in through your nose, okay?”
ᝰ not really sure what this’ll do for you, but trusting him, you oblige him
ᝰ “exhale through your mouth, now.”
ᝰ after a few cycles, you’re feeling a bit better
ᝰ you’re still anxious, but it’s not suffocating you anymore
ᝰ “go sit, i’ll get ice cream,” he tells you
ᝰ when he comes back to sit next to you on the couch, he has a pint of your favorite ice cream in his hands and two spoons
ᝰ his arm goes around you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze
ᝰ the two of you end up finishing the pint
ᝰ he talks about everything to take your mind off of whatever it was that was stressing you out
ᝰ eventually, your brow isn’t furrowed, your features aren’t tense
ᝰ he kisses your cheeks
ᝰ “are you feeling good? better, at least?”
ᝰ you are
ᝰ you’re finally at peace again
ᝰ you spend the rest of the night watching a favorite show of greg’s
ᝰ you love sitting there listening to him talk about why he enjoys it so much
ᝰ he tells you that he’ll enjoy it better when you watch it with him
ᝰ because the first time around, all he could think of was you and whether you would like it
ᝰ you’re all that’s on his mind
ᝰ ever
Stewy
ᝰ this man is a masterclass in calm
ᝰ “hey, baby, take a breath,” he tells you, one hand brace on your stomach, the other on the small of your back
ᝰ when you clearly do not take a good breath, he changes tactics
ᝰ the hand on your stomach moves to take your own hand
ᝰ the one on your back begins rubbing in circles
ᝰ “i really want to go on a walk,” he tells you, “and i really, really, want you to come with me.”
ᝰ you know he’s lying
ᝰ but you go with him anyway
ᝰ the fresh air helps you
ᝰ and just moving around helps clear your head
ᝰ eventually, you’ve calmed down a bit
ᝰ your breath is still stuttering and tears are welling in your eyes
ᝰ stewy still has your fingers intertwined with his
ᝰ his eyes never leave your face
ᝰ he reaches over and thumbs away your tears
ᝰ “you know, i think we’re on time to watch the sun set,” he tells you, eyes twinkling
ᝰ you end up at a nearby park
ᝰ he pulls you onto a bench overlooking empty meadows
ᝰ his arm loops around you and he lets you lean against him
ᝰ your arms wind around his wast, your fingers fiddling with his belt loop
ᝰ he dots kisses all over your head as the sky melts into pinks and oranges
ᝰ “so gorgeous,” you whisper, the colors blending and swirling together before your eyes
ᝰ “not as much as you,” he murmurs back
ᝰ “cheese ball,” you say happily
ᝰ “you know you love me.”
ᝰ “i do. very much.”
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chrissy-kaos · 4 months
Note
Hey!!
I just wanted to tell you I think it’s so cool how you continue to play hockey even if it’s a beer league! I mean I don’t know what good adult leagues there are when you’re older really 😅
I miss playing hockey so much and I always just figured it would be impossible to get taken seriously by judgmental fucks. I love that you make history even though you’re just yourself. I do sort of despise some of the things I’ve heard in the locker room too tbh.
It’s so amazing to see you gear up and get sweaty. It makes me some how feel seen too and I feel like I need to just figure it out lol. I know your kicking ass out there (cus I saw u posted ur stats) lol 💜 hope you have a good rest of your weekend 💜
Thank you! Yea posting about me playing wasn’t something i was really going to do. But everyone here seems to love that content and they continue to ask for it. So I’m going to keep posting it. I don’t think I’m anything special or making history. I’m just a girl that wants to play hockey. That’s it. If I inspire others to play than that’s awesome! Because hockey is amazing and growing the game is important! With that said I’m going to share a bit of a story with you. So bear with me.. I tend to over share 😅
Hockey is something I’ll never give up. For a long time my life centered around it. I’m fortunate enough to live in a town that’s had multiple pro teams and a great hockey community. I used to coach/play for one of the teams before my transition. When I was debating if I was going to transition or not hockey played a part in it for sure. I didn’t want to never play again. But I was scared that people wouldn’t accept me and all that. I felt like majority of the community liked me and enjoyed my coaching. But you never actually know how someone feels about it, ya know.
When I finally made my decision I was coaching full time and I decided to step away from hockey not necessarily for good but until I was comfortable with myself. So I resigned and hung my skates up. Then started my transition. It was a little after two years into my transition when I decided to step on the ice again. I had played some roller with a few friends and messed around stick handling in the house but I never went back to the rink.
(I actually find this hilarious 😂.) I seen they had a skate and shot and decided I’d go to it. Not skating for two years I needed to get my legs back anyway. So I show up to the rink. It’s still all the same people that worked there when I did. I walked up to the counter to pay and my friend Josh was working and said “hi ma’am, here for stick time?.” He had no idea I started to transition. I said “hi, Josh.” He looked at me like I was crazy and asked if he knew me. I gave him the money and said “you might” then walked away. He stopped me to tell me where the women’s locker room is. I smiled and said thank you.
I skated like crap. To be expected tho. After the time was up I headed to the locker’s. Josh stopped me and asked how I knew him. So I told him who I was and it blew his mind 😂. He congratulated me and said he had no idea. He told me he was thinking to himself damn this girl is good(I actually suck lol). He was like who the fuck is she?. He thought I was one of the college players. Our local college and pro team share the rink together. Anyway he was completely blown away. The interaction was great and positive. He was very supportive. After that I started coming once a week and more people realized who I was.
