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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?”

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything.

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head.

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit.

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get.

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak.

“What if… you don’t go?”

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it.

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself.

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.”

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days.

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.”

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.”

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm.

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning.

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead.

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips.

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold.

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?”

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.”

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it.

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you.

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill.

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect.

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-”

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.”

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling.

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it.

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his.

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.”

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable.

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line.

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head.

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.”

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before.

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes.

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room.

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all.

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go?

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same.

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae.

It was Taehyung.

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.

“We weren’t arguing.”

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know.

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you.

Neither of you said anything.

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from.

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice.

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess.

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did.

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact.

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope.

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways.

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all.

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?”

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you.

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious.

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart?

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask.

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name.

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too.

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you.

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart.

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.”

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious.

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him.

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway.

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too.

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be?

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand?

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him?

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes.

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack.

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him.

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no.

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed.

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down.

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window.

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him.

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son.

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes.

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?”

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him.

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into.

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did.

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything.

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs.

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen.

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you!

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat.

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off.

“Y/N!”

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy.

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now.

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run.

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand.

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more.

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that?

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again.

He had to hate you.

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair.

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists.

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!”

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale.

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point.

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!”

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes.

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead.

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much.

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground.

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood.

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook implied smut #bts x reader

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 8 months

Text

Seams drabble: Patch

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.

Warnings: Pure fluff and love for this girl, some angst, coming out, total disregard of canon because I don't know how it goes in the game.

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: This idea struck me out of the blue many months ago, and I was waiting for 'the right place' in the series, until I mentioned it to a dear friend in passing conversation and then I just started writing it. Very lightly edited. Set at unspecified time frame after Part IV.

Ellie hums to herself from her spot in a cosy corner of the Outfitters, one watchful eye on the door. It’s an uncharacteristically slow Saturday, but she’s not complaining - she has her hands full.

A big canvas sack lies empty on the floor, its contents strewn haphazardly all over the wooden floor. The mess drives you up the wall, but you know better than to question her (very questionable) methods, so you’re ensconced in the safety of your studio while she sorts through the clothes and odds and ends that the patrollers brought back from their most recent outing.

Though infrequent - most settlements around Jackson have been painstakingly pilfered for anything useful over the years - it’s her favourite duty at the shop. Lucy is looser with the rules, but sometimes, you let Ellie keep little knick knacks that won’t sell.

The teenager goes through the pile thoroughly. Shirts go in one stack, jeans in another, followed by shoes, hats and scarves. Turning to the heap of smaller loose trinkets, she separates mismatched buttons, safety pins, shoelaces and zippers (as Maria always says, every little help), when something colourful piques her attention.

Plucking the piece of fabric out of the jumble, Ellie recognises it as a decorative patch that she’s seen sewn onto bags and shirts. It’s the size of her palm, cut in the shape of a rainbow, the colours still bright. Over the arches, bold white text outlined in black spells out NYC PRIDE 2003.

Tucking it into her pocket for now, she quickly finishes the rest of the sorting. Clothes go into the bin to be collected by the laundry, shoes for the cobbler’s, and accessories into a box to be priced and shelved.

Ambling into the back of the shop where you’re busy hemming a pair of jeans, Ellie plops into one of the rolling chairs, straddling the back of it, and the wheels screech as she careens across the floor to your sewing station.

Your lips quirk as you look up briefly at her. ‘Find anything interesting?’

‘Just this,’ she replies, flashing you the patch and reading aloud, ‘NYC Pride 2003. What does that mean?’

‘There used to be a big pride parade for the LGBT community every year in New York City,’ you explain. ‘They used to close down the streets and everything for it, it was a huge event.’

Ellie blinks, your answer taking her by surprise. She clears her throat, a distant buzzing at the back of her head as she turns the patch over pensively in her hand. ‘What - do you know what it was like?’

‘I’ve never been to one, but it always looked incredible. People used to line the streets in support, and everyone dressed up. There’d be rainbow flags everywhere, floats, dancing, music, and of course, it was an important way for the community to highlight and push for LGBT rights.’

‘You mean -’ she pauses, the unfamiliar feeling of stumbling over her words making her hands sweat. ‘You mean, people would just be out in public, like, being themselves?’

