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ceruleanchillin · 3 years

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When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #Coco Cruz #Coco Cruz x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #reader insert

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stutterfly · 3 years

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Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

#sugary4kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!Steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!steve rogers #sugar daddy au #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #fluff #smut

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles

this is very random and just a lil somethin’, bc i secretly dream about being on one of these shows and meeting one of my crushes lmao, not me pretending to be at an interview in my own kitchen, hah, not at all!

hi hello so im adding this after this was posted. i randomly turned this into a series so you can find further parts for this in the series masterpost!

word count: 1.8k

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“It’s so good to have you here, it’s been quite some time since the last time you sat in this chair, am I right?” Ellen asked with a warm smile as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy, I guess,” you chuckle tugging your hair behind your ear.

“I mean, of course. You starred in two movies since then and even got nominated for an Emmy as well for your role in The Umbrella Academy!” she lists and the audience starts cheering on your successes. “Of course you’ve been busy, but I’m glad you had time to drop by for a talk. So, let’s talk about your upcoming movie. You’ll be co-stars with Zendaya and Finn Wolfhard, it’s a quite interesting cast.”

“Yes! I’m very excited to work with them, I just met Zendaya the other day and though I’M yet to meet Finn I’m sure we will get along well.”

“What was your first impression about Zendaya?”

“Oh, she is very sweet and funny, I think working with her will be more like just a fun activity,” you admit chuckling and Ellen nods in agreement.

“I bet. Alright. So let’s talk about quarantine, it was a rather huge part of the year, where did you spend it?”

“I went home to my family, so I quarantined with them in my hometown.”

“And what did you do mostly?”

“We played a lot of board games and my mom taught me to cook,” you admit with a shy chuckle.

“Yeah, we had the luck to see parts of that,” Ellen chuckles as a video of you and your mom in the kitchen appears on the big screen behind you. It was posted to your Instagram when she attempted to teach you how to make her famous meatloaf. “It seems like you are a natural talent in the kitchen.”

“Well, I haven’t burned it down, so it’s going fine,” you chuckle.

“Alright, and what else did you do? Seen any good movies or discovered some new artists in the world of music?”

“Oh, absolutely. I definitely watched everything I’ve been postponing and I got to listen to new music, so now I have a few new favorites,” you admit smiling.

“Have you been listening to Harry Styles lately?” she asks and you find the question a little odd and very… specific.

“I mean, yes, but it wasn’t anything new, I really like his music,” you admit truthfully. “He is a great artist for sure.”

“Have you been at any of his concerts by any chance?” she asks and you notice that the audience is getting a little excited over something, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

“Not yet, but I hope it’s gonna happen one day.”

“Well, I think I can get you tickets to see him,” a voice speaks up from behind you and immediately, the audience starts cheering as your head snaps around and you see none other than Harry Styles standing behind you. Your mouth hangs open as you feel yourself blushing, he is so tall and handsome, dressed in a bright blue suit with a silver shirt underneath, smiling down at you widely as he walks around the armchairs to greet you.

“Oh shit, I was not expecting this,” you breathe out as you stand up and hug him shortly before he moves over to greet Ellen as well.

“’M glad you like my music, Love,” he smiles as he sits in the armchair next to you and you swear you see him wink at you.

“We thought you wouldn’t mind our other guest joining in,” Ellen explains Harry’s appearance.

“Not at all,” you smile shaking your head. Harry has been your celebrity crush for quite a while, but the two of you just never crossed paths, until now.

“’S very nice to meet yeh,” he nods in your way.

“Same goes for you.”

“Okay, so now that Harry is here, I thought that we could play a little game,” Ellen announces reaching for something next to her armchair.

“Oh man,” you breathe out earning a round of laughter from the audience. “Last time we played something you asked me the most embarrassing burning questions!” you whine thinking back how you had to admit that you sleep with your lights on when it’s raining outside.

“We’ll do something similar this time too,” she chuckles before handing out two round boards to you and Harry as well.

“Oh fo’ fuck’s sake!” Harry groans making the audience laugh again. “Not this!”

“I know you loved it when we played it the last time,” Ellen grins as Harry hides his face behind the board that’s now showing his I HAVE sign towards the cameras. “We’re gonna play Never Have I Ever, I think you both know the rules.”

“Yes, this is why I want to run away now,” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m going with yeh,” Harry smirks at you finally letting his board drop to his knees. Seemingly, the audience is enjoying your misery.

“Don’t be babies, it’s gonna be fun!” “For who? Not me!” Harry exclaims making everyone in the studio laugh. “Should’ve asked what we’re gonna do before I said yes.”

“Too late, Harry. Alright, let’s start,” Ellen announces as she takes her card in her hands, picking the first one and she reads the lines on it. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone I worked with.”

You huff as you turn your board so the I HAVE side is facing the camera, while Ellen has the same side showing, but Harry shows the I HAVE NEVER.

“Never?” you ask Harry.

“Well, what do yeh mean by working with?” he asks with narrow eyes as he taps on his chin.

“Anyone you had any relations with through a job.”

“Well then…” he sighs turning the board, earning some cheering.

“Okay. Never have I ever drunk texted someone and regretted it in the morning,” Ellen continues with the next question.

“Oh, too often,” you blurt out holding up the I HAVE side.

“What did yeh write?” Harry asks with a cheeky smile while he holds up the same side.

“Well, there are just too many, I can’t choose,” you admit laughing. “I often tend to write down my feelings when I had a little too much to drink and then send it without a second thought.”

“Then I better get yeh drunk to find out what yeh think about me,” Harry teases and you hear a loud “ooh” coming from the audience while you can only hope your make up covers the blush on your cheeks.

“I’d need your number for that to happen,” you say arching an eyebrow at him.

“That’s something we can easily fix,” he smirks.

“Okay, before the two of you go on your first date right away, let’s finish the game,” Ellen jokes and you both turn to her. “Never have I ever kissed someone I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean by knowing someone?” you ask to clarify.

“Let’s say you didn’t even know their name,” she adds and as you think about it, you hold up the I HAVE NEVER side first, but then flip it over.

“Oh, something popped into yeh mind?” Harry teases while he holds up the I HAVE side as well.

“I guess I just want to forget about it, but I can’t,” you admit chuckling awkwardly.

“Were you drunk or you just didn’t care to ask for their name?” Ellen questions.

“I’ve had quite a few drinks if I’m being honest. But I think he told me his name, I just didn’t catch it,” you admit.

“Poor guy, he is completely forgotten,” Harry chimes in shaking his head in a dramatic way.

“Alright, we have two more questions. Never have I ever had a friend with benefits.”

“This game sucks!” you snap as you hold up the I HAVE side, making the audience laugh. “You’re making me look like such a bad person!” you whine to Ellen.

“Don’t feel so bad, Harry is in the same shoe!” she chuckles and turning to the man on your right you see that Harry has the same side showing and a very cheeky smirk on his lips.

“How did it end?” you ask out of curiosity. You know how yours ended, in a horrible fight, because he wanted more, but you were in it just for the fun.

“Not in the best way, if I’m bein’ honest,” he clears his throat leaning back in his seat. “How about yours?”

“Same,” you nod chuckling.

“I guess it was a learning lesson for the both of you,” Ellen smirks before reading the last question. “Never have I ever ghosted somebody.”

“Shit,” you mumble, trying to hide your smirk as you hold up the I HAVE side. Harry thinks to himself before doing the same. Leaning forward he checks yours and your eyes meet for a moment.

“I think it would be an honor to anyone to be ghosted by yeh,” he teases you making you roll your eyes. “Wha’? ‘M telling the truth!” he chuckles.

“Wanna get on the list of my ghosted people?” you joke raising your eyebrows at him and he immediately holds his hands up.

“Would rather not.” He places a hand over his heart before smiling in your way sweetly. “Tha’ would break m’ heart.”

“Oh come on!” you chuckle feeling the heat crawling up your neck and cheeks as the audience lets out a soft “aww” at his words.

“Alright, thank you for playing, I think we found out some interesting things about the both of you.”

“Thanks for embarrassing us,” you add mumbling as you hand her back the board.

“It was a pleasure,” she chuckles. “We’ll be right back after a short break, please stay with us, we have more from Y/N and Harry coming right in your way, so stay tuned!” she announces as the crowd cheers.

“Friends with benefits, huh?” Harry asks smirking in your way as you fix your dress. You just shrug your shoulder trying to look casual when you feel so intimidated sitting next to him.

“Had to try it, I guess,” you admit.

“I get it,” he chuckles. “So, if I were to ask for yeh number, would I eventually be ghosted as well?”

You have to bite into your bottom lip to hide your growing smile at his attempt to flirt with you.

“We’ll see. You gotta ask for it first,” you tell him with a knowing smile, hoping to look flirty and light, not the nervous wreck that you truly feel like talking to him.

“I think my dressing room is two doors down yours, so expect me to drop by after this,” he smirks, making your heart skip a beat before Ellen starts speaking and the taping continues.

NEXT PART

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader

2K notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

bands | eleven

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, mentions of intoxication, mentions of dancing at the club, little bit of those insecurities coming back into play, good ol’ phone sex in the hotel room, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (m. & f. receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, breast play, doggy style, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Club tonight before we go back home?" Taehyung grips onto Jungkook's shoulders as they walked out of the venue and into their cars that would take them back to the hotel.

"Club?"

"Yeah, come on. Everyone said yes so far! It's been so long since all of us have gone to the club together without it being a special occasion." Jungkook sighs. That statement was true, and he did love being able to hangout with everyone all together. However, he can't lie - he missed you. He barely had time to text or call you this entire trip like he wanted, and he all he wanted was to hear your voice and see your face until he could finally have you physically in his arms again.

"Fuck." Jungkook does a slight head tilt before letting out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'll come along." Taehyung smiles from ear to ear, squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm sure your girl won't mind if we steal you for a little tonight." Jungkook doesn't respond to Tae's statement and simply shakes his head with a small smile. To be honest, the guys were a little surprised to see that whole thing erupt between Jungkook and Bigs. They didn't think he was actually serious about you, the mysterious girl. Jimin, on the other hand, wouldn't dare say a word and simply lent a small chuckle or smile as his participation during their 'lets tease jeongguk' hours. But eventually, it all became a running joke and the boys learned to leave Jungkook alone because as they've learned before, Jungkook does what Jungkook wants.

He gets away with shit.

He cleans himself up and throws on a button up shirt with ripped black jeans and boots, fluffing his hair a bit before he steps back out and meets up with the boys.

[jungkook] 9:49pm: going out with the boys tonight

[y/n] 9:51pm: lol cheer up, have fun party pooper

[jungkook] 9:52pm: fineeeeeeee :( can i call you later?

[y/n] 9:55pm: you can always call me, i just don't know if i'll always pick up :)

[jungkook] 9:57pm: try and stay up please

[y/n] 10:01pm: maybe lol

He slightly smirks to himself. Hopefully you'd stay up, but he was starting to realize you always fell asleep early and that was okay too. He'd just have to wait to see you when he gets back tomorrow.

Once the boys have arrived at the club of choice, security escorts them to their VIP section, the club already packed from wall to wall with people screaming left and right. There's already a few bottle girls, and other girls waiting for them in the VIP from lord knows where, but Jungkook knows he's not trying to mess with any of it tonight. He truly didn't wanna be here, but to keep his boys happy, he decided to tag along and hang out.

"So many beautiful ladies." Jimin swings his arm around his torso and smirks.

"Go get 'em, champ." Jungkook chuckles.

"I would, if they all weren't eyeing you." He shakes his head.

"She's not eyeing me, she's looking at you." He nods towards a pretty, fair-skinned female with long, voluminous black hair. She's definitely eyeing Jimin, biting onto the tip of her finger as she tries to seduce him through her eyes. Her look. "Go." Jungkook slightly pushes him towards her, smiling as he stood back and watched. The rest of the boys were already enjoying themselves, either dancing around alone [aka Min Yoongi and Seokjinnie] or hopping behind girls for a dance.

"Why aren't you dancing with anyone?" Yoongi laughs. "I figured you would be the first to hop on someone."

"I don't feel like it." He takes a sip of his drink, hand dug deep into his pocket.

"You don't feel like it, or you're too busy missing your girlfriend?" Jin joked.

"I don't have a girlfriend!"