Everyone was extremely supportive and accepting. They use my chosen name and pronouns. Even offered me a coaching position again. I declined for reasons. But the hockey community in general is amazing. I felt comfortable enough to hop in our league. It’s our house A league so all the best players current pros, ex pros and d1-3 guys. It’s extremely competitive. I’m still the only girl ☠️ lol
Now I can’t speak for any other community but at no point in time have I been treated bad or different. I’m given the same respect as everyone else. Do guys talk in the lockers probably but they are nothing but respectful and courteous to me. If you want to get out and play don’t let anyone stop you.
Hockey is for everyone and you deserve to play too! Just go for it! You never know unless you try. Hockey has one of the best lgbtqiia+ communities in all of sports. There are teams like @teamtrans-icehockey where you can play with people like us who understand the difficulties of being trans/nb/queer in sports. I’ve played with teams trans a few times and they are an incredible group of people! I highly recommend checking them out! 
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(I took this pic the on the way to the rink that first time back. Don’t mind the filter and how pudgy I am 🫣)
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thatcrazycrowgirl · 10 months
Note
How u doing! Do you still write fics/headcanons?
If so I’ve had this idea pop into my mind recently
Jacob freaking out while his girl is in labor And then getting drunk with his rooks to celebrate the birth of his baby?
Hi there! I'm so sorry for the delay in responding to this - it was sitting half-finished in my drafts for a while, but I finally had an opportunity to sit down and complete it! Hope you enjoy! ^_^
Jacob Frye - New Birth Headcanons
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- Try as he might, Jacob Frye was never good at hiding his emotions.
- This meant that when he found out his beloved was in labor, he instantly panicked - first on the inside, but it quickly slipped out into the open.
- However, what he didn’t tell anyone was that a good deal of the panic and fear came from losing his own mother to childbirth - something he sometimes still feels like is his fault, despite having no control over something like that.
- And given that Evie was the only person present and available who was aware of Jacob’s most secret fears, she’s the only one who can console him and bring him down from his emotional high to some degree.
- But even then, he gets no catharsis until the moment he hears the soft wailing of the newborn babe from upstairs.
- It was a wonder he had any strength left in his legs, wobbly and achy from the tension he previously held in them, when he headed up those stairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife.
- And yes, the moment he saw she was alright and holding a healthy baby in her arms, he teared up a little.
- Here he is, actually a father now. This is real.
- He also privately swore to himself that he would try his damnedest to be the best father he could be.
- And when it came to the celebration of that birth? Hoo boy, the festivities happened on and off daily for almost a week. Toasting, singing, repeated congratulating - the works.
- Jacob was tempted to invite his Rooks into his home, but quickly realized how bad of an idea that was, so he chose to celebrate at the pub nearest to his house instead, just so he was never too far away from his recovering wife and their new baby.
- Of course, though, not too long after the birth, the baby ended up at the pub one afternoon with their father anyway...well, only for a very short time, before the mother showed up, incredibly miffed at Jacob spiriting away the child like that, while she was napping. (At least, he had the decency to leave a note?)
- She softened, however, when she saw how gently and kindly the baby was being treated as they were being passed around.
- Didn’t mean she still didn’t have a few choice words for Jacob, though - that frustrating, yet lovable man, who only innocently wanted to share his good fortune with his loyal gang. (Why is it always so difficult to remain angry with him?)
- That being said, Jacob better be careful not to bring anything up to her about having another child around the Rooks, because many of the gang members quickly discovered how much they loved the idea of being unofficial aunts and uncles to their boss’ child.
- Oh, wait...did Jacob let that idea slip out in a flirty comment to his wife, after having one too many drinks...?
- And did she actually coyly smile back in approval...?
- Well, guess the gang is going to get their wish after all. ;)
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fatuismooches · 1 year
Note
HIIII ITS 🎐 ANÓN HERE! I HOPE YOURE DOING AMAZING CUTIE PIE MWA MWA! I’m writing this pretty late but fragile reader who used to paint in their free time before getting sick. Which they were praised for back when they could, but nowadays since they have trouble moving and need to depend on the clones, they can’t draw or paint anymore…which makes them sad since they would really want to draw something for Dottore and the clones, but even picking up a pen is difficult nowadays…I can imagine fragile reader has tried to draw something but, their hands are so shaky the most they can draw now are simple figures like stick men…if anything it looks more like a 5 year old did it than an actual adult…and one day they tried to draw but to not luck…so they just crumble up the paper and throw it to the side. Unaware that one of Dottore’s clones was watching. So once reader is put to sleep, the clone picks up the wrinkled piece of paper to see that they actually tried drawing a few random things, but they tried drawing Dottore most of all…and a few clones! Which is impressive with how shaky their hands are now. The clone shows the “masterpiece” to Dottore, who just stares at blankly, but internally he’s actually surprised reader could even do that…he could still recall how lovely they used to draw before they got ill…and how they actually even promised to draw him…so Dottore takes the wrinkles up paper and tells the clone to go back to work. But, as he does experiments/paper work (idk), he looks back on the drawing, which does look like it was drawn by a 5 year old…but yet, Dottore can’t help but feel glad somehow…seeing that despite the fact reader is so ill, they continue to think of others despite their condition…which he can’t help but fold up the paper nicely and put it in a drawer for safe keeping.