‘More than that - they were celebrating themselves.’

Ellie doesn’t realise she’s fallen quiet until you speak, ‘You can keep it if you want.’

Her head snaps up, disoriented. ‘Keep what?’

‘That.’ You nod towards the patch she’s clinging onto so tightly that her knuckles have gone white.

Panic prickles the back of her neck, an embarrassed heat suddenly making her want to pull at the collar of her flannel. But then you shrug and say, almost flippantly, ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Yes,’ she blurts out in hasty agreement, letting out a breath she’s been unconsciously holding. ‘It’s very pretty.’

Ellie is relieved when you turn back to the sewing machine, leaving her to retrace her steps to the front of the shop. The patch sits on the counter, where she leaves it, as she goes about her business for the rest of her shift.

Her eyes travel to the rainbow, and she thinks of how she wasn’t like the other girls at school, who fawned over dogeared photos of singers and actors long dead. She thinks of how she’s always known she’s different, but didn’t have the vocabulary to express it.

She thinks of Riley.

Riley.

For Riley.

When half three rolls around, you spot the teenager lingering by the studio doorway out of the corner of your eye, her backpack dangling from her fingers. Any other Saturday, you’d be lucky to catch the blurry shape of her shadow when she gallops out of the shop, throwing a see ya over her shoulder.

Thrown by her silence, you prompt, ‘Yes, Ellie?’

Scruffing the tips of her well-worn sneakers on the floorboards, she bites her lip in an atypical display of hesitance. ‘Pin, could you help me sew the patch onto my backpack? Please?’

You smile, eyes soft. ‘I’d love to. C’mon.’

‘You don’t have to do it now,’ she protests, feigning nonchalance, but her twitchy hands give her away. ‘Like, whatever, it’s no big deal.’

Wanting to put her at ease, you shrug. ‘No time like the present. Where do you want it?’

Putting her bag on your work surface, she points. ‘Guess right here under the wings.’

‘Perfect. Can you unzip the bag for me?’

You have Ellie hold the rainbow exactly where she wants it while you thread the needle, and you start sewing it in by hand, stitch by tidy stitch. It barely takes a couple of minutes, but time is of the essence - you haven’t heard the girl take a single breath of air since the anchor stitch.

Snipping off the thread with a flourish and giving it a once over, you grin. ‘There, all done.’

Ellie ducks her head, quiet as she takes the bag from your hands, running a thumb over the arches of the rainbow. Without a word, she suddenly throws her arms around you, hugging you tight.

‘Thanks, Pin,’ she mumbles into your hair.

Your heart swells, and you squeeze her back even tighter. ‘Anything for you, kiddo.’

On Monday morning, Ellie hovers in the hallway outside the kitchen, observing.

Joel is at the table, oblivious with his back to the door, her breakfast of two fried eggs over and easy and toast waiting at her usual spot at the table. Taking a deep breath, she bites the bullet and walks in, backpack in her hand.

‘Mornin’,’ grunts Joel, almost done with his own eggs, sunny side up.

‘Morning,’ she parrots back as she makes herself comfortable.

She usually just dumps her bag on the floor, but today, she pulls out the chair next to her and drops it into the seat. The unusual movement catches Joel’s eye, and he takes a good long look at the backpack.

Eventually, he points vaguely in what she assumes is the direction of the rainbow patch, and says, ‘That looks new.’

‘Yup, Pin helped me sew it on.’

He purses his lips, asking around a mouthful of egg. ‘You know what Pride is?’

She swallows thickly, and it takes a beat to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Yeah, Pin told me.’

He nods, then turns his attention back to his plate with no fanfare.

Not entirely sure if he caught the nuance but her mind too in knots to care, Ellie picks up her fork and doesn’t think twice when he gets up to put his dish in the sink.

She nearly chokes on eggs when strong arms close around her shoulders in a vice-like grip, scratchy beard on her temple, Joel’s voice so thick that it makes her think if she turns around, she’ll see tears in his eyes.

‘Proud of you, baby girl.’

Later that afternoon, Joel finds you alone in the shop, restocking the women’s outerwear rack.

You toss him a smile over your shoulder. ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’

‘Lucy ‘round?’ he asks.

‘When is she ever?’ you quip with no bite.