"Mhm, sure." Jin laughs. "You could at least reward yourself with a dance." Jungkook shrugs. Technically, he could. It was just a dance, and you still weren't his girlfriend even though he thought of you pretty seriously. But he knew how this would go, and it would get messy quick - especially with the way females nowadays loved to create drama and claim him. He wasn't up for it. And he didn't wanna do anything to hurt you, or disappoint you. The thought alone makes him feel terrible. You were just so pure-hearted, there was no way he could do anything to hurt your feelings.

"Aye!" Jimin comes over and grabs him by the shoulders, swinging him around to face the ladies once more. "That girl I was dancing with is here with her bestfriend."

"And?" Jungkook chuckled. Okay, so? Lol.

"Bro, come on. Just go dance with her and have fun. She's interested in you." He shakes his head, but Jimin is already pushing him over, the force behind his movements stronger than what Jungkook can endure after the day they've had. He clumsily follows along, his lips pursed in a fine line as he approaches Jimin's girl [of the night] and her bestfriend. She had dark brown hair, stood at about 5'7 and wore high waisted shorts and a bralette-type of crop top. She was really trying for some dick tonight. He gives her a small, toothless smile as she beams from ear to ear, shying behind her bestfriend. She was cute, but she was no you, no disrespect.

"This is Yeji!" Her bestfriend exclaims, damn near throwing her right onto Jungkook like her life depended on it. Jungkook places his hands out to support her but brings them back once she's found her footing again. Definitely drunk.

"Hi." She blushes.

"Hey." Jungkook smiles back, sipping on his drink. Jimin is still hanging onto his shoulder, trying his best to egg him on and Jungkook can't help but smile and nod awkwardly at him. He attempts to back away, but Jimin shoves him closer while laughing.

"Have fun!" Jimin flashes him a quick look, confused at what the fuck he was doing right now trying to turn her down like that. But, he instantly flips the switch as he accompanies her bestfriend to the dance floor again.

"Can I get you a drink or something? Water, even?" Jungkook offers to be nice. He can already hear you scolding him in his head - pinching him on the arm and saying that he needs to be nicer to people. But to be honest, he really doesn't know what the fuck to do with her.

"Water's good, I should start sobering up." She giggles as Jungkook nods and pours her a cup of water. He hands it to her and stands beside her, awkwardly eyeing the crowd in front of them. "Hey, I caught your performance today. You looked good! You all looked really good."

"Thanks." He smiles.

"Do you wanna dance for a little?"

"Uh, actually—" Jungkook suddenly feels the both of their bodies press against each other before Jimin's drunk laugh erupts right behind his ear. Jungkook backs away with his hands up, shaking his head.

"Hey come on, if he doesn't wanna dance don't force him." Yoongi says, almost in a scolding manner.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not really in the best dancing mood right now. Pretty tired." He says to Yeji before he gives her an apologetic look and walks over to his hyungs who aren't busy with girls. He's getting more and more annoyed with the way Jimin has been acting lately, but he was trying to keep his cool - careful not to start anything. He knew Jimin wasn't a fan of you with the way he talked about you that one morning before the photoshoot. He loves him, that's his brother for life. But if he wanted to get disrespectful, he didn't have a problem putting him in his place.

Throughout the night, Yeji is sticking to her friend and Jimin, still hoping she could get something started between her and Jungkook, but she doesn't succeed. Jungkook purposely keeps his distance from Jimin and the rest of the girls around them in the VIP section, perfectly content to be staying around Yoongi and Jin.

When they've finally called it a night, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Hobi are all pretty drunk out of their minds - their asses more than ready to risk it all by sneaking in their girl of choice to their hotel rooms.

"Let me know so Yeji can come too." Jungkook waves his hand to dismiss the statement.

"Nah. I'm good, really, thanks."

"What, all of a sudden you're a goody two shoes for your stripper girlfriend?" Jungkook shoots him a look but brushes it off, blaming it on the alcohol in Jimin's system right now.

"I'm just tired and gonna head to bed, that's it."

"Whatever." Jimin drunkily responds, the four of their drunk asses continuing to be loud as hell in the hallway until they all separate and go off to their own rooms.

"Don't be loud and shit, I want my sleep tonight." Yoongi says before shutting his door.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Jungkook sighs as he looks at his watch, the time nearing 1:30am. He slips out of his clothes, takes a quick shower and gets himself ready for bed before he's shutting off the lights. A hotel bed has never felt so comfortable in his life, but the only thing that was missing was you.

And to be completely honest, he was pretty fucking horny. Having all this pent up sexual frustration just from missing you these past couple of days alone, he couldn't take it. He hopes to god you're awake right now because he's been wanting to hear your voice and hearing your voice alone—

"Jungkook." You say softly on the other line, Jungkook's eyes slightly shutting from the sound of your voice.

Your voice alone was enough to turn him the fuck on.

"You're awake, babygirl."

"Barely." You chuckle. "I'm snuggled into my sheets, but you told me to wait up for you."

"And you actually waited. Thank you, cutie." He smiles to himself. "What'd you do today?"

"Just work my shift at the restaurant, then head home. I don't really do anything outside of work and hangout with Kai, you know this." You chuckle. "How was the club?"

"It was alright." He sighs.

"Did all the pretty ladies get a dance with Jeon Jungkook?"

"Ah, but you're the only pretty lady I know about." He chuckles, making you blush. "But no, I wasn't necessarily in the mood."

"But you're at a club, how could you not be?"

"Too tired. Besides, just wanted to come back here and talk to you. I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you as much since we've been here."

"It's okay, you need to do what you need to do."

"I can't wait to see you when I get back."

"I can't either."

"You and your pretty face."

"What is up with you? Are you drunk?" You softly laugh.

"No, not really. Why, I can't miss you?"

"Never said that, Jungkook. I miss you, too." You giggled, giving him some affection since it's been a couple of days and you actually missed his presence too.

"Yeah? How much do you miss me, baby?" Your eyes slightly widen cause you can most definitely pick up on his tone, plus the 'baby' pet name made your pussy hop a little. He wanted you, and he knew just the right ways to get to you worked up already.

"A lot."

"Mmm." He hums breathily, causing you to bite your bottom lip. "Are you gonna show me just how much you missed me when I get back?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe, what?" He chuckles deeply. "Tell me, babygirl." He begins to slowly palm himself through his boxers. "How do you want me to show you?" You shut your eyes, the heat quickly building in your core.

"Jungkook." You let out a breathy moan. "What are you trying to do right now?"

"God, I just wanna feel you." He says, completely passing up your question. "I just wanna feel you all around me. Would you like that, my pretty lady? Me all up inside you?" At this point, Jungkook is hard as hell, whipping his hardened member free from its confines. He lets out a breath at how free he feels, finally able to stroke himself nice and slow. He toys with the pre-cum pooling at his tip, using it as some kind of lubricant as he strokes himself up and down, gripping a little tighter towards the base.

"Yes." Your hand slips through your shorts and your panties, gently rubbing at your clit as you listen to Jungkook's deep voice on the other line. You slip your hand a little further down, feeling how wet you already are. You silently whimper to yourself, spreading your wetness in and around your folds, picturing Jungkook doing the work for you.

"Don't be shy, baby. Tell me what you want. Use your words."

"I want you inside of me."

"Inside where?"

"My pussy." He softly groans into the phone, his grip getting tighter by the minute as he fucks himself into his hand.

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

"Yes."

"That's my good girl." He moans with you. "Just wanna fuck you so badly. Show you how special you are to me."

"Jungkook." You whine, as you slip in a finger and quickly fuck yourself with it, the sounds of your wetness echoing in your tiny space. "Fuck I'm so wet for you."

"That's it." He hisses. "Fuck yourself for me until I get back. Can't wait to taste you and fill you up."

"Want you so bad, want you to fuck me so good until I cry." You say, not even realizing the shit you're saying right now as you rub your clit and work your hips in tandem. You begin to whimper a little louder, ready to hurdle off the edge with the pressure you're applying.

"Yeah?" His mouth is agape, barely any noises being released due to the overwhelming sensation that's taking over his body. "Want me to fucking ruin you, baby? Are you ready for that?"

"Always." You moan. "Ahh—Kook, I'm gonna cum."

"Cum all around this dick, sweetheart. It's yours." The words are enough to unravel you, sending you spiraling out of control with the pleasure taking all over your body - inch by inch.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook! Ughhhhhhfffffuck." You groan into the phone as you continue to move your hips into your hand, fingers pressed tightly against your clit.

"Shiiiiiiiit." Jungkook moans as his hips are moving quicker and sloppier, the image of him ramming his cock into you from behind while choking you has him toppling him over the edge. "Mmmmmgod, babygirl."

"The fuck, Jungkook." He chuckles as he regulates his breathing.

"Just miss you, that's all." You hear him stirring in the back, probably cleaning himself up just as you are with yourself. "Stay on the phone with me?" When he does have the time to call you while he's been away, he's always asked for you to stay on the line - facetime or regular call - just so it seems like you're next to him. What you did to deserve this soft Jeon Jungkook, you had no idea. But you were gonna take it and run as far as you could, because fuck. You liked-liked him.

"Okay." You yawn.

"I can still take you out on a date, right?" He yawns shortly after, the domino effect hitting him.

"Of course." You softly chuckle, your eyes getting heavy from all the energy you just spent.

"Okay. I just wanna make sure cause I'm already planning this."

"Planning, huh?"

"Gotta put in the effort." Silence. "Night sweetheart, sleep tight."

"Night." You barely manage to say before you're off into a deep sleep.

You knew Jungkook would be back today, but you weren't sure what time. From the sounds of it, it seemed like it would be really late and you'd have to wait until tomorrow to see him. Which, bums you the fuck out. You just longed for his company and to be in his arms again because it's the safest you've felt in such a long time.

Oh, well.

At least it gave you some time to plan out Kai's birthday gift and celebration cause you still had no fucking idea. He was going to spend majority of the day with his friends at their favorite arcade, but you promised him dinner.

Were you really just going to take him to get Loco Moco from the hawaiian mom and pop shop down the street for his 18th birthday?

What the fuck were you even gonna give him?

You figured you could go shopping for some clothes? Or, check out what new games came out for the playstation that he might be interested in playing. Orrrrr find some comic books and give him--

Knock, knock, knock.

You checked your clock, startled at the heavy knocks coming from your door. It was barely after dinner, the sun still up but preparing to make its way down below the horizon. You had no idea why you suddenly felt nervous and scared, afraid of who you'd see through the peephole. Bigs popped into your head, the goosebumps hitting the surface of your skin. You really hoped it wasn't him trying to cause trouble - or anyone else related for that matter.

You slowly stood up, holding your arms closely against your chest. You tippytoed to check your peephole but it was pitch black, as if someone had been covering it with their finger. Was Kai playing games with you? Did he suddenly get dropped off or take the bus? You didn't have plans with him.

You slowly open a crack, seeing a smiley Jungkook waving at you from behind the door. You swing the door open and latch onto him like a koala, causing him to drop his duffle bag and wrap his arms around you tightly.

"Jungkook, what the fuck! You scared me!" You say into his neck, taking in his scent.

"Why?" He laughs as he gently helps you down and follows you into your apartment.

"It seemed like you weren't gonna be home till late."

"Seemed." He smirked.

"Hey!" You gently push him after you close your door. "How'd you know my door code and which apart—"

"Kai." You both say in unison.

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him." You whine.

"It's his birthday soon, though. Let him turn 18."

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him after his birthday." You repeat as you plop back onto your bed, Jungkook dropping his duffle and plopping next to you.

"Cozy place." He says, face down onto your mattress, causing you to run your hand through his fluffy hair.

"It's teeny tiny."

"No, it's perfect. Perfectly sized and cozy." He reassures you as he finally lays on his side to face you.

"Did you just hop off the plane?"

"Sure did."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Yeah, I ate something small on the plane. I'm not that hungry."

"You sure?" You asked, genuinely concerned.

"Mhm." He throws an arm lazily across your legs as he closes his eyes for a quick minute. You continue to run your hand through his hair, a notification on his screen catching your attention.

[unknown number] 6:37pm: hi! this is yeji from the club. :) i hope you don't mind, jimin passed on your number and said we should get into contact.

First of all - Why the fuck does Jungkook have his notifications set so that you can see what the goddamn message is on the lock screen?!

Second - Yeji?

Third - Of course Jimin would have slipped her his number. He hates you for whatever fucking reason.

Another text came in from her but you pulled your eyes away from his phone. This wasn't your business. But let's be real, your heart sank a little knowing he might have been acting up at the club, dancing with hella other girls and getting hella other numbers. It kind of made your insecurities resurface all over again. You weren't his girlfriend though, none of this was exclusive. So, did you really have a right to feel this way?