Anyways I got lazy at the end but take this is a small Drabble! I’m sorry if it’s not the best ;w; It was a random thought I made up since I’m an artist myself and I couldn’t help but have to write it! I hope you enjoy reading it though! I LOVE YOU SMOOCHES MWAH MWAH KISS KISS CHU CHU!! ❤️❤️
🎐-Anón!!!
OH MY GOSH CUTIE PIE I LOVE THIS!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!!! IT IS LITERALLY THE BEST DON’T U DARE SAY ANYTHING ELSE. I WAS JUST LIKE :DDDDD THE WHOLE TIME READING OMFG
Associating with the arts was always a daunting task if you lived in Sumeru. Dancing, singing, drawing, hell, even writing was looked down upon if it wasn’t academically related. And while you did face a large amount of side eyes and tongue clicking from the Akademiya folks, there was surprisingly a great number of people who enjoyed your art, and you were immensely grateful for them. But no one quite inspired you as much as Zandik.
You were honestly baffled when he didn’t turn his nose up at your paintings. You had kept it a secret from him, hidden drawings in a concealed compartment of your shared dorm, but he still managed to find out, when you were so into your painting you did not realize his arrival. You thought that considering how much of a man of science he was, he'd think that painting was a waste. But you were wrong.
That was so long ago, it hardly mattered now. After all, reminiscing about the old times only served to make you more downhearted. What good was it when it was just a painful reminder of what you could not do anymore? The simple action of gliding pen against paper had become an activity that you started to dread. Your shaky hands always produced what you desired least, crude stickmen and doodles littering the page you’d wasted. It looked like a child’s mindless scribbles, and you sure felt like one after all your unfruitful labor. It was no use, you decided, throwing it into the trash. You simply weren’t in the same state as you were before.
You go to sleep tired as usual, and a clone is cleaning your room as usual. There is never much to clean, but Prime had made it a rule to keep your quarters as clean and spacious as possible. Needless to say, the clone is surprised to see a lone crumpled ball at the bottom of the bin. He can’t help but be curious - all of the clones crave to get to know you on a personal level - and is surprised at the painstakingly drawn art. The segment can tell you erased a copious amount of times, from all the wrinkles and barely legible lines. Yet he knows how great a feat this is, considering your condition. The rough art can’t help but make him grin too - he can still recognize some of his fellow clones and his creator despite the lack of proportions.
When Zandik sees the image, a sense of surprise but also relief flows through him. Surprised that you still managed to pull this off, and relief that you are still yourself despite everything that has happened. He knows that your body has changed, but he doesn’t want you yourself to change. Though the drawing may seem distasteful to anyone else, he is content.
You are still trying, and he shall too. He swears that you’ll be able to deliver that painting you promised to him centuries ago.
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lyramundana · 9 months
Note
Hii how are u??? Hope you're okay
I just wanna know something, HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO WRITE SO PERFECTLY, WHEN I READ YOUR REPLY TO MY LAST ASK I ALMOST FAINTED RIGHT THERE OMG IT'S SO PERFECT💯💯💯💯💯
Anyways I came back with another ask so that's it :
Yan! Minsung x fem! childhood bestie! Reader where she have a crush on someone else and they're like "you're ours sweetie don't you know ? No one can take you from us"and of course you do your magic 😎😎
Thank you🌹🌹🌹❤❤
----🦋 anon----
I'm doing pretty well, honey, thank you!
ajsndkndeckndkvn stop it 😭😭, now you're just trying to flatter me. I'm not that good really, I just write whatever shit comes to my mind. My english vocabulary falls short often and I end up repeating words because I literally don't know more. But putting my language barriers aside, I'm very happy and proud my last work was up to your expectations hehe🤧🥰 I enjoyed the trope and I'll love to hear more of your thoughts about this since it's yours, so pls feel free to message me privately anytime to talk about it!
Anyway, let's get to it:
YANDERE! POLY MINSUNG AS CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS
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Jisung and Minho have been pillars in her life since she can remember.
She met Jisung in kindergarten, and when they realised that their lunch boxes were identical, they decided they were best friends. Minho appeared on their first day of primary school, being new to the neighbourhood. The other kids found him scary and he never tried to interact with anyone, until one day, Reader noticed him sitting alone during break and eating his lunch in a hidden corner with a sad frown and dragged him towards Jisung. After spending a good while making him talk and sharing food, they found out little Minho was just incredibly shy and having moved to another place where he didn't know anybody made him terribly anxious, so he preferred to not speak much to not embarrass himself.
When school ended that day, the three of them were already inseparable for the remaining time. Jisung and Minho clicked instantly and Reader was the extrovert that pushed them out of their comfort zones.
This dynamic remained more or less the same as they grew. Since they lived in the same area, they hung out every day and created beautiful memories. Minho managed to get out of his lonely bubble and worked on his social skills, while Jisung learnt to take things calmly and rule himself. They witnessed each other's worst and best moments.