Three steps and he’s spun you around by the waist, soft lips latching onto yours in a sweet kiss with just a hint of heated aftertaste that has you swaying on your feet when he pulls back.

A breathless laugh bubbles in your throat as you palm his whiskered jawline. ‘Why, thank you for that, Mr. Miller.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and he brushes his nose tenderly against your cheek. ‘No, thank you, sweetheart.’

Notes: I hope I wrote Ellie's coming out as sensitively as I hoped to. As I mentioned, I have no idea how or if she comes out in the game, but despite being such a chatty teenager, I think she'd find it difficult to broach the subject with Joel in conversation. For me, this was a fun way of weaving in her part-time job at the Outfitters and Pin into her coming out story that stays true to Ellie's character. I hope you enjoyed this - comments and reblogs appreciated as always!

P.S. I am not 'back' back, so I don't know when I will next update Seams. Thank you for your patience while I try to navigate my way back to some semblence of writing regularly, whenever that may be.

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #seams drabble #the last of us fanfiction #ellie william fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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sometimesanalice · 6 months

Text

Seeing Double

Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)

(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)

Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.

The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.

When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.

And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.

One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.

Fuck.

It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.

As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.

Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.

More often than not, you were thinking of him.

More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.

More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.

The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.

You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.

He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.

He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.

If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.

Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.

You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.

So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.

And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.

You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?

Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.

The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.

It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?

You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.

There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.

Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.

You wanted your effort to look effortless.

Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.

You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.

Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.

Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.

You flop down and take in the carnage.

Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.

You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.

Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.

Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?

You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.

You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)

Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)

You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)

Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)

You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)

Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...

You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)

Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here

You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️

🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...

Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.

He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.

The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.

You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.

It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.

He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.

You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.

You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.

How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.

Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.

You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.

That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.

You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.

You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.

He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.

You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.

What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.

You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.

Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.

You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.

The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.

It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.

It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.

You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.

And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.

There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.

Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.

On your way to Bradley.

When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.

He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.

Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.

They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.

Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.

Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.

His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.

He looked damn good.

But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.

He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.

There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.

Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.

The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.

They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.

Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he snorts, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.

“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”

“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”

“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”

Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.

“No shit,” Bradley laughs.

“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”

“See you on Sunday for brunch.”

He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.

Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.

He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.

Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.

He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.

Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.

He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.

Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.

That is whenever you get here.

Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.

No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.

Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.

He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.

You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.

After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.

His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.

Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.

He liked that you were his girl.

Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.

Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.

He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.

“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.

“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.

“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”

He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.

Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.

“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.

“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.

“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”

“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”

“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlicking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.

He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.

“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.

As always.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”

“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”

He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.

Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.

“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.

“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.

“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.

She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.

“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.

“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.

“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.

Rooster and Nat exchange a look.

This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.

Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.

The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.

“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”

“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”

“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.

“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.

“Not all at once,” Bradley mutters.

“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.

“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”

“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.

“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”

Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.

“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.

That gets his attention.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.

He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.

You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.

Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.

You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.

There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.

It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.

You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.

Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.

He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.

A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.

He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.

Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”

“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.

He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.

“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”

He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.

“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.

“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.

“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”

“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”

“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”

“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”

He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”

“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”

“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.

And in that moment, he just knows.

The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.

“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.

“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.

He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Bradshaw!”

Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.

You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.

He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.

And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.

Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.

You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.

Yeah, it looks really good on you.

Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!

If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!

If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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Heartbroke Bitch

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Ex!Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

TW: 18+, drug and alcohol use, angst, fluff, self destructive behavior, I think thats it

Summary: When youre left heartbroken, you cope in a less than healthy way. But what happens when Rafe sees you hanging on the arm of one of his best friends? (Loosely based off Escapism by Raye)

Word count:3.2k

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2!

Ever since that night, you've been a different person. Rafe ending things sent you reeling and the words keep playing in your head like a record.

"It's just not going to work. I'll have Sarah drop off your things."

That was all he gave you before all but kicking you out. He didn't even have the respect to give you a reason, though you've come to the conclusion it's because you're a pogue. You and Rafe never should have started anything in the first place; you knew you were playing with fire.

JJ and John B tried to talk sense into you, but you were too lovestruck. All you cared about was the misunderstood kook king, and now you're heartbroken. The first week you cried and drank as the group tried to get through to you.