You brush it off quickly, trying to remind yourself who the hell you were before Jungkook came around [but god, was he making you a softy]. He wasn't exactly yours to claim; however, you were the one he came home to. Technically. Calling you all hot and bothered cause he missed you.

Yes bitch, please.

You're pulled out of your internal battle when Jungkook stirs a little to check his phone, your hand still lightly weaving through his hair as you press your lips together. He reads the notifications, deletes it from the screen and locks his phone again.

"The boys bothering you?" You decide to ask in a way that doesn't yell 'yes I saw her pop up on your phone, sir.'

"Nah. No one important really."

"Oh okay." Bummer. You lowkey expected him to be honest with you, but was that too soon for you? You just through this in your head - this wasn't exclusive.

"Lay with me, pretty lady. Let's watch something."

"You mean finish Gone Girl?" You quickly flip the switch and smirk at him, making him laugh.

"Oh shit, that's right. Not my fault you straddled me." You slightly gasp.

"Not my fault you fucking batted your eyelashes at me, talking about ‘can I tell you something?'" He scrunched his nose and tickled your sides, causing you to yelp and crash your body back down onto the bed. He continues to tickle you until you're begging for him to stop - his body over yours, but he was careful not to put all his weight on you. "Ouch, Jungkook!" You whine.

"You finished making fun of me?"

"You started it!"

"You're so fucking cute, you know that?" He lowers himself down to your lips, pressing them gently against yours. Your hands get tangled within his hair again, pressing him down slightly onto you so you could feel him, feel his warmth. The kiss deepens quick as Jungkook settles himself in between your legs, your tongues at war with each other. He groans into the kiss, his soft, large hands roaming up your shirt and sending sparks throughout your body. "I missed you." He bites your bottom lip and sucks it gently before pulling back. He helps remove the shirt over your head before unhooking your bra in a swift motion and tossing it off to the side.

"I missed you too." You say at a whisper as he grabs both of your breasts and plants kisses along the surface before swirling his tongue around your sensitive, perked buds. He hooks onto your shorts and panties quick, aggressively tugging them down and off.

"So fucking perfect for me." He says, planting kisses along your sides

"I hate it when you do that." You hiss as he begins part your legs wider, pushing your thighs out as he lowers his lips onto your folds. You truly did hate it - you couldn't stand it only because that shit drove you crazy. Someone like Jungkook calling you perfect, god please.

"Hate what, babygirl?"

"Call me perfect like that." You let out a small whimper when you feel his wet tongue glide against your folds, slowly poking in and out of them as he stares at you from between your thighs.

"But you are. Want me to show you?"

"Hmmmm." You whine. "Quit." He slightly chuckles against your pussy, but continues going to work - slipping in two digits and curving them just to tickle you in the right spots. "Ahhhh, Kook please."

"Mhm." He says, picking up the pace with his fingers, allowing your wetness to glaze them. He suddenly removes them from you short after, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

"Ohshiiiiiit. You're gonna make me cum." Jungkook begins to run his tongue up and down your pussy once more, his tongue penetrating your entrance ever so slightly before swiping it up to your clit to suck on it. He motorboats into your pussy, his head moving right and left in such a quick pace that you're tugging on his hair and jutting your hips into his mouth. His tongue starts to pet your clit with its tip - the repeated movements enough for you to reach your climax, your thighs almost keeping Jungkook in between until you could bring yourself back down from your high. "Aghhhhohhhmygod!" Jungkook smirks as he sits up, sticking his two fingers into his mouth before releasing himself from his sweats and boxers.

"Fuck, you taste so good." He slightly groans. Your breathing hitches seeing his hardened member, making you drool at the sight. You already feel dizzy imagining him filling you up with that thing, but you knew you wanted take care of him first - make him feel good, make him feel special. Take him, every inch. You crawl over and take his cock into your hands, spitting onto it before you slowly stroke him up and down. "Ohhhhhbabygirl." His words mesh together as he tilts his head back. You lower your lips onto his tip, tasting every single drop of pre-cum pooling at the area before running your tongue down his shaft and taking him. You get about halfway before you swirl your tongue around suck, pulling back with a slight pop. You stroke towards the base as your mouth is doing work on the other half of his cock. Jungkook has his hand in your hair, and you can feel his grip tightening as he slowly moves your head up and down along his cock. "Can you take me? All of me?" You nod. "Yeah? Fucking take it then." He spits out as he lowers you all the way down, keeping his tip against your throat until he feels you gag. "Oh, fuck!"

"Fuck!" You say, tears brimming your eyes, ready to stream your cheeks as you watch the trail of saliva from his tip to your mouth fall.

"You're doing so fucking good." He says as he watches you while guiding you down length, bobbing your head a little rougher and more aggressively this time around. Your saliva is damn near dripping out of your mouth, the entire scene getting sloppier by the minute, but you honestly didn't care. You were so turned on that all you wanted after this was for Jungkook to fuck you crazy hard, until you couldn't take it anymore. You were so fucking attracted to this man. "One more for me, baby." He moans, lowering you down his entire length again, his tip tickling your throat a lot longer than the first time that your tears are actually coming down this time around. You cough when he finally pulls you back, more saliva trailing from the tip to your mouth. "See, so perfect for me. Taking me in so well like your mouth was fucking made for me." He grabs your chin, placing a kiss against your lips before gently pushing you back down onto the bed. "Turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart."

"I want you so bad." You whine, his hand trailing down your back as he positions your ass up and gets your face as close to the mattress as possible.

"Don't you worry, princess. I'll take good care of you." He lines himself up, his dick incredibly wet from you sucking him like your life depended on it. He slides in with ease, the both of you moaning loudly at the feeling - the feeling of warmth, and feeling so fucking full, Jungkook is sure he can feel his tip ready to rearrange your guts in this position. He begins slow, one hand on a hip, while the other is in your hair, making sure your face is deep into the mattress.

"Faster, please!" You plead, Jungkook wasting no time to hammer his cock into your pussy. The sounds are incredibly loud and lewd, and you knew your walls were thin as hell. You were sure your neighbors were definitely having the time of their life listening to you getting destroyed. You cry as he groans, his hands now gripping your hair and tugging you back so that he can slightly see your face with the way he tilts it back.

"Ughhhh, shit babygirl. You feel so good, always so tight for me." He moans as he lets out a couple of breaths from pumping in and out of you so quickly. "Ready for me to make you cry again? That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes." You say, but he tugs your hair tighter.

"I can't hear you."

"Yeeeees!" You whine. "Yes, fuck, please!"

"Say my name."

"Jungkooook." You moan. "Jungkoook, hmmmmmpfh." Your ass almost feels numb from how hard Jungkook is fucking you right now, but it all leads to the pleasure building up inside of you - pooling right at your core. You were sure you could reach your climax again any moment now, but you were trying your hardest to hold on for as long as you could, enjoying every moment of the pleasure he was bringing you. You didn't want this to be over, even though you could go rounds with him if he wanted to. His hand travels from your hair, down to your neck, gripping just right to choke you and keep your head tilted at an angle. Your yes's are becoming inaudible, moans getting lost in your throat that is feeling constricted from his grip.

"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart. Cum with me." Jungkook says as he thrusts harder, the overwhelming sensation enough to send you into the next dimension. The orgasm ripples through your body, your hand gripping onto his wrist as you tremble and look for support.

"FuckkkkknnnnngJungkook!" You manage to yell. He moans loudly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spurts of his cum coating your walls warmly and thickly. He gives you two good slow thrusts before he's slowly pulling out and letting his tip stick the cum back inside of you. "Ahhh, please. Kook." You whimper as you fall onto your bed, tears staining your cheeks once more. He smiles as he picks up his boxers and throws them on, tossing you your panties and his shirt to wear. You slip into them without question, Jungkook coming back onto the bed to lay next to you and caress your body to soothe you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You sniff, the aftermath of all the tears you've shed from tonight's fuck session catching up to you.

"Babygirl." He chuckles as he wipes your cheeks and plants a kiss on it. "You need to be careful of what you ask for."

"Shut the hell up and pull up the movie, Jungkook." He laughs, watching you shove your laptop over to him. He pulls up the movie on his Amazon Prime account and snuggles with you under your sheets.

"Sooo, ready for our date?"

"Should I be preparing?" He shrugs.

"Just want you to have a good night with me." His hands are still caressing your sides under his shirt, light kisses being pressed against the nape of your neck. The warmth, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours makes you feel content. Satisfied. Peaceful.

You felt safe. You felt wanted.

youtube

baby we can take it slow, say my name, don't let go, I can hear your body when i pull your hair, what's my name; girl I swear, I can hear your body babe

track ten: body - syd

524 notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 3 years

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aura (II)

A/n: hi everyone! thank you for reading aura and enjoying it enough to ask for a part 2! i hope this lives up to what you guys want! Thanks so much <3 p.s. i am so sorry but I lost track of who asked to be on the taglist :-( So if u would like, please send me an ask and i will definitely add you next time i post about them!

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is no longer blue. he’s pink!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry always found Y/N to be a bit strange since his first encounter with her, but he never thought she was the type who could kill house plants with just the flick of her finger.

“What just happened?” Harry loudly questions, moving as far away from her as he could get. “How did you do that? What’s going on?” His aura is red and muddy gray. Anxiety, nervousness, and fear.

“How did I do what?” Y/N asks. She wasn’t willing to give herself up so easily.

“You killed my Pothos! I saw you,” Harry points at her accusingly. “Saw ya flick your finger and then it died. Do y’know how hard it is for that thing to die? I forget to water it all the time and it was still doin’ great!”

“Really? It didn’t look too great when I got here -”

“That’s not true,” Harry interrupts her. “You’re tryin’ to make me feel crazy! I know what I saw.”

It’s silent. Neither Y/N nor Harry says anything for what has to be at least half a minute. Y/N doesn’t know if she should tell the truth or try to convince Harry he didn’t see what he thought he saw, and Harry is too frightened to move. Finally, Y/N breaks the silence.

“Harry, it was your bad energy that killed your plant. I was just redirecting it because I didn’t wanna be stuck with it again.” Y/N nervously tugs on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?” Harry inquires, moving slightly closer to her once more. He was still frightened, but quite curious about how Y/N would explain the situation at hand.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. If there was one thing she knew, it was that her… capabilities were not really supposed to be shared with anyone. Of course, they weren’t! It was a hard concept to understand. It was assumed that people who didn’t have this ability would ostracize those who did— potentially even hurt them.

She knew in her heart that Harry wasn’t the type to ever harm her, but her mother always told her she could never be too careful. Y/N lived by those words, always replaying them in her head whenever she wanted to open up to anyone about all that she could do. Harry looks at Y/N expectantly, waiting for her to speak. She seems far away, lost in some thought that Harry didn’t want to break her from.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve always been a really empathetic person,” she starts. “It seemed like I always knew the right things to say to help someone feel better, and I could always cheer them up. My saying this isn’t to brag at all, it was just how it was.” Harry smiles at this but doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue.

“I realized something was different about me when my friend came to school one day really sad because her fish had died that morning,” Y/N inhales softly. “Of course I felt for her, you know? Like I said, I was a very empathetic person. When I went in to give her a hug though, I felt so weird immediately after! She was fine, though. It was like she didn’t even care anymore.”

“She just wasn’t sad about it anymore?”

“She missed her fish still, of course. She was just able to reflect on how happy having a pet fish made her and all the good times she had with him. I felt terrible, though. I literally had taken on her pain just from hugging her.”

As Harry takes in what she’s saying, it all starts to make sense to him.

The second time he met her, she was so adamant about knowing what was wrong with him. Harry thought he only felt better because he had talked to her about it instead of holding it in as he usually did (and that could’ve been part of the reason!), but she had also touched him.

It had happened so quickly, Harry didn’t even think anything of it. And why would he? It was nothing more than a gentle touch, gone as quickly as it was there. Now that he knew what he did, it all made sense.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

“You can ask me anything, Harry.”

“How do you always know when I’m not feelin’ well? Jus’ by looking at me?”

“Well,” Y/N starts, a bit hesitant. “I can see it. Your aura.”

“My aura?”

“Your spiritual energy— it has colors.”

“What color am I right now?”

“Red and gray. You’re scared and nervous.” Y/N responds quickly. She’s right.

“How can you see it?”

“I’m not sure. I started becoming able to see auras once I learned I was able to take away people’s emotional pain…” Y/N trails off. “I know it’s odd.”