Reader had other people around her, but she only ever paid attention to her best friends. Minho and Jisung never interacted much with anyone besides her either. They always said "We only need each other. We're a team. The rest doesn't matter". She was so focused on them she neglected socializing with other people..which the boys didn't mind at all.
As time passed and the three of them remained as close as ever, they realized they needed her, on a visceral level. She was the sun they were constantly rotating around to to keep living. She was their personal ray of sunshine and they couldn't stand the mere notion of being depraved from that light...or having someone else enjoy it. As these thoughts started to get weight in their heads, it changed their behaviour too.
They sneakily isolated her from other people except her own family. They whispered lies in her ear, slowly manipulating her into believing that no one would value her as they did, that most people were out of to hurt her. Everytime she was about to make friends with someone, they cut that off quickly from the sides and dragged her back to them, all with the same kind smiles she grew up with so she never suspected a thing. She genuinely thought she was simply bad at socialising and her besties were her comfort zone, her eternal protectors. Yeah, they brainwashed her.
When high school started, both boys made sure to be inscribed on the same one as her, and with such luck they were placed in the same class. She never sat by herself, always with one of them at her side or both surrounding her, like human shields. For group projects they always paired together, and when the teacher separated them, it was hell for the other people involved.
They've been so smooth and cunning with their antics over the years that she has never felt anything wrong with them. She believes in them blindly. They're her precious best friends, her soulmates, her brothers. Sure, they might be a bit overprotective at times, but because they want her happiness.
At first they truly saw her only as a friend, their friends who belonged to them first. She could hang out with others, but at the end of the day, they should be her priority. They'll be the typical toxic besties that are like "you know her for five months, but we've known her for years" or "Do you seriously prefer to spend time with them over us? We're your best friends, you should think of us first!", or they'll make her cancel plans to go out with them instead. It's what they expect her to do. She must always prioritise them.
However, when their feelings for her started to become romantic, their attitude became worse. She wasn't allowed to go out with others anymore, especially boys. They made sure she was with them at all times, scaring off or threatening anyone that tried to approach her. What if someone stole her away from them, from her rightful place? They can't live without her. What are they supposed to do?
When they start their senior year in highschool (I got no idea how the education system works outside Spain) Han and Minho are in the same class, much to their delight...until they notice she's not there. Their protests are ignored, the graduation is this year and teachers have a lot in their minds to care for some "petty teenagers with separation anxiety." And so they're forced to endure the classes without her, unable to keep an eye on their girl. They're worried sick. What if something happens to her and they're not there? What if someone gets close to her and takes her? No, they can't stand it. No matter how much she promises them she's fine and can handle herself, they know she needs them. She's never been without them for long.
So they find a solution: Track her. They install a spying app on her phone to know where she is and record her conversations. They keep an eye on anyone that speaks to her longer than they like and intervene behind her back to cut off any potential admirers. This was supposed to remain only in school, but they use it even outside.
Years pass and they're already college students. Since they no longer can be in the same class, the boys find a solution: Move to an apartment and live all together. That has been their dream all along, create a routine for life together, as a team, as family. At this point, they're confident their schemes to "protect" Reader and tie her to them have all worked, so they relax a bit. They're sure she feels the same way for them, after all they did for her and all they went through together, she surely loves them just as much. She must have realised she's made for them. They even let her attend college despite hating the idea of not seeing her at all hours, because they trust her. They even slept together a few times already, so that means it's all established, right?
So imagine their surprise when she arrives one day and announces she'll be going on a date with a cute guy from her class. If that revelation wasn't enough to fuck them up, she adds that she's so happy because she's been crushing on him for a while now and wasn't sure he was interested.
All these words sound so wrong in their heads. Blurry, confusing, like she was speaking another language.
When they finally process it, they're furious. More than furious. The three of them have their first big argument since middle school and she leaves. Turns out that in the little time she spent away from them and interacting with other people helped realise that maybe some stuff just doesn't feel right with Han and Minho. She still found ways to excuse them in her head, believing it was all protectiveness but a bit extreme. So she stepped out of he comfort zone a bit and found out how refreshing it felt to have other people to talk to. Specially the guy that sat beside her in class, who always made her heart beat faster and showed her a different, softer kind of affection. One that doesn't suffocate you, doesn't hold you back.
They're mad at her initially but they eventually blame the guy. They blame everyone in the damn uni, for filling her head with lies and corrupting her. Minho claims he knew they shouldn't have supported her going to college without them, but Han says it was all his fault for stopping with their schemes to keep watching over her.
Then, they come up with a plan. One to ensure you have nowhere to go but their side and traps you forever. First, they get rid of the guy (either by intimidation...or something darker), then they comfort her broken heart by telling her that they warned her, that no one would ever love her like they do. Minho suggests having some dinner and drink to get their minds off it.
They get drunk, and they keep refilling her glass to distract her from the pain. They hug her and kiss her face, whispering sweet words in her ears. She's so sad and desperate for some affection there she lets herself go in their arms.
The morning after, she wakes up with hangover and realises they had sex, several times. It's not the first time, so she doesn't think too much about it, except for the slight uncomfortably feeling of not remembering everything. She stands up to shower herself...and doesn't check the trash cans, where there are no signs of condoms.
When she gets told that she's pregnant, it's way too late for her.