The following weekend, you went out to a kegger at the boneyard and saw Missy Thompson giggling into Rafe's ear and something inside you snapped. You were tired of feeling hurt, so you decided to beat him at his own game.

"Where are you going dressed like that?"

There's a teasing lilt to Sarah's voice, but you don't miss the concern in her eyes. She already knows the answer to her question. You've spent the last three weeks staying out until sunrise, various drugs coursing through your veins and different men sneaking out every morning.

Your eyebrow quirks as you look down at your less-than-modest outfit and shrug.

"Out. I was invited to that new club."

JJ frowns and stands to walk over to you. He stops a few feet away and you look at him expectantly.

"Again? Y/N/N, you can't keep doing this. I mean I'm always down for a good time, but you're going to hurt yourself."

The pain in his voice causes your chest to tighten and you roll your eyes to cover it up. That's exactly why you're doing this; you're tired of feeling hurt and so far losing yourself in white powder and men whose outfits cost more than your car has proven to be effective.

"So what if I do? I'll be fine, JJ. Don't worry your pretty little head." You smile while patting him playfully on the arm.

They watch as you walk off and give each other worried looks, unable to do anything but stand by as you set out on a path of self-destruction.

An hour later you're in the VIP section sipping on champagne that's expensive enough to solve all your money problems and having a great time. The music is loud enough to drive your thoughts away and you let yourself get lost in the moment.

You aren't sure who the people here are; you've made a lot of new acquaintances since going out more and you just happened to strike up a conversation with the man that brought you here. You're not even sure what his name is.

You think it's something along the lines of Andrew, or maybe Everett. You don't really care enough to remember; you just know it's something pretentious that reeks of old money. Not that it matters much. By morning he'll just be another notch in your belt and you'll never see him again.

You're just about to do a shot when a familiar voice calls your name. You look up with a frown, trying to place where it came from. A smile breaks out when you place its owner and Topper plops down next to you.

His arm wraps loosely around your shoulder and you lean in a bit, happy to have someone you know around.

"Didn't expect to see you here."

Topper isn't exactly known for tolerating - much less liking - pogues but he grew fond of you during your time with Rafe.

You nudge him lightly with your shoulder and he grins.

"A pleasant surprise, I hope."

He leans in a little closer and nods. You can't help but notice his spicy yet sweet cologne as his body heat radiates against your skin and it's almost as intoxicating as the alcohol.

"Very pleasant. You smell good. Like cotton candy and tanning oil."

Your eyebrows raise at the forward comment and you let your eyes drop down to look at his lips.

"You like it?"

The other man is long forgotten as Topper invades your personal space and suddenly your target changes.

"I love it. What is it?"

You lean back with a laugh and the way his body chases yours isn't lost on you. The game is afoot and you've discovered you love the thrill of the chase.

"Something expensive. That's all I'll say, a lady never reveals her secrets."

His smile turns devilish and his nose presses against the column of your throat to inhale your scent again.

"Something tells me you're not much of a lady."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as he flirts back and your hand laces in his hair to tug his head back.

"You have no idea, Top."

Your words hang in the air for a moment before he pulls you closer so you're halfway on his lap. You watch as he pulls out a baggy and waves it at you suggestively, your face lighting up as you nod while he sets it up on the table.

You don't think twice before bending down and snorting a couple lines, tilting your head back with closed eyes. This has become a regular occurrence for you, and Topper lets out a surprised laugh before copying your previous movements.

"Didn't take you as the type to do party drugs." He admits and you press farther into him.

"Mmm, there's a lot you don't know about me."

A few minutes later you're both feeling the effects and you gladly follow Topper as he takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. You aren't paying attention to what song is playing as you grind on your ex-boyfriend's friend, your hands wrapped around his neck as he nips at your shoulder.

Rafe immediately feels annoyed as he walks into the loud venue, his first instinct being to turn around and leave. Before everything with you, this would have been his scene. However, despite being the one to call it quits, he's been having an exceptionally hard time.

He thought it would be easy to move on, but every time he tries, his thoughts are consumed by you. He gave up hope after he moaned out your name with another woman and she slapped him before storming out. He didn't realize he was in love with you until he watched your tail lights fade in the rain.