“Can you… show me?”

“You want me to show you? Show you what?”

“The thing you jus’ did.”

“It only works when you have bad energy.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at Y/N in confusion. “Thought you said I was scared and nervous?”

“Well,” Y/N hesitates. “Now you’re… uh, pink.”

“Pink?”

“You’re feeling love.”

Harry feels his cheeks flush as he quickly looks away, hating in that moment that Y/N could literally see what he was feeling. If that was really the case, how much longer would he be able to fight with himself about how he felt about her if even she knew his true feelings?

He’s saved by the sound of his doorbell ringing, figuring it was his assistant dropping off lunch for him and Y/N. “Be right back.” He says quietly, getting up from the couch, still avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be confused.

She was beginning to notice that Harry turned pink around her quite often— literally. Not only would his skin flush at her presence, but his aura would change too. Y/N decided to tell herself there was no way it could mean anything. Of course it meant nothing! She just met this man. His feelings (or lack of) for her meant nothing. Y/N was just glad Harry couldn’t read her aura in the same way she could read his.

If he could, he would see she was always pink, too.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N.

She was magical. Literally.

After she had left that evening, Harry spent more time than he would like to admit researching auras and empathy. He learned there was a range of colors one's auras could be at any given time, and it was always subject to change. Harry figured that if he could see Y/N’s aura, it would always be shining gold.

Y/N didn’t explicitly tell Harry not to tell anyone about this, but he knew it was something he should keep to himself. He wanted her to trust him and know she was safe around him. Telling anyone what he assumed to be her biggest secret would do nothing but push her away from him— and that was the last thing Harry wanted.

He needed to hear her sweet voice again.

Harry didn’t want Y/N to think he was obsessed with her, but the cat was already out the bag. She could literally see that he had feelings for her. The way Harry saw things, this meant he could lean into his small crush on Y/N now rather than try and deny it. He just hoped she wouldn’t find him bothersome.

When she picks up his call after the third ring, Harry swears his heart just about beats out of his chest.

”Hi Harry. How are you?”

It takes him a moment to compose himself. “H- hi Y/N. Doin’ better, thanks for askin’... I was thinking of you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Harry hums. “S’why I called. What are you up to today?”

“Nothing, really. Just at work.”

Oh. Work.

Y/N was so celestial, heavenly that Harry had forgotten she at her core a regular person who still had to work to pay their bills, just like everyone else. Just like him.

“I don’t mean to bother you while you’re busy. I’ll let you go.” Harry offers this as a courtesy, but he’s hoping Y/N will say he’s not a bother at all and she’s happy to talk to him.

“I think that would work out a bit better. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. Bye, Harry!”

Harry is met with three short beeps that signify the call has ended.

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Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

He called her first! It made her heart flutter to know he was thinking of her. She’s glad he doesn’t know she was thinking about him as well.

It was nice to hear from him. Truth be told, Y/N was always worried about Harry. She worried that he wasn’t sleeping enough, eating enough, or telling people ‘yes’ when he should really be saying ‘no’. She worried he was unhappy. All she wanted was for him to be happy. Although Y/N couldn’t physically see him over the phone, she knew he was doing well today.

Y/N couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised to see Harry’s number flash across her phone. She thought that surely after telling him what she did he would want nothing to do with her. She was glad that he didn’t scare away easily, and that just made her feel even more warmth inside of her body. Y/N looked around the workroom filled with her other co-workers and she hoped there was no one else like her in the building lest they see how pink she was. She was absolutely smitten!

“Y/N, are you with us? What do you think?”

Y/N is broken out of her thoughts by her boss with the call of her name. In her Harry-haze she had completely zoned out, forgetting she was in the middle of an important work meeting.

“I’m very sorry. My mind was somewhere else for a moment,” she turns to face her boss, eyes wonder-filled. “Would you mind repeating the question?” Y/N sees her boss briefly turn from red to pink and back to yellow before he repeats himself, clearing his throat.

Y/N smirks to herself. Men were too easy.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“What’s got you so smiley?”

Harry jumps slightly, redirecting his attention to his manager. “Whatdya mean?”

“Been smiling and strumming your guitar for ten minutes straight,” Jeff narrows his eyes at Harry. “Are you thinking of that girl again?”

“Y/N,” Harry corrects him immediately. “What are you gonna do if I am?”

“Tell you to snap out of it, man. She’s got you this distracted already and she doesn’t even know you have a crush on her?”

Harry wants to tell him that she does even though he’s not explicitly stated it, but then that would lead to a conversation that wasn’t his to have. So he changes the subject—slightly.

“What do think about me inviting Y/N to the studio? You’ll finally be able to put a face to the name,” Harry adds once he sees the look his manager gives him every time he’s about to tell him no. “I trust her. I jus’ want her opinion on a few things. I know she won’t leak anything.”

“I’m not sure if that’s your greatest idea…” Jeff trails off giving Harry one of his infamous looks of doubt.

“I wouldn’t even be suggesting this if I didn’t trust her with everything in me. ‘Ve never suggested this any other time, have I?”

Jeff gives Harry a pointed look, although he can’t argue with that.

“Fine, invite her. She’s signing papers though…”

Jeff’s voice is nothing more than background noise as he dials Y/N’s number, which he embarrassingly already knows by heart.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

When Harry comes out of the large, wooden double-doors to meet Y/N, he’s glowing. He’s a flash of dazzling gold and pink, his aura not being able to just land on one. Y/N is flattered that he still turns pink when he sees her, and relieved to see him so happy. So relaxed.

“So glad you could make it,” Harry tells Y/N, pulling her in for a tight hug. “My manager had a fit when I told him you were comin’, he’s jus’ very protective of me and my music. Don’t take it personally.”

“I understand,” Y/N tells him honestly. “I don’t blame your manager for not being too keen on me crashing in on one of your sessions. I could leave my phone in the car if that would make you both feel better?”

Y/N made things so easy. She was perfect in Harry’s eyes.

“I trust you completely. It might make my manager feel a bit better though…” Harry trails off, feeling sheepish. Y/N nods and unlocks her car without saying anything, retrieving her phone from her purse and hiding it away in her glove compartment.

“There. Just me and my ears now.” She lets out the sweetest giggle Harry’s ever heard, and he swears he could melt.

“Follow me, then.”

Harry makes his way back inside the studio but feels weird with Y/N trailing so closely behind him, not speaking or physically touching him. He stops and turns to face her, reluctantly reaching his hand out for her to grab. She looks at him for a moment, analyzing his energy before shakily intertwining her finger with his. Harry glows pink—so much so that he was nearly shining red. Y/N was having a difficult time differentiating between the glow of his aura and the glow of his cheeks.

He continues walking down the hall, now feeling like he was on top of the world because he had the most beautiful girl in the universe’s hand in his. Harry was ready to get to work. She was his new biggest inspiration.

Y/N’s having the greatest time watching Harry’s colors. He’s so happy and full of love! The fact that Harry was in such good spirits possibly because of Y/N made her feel like she was floating on a cloud.

Harry feels Y/N’s hesitation to enter the room that now holds not only Jeff but Mitch as well. She pulls back slightly on his hand, hiding timidly behind his broad shoulders. “What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, turning to face her.

“I don’t think they’re happy to see me…” Y/N trails off.

“How do you know?” Harry asks habitually before he realizes who he’s talking to. He knows how she knows. He internally cringes at his question.

“They’re both red,” she shifts from foot to foot. “I can leave. I don’t want to cause any problems—”

“No!” Harry says a bit too loudly. Jeff and Mitch turn to look in their direction, finally aware of their presence. Harry blushes, speaking a bit more quietly. “Sorry. Jus’... don’t leave. I promise they’re not mad that you’re here. They’re just a bit nervous because you’re new and they’ve never met you before. I’ll tell ‘em you left your phone in the car though and it’ll all be good. Yeah?”

Y/N nods, not completely certain Harry could get these men to warm up to her just because he said so. He tilts her chin up so she’s looking in his eyes, and he gives her a warm smile.

“Hey… what color am I?”

Y/N swallows thickly before answering. “You’re yellow… and pink.”

“See? ‘M not red. It’s all good, darling. Believe me when I say that.”

Y/N’s heart beats faster at the pet name and she just hopes Harry can’t hear it. She gives him a forced smile before grabbing his hand again and following him inside of the small room.

“Jeff, Mitch,” Harry starts, swinging Y/N’s hand in his. “This is Y/N.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Jeff says. Harry shoots him a look, silently pleading him to not say anything that’ll embarrass him. Luckily for Harry, Jeff catches onto this and keeps his introduction simple. “I’m Jeff, Harry’s manager.”

“Hi,” Y/N responds. Harry’s heart-strings feel like they’re being tugged at when he hears how quiet Y/N has become. “I left my phone in the car.” Jeff shoots Harry a surprised looked to which Harry gives a small nod in confirmation. Jeff hums, satisfied.

“We’re glad you could join us. I’m not sure if you have any experience in music, but it’ll be nice to get a fresh opinion on some things.”

Mitch gives Y/N a small nod and a smile, and Harry feels her grip on his hand tighten. “Don’t worry. Mitch is just shy.” Harry quietly reassures her. She loosens her grip on his hand slightly, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Where should I sit?”

“Y’can sit on that couch over there. Can I get you anything to drink? Have you ate, I can order food if you haven’t?”

Harry and Y/N are in their own world, only focused on each other. This doesn’t go unnoticed to Jeff or Mitch, and they share knowing looks behind the pair’s backs.

“What do you guys want to eat? Y/N hasn’t eaten yet,” Harry says, already searching for his text thread with his assistant. “Sushi? Mexican?”

“Whatever Y/N wants,” Mitch says, strumming a few random chords on his guitar. “Anything’s fine with me.”

Harry’s satisfied with this answer, just wanting to give all his attention back to Y/N. “Whatdya want to eat, love?”

“Do you all like veggie pizza?”

“Eh–”

Harry shoots Jeff a look that tells him not to disagree with her, so Jeff looks down and acts preoccupied with his phone. “That sounds really good, Y/N. I’ll order that.”

Harry actually hated veggie pizza. He hoped Y/N couldn’t tell.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

”I just miss your accent and your friends…”

Harry was blue and Y/N hated it.

She knew he was pulling from old memories for his songs, but she hated when he was upset. Y/N was in a trance, though. Harry’s voice was beautiful. His songs pulled her in like magic. They were captivating, and so, so beautiful.

Y/N was enjoying being in the recording studio. She never had any experience like it, and it was interesting to see all the hard work that went into making just one song.

”Don’t you call him “baby”, we’re not talking lately,” Harry sings into his microphone sadly, licking his lips during the pause. “Don’t you call him what you used to call me…”

Y/N just wanted to go into the recording booth and hug Harry, take his pain away. She knew now wasn’t the time nor place for that, though. She’d check on him later.

“That’s good,” Jeff says, giving Harry a thumbs up. Harry gives him one back and takes his clunky earphones off, setting them beside his feet.

“How was that?” Harry asks Y/N as soon as he’s out of the recording booth. The musician in him knew it wasn’t bad, but he still wanted her praise.

“Very beautiful! Are you okay?” She gives Harry one of those knowing looks he’s growing to love. He shrugs, leaning down to speak quietly to her.

“Singin’ about someone who used to be very special to me,” he says, glancing down at his Vans-clad feet. “I’m okay, though. Don’t worry about me.”

Y/N wanted to tell Harry she always worried about him. She wanted to scream it in his face so he understood how much she cared for his well-being. She does neither of the two. “Okay, Harry. I’m just checking.”

Harry loved that she was “just checking”. He wanted to tell Y/N that he never wanted her to stop caring for him, as he would never stop caring for her. He does neither of the two. “Thank you for checking, Y/N.”

Unbeknownst to them, they were both falling deeper for each other.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Y/N, are we gonna watch our movie tonight, or are you busy?” Y/N’s roommate, Amalia, peaks her head into her bedroom. Y/N was busy hanging upside down on her bed. Texting Harry.

“What? Oh, is it Friday? Let me just take off my makeup... “ Y/N locks her phone and slowly sits up, taking care not to smush her sleeping kitty who was currently snoring beside her.

“Who were you texting? You’ve been on your phone a lot more than usual lately,” Amalia notes, coming completely into Y/N’s room. “A boy?”

Y/N feels her body heat up at her roommate’s observation. “Maybe…”

“Y/N! You’ve gotta tell me! Who is he, is he cute?” Her roommate makes herself comfortable on Y/N’s bed, folding her legs beneath her. Sapphire startles slightly but quickly falls back asleep, curling her tail closer to her.