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vamossainz55 · 2 years
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Puppy Love (1.3k) | Mick Schumacher x Reader
req from anon: mick would be the cutest hopeless romantic bf. like you know how I’m rom com books/movies the guy is head over heels for their lover. sweet angel mick picking ur fav flowers and a whole movie marathon for you, just because 😌
a/n: tysm for the request!! ahhh i get so happy and excited that i literally need to write it right away. i did a bit of a twist? did i get carried away? maybe. but golden retriever mick energy for sure (so basically canon). i refuse to believe he would be any other way and he would basically move mountains and oceans for you. he'd adore you. anyways first non-carlos fic? published at least hehe. okay that is all. i hope u enjoy anon <3. (sorry i didnt do the movie marathon but i threw it a little in there)
warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff really. oh and late night writing so pls lmk if there are any mistakes <3
reqs are currently open
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gif credit to acrosstobear
You had your fair share of shitty boyfriends throughout the years but every moment you spent with Mick made you realize the wait was definitely worth it. 
It was the first date that really gave you a hint. The way he had knocked on your door instead of waiting in the car. The way he happily introduced himself to your parents, promising with his sweet smile to return you home by your curfew, and he did. 
You joked with your friends, how it wouldn’t last long, and deep down you were scared for a bit but there wasn’t a single day that the German boy proved differently. Even when he finally got his seat in F1, he never failed to show you that you were his main priority. 
“I can’t wait to see you, my love,” Your boyfriend says, and you can’t help but smile at the small pixelated video of him on your phone. He had one more race before the summer break- and you had tried your best to make it but your boss had set a last minute meeting that made it impossible for you to get there in time. 
“Can’t wait to see you too babes,” You promise, sending kisses through the screen as you hear someone call for him in the background. You see Mick pout, telling whoever in the team to give him five more minutes and you can’t help but smile fondly. “Please go, they’re gonna hate me at this point.” You laugh, since you both well know this was his third time asking for more time. 
“Fine, fine.” he says with a sigh before giving you a quick wave. “I love you.” He says making you smile and he waits before hanging up wanting to hear your reply. Of course you say it back. 
_________
You come home a bit later than expected and you’re a bit frazzled, you need to go pick up Mick at the airport early in the morning so you had hoped to get some cleaning around your apartment but you were exhausted. You quietly slip off your shoes and hang your keys on the small hook by the mirror before turning on the lights.
Your bag hits the floor the same time you look up and you can’t help but freeze, seeing the whole apartment tidied up and what? The clothes that were scattered around your living room were all gone, your books were all placed neatly in the shelves, and you even notice that the plants look a bit more freshened up. 
Soon you see a blonde mop of hair and blue eyes peeking from the kitchen. “Surprise!” And you can’t help but feel your chest swell. Mick’s coming at you at full force and you’re engulfed in his arms. 
“Oh my god,” You say with a laugh, holding onto him tight as he lifts you up in the air. He takes this opportunity to spin you before carrying you to the couch. “What the hell?” You say once he sits down. He makes sure to rest you on his lap, and can’t help but run his hand on your thigh as you instinctively straddle him. You’re cupping his cheeks with a wide smile, looking over his eyes.
“You’re a doofus. Weren’t you supposed to be here tomorrow?” You ask, still grinning from ear to ear. He barely has time to answer before you’re peppering his lips with kisses and he’s never one to complain, making sure to return every single peck back. “Oh my god,” You say, still stunned. 
“Managed to get an earlier flight,” he says with a smile, this time cupping your cheeks to look over your face endearingly and the look he gives you makes you want to cry. 
“I ordered your favorite take out.” He says with a smile, “and I’ve loaded up your favorite movie.” He says and you shake your head. 
“Aren’t you tired?” You ask with a laugh and he rolls his eyes. 
“Never too tired for you.” He says before gently setting you to the side. “Now you sit down and relax. You’ve had a long day.” He says, gently turning you so you are facing the coffee table. You bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling when you find your favorite daffodils sitting nicely on the coffee table along with a pack of your favorite chips along with your favorite chocolate bar. 
“I’m back.” Mick smiles, soon carrying to the table the take out from your favorite asian restaurant along with a glass of wine. He sets it down on the table in front of you before rushing to get his own. You open your container once he’s seated next to you and smile. Of course he ordered you fried rice with sweet and sour chicken. 
“I got it right?” He asks curiously and you can’t help but roll your eyes fondly. When did he ever get it wrong?
“No peas too,” You say with a laugh before looking at him. “What did I do to deserve you?” You ask with a smile. He gives you a bashful and shy shrug before he’s telling you all about his race and how he had thought he had completely bottled it before ending in the points and you just can’t help but think how easy it is. 
You snuggle into Mick’s side on the couch later that night, Mick being completely out before the movie had ended. You could tell he was tired from traveling and setting everything up. Quickly you check his phone, wanting to plug it in before it died but you accidentally unlock it with your thumb and you had almost forgotten that you had to try to convince Mick to get a new phone. 
You furrow your brows when his phone instantly opens to the notes app with a note already open, but soon you’re smiling quietly to yourself when you notice the title. ‘yn’s favorite things and everything i love about her’. You let out a quiet but breathless laugh as you go to plug in his phone.
“Baby, stay.” Mick grumbles, soon pulling you in again and you can’t help but give in, snuggling into his side again and you swear your heart grows two sizes. You’re so inlove with him that it almost hurts. 