He downs a shot to settle his nerves, the burning sensation distracting him from the thumping bass. He's just about to take a seat when his eyes land on you. Bile rises in his throat as he watches you party without a care in the world.

He thinks this hurts worse than the initial breakup. Seeing you laugh and dance as if you aren't feeling the same heartache as him is bitter and he doesn't like it.

He knows he's the one that tossed your relationship in the trash, but he thought he meant more to you. At least enough for you not to be living it up a month after he left.

You were never one for the. club scene, and he's honestly not sure why you're here. It's not until you bump into him on the way to take another shot that he really takes you in.

You stop to apologize and his eyebrows pinch when it takes you a second longer than it should to realize who he is. Recognition finally crosses your features and much to his surprise, you give him a short hug with a smile.

"Hey, Rafe."

He stares at you in shock for a second, trying to figure out why you seem so unbothered by his presence. He's certainly not feeling as relaxed with you standing a foot away. An unfamiliar scent washes over him and he realizes it's coming from you.

He's always loved the way you smell, and that is certainly not your usual perfume and body lotion. It almost makes him sick to his stomach. His eyes rake over your face for a moment as he tries to place what's so different about you.

He doesn't even recognize the woman in front of him and his heart breaks as the realization sets in that this is his fault. He broke you.

Your body is covered in a skin-tight dress that's six inches too short and glitter. He notices you seem taller than usual and his eyes pan down to the sky-high stilettos on your feet.

That's not what concerns him most though. You're clearly drunk as you struggle to keep your balance and your pupils are completely blown.

If he had to guess he'd say coke or Molly, maybe both based on your apparent indifference to your life. Either way, it makes his stomach turn and he barely resists the urge to break Topper's hands as they sit a little too close to your ass.

"Hi."

It's all he can manage as guilt and pain consume him and he wants nothing more than to go back in time. He doesn't get to say anything else before you're stumbling away, resembling a newborn fawn.

He ignores his friends' protests as he pulls out his phone and steps outside. His thumb finds Sarah's contact and he presses the call button without hesitation. The line rings a few times before she answers and he leans against the brick wall.

"What do you want?"

There's music in the background and he knows he's interrupting her night but he can't bring himself to care.

"Is Y/N okay?"

There's a moment of silence before his sister sighs and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Rafe, you lost the right to ask about her."

He knows she's right, but he's going to get answers even if he has to drive to the cut himself.

"I know, okay? I know. But I'm at this night club and she looks absolutely wasted. I'm worried."

He can almost hear her mulling over her next words on the other end of the line when she finally responds.

"We all are. Between me and you, she's been on a bender. She's gone out almost every night since the breakup. She comes back completely fucked up with random men at like 6 am. We thought it would pass, but it seems like she's not slowing down anytime soon."

His stomach lurches at the idea of you going home with strangers while completely intoxicated and he takes a deep breath. He hates that he's been sulking while you've been sleeping around, but that's not what's at the forefront of his mind.

His main concern is your safety. He knows that sooner or later you'll take too much or trust the wrong man and something will happen.

"Thanks."

He hears her start to ask something but doesn't wait to listen, quickly ending the call and heading back in. He's on a war path to find you and when he does, his blood boils.

You're laid on a table while Topper does a body shot off you and his feet carry him forward before his brain can catch up. He rips his friend backward and Topper is about to cuss him out when he sees the look on his face.

His hands come up in surrender and before you can process, you're being thrown over Rafe's shoulder and carried outside. Your arms and legs flail as you slap at his back and his grip tightens.

"Fucking put me down!" Your voice is slurred but loud, and your heels click as your feet hit the pavement.

You take a second to get your bearings before snapping your head up to glare at your ex-boyfriend.

"What the fuck, Rafe?!"

Your anger does nothing to deter him and his arms cross over his chest as he blocks you from going back inside.

"I could ask you the same thing."

His voice is firm yet gentle as he looks at you and it pisses you off.

"Actually, you can't, asshole. What I do is none of your business."

He scoffs and if you weren't so far gone, you'd probably take your shoe off and stab him with it. All of this is sobering you up and you definitely need to be high to deal with this conversation.

"This isn't you. Why are you doing this?"

It's a stupid question, he's aware of this. Still, he wants to hear you say it.

"Maybe it is. You don't know who I am anymore."

The words are harsh as