“You might know him,” Y/N begins. She and Harry never had a conversation about telling others about their association with others. She trusted her roommate, but she wasn’t sure if he would appreciate it. She decides she’ll just call him. “I’ll actually just call him. Hopefully, he’s not busy.”

Amalia finds it odd that Y/N would rather call this man than just tell her about him, but she says nothing, of course. She was used to her roommate’s behavior. She was different, and that’s why she loved her so much!

“Can you FaceTime him? I wanna see what he looks like,” Amalia claps her hands together out of excitement, feeling anticipation bubble in her stomach. She was hoping her roommate finally found someone for her so they could join her and her boyfriend on double dates and couples game nights.

“FaceTime him?” Y/N had never done that before. She and Harry always just spoke on the phone, and lately, they had gotten into texting. She hoped he wouldn’t mind. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Y/N pulls up the app on her phone and types in Harry’s contact name (which was ‘Harry’ with three pink hearts, which she would never tell him!) and bites her lip as she waits for him to answer. As an afterthought, she reaches for her earphones and connects them to her phone just in case her roommate recognizes his voice. After all, everyone on the planet knew who Harry was except for Y/N. He answers almost immediately, a dimpled smile on his face and a beautiful pink light surrounding him.

“Was jus’ thinking of you. Are we in sync? I swear I was about to call you,” Harry tells her, not being able to stop his toothy grin. “Is everything okay?”

“Well,” Y/N feels nervous. His gaze is still as intense and attentive, even though a phone screen. “I’m just hanging out with my roommate and she noticed I’ve been smiling at my phone a lot—”

“A very observant roommate.”

“Yeah, and she wanted to know if I was texting a boy. I didn’t know if it was okay to say anything but she’s beside me so do you want to say hi? It’s okay if you don’t want to, and I’m sorry if you’re busy right now…”

Harry’s gaze visibly softens. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“You know why.”

Harry hums. “I’d love to meet your roommate. Go ahead and give her the phone.”

Y/N examines Harry for a moment, trying to determine if he’s telling the truth. His aura is slightly tinged red but it’s mainly yellow, making him glow the color of a sunset. He was probably a bit anxious, but he was happy. That was most important to Y/N. Amalia is sitting at the end of Y/N’s bed quietly, scratching Sapphire’s head while she waits. She watches as Y/N unplugs her earphones from her phone and wordlessly hands it to her.

Amalia’s mouth drops.

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Harry.”

Amalia’s entire body feels tingly.

“H- hi. Uh, I’m Amalia. Y/N’s roommate,” she looks up at Y/N, eyes wide. “It’s… wow. I’m sorry, I kinda don’t know what to say right now. I’m such a big fan of yours!”

Y/N hears Harry’s beautiful laugh and she smiles. It was his shy laugh. He was flattered. Maybe a bit flustered.

“That’s very, very nice of you. Thank you for the support.”

“Are you and Y/N dating? I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” Amalia gives Y/N an accusatory scowl and she feels her body heat up at her roommate’s words.

“Not at the moment, but I’m working on it,” Harry tells her. Y/N doesn’t need to see him to know he’s pink. “I think she was jus’ tryin’ to protect my privacy. Which I appreciate, of course. But a friend of Y/N is a friend of mine! She has good judgment.”

Y/N can’t believe Harry’s “working on it”. He cares for her much more than she had initially thought, and Y/N just hopes he knows how much she cares for him as well. Even if she doesn’t say it.

“I’m gonna give the phone back to Y/N before I say something to embarrass myself, but it was really nice to meet you!” Amalia shakily hands the phone back to Y/N as Harry is telling her it was nice to meet her too.

Y/N is happy to see his face again. He immediately turns pink once he sees her again, a light blush tinging his cheeks. “She’s very nice. We should all go out to brunch one afternoon, how’s that sound?” Y/N nods, glancing at her roommate who currently looked like she was on the verge of fainting, bright pink just as Harry was. She was infatuated.

“Amalia’s amazing,” Y/N replies. “I was just calling to say hi, but I’m glad to see you’re doing good. I’ll talk to you later?” A deep indigo color slowly surrounds Harry at the prospect of Y/N ending the call, making Y/N frown. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Friday’s are our movie nights…”

“Oh!” Harry turns yellow again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from that. I’d like that, though. Lunch tomorrow?”

“And the studio?” Y/N asks, used to their routine. Harry shakes his head.

“Was thinking we do something else. Get out of there for the afternoon? ‘M sure you get bored jus’ watchin’ me sing all day. The last thing I want is for you to be bored.”

Y/N nearly laughed out loud. She was never bored when she was with Harry. She could simply sit and watch the grass grow with him, and she’d still be thoroughly entertained.

“I don’t want you to fall behind because of me.”

“S’my album. I can take a day off, darling. Hey–– can ya look at me?” Y/N knows Harry is asking her to examine what color he is. She nods after a moment.

“Okay, Harry. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” she takes a thoughtful pause as she usually does. “Have a good night.”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes. You too, Y/N.” The call disconnects. Y/N feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. Counting down the minutes.

She was counting down the minutes, too.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was nervous to see Y/N. He hadn’t been alone with her since the day at his house when she came over to keep him company while he was sick. Their relationship was progressing quicker than anticipated, but neither of the two had any complaints.

Per Harry’s request (or, after a ton of his begging) Y/N agreed to let Harry pick her up instead of driving separately and meeting up like they usually do. He was excited to finally know where Y/N lived. When he thought of any space Y/N cultivated, he imagined it to be a bit cluttered. Lots of paintings on the walls. Perhaps some personal photographs of friends and family.

When Harry approaches Y/N’s apartment complex, he isn’t surprised to see that she lives in one of the oldest-looking buildings he’s ever seen. He was sure that when he asked her about it later, she would tell him that old buildings had the most character or something along those lines. Harry parks in record time, albeit like a bit of an asshole, and grabs the bouquet of flowers he picked up on his way to her before hurrying out of his car. His sunglasses immediately go on and his beanie gets pulled low over his forehead in the off chance there was someone who could recognize him anywhere nearby.

“Four, eight, two, five,” Harry mutters Y/N’s gate code under his breath as he approaches it. “Four, eight, two, five…” He’s delighted when it works. Against Y/N’s wishes, he didn’t write it down when she told him, adamant about having the best memory in the world. He was glad he didn’t forget it and have to call her and ask for it again.

Harry has no difficulty at all finding her apartment. Just as she said, there were several potted plants surrounding the door and a plaque that read, ‘Welcome to our home!’. He smiled to himself. It was just so Y/N. He firmly knocks and takes a step back, tightly gripping the bouquet in his hands. The door flies open moments later and Harry is met with Y/N’s beautiful face. His nerves immediately dissipate.

“Hi, Harry–– oh! Those are beautiful!” She opens the door a bit wider. “Please, come in!”

Harry’s happy. She seems happy. Of course, he couldn’t know for sure in the way that he could, but Harry was quickly learning her mannerisms.

“Hi, darlin’. S’nice to see you,” he leans down to place a delicate kiss on her cheek. “You’re lookin’ as beautiful as ever.”

“I haven’t even gotten changed yet,” she replies dismissively, shutting the door. “I completely lost track of time. I was helping Amalia get ready for a date that she’s going on and it made me forget all about ours.”

Harry could die a happy man right now. Y/N just referred to their spending time together as a date!

“No apologizing,” Harry says sternly, handing the flowers to Y/N. “‘M not upset about it, am I? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Y/N looks down shyly at the shabby rug beneath her feet. “Do you wanna help me pick out an outfit? I’m not too sure about what I should wear… I really think it would help if you actually told me where we were going.”

“Nice try,” Harry chuckles, following her through the apartment. It looked just as he pictured it would. “Already told you it’s a surprise.”

“I thought I would try again.”

Y/N’s room was incredible. There were plants everywhere even more than the ones surrounding her front door. Some were even hanging from the ceiling! Her walls were a pale yellow color. She had glow-in-the-dark stars and planets stuck to her ceiling, a ginormous rug that covered probably half of her wooden floor, and paintings taped haphazardly to the wall. It looked like she made them herself, too. They were lovely.

“Your room is amazing,” Harry tells her, flopping onto her bed while she digs around in her closet. Even though he had never been there before, he immediately feels comfortable. At home. “Where’s Sapphire?”

“Oh, she’s around here somewhere,” Y/N’s voice sounds a bit muffled from being in her closet. “She might be hiding. She doesn’t like men.”

“Did you tell her that I’m nice?”

Y/N turns to look at him, two shirts in her hand. “I can’t force her to like you, Harry. What do you think about these shirts?”

“I think you would look good in all of them,” Harry feels his heart rate pick up under her gaze. “You may get cold if you wear something sleeveless, though.”

Y/N says nothing in response, just stares at him. To anyone else, her staring may be weird, but Harry knew what she was doing. He stares back at her just as intensely, raising an eyebrow. Finally, she nods, turning her attention back to her closet.

“Should I wear something with long sleeves?”

Harry hums in response to her question. “I think that would be a good idea.”

Y/N turns to face him again, tugging at her oversized sleep shirt. “Do you think you can take down some shirts on the shelf for me? I don’t feel like going to get a chair all the way from the kitchen…”

“Of course I can,” Harry immediately gets up from his lying position on Y/N’s bed. “Which ones?”

“The ones in that corner,” Y/N replies, standing beside Harry. He never noticed how much shorter she was than him until she was asking him to reach things off the top-shelf for her. Harry loved it.

He reaches up with ease, grabbing a stack of neatly folded long-sleeves. In the process of pulling them down, a box comes falling off the shelf, hitting the floor with a loud clang! and the sound of broken glass. “Shit,” Harry mutters, bending down to reach for the box. “Sorry about tha’, pet–”

“Don’t touch that!” Y/N exclaims, pushing past Harry to grab the box before he does. Harry backs up, putting his hands up in the air like he was a criminal who’d just been caught.

“I didn’t touch it, I promise,” Harry quickly reassures her. “Why can’t I touch it? What is that?”

“Remember how I was telling you about bad energy?” Her voice drops to a whisper. Harry nods. “This is where I store everyone's bad energy whenever I get stuck with it. They’re in little viles, you know what I mean? Those little tubes?”

“Yeah.”

“I think the tubes broke when it fell… I can never open this box again because then the bad energy will get out and go back to their owner's body.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, trying to take in what Y/N just told him. It wasn’t the oddest thing he’s heard since he met her. “Is any of my bad energy in there?”

“Yes. Remember when we were at the Greek food place?”

Harry smiles at the memory. “How could I forget? I think that was the day that I knew I had to get to know ya. I was properly obsessed with the idea of runnin’ into you again for days.” Y/N looks away as she usually does when he gets her flustered but this time Harry moves closer to her, snaking his arms around her waist.

“Thank you for always makin’ sure ‘m happy, love,” Harry’s lips are dangerously close to hers, so close that she can smell the scent of mint on his breath. “You don’t even have to touch me to make me happy. Jus’ bein’ near you is enough.” Y/N lets out a shaky breath, not trusting her voice enough to do anything other than nod. Both of their hearts are about to beat out of their chests.

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Harry,” Y/N finally says, staring directly into his eyes. “You deserve all the happiness this life has to offer you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, feeling intoxicated from standing so close to her. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Y/N gives Harry the biggest smile before standing on her tiptoes, smushing her lips against Harry’s. His eyes shut as he melts into the kiss, having to remind himself to stop smiling so he can properly kiss her back. Her lips are soft, and she tastes just as sweet as she actually is. His entire body tingles and his chest burns due to lack of oxygen, but he was determined not to break the kiss first. His stomach twisted from all the butterflies he had, but it was a feeling no one had made him feel in a long, long time.

Y/N’s the first one to break the kiss. She giggles as she rests her head against Harry’s chest, gasping slightly for air. “You’re a very good kisser.”

“You too.” Harry’s breathless. He doesn’t want to pull away from her so he settles on intaking short bursts of air.

“I’m gonna get changed before I decide to stand here and just kiss you all day,” Y/N tells him, finally breaking their contact. “Can you wait in the living room?”

“I wouldn’t hate that,” Harry says as he places a quick peck on her lips. “‘M gonna go put your flowers in something so they don’t die. Y’think Sapphire will come out of hiding and let me pet her since her mommy finally let me kiss her?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I thought we were getting lunch?”