“I’d never leave you, don’t worry.” You say softly, giving his cheek a gentle kiss before pulling one of your blankets over you both. He lets out a satisfied but sleepy sigh, murmuring something in his sleep before pulling you closer. 
(And if Mick was tired from having spent almost three hours looking for the perfect daffodils for you since most stores were out of stock, nobody needed to know. The way you smiled at him when you saw them was already enough.)
a/n: once again as always tysm for reading hope you enjoy <3. i am enjoying a lot doing reqs atm so please know there are still open.
interested in reading more? check my masterlist.
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Hi, I'm Izz. I hope you are doing well 💜. I'm just started using this app only to read Moriarty fanfic 🙂 and I found your blog.
I read all your writings regarding Moriarty and I enjoy it. I see you accept requests, so if possible I want to request 👉🏻👈🏻 about reactions or feelings or POV of Moriarty siblings (you can add Sherlock or Mycroft) if their s/o have a miscarriage. Uhh and can u make it angst.... I hope it's not too much, since this is the first time I message someone😄. Have a good day 💕
I'm gonna paste the request here just to see how it works 😊. But how to change the font colors? coz I see you use blue 🔵, purple 🟣 & green 💚. Anyway thanks again for accepting my request 😊
Hello lzz!! how's it going?
Welcome to tumblr!!!i hope you're enjoying yourself!!!
Ofc its not too much! it'll be my pleasure to write ur first request ever!!!
Oh btw,ppl who send asks cant change the color of their fonts (i think,since im using tumblr for mobile.)
i hope u enjoy it!
Love, Luna
✧*.。*♡✧*.。*♡✧*.。*♡✧*.。*♡✧*.。*♡✧*.
Albert
•helplessness,fear, terror and a bone crushing sadness
•were all Albert could feel as he stepped through hallways
•when the doctor had told him about your miscarriage,he didnt know how to feel
•what to do
•and when he reaches the room that you're supposed to be in,and hears heartbreaking sobs coming from the inside
•he knows he cant face you;after all,he broke his promise
•the promise to always take care of you and your child when you first realized that you were pregnant
•he broke his promise to you,but most of all,he broke the promise to himself that he will never hear you cry
•Albert knows he cant face you right now
•but he knows he cant runaway,nor can he leave you by yourself
•so with heavy steps,and a heavy heart that seems to break with every choked sob that you let out
•he steps inside your room,and without a word
•embraces you tightly
•and when you bury your face in his chest,Albert closes his eyes
•and prays for better days
William
•William cant believe what he's hearing as the doctors tell him why you're currently laying on the bed, motionless and staring out the window without blinking
•he knows miscarriages are normal,but i when it happens to his own wife?
•William thinks he has never felt this crushed before
•the feeling of losing the child he loved even before he gets the chance to see them
•freezes him right where he stands
•he can see how broken you are
•not looking his way or saying anything
•just staring out at the gray skies like they hold the reason to all your misfortunes
•he feels numb
•tired
•exhausted
•but he also knows that he needs to be strong,for you
•so without any word,he takes a sit at the chair besides your bed
•and takes your hand
•to stare up at the gray sky as well
•in hope that maybe one day, it'll be clear blue again
Louis
•his knees buckle beneath him
•and as they make contact with the hard floor,he doesnt even feel the sharp pain through his skin and bone
•but the pain in his heart
•surely is the most suffocating he's ever felt
•tears well up in his scarlet eyes as Louis takes in your pale feature
•how you're sleeping poorly with tear stained face
•his hands shake as he reaches toward your cheek,to wipe at still damped skin
•Louis blames himself,for everything that's happened to you
•he blames himself for your pain,for your sadness
•and he knows that nothing he does will ever make his sin and guilt lighter
•he knows that even if one day,you bring yourself to forgive him
•he cant ever forgive himself
•so he bends his head low
•and clenches your hand tightly in his
•and sheds silent tears in the darkness of your room
Mycroft
•Mycroft tries hard to keep his cool as he stands behind the closed doors of your shared bedroom
•when the doctor had told him about your miscarriage with fake calmness,he had rushed to where you were supposed to be as fast as possible
•but even as he takes a deep breath
•and closes his eyes to reach for the door handle
•he cant, however,mask how his hands are shaking
•and how loud his heart is beating
•he kept praying for you to be asleep,so he doesnt have to face you
•but when he sees you sitting on your bed
•your face pale;dark circles decorating your lifeless eyes
•it makes him want to run
•but with shaky legs,he comes to your bed
•and sits down on the edge of it
•he doesnt know what to say,or do to comfort you
•but when you take his hands in yours
•a shaky breath escapes him,as he lowers his head
•rests his forehead against the back of your hand
•and for once in your life together
•your husband shakes while shedding silent tears on your lap
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stay with me? | bradley “rooster” bradshaw
Genre: fluff. Fem reader. In which the only cadet Penny trusts to take her niece home is Rooster, knowing the mutual feelings between you guys.
A.N.: HOLY CRAP. TOP GUN MAVERICK. BEST. MOVIE. EVER. Back from the dead to post this because holy COW every single person in that movie blew me away. Phoenix was my favorite besides Rooster ofc. Anyway, enjoy the little writing piece. Love u!
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Phoenix smiled at you, her beautiful black hair slicked back into her classic cadet bun. Her beer sat idly in her other hand, her main focus being on the conversation you guys were having. She had been your best friend since the first time she stumbled into Penny’s Bar, and ever since then you couldn’t be separated.
Penny, your aunt, was working the bar herself, even though you were supposed to be on the clock. Her smile faded as she saw your despondent expression, your conversation with Phoenix seeming to darken your mood. She expected this to happen, though. It wasn’t easy realizing your best friend might not return from her mission.
Across the bar, the other cadets all gathered by the pool table. All of them with a beer in their hands, knowing that they had tomorrow off. Even Maverick sat in a bar stool facing the table, seeming interested in the cadet’s idea of fun. Of course, he was really only there for Penny. The other cadets had snuck glances at your heated conversation with Phoenix, but none of them dared to meddle. They all knew Phoenix would have their asses beat in a minute if they messed with her best friend.
Everyone respected Phoenix’s rule. Except one person. The daring Bradley Bradshaw, who seemed to brighten up the dull mood of the bar within a moment. He sipped from his beer, his eyes trained on you and your expression. He could tell something was bothering you, and it was bothering him.
“Do we know what they’re talking about?” He asked Bob, who was sitting on the bar stool beside him. He knew what Bob’s response would be. About how Phoenix was private and rarely shared about her best friend, who always kept her sane throughout tough missions.
You threw your hands up in defeat, assessing Phoenix’s upset face. “I know, it’s your job P, you just know i can’t afford to lose you.”
“You won’t,” she promised, before embracing the girl.
“Never seen Phoenix hug anyone,” Hangman said to the cadet he was playing in pool, as the hug had drawn his attention. Phoenix’s rough exterior melted around her friend. “Wish i was in Phoenix’s place.”
“Shut up, Hangman,” Rooster snapped at him, “Don’t you dare say that when Phoenix comes over here.”
Hangman raised his hands in defeat, a piece of him surprised at Rooster’s sudden outburst. He rarely got involved in cadet drama or relationships, instead minding his own business. He waited for someone else to tell him the gossip, and when that time came, he listened with all ears.
Phoenix made her way over to the pool table, her usual expression on her face. Rooster’s eyes were trained on you, as you wiped a stray tear from your eye before slipping behind the bar. Getting straight back into work was the only thing that would keep your mind off the impending doom. Penny ruffled your hair as she slipped behind the bar, Maverick grabbing her hand as she left.
“You be careful with her!” You yelled at Maverick as they left. “I’m serious, old man!”
Maverick chuckled and gave Penny a kiss on the cheek for show, to which you rolled your eyes at. You were secretly happy for them, but didn’t want that to go to Mav’s head.
Twenty minutes later, the cadets were appeased with your service and were gossiping around the bar. Other groups of cadets had entered the bar, and it wasn’t hard to see the divide between cadets that was beginning to grow. You sighed at that, selfishly hoping it wouldn’t affect business.
“Penny for your thoughts?” A charming voice asked you, and you gasped at the sudden spur from your thoughts.
“Just thinking about the bar,” you smiled up at the handsome man, recognizing him as Rooster. Bradley. One of Penny’s favorite customers, and dare you say yours too. He was always sweet and kind, being patient with you when the bar was overworked. Secretly, you liked the attention he gave you.
“Can I get you something, Roos?” You asked him softly, cleaning out a glass to prevent your thoughts from spiraling again.
“Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked, flashing a smile. His aviators hided his genuine expression. Your smile dropped and he instantly regretted asking.
“I’ll get your regular,” you rejected him gently and cleared your throat. By the time he had opened his mouth to try and revamp the conversation, two cadets had slid in place beside him. He sighed, knowing his chance was behind him.
It was blazing hot outside today, and you took your aunt penny’s advice. You had no idea her ulterior motives for her advice, or at least, not yet. Your mouth began to water as you stepped outside, your hair thrown up with sunglasses on. Maverick’s cadet squad he was reaching we’re all playing football. Penny smirked, “You might want to pick your jaw up before your boyfriend notices.”
You shoved her shoulder lightly, pulling up a beach chair beside her. Your book was extremely uninteresting now, and you peered at the amount of abs that were in front of you. A bit of shame ran through you, and that was until you and Rooster made eye contact.
He raised an eyebrow at you, seeming to question why you were out here. You made the mistake of letting your eyes drop down to his abs, and then quickly brought them back up to his face. He smirked, and then threw himself back into the game.
“Get a ROOM!” Penny practically yelled for the whole beach to hear, you instantly slapping a hand over her mouth to shut her up. So what if you had a harmless crush on the man?
Surprisingly, you had fallen asleep on the beach with Penny’s welcoming Presence beside you. The sun had set thirty minutes ago, the cadets just now wrapping up their game. They played around on the beach, but Rooster noticed Penny flagging him down.
He jogged over to where Penny was, and smiled at her. “I need you to take her home,” she said with a thin-lipped smile. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this. You were basically her daughter, although just her niece. You had lived with her since you were 12, and she didn’t just want to toss you with Rooster. But she trusted him.