Y/N had been sat in Harry’s passenger seat for slightly over an hour now, his hand hardly leaving hers the entire time. He was yellow for the most part (except when Y/N would speak he turned pink). Song after song played lowly over the stereo, but it was mainly just background noise–– neither one of them was really listening to it.

“We are.”

“Why are we driving so far?”

“I wanna take you to a really nice spot. Is that okay?”

“Are we almost there?” She stares intensely at Harry and she knows he can feel her eyes on him. He flashes red for a moment causing Y/N to cock her head in confusion. “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t want you to think our date is boring.”

“Why would I think it’s boring?”

“Have you ever been to Balboa Park? San Diego?” Harry tears his eyes from the road briefly to look at her and he’s relieved to see a look of excitement in her eyes.

“I’ve never been but from the pictures I’ve seen it looks sooo beautiful! Are we going there?” Her grip on his hand tightens slightly.

“Mhm,” Y/N sees Harry visibly relax. “Figure we could grab a bite after? Or before, depending on how hungry you are.”

“We should eat before! Are we allowed to eat in the park? We should have a picnic–– can we do that?” Y/N is talking a mile a minute, too excited to slow down. She turns in the passenger seat to face Harry fully, hand still in his. “We’re going to the gardens, right?”

“We’re doin’ whatever you want, love. I have some things planned that I think you would like but nothing’s set in stone.”

Y/N loves the fact that Harry took it upon himself to plan out their day. She decides she would go along with whatever he had planned, seeing as he’s been there before and she hasn’t.

They arrive at the park approximately thirty minutes later and Y/N quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and lets herself out of the car before Harry can open the door for her himself. He laughs to himself at her excitement.

“Where are we going first?” Y/N reaches for Harry’s hand seemingly out of habit, not thinking twice before doing so. If she wasn’t busy looking around in awe, she’d see Harry looking down at their interlocked fingers with a big smile on his face.

“How ‘bout we get you something to eat first then go find a spot to have a lil’ picnic? The last time I was here I remember seein’ people eating under this ginormous tree–”

“Okay!” Y/N agrees cheerily, dragging Harry through the parking lot. She was leading the way even though she had no clue where she was going. “Wait, where are we going?”

“How about I lead the way?” Harry is a mixture of green and yellow. He was happy and enjoying the prospect of a nature-filled day.

“Harry, what’s your favorite part about nature?”

“What’s tha’?”

“I see that you like nature, so I just wanted to know what you liked the most about it,” Y/N replies, swinging their hands.

“It’s calming. I think ‘ve written some of my best songs surrounded by trees and water and things like that. What do you like the most about nature?”

“It’s beautiful. Plants help us and we help them.”

Harry smiles in response to her answer but says nothing, walking her the rest of the way through the parking lot and to the entrance of the park. Once inside they set out on finding something to quickly fill their stomachs with, not wanting to waste too much time eating.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Harry asks, nodding his head in the direction of a sandwich shop. “Quick and easy, isn’t it?”

“Can we still eat them under the fig tree?”

“Whatever you’d like, darling. S’your world, ‘m just livin’ in it.”

Even though he lets out a chuckle after saying that, Y/N knew he was being completely serious.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry could listen to Y/N talk all day. He never wanted to stop hearing her sweet voice. Y/N’s attention was fixated on the beautiful, blooming gardens–– but Harry was only fixated on her.

She pointed out nearly everything they saw, impressing Harry with her knowledge on plant names and pointless information on how to care for them. She asked Harry to stand in front of all her favorite plants so she could take a picture of him to “commemorate the day” and Harry was more than willing to do so. Anything to keep a smile on her face. Y/N had grown tired of carrying her purse over her shoulder about an hour back and Harry even offered to wear it for her so she wouldn’t have a sore shoulder the next morning.

They decided to call it quits once the sun started setting, walking hand in hand quietly back to Harry’s car. He opens the door for her and checks to make sure she’s all the way in before slamming it shut and walking around to his side. He immediately reaches for her hand again, loving the way it felt in his way too much to not hold it at all times.

“Did you have a good time today?” Harry asks, looking at Y/N’s face in the dim light. She nods sheepishly, looking down at the hands.

“I had an amazing time. I can’t believe you drove all the way out here just for me,” she traces her fingers over one of Harry’s rings. “Thank you for today.”

“How many times have I gotta tell ya I’d do anything for you?” Harry questions, leaning over the center console to be closer to her. “Loved seein’ that beautiful smile on your face today. Made me happy.”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Oh, come off it,” Harry jokes, kissing her cheek before leaning back over to start his car. “Know you saw how happy I was the whole day. S’all because of you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Y/N lean over as he previously was so her face is close to his. She gently places the hand that was holding Harry’s on his face and turns his head so he’s fully facing her, licking her lips before she connects them with his. Harry melts into the kiss as he did earlier, feeling as if time stopped when their lips were pressed together. It was the most gentle, loving kiss Harry ever shared with another person.

He could get used to this.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

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ladydeznutz · 3 years

Text

When He Loved Me (Peter Parker x Reader)

A/N: My first fic and it's angst that came into my head around 3am. I've always wanted to write fics, but I didn't like how I wrote and I was embarrassed. First time writing for others so I tried to keep away from using just she/her pronouns, but if that's what you'd like just lemme know

I can write for other fandoms, and imma make a list of the fandoms I like bc I have so many I forget. I'll also add some other things if it interests me. Not comfortable with nsfw just yet so apologies. Anyways, enjoy the fic ig and please give me criticism if you see something wrong

idk how tumblr works with spacing and all that so hopefully this comes decent looking

Prompt: Please, don't leave me.

TW: S**cide mention

Every day had started to feel the same to you for a while now.

It started when he began missing date nights with you. He was always so excited about them, and then they were happening less and less often. You still saw him on occasion, but it felt more like "business" than anything else.

You didn't get the same giddy feeling you used to get when you'd see him; it felt like going out with him was more of a chore. You couldn't even complain to him about it even if you wanted to. Anytime you did see him long enough, he was always gone within a second, always in a rush. You never knew what he even did with himself or if he was thinking about you at all.

It definitely didn't help that you'd always catch him hanging out with his friends. You confronted Ned about it, but he was always so dismissive. Hell, you had even talked to Michelle about the whole thing. At first, she sympathized, but then it was as if a switch was flipped. You used to go to her to vent about Peter and the relationship. Now, she was practically telling you that you were overreacting.

----

You felt like you were going to have a mental breakdown.

Learning about a loved one's passing is always one of the hardest things for anyone to deal with, especially when it's someone you deeply care about.

You had just received the news that your best friend had killed himself a couple of hours ago.

You didn't know how to feel.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. There was no warning.

You and he had been friends since childhood, and you knew each other so well that neither one of you could even remember a time when the other wasn't around.

Your hands shook as you picked up the phone to call Peter. Your tears finally fell as you listened to the constant ringing of the phone, and you knew he wasn't going to answer. Rage grew within you as you heard his voicemail message causing you to throw your phone across the room. It crashed into the wall and broke, but you didn't pay any mind to it as you fell to the ground and let out a wailed sob.

Why did this have to happen?

You could barely catch your breath between sobs.

Your body shook.

You didn't care about anything anymore.

You didn't care about Peter anymore.

----

Weeks had passed, and Peter was exhausted.

Tracking down a gang, taking them down, and meeting another Spider-Man had just been a lot for him to take in. He was so tired, he didn't even want to think about it anymore. His back ached as he climbed through his window.

He was just so damned tired.

He stripped out of his suit, took off his web-shooters, and placed them back in his closet. Then, he took a quick shower.

His job was a bit easier to have Ned and MJ know he was Spider-Man. Now he just had to tell you.

Peter stood in the middle of the room and weighed out what would happen. He felt sorry for lying to you, and he knew that he was being distant. He just didn't have the courage to deal with any of it because he was worried about you. He couldn't lose you too.

As Peter lied down to finally get some rest, he wondered how you were doing. Karen had said you tried calling him, but he couldn't answer he had been in the middle of a stakeout.

He got up and rummaged through his book bag to get his phone, turning it on to scroll through his messages. He sat up as he realized how many he had gotten. Had something happened?

As he scrolled through, his heart broke. So many people had posted about the loss of Jay and were gossiping about why he did it. When he finally went through them all, he looked at your one missed call and gulped.

You had called him that day, and he didn't pick up.

He clicked the voice mail and listened to the message. All that he could hear were your pained sniffles, a shout, and then the line cut off.

He felt sick as he replayed the message.

Peter already felt awful about lying to you; he had to fix this. He quickly texted you, put his web-shooters back on, and was ut the window.

He knew the way to your house, so it took him no time to et there. As he was getting ready to knock on your window, he did a double-take and took a closer look.

Someone was sitting in your room; it looked like he had been waiting for you. Peter quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the guy. He was wearing a red and green jacket with shorts and sneakers. He also looked like he was wearing tights?

Suddenly, you walked into the room, so Peter backed away from the window to hide in the shadows. You seemed to be upset as you were wiping your eyes quite a bit.

"I'm sorry Miles. I didn't think I'd start crying like that," you said as you sat on your bed.

"Hey, it's okay," he replied as he stood up and moved closer to you. You sniffled as you tried to regain your composure. Peter didn't quite know how to react. Who was this? What was going on?

"I just...he..." you groan out in frustration as you grip your hair. Miles' eyes widen as he sees tears start flowing from your eyes again.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug as you shake your head.

"It's complicated, and besides, that's what our therapy's for" you chuckle dryly. Miles' eyes wander the room as he tries to think of something to do to cheer you up. "How 'bout we go out tonight?" he suggests.

"I don't like the tone of that voice" you sass as you turn to give him a look. Peter watches Miles turn around, and his eyes widen. Miles was wearing a suit, a Spider-Man suit. The same Spider-Man he saw the other week.

"Any place you wanna go to, we'll go" he adds with a cheeky smile. "Really? You're not busy?" You cross your arms as you stare him down.

"Nah, night's been quiet. Besides, I might be busy tomorrow, then you'd miss your favorite person in the world" he winks as you begin to smile. Peter's heart sank as he realized what was happening. He thwipped a web to the building across from yours and sat down on the edge of the roof. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text.

Can we talk tomorrow?

Giggling could be heard from across the street. Peter looked up and bit his lip as you glanced at your phone and threw it on your bed. You got onto Miles' back, and you both swung away.

----

After you tried calling Peter that day, you stopped reaching out to him altogether. You decided that you'd wait to talk to him until he finally realized you weren't there. It had been about five weeks, and in those five weeks, you had gone to therapy and counseling.

You met Miles in counseling. He was sweet but seemed to get off topic a lot. When you were getting ready to leave one session, he had come up to you, put his hand on your shoulder, and let out a simple "Hey." One thing led to another, and you had both bonded over your losses. You went to Miles' uncle's funeral, and he went to Jay's funeral with you.

You were currently sitting on a swing at the playground as you waited for Peter. It was taking him forever to show, and at this point, you wanted to get this whole conversation over with.

Frowning, you looked around, wondering why he was taking so long. He should've been here by now. Maybe he decided not to come after all.

When that thought crossed your mind, you scoffed and stood up. Before you could go anywhere, however, you felt someone gently grab your hand. Looking back, you saw Peter staring at you with a small smile on his face.

"You came."

"Of course I did"

Peter pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around you. You take a deep breath as you stare off towards the slide. He pulls away when he realizes you're not hugging him back. The both of you pull away awkwardly as you look at each other.

"Peter-" "(Y/N)-" both of you speak at the same time.

"I- I have o tell you something" he starts with a stutter. You wait patiently as you motion for him to continue. "I know th-that I've been....not here for you for a while-" he cuts himself off when he hears you scoff.

"I.....I had these things, and I should've told you as soon as we started dating, and I'm sorry. I know I've been an asshole, more than that actually" you roll your eyes and shake your head as he continues.

"I just.....I love you, and I want you to know that even though I don't show it a lot" he finishes as he rubs the back of his head nervously.

The good thing about coming to this park was that there was usually no one here, and you were glad no one was here right now because boy were you fuming. "Told me about what Parker?" Your hand goes to your hip as you glare at him.

"W-Well....uhm......that guy that you talk to.......I'm like him I guess. Spider-Man." Your eyes widen when you hear the first part. "How the hell do you know I've been talking to someone?"

Peter stumbles with his words as he realizes he's been caught red-handed, "Uh...I was gonna visit yesterday, and I kinda....saw you..talking to him....." You narrow your eyes as you pick up a stick and throw it at him. He ducked before he could get hit, but you were already in his face.