“I have to open up the bar, and she’s been so wiped from work. It’s so unlike her to fall asleep in public because—“ Penny stopped herself, leaving Rooster to cock a brow up in question. She ignored the gesture, instead choosing to just continue. “I just trust you with her, but I can also have Maverick take her home, I don’t want to bother you.”
“I’ve got it,” Rooster assured the warm woman gently. “It’s not a problem at all. I know you and Maverick were going to hang out tonight. I was going to head in early anyway.”
The last part was a lie, but he would much rather take home you than spend time gossiping about the same topics and deal with a cranky hangman.
“She had a couple of drinks as well,” Penny added slowly. Rooster chuckled at her tone. “I’m guessing she’s a lightweight?” Penny nodded abruptly before giving Rooster a tight hug.
“Thank you, Bradley. This is a lot for me to do, but I trust you.”
He nodded, still inquisitive about why she was so sketched about leaving you with him. Was he that much of an asshole? He knew Phoenix was busy tonight with her girlfriend, or else Penny would’ve asked her. The rest of the guys were still playing on the beach, and Rooster looked down at your sleepy frame. He decided to get you safely into his car, and then would come back for his things.
Deciding not to wake you up based off of Penny’s spiel, he scooped his broad tan arms under your sleeping frame. He lifted you up bridal style, stopping when he heard you stir. You tussled around in his arms before bustling into the crook of his neck. He smiled, taking you behind the bar to his car.
“Roos?” Your soft voice asked, your eyes opening a little. You’d recognize the tan skin clear as day. “Where are you taking me?” The sudden fear in your voice made Rooster stop walking, his feet sinking into the sand. It made his heart turn cold, wanting to kill whoever made you so skittish.
“Home, baby,” he responded lightly staring down at you. “Penny asked me too, if you don’t want me too I can bring you back to the bar.”
“No,” you responded quickly as the tiredness hit your head. The beers were starting to as well. “‘M just glad it’s you. Only you.”
This time Rooster stopped again, but just simply chose to ignore what you had just said. You’re a little tipsy, it was probably just a friendly comment. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.
Although still skittish, you were perfectly fine with being in the tanned man’s arms. His bicep ripped as he carried you to the car, and you tried not to thirst over him as he did one of the kindest things for you.
He strapped you in to his trucks passenger seat, and you smiled at the thoughtfulness.
“I just have to get my stuff from the beach,” he promised you as you clung onto his arm for dear life.
“Don’t leave,” you told him. Penny had regretted to inform him that when you were drunk, you remembered.
“I’m not leaving sweetheart,” he told you gently, brushing away a stray hair away from your face. “I’ll be back in two minutes.” He squeezed your hand.
“I’ll be counting,” you assured him as confidently as you could. The words came out a little slurred, but the thought was there. Rooster smiled lopsided and shut your door, locking his car after. He ran to the beach, surprising himself with his actions. He was coming face to face with his feelings for you right now, and it was throwing him for a loop.
The drive home was quiet except for the soft hum of the radio, Rooster’s hands tapping on the steering wheel to the rhythms. The quiet tumbling of the wheels on gravel helped you fall asleep in the car, and the safe feeling that Rooster brought you as well.
He scooped you out of the car, your body and mind too tired to react. You dug around in your purse half-heartedly, retrieving your apartment key. You tried to stick it in the lock, before he took it of your hands gently.
“I’ve got it, sweets.” He told you quietly, as if he would wake up from a dream if he spoke too loud. He thanked everything for his Navy build as of right now, because he had collectively carried you for about an hour tonight. His car had been unfortunately parked far away from the bar, due to Maverick not wanting to spoil the surprise of the football set up.
He pushed the door open, gently carrying you through the laundry room opening and into the main frame. You sleepily led him to your bedroom from your position in his arms, and he plopped you on your feet once there. Your body worked towards the bathroom, fully expecting him to turn around and leave.
He stayed, his tall muscular figure propped against your bedroom door frame. He had left his Hawaiian shirt in the car, just the wife beater and board shorts adorning his godly body. You tried not to stare at his rigid, bulging biceps as you brushed your teeth. The world was spinning, some what from the alcohol and Roosters presence. He crossed over to your drawers, and opened the top one.
“No!” You screamed at him, the contents of your underwear drawer popping out to him as the drawer slid open. Your face went hot red with embarrassment, and you want to shut yourself in the bathroom forever. You spit out your toothpaste, and turned to face him.
“My fault,” he laughed, “never saw you as a lace person.”
You flushed again from the comment, cloaked with innuendos. He tossed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt at you, and you shut the door to change.
Could this day be any better and worse? Rooster was in your bedroom.
The alcohol was still swimming in your head as Rooster handed you a water bottle, his caring side taking over his precious horn-dog brain. He cared for you deeply, and made you drink at least a quarter of the bottle before bed.
He left two advil on your nightstand, and leaned down to kiss your temple before going to flick the lights off and leave.
Just as he went to flick the switch, you sat up.
“Bradley?” You asked him, the use of his full name grabbing his attention instantaneously.
“Hm?” He asked, a soft expression crossing his face as he looked at you.
“Will you stay with me?” You asked cautiously, your voice wavering at the outright request. “It’s the only way I’ll sleep with the alcohol in my brain,” you added, trailing off.
Rooster sighed, his heart beating a mile a minute. You looked scared. He couldn’t leave you in your drunk state.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
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