"You were spying on me?!"

"I-I wasn't trying to! I was just-"

"Christ Peter!" All this time of you not being here, and now all of a sudden you just wanna show up out of nowhere because of what?! Jay?! Is that why you're finally talking to me?!" Panic stirs in Peter's eyes as he tries to come up with an excuse.

"I tried so hard to get you to talk to me, and you only wanna talk now because of that shit?! Peter, I can't do this shit with you anymore. I don't care if you're Spider-Man; what was the point of not telling me in the first place?! We live in New York for God's sake!!"

Your face is red as you frustratingly wipe away your tears with your forearm. Peter stays silent as he watches you; he can't say anything right now because you've hit the nail on the head.

"Y-You know what, fuck this. I can't do this shit any-anymore, Peter. But please tel-tell me; w-what did I do wrong? I di-did my best to keep both of us h-h-happy. Please, just tell me what I did wr-wrong." Your words are barely recognizable as you hold yourself to keep you're shaking body still.

Peter steps forward, but instead of stopping him like he thought you would, he cups your face gently as he looks into your eyes.

"(Y/N).....I'm so sorry I made you think this was all your fault. You did make me happy; you still do. I just...I've been so busy being Spider-man that I've neglected you, and I'm sorry for that. But I do still love you, (Y/N). I swear I'll stop doing everything just for you. I-I'll give up being Spider-Man."

You watch him unravel as he keeps talking. You can't bring yourself to care, however, as he spills his heart out. Too much disappointment has built up over the months.

"Pete...."

"Please......(Y/N), just give me another chance. I'll do anything, just please, don't leave me." His voice is soft and insecure as he begs you, almost quivering as he says it. It doesn't invoke any sort of feeling in you though. His sad eyes watch as you pull away from him,

"I'm sorry Peter" you whisper softly as you turn around and walk away.

He doesn't run after you or even shout.

Peter simply watches you walk away until you're out of view. The only thing he can hear is your footsteps as they fade into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Alright so...this whole thing was based on how I could see him being Spider-Man in the beginning ig? Imo I feel like between him and Miles, the latter would be the first to tell you he's Spider-Man

And I always felt like him being away like that with no real reason would make an s/o feel like it's their fault or sumn. Like, I've always seen fics where he and the reader always make up about it, but I wanted to try the bad ending where even though he had good intentions, he's just not ready to handle being a hero, student, and partner.

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #miles morales #miles morales x reader #marvel mcu #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #peter parker imagine

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Once Again (PT.3) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART THREE

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: A little Iwa and Hoisuke sketch to accompany this chappie ❤ Thank you for all the love and support. My inbox has boomed since I last posted and I’m so grateful that it is being appreciated by y’all :,) <3

ON TO PART THREE! Let me know what you guys think of this part :) xx

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

------

"Miss Y/N! You came!"

Hoisuke has a beam on his face the moment you step into the Iwaizumi household. That slightly calms your jittery nerves as you remove your shoes and step in, balancing the container of cookies in your hand.

"Hi Hoisuke," you greet back with a smile, "I brought your favourite cookies."

"Really?!"

"Really," you hand him the container with a grin, relishing as he oohs and aahs as he gets a whiff of the said baked treats. He beams up at you, "thanks miss Y/N. You're so cool."

"Not as cool as you are," you ruffle his hair and he giggles, before grabbing onto your hand and tugging you inside, "come, Daddy's warming up the pizza."

To be honest, part of you had combusted when you'd read over Iwaizumi's message repeatedly to make sure you weren't reading it wrong. The other part of you was screaming that this was definitely out of bounds and plus, could you consider this to be a sort of date?

No, of course not. Definitely not. He'd invited you over as a friend. And because Hoisuke liked you.

When you put it like that, it stung a little.

As Hoisuke drags you into the living space, you spot Iwaizumi grabbing for beers in the fridge and he nods at you, "hey."

"Hi," you reply, feeling a bit shy.

"The pizzas just got here," he says, chin jerking towards the pizza boxes already set upon the coffee table, surrounded by four plates, "a friend of mine is joining. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, not at all."

"Uncle Tooru! He's the best volleyball setter ever!" Hoisuke adds with a clap of his hands, eyes sparkling with excitement, "do you play volleyball miss Y/N?"

"Nope," you singsong, "I can't even catch a ball."

"But you always tell us to do well in PE."

"Do what I tell you and not--"

"Not what you do," Hoisuke sings along and you can't help but laugh before ruffling his hair fondly, "at least I know you're listening in class!"

"I always listen to you, miss Y/N."

"Unlike his father," Iwaizumi points out while walking over to the pair of you and handing you a beer can, "whom he never listens to."

"But you don't listen to me, daddy."

"Wha--yeah I do."

"Noooo uncle Tooru had to beg you to invite miss Y/N over when I told you a hundred times!"

You burst out into a fit of laughter just as Iwaizumi hollers out, "wha--No! That's--"

"Uncle Tooru said that you should man up and invite her otherwise he'll do it himself," his son chatters on, oblivious to the redness rising in his father's ears, "what does man up mean, miss Y/N?"

"Okay that's enough babbling," Iwaizumi's hand shoots out to press down onto Hoisuke's head. He nudges it towards the couch, "bring miss Y/N to the living room. Scoot."

"But--"

"Now." His father scowls. His son scowls back and you try to shove down the round of laughter bubbling up your throat, for they look like the spitting image of each other and they probably don't even know it.

You reach out, tugging Hoisuke by the shoulder, "come on then. What movie are we watching?"

It makes you slightly giddy on the inside to hear such words fall from Hoisuke's mouth. If there's one thing you've learnt from being around children is that they never lie. That, coupled with the way Iwaizumi's face has reddened a deep shade of tomato, is enough to cause a small tingling in your chest.

Since Oikawa is goig to be late, the three of you decide on watching Harry Potter -- Hoisuke's current obsession at the moment -- while munching on too-greasy pizza and washing it down with beer, coke for the minors. It's been a while since you've watched the series, thus finding yourself cheering and hollering along with Hoisuke which feels like you're seeing it for the first time all over again.

Multiple times, Hoisuke would turn and beam up at you, sometimes hugging your right arm and burying his face into your shoulder during action-packed scenes. You'd be lying to say you don't enjoy his warmth sticking to your side, sniffing the soft baby scent of his hair that still clings to him. The smell of childhood filled with innocence and maybe out of impulse, you pull him a little closer.

You're so immersed in the moment to notice the pair of coffee-coloured eyes are gazing at you with growing tenderness.

"Hellooo! Cool and Handsome Uncle Tooru is here!"

You jump at the sudden intruder's voice booming through the apartment, followed by Iwaizumi's scoff upon meeting your eyes. Hoisuke bounds up without delay, rushing to the door while crying out, "uncle Tooru!"

"Hi my beautiful boy!" Oikawa does not hesitate to sweep him up into his arms, kissing his cheek in affection and causing the child to giggle, "how's my favourite person doing? Has iwa-chan been treating you well?"

Hoisuke nods jovially, giggling some more when Oikawa pinches his cheek, "alright alright. You look dashing--oh, Iwa-chan! And this must be the famous Miss Y/N you've both been telling me about?"

You pink at his words but it doesn't faze Hoisuke in the least, "yeah! Isn't she pretty? She's the best teacher ever and her cookies are amazing!"

"H--Hi," you nod at Oikawa shyly, quickly avoiding his gaze to stop yourself from combusting with embarrassment. You've forgotten how beautiful this man actually is even though his reputation preceded him.

"Ahh it's nice to meet you Y/N," he flashes you a sweet smile, causing you to flush right down to your toes while you manage to stutter, "n--nice to meet you too, Oikawa-san."

"I see why Hoisuke and Iwa-chan like you," Oikawa turns to wink at Iwaizumi, "I approve!"

"Shut up Shittykawa," Iwaizumi scowls.

Oikawa gasps mockingly while covering Hoisuke's ears, "Iwa-chan! Not in front of the child and the lady!"

"I said fuck off--"

Oikawa's quick to slap his shoulder, hollering, "no swearing either! Oh gosh, excuse him Y/N. He gets very flamboyant whenever I'm around. If ever he does swear at you, it's just a matter of showing his affection."

You let out a laugh, spurred on by how red Iwaizumi's ears are, "I'll keep that in mind. I didn't know Hoisuke's dad was such a potty mouth," you say, narrowing your eyes playfully at the said man who scowls in return.

"Only when Oikawa's around," he states, crossing his arms over his chest with an expression that mimics his son's sulking.

"What's a potty mouth?" Hoisuke asks as he and Oikawa take their respective seats, the latter swiping a slice of pizza out of Iwaizumi's plate, who growls and kicks at his shin in turn.

The handsome man groans while you turn to Hoisuke, "potty mouth means someone who swears a lot."

"Like daddy?"

"Uhm--" you stutter, his response causing Oikawa to burst out laughing, "yes! What a bright little mind! Totally like your Uncle Tooru!"

Before Iwaizumi can bash Oikawa's head in, you hurriedly resume the movie with the excuse that the best part hasn't come up yet. That simmers down the atmosphere a little, all eyes now captivated by Harry Potter and his friends fighting against the ogre. Hoisuke gasps, nails digging into your arm as he latches on for dear life, all actions not going unnoticed by the pair of men.

"I like her," Oikawa mouths out to Iwaizumi, whose scowl deepens tenfold.

As per what the rumours stated, Oikawa is fun and easy-going to hang out with, a complete stark contrast to his best friend. You understand why people tend to gravitate towards him the more the evening wears on. It’s not just the fact that he puts you at ease and is naturally adept at making conversation, but it’s in the genuine spark of interest in his eyes, a look that says that he’s listening to you even if that might be faked on his part. It’s that expression stating that he cares, that makes you realize why Oikawa Tooru had been such a hotshot back in your high school days.

So why do your eyes still manage to find their way to the brooding figure on the other side of the couch, who is filled with nothing but spiteful comments and sarcastic responses?

Oikawa's little 'pssst' snaps your attention back to the present to find the sais man pointing at Hoisuke while mouthing "he's asleep." Indeed, your eyes travel down to Hoisuke's tiny figure slumped against your side and your mouth curves up in an affectionate smile.

You're about to shift him into your arms but Oikawa beats you to it, deftly slipping the boy into his arms and glancing between you and Iwaizumi with that same knowing smile that sets you on edge, "I'll tuck him to bed. Iwa-chan, buy me snacks would you?"

"Hell no--" Iwaizumi starts protesting only for Oikawa to walk out of the room, whistling softly without waiting for an answer. You sigh silently, pressing your lips together and glancing at Iwaizumi from the corner of your eye.

He averts his gaze, but not quickly enough, grunting softly, " wanna go?"

"To the convenience store?"

He nods, already moving to grab his jacket by the door as you scramble to join him while trying not to act so desperate to spend just a little more time with him.

The evening is colder than you'd expect, a mixture of wind and rain that makes him curse slightly while you hurriedly open up your umbrella the moment you step into the street. He nods, mutters a 'thanks' and guides you down the pavement where you jostle your way through evening strollers.

Quite surprised by the amount of movement on the street, you catch yourself asking, "is your neighbourhood always that busy?"

"I think there's a fancy fair around the corner," Iwaizumi sidesteps a man as he speaks, his shoulder brushing yours and sending warmth all the way down to your toes, "give me that."

Without warning, his hand engulfs yours holding the umbrella up and jumping at the contact, you quickly retract your hand, "thanks," you murmur, glad that the dark conceals the red splotches dotting your cheeks.

Your mind races to find something --anything -- to get you out of this awkward predicament. You'd die if he finds out how fast your heart is beating, "so uhm--Oikawa-san seems nice. You still keep in touch with him frequently then?"

"More like I can't get rid of his annoying ass," Iwaizumi mutters.

You chuckle, causing his eyebrow to quirk up, "what's so funny?"

"I'm just wondering whether Hoisuke will turn out like you when he grows up," you can't help but grin up at him, "you have a talent for dissing people."

"Only the ones worthy of my attention."

"Am I not worthy of your attention?" You tease.

He scowls down at you, "you're Hoisuke's teacher, that complicates things."

"In what way?" A passerby suddenly nudges against you and you stumble slightly, only to feel Iwaizumi's arm clasp your shoulder to steady you.

He's warm, your mind chants. And he smells good. Like citrus.

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice your flustered countenance, "watch it," he barks out. Then, he turns back to answer your question, "how do I know you won't make Hoisuke fail his grade if I upset you too much?"

"Woah there mister. I didn't know I was that low on your list."

"That's not what I meant," he growls. A few weeks before might have caused you to fear his temper. But things are different now and you've come to know that it's just in Iwaizumi's nature to be so rough around the edges.

So you just bump your shoulders against him, flash him an understanding grin, and say, "I get it, hothead. No need to get riled up."

"What'd you call me?!"

Bursting into fits of laughter at how easily triggered he gets, you reach up to ruffle his hair, "down, boy--"

And that's when it hits you -- you are touching Iwaizumi's hair. Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck.

Your hand drops like wildfire, body instantly cowering away with a furious blush, "I'm so sorry," you squeak out, "that was not appropriate I know--"

Someone else bumps into your back which knocks you straight into the said man's chest. His hands find your waist on instinct as he steadies you both and for a minute, the world stops moving. Nothing matters, apart from the fact that your face is pressed against his torso, his scent overwhelming your nostrils with bliss, his warmth making you melt ever so slightly.

"Asshole," you hear his dim hiss like an echo in the back of your head. Dazed, your eyes stay glued to his shirt in hopes that he won't notice your embarrassment, "s--sorry about that," you squeak out.

Only then do you feel his gaze slide down to your face. He asks gruffly, "you okay?"

"Fine."

Dear god. Someone kill you now.

"Come on," and before you can protest, you feel his warm hand wrap around your own as he tugs you along, ensuring that you are tucked into his side while he weaves through the throng of people.

You're glad he can't see your face, nor the way your pulse is racing underneath your skin.

And the more you gaze at the strength of his shoulders, the more you are hit by a crumbling realization:

That you might be falling for Iwaizumi Hajime, and that might be the worst decision you’ve made yet.

----

He tells you about his married life when you sit outside the convenience store that evening, about how young and inexperienced he was, and how it had ended on pretty bad terms.

The fact that he even opens up about the topic surprises you, but nevertheless, you want to hope that it's his way of showing that your relationship isn't just tied by Hoosuke.

“Why...” you hesitate slightly, tentative, unsure whether one word will cause him to clam up, “why did it not work out? With you and Hoisuke's mother?”

It is to be expected that you are met with his silence. It’s stoic and filled with warning, and you quickly scramble for an out, “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me,” you bow your head and bite your lip.

“She wanted more.”

His words catch you by surprise. You blink, before looking up at him. He doesn’t look away.

It takes a moment. Then, he murmurs:

“She wanted more...of everything. Things I couldn’t give her.”

It stuns you, that he’s so outright. Your mouth opens, but you don’t have anything to say, and you don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he continues thickly, “she was never satisfied with what I gave her. Always complained that I wasn't enough of a man to sustain a family," he pauses, "I think she was envious. She worked in a big corporation as a financial auditor, and her friends -- well, they all live pretty decent lives. So when we always had our arms full with cleaning up after Hoisuke, they went to get cocktails and eat sushi. I guess she felt like she was missing out somewhere along the line."

It's not the things he says, it's more about the way he says it, voice so thick with emotion that you can hear the tears about to fall from his lips. Your own chest aches with sympathy and your fingers ache to reach out to just hold him.

But you're not that close. You know it's not within your boundaries.

Iwaizumi chuckles before your mind can form a coherent answer, "sorry. Didn't mean for it to get depressive."

You turn to look at him, gaze at the way the streetlight dances over his side profile and down his jawline, "You don't have to say sorry, Iwaizumi-san," pausing and unsure whether you should go on, you decide it's worth the risk, "and while I don't blame her priorities, well, ...was money really such an issue that she left you and Hoisuke behind?"

He shrugs half-hearted, "not my place to say. I was labelled the cheap bastard that wasn't worth shit when she decided to sleep with her ex."

Disgust coils in your stomach, but you decide on letting the anger simmer silently in the pit of your stomach. You don't realize, however, that your fist is clenched so hard into your lap until the warmth of Iwaizumi's fingers flutter over your own.

You look up in surprise only to find his dark orbs searching your face, "hey," he murmurs out quietly, voice surprisingly soft, " s' okay."

You flush against the chilly night air, "sorry," you mumble, "I just-- I know how it feels like. Not to feel like you're enough."

He doesn't respond, only watches you intently. You continue, "my boyfriend cheated on me back in college. I didn't know about it, until six months later."

Iwaizumi sucks in a breath and his fingers tense over yours. Your throat feels scratchy, "so I know the feeling."

"Asshole," is what slips out of his mouth. You chuckle half-heartedly, though with the way he isn't pulling away from your hand makes you feel warm and giddy on the inside.

You'd like to think that this little bit of time spent together has brought you closer, if only to share your woes. But one thing's for sure, you think to yourself as you slowly walk back to Iwaizumi's flat now that the crowd has thinned out, Is that you both have Hoisuke's best interests at heart.

And that is your top priority that you should not forget. Even if you can feel your breath tug in your chest every time your eyes linger a little too long upon each other's.

----

Ha, who the hell were you kidding?

It’s almost impossible to put the certain dark-eyed, dark-haired scowling face of a man out of your mind as the next week comes by. It’s even harder when Hoisuke is more than intent on spending time at your desk in-between classes, chatting on about what he and his father were up to throughout the week. And though you restrain yourself from asking too many questions burning at the back of your tongue, you can’t help but be drawn to the small snippets of Iwaizumi’s life as presented by his son. Even if it’s presented by his son.

So why do you find yourself back in his apartment the very next week with flour all over your clothes ans currently coaching Hoisuke to make figures with his clumsy five-year-old hands?

"This is hard miss Y/N," Hoisuke pouts, arms dropping to his sides, "can't you do it?"

"But that would be no fun," you nudge him playfully as you work on your own little cat figure, "all you need is patience, practice and love."

Glancing at the clock above Hoisuke's head to see that it's already past six in the evening, you wonder where Iwaizumi and Oikawa have disappeared off to. They hadn't told you anything, only that they were picking up some groceries. You guessed it was merely the thought of baking that made them so reticent.

"Don't worry miss Y/N. Daddy's coming back soon," Hoisuke says, as if knowing exactly the thoughts occupying your mind.

"Where did your daddy go anyway?" You decide to play along and ask casually as you move behind Hoisuke to help him mold tiny fingers.

"He and uncle Tooru said that they wanted you to taste the food from the sushi place they love," he then adds casually, almost like an afterthought, "daddy said you looked tired."

He said what now? Your eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.

The sound of the door opening grabs your attention, revealing a dishevelled Oikawa in the doorway with grocery bags hanging from his arms, "we're back with food!"

"Uncle Tooru! Look at the cookie I'm making!" Hoisuke doesn't hesitate to tug onto Oikawa's shirt and drag him to the kitchen counter to marvel at the little misshaped man. Dusting your hands onto your apron and turning to help Iwaizumi, your step falters upon noticing the undecipherable expression shadowing his features.

"Iwaizumi-san?" You blink.

It's gone in a flash, replaced by his usual scowl, "sorry we're late," he murmurs as you help him with the takeaways. You try not to think too much into the way he'd been staring, but your own heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe--

Stop. You mentally slap yourself. Stop it right there.

Similarly, Iwaizumi is having the exact same mental debate.

Don't get him wrong. There isn't anything he loves about the fact that you've just created havoc in his kitchen. Had he insinuated it when he'd asked about your famous cookie recipe? Maybe. But shit man, call him old and cranky but the amount of cleaning up after the mess in his kitchen is something he isn't looking forward to.

But that small nugget of stress instantly melts away the moment he lays eyes on you and Hoisuke, together. Hoisuke is giggling, you are holding onto his hands, maneuvering them so as to make a semblance of a human limb. You're both dusted with flour, pink in your cheeks, and Iwaizumi swears his heart is going to drop out of his chest.

"Daddy daddy! Wanna see the man me and miss Y/N made?"

"That miss Y/N and I made," you corrected out of impulse, grinning as the child repeated what you saie with no less conviction, and Iwaizumi forced himself to move towards his son with nonchalance, "let me see."

Now that he thinks about it, he shouldn't be inviting you over so casually like it's a weekly thing. And maybe you don't even want to be there. Maybe you're just doing him a favour because you pity him. That's enough to make him sick in his stomach.

But this thought dissipates the more the evening wears on and the more he catches your soft eyes, the motherly affection you radiate towards his child, the gentle giggles falling from your mouth.

Iwaizumi wants it. He wants it so bad his heart aches.

And Oikawa seems to know exactly what he's thinking. Or maybe he's too obvious.

"This is so good," you groan in satisfaction while digging into the takeout sushi. Oikawa doesn't hesitate to pipe up, "right? Iwa-chan literally dragged my butt out of town for th-- fuck!"

He howls, clutching his leg where Iwaizumi had kicked at it in growing irritation and when you look at him in confusion, he feels his face grow red, "don't listen to him."

"Uncle Tooru, you're a bad man. You said the F word," Hoisuke chimes in, "it's okay though, daddy. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The redness of a fire engine can't compare to the flush riding the back of his neck. He wishes for the ground to swallow him at this very inetant, though his lips do quirk up in a smile seeing you burst out laughing before ruffling Hoisuke's hair.

"I see the way you look at her," Oikawa tells him a few nights later upon meeting up at the gym where they both train a few nights a week. It is also one of the few times where Hoisuke stays at his mother's place.

Iwaizumi grunts in response. He turns his head away to focus on his pushups, but if his best friend can deduce from his face alone, then that's an obvious way of showing his embarrassment when he is past the point of denial.

"She likes you too you know," Oikawa casually throws in, wiping the sweat from his face as he straddles a rowing machine, "she's like an open book."

"You don't know that," Iwaizumi hisses as he bends his arms, lift them with another grunt.

"Oh yes I do. And if you're smart you'd do something about it before someone else comes in to swoop her away."

As annoying as he is, Oikawa has a point. The nagging thought eats away at his subconscious mind the more Iwaizumi turns his feelings over in his hands. Despite this, he invites you out with him and his best friend one Saturday night and is mildly surprised that you accept so quickly.

"How have we never met if you went to Aoba Johsai?" Oikawa asks while munching on a french fry. As per his request for greasy comfort food, they'd ended up dragging you to one of their local eateries that make the best burgers in town, "would've noticed a cutie like you."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grinning, "simple, I didn't have any talent. I sang like I was deaf and had two left feet. And don't get me started on sports."

"You could've been a cheerleader," Oikawa smirks evilly, causing you to swat him and reply, "unless I wanted to come out of high school with two broken legs, which I did not."

"Good thing anyway, Iwa-chan hated those cheerleaders with a passion," Oikawa nudges him, "whenever I'd get bombarded with them he'd just scowl and they would scurry off like ants. They were scared shitless!"

"As if you didn't like watching those cheerleaders," you throw Iwaizumi a smug, pointed look with raised eyebrows, to which is scowl deepened. But you're used to it at this point, it doesn't even make you flinch.

"They were annoying and whiny. Why would I like them?" He muttered into his strawberry milkshake. A surprising revelation, considering his bitter, rough countenance.

"Cause they were hot."

"Cause they had long legs."

You and Oikawa blink at each other before you burst out laughing. Iwaizumi merely rolls his eyes, "idiots," but his mouth says otherwise, tugging up in amusement.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Oikawa-san?" You ask aa you munch on your burger.

"Bah, girlfriends don't agree with me."

"He's too much of a playboy to get himself a girlfriend," Iwaizumi mutters loud enough to reach your ears and you snort at the dagger-eyed stare Oikawa throws him, "I can't just give that," he motions towards his figure, "hot bod to anyone, Iwa-chan!"

"Mine's hotter than yours."

"Shut up! Why are you always so mean to me? You know I've been working my ass off for those back muscles!"

Your snort causes your milkshake to spurt from your nose and as Oikawa yelps and scoots furthest away from you, Iwaizumi doesn't hesitate to thrust a bunch of clean napkins in your face, chuckling deeply as he eyes you with the same fond amusement he's been denying himself of in the last few weeks.

Is it selfish? To want more of you than he can have? To feel the naked throb of his fingers that ache to reach out and just tuck your hair behind your ears?

Of course it is. If he does that, he'll cross a line he isn't quite certain he's ready for yet.

Daddy, do you really really like Miss Y/N? Hoisuke's voice is as clear as water that same evening, after he's tucked his son in, after all lights have dimmed in his flat and he sprawls atop his bed with heavy eyelids and a content stomach.

Yes, he thinks to himself as his eyes slowly slip shut, I think I do.

Fuck.

-----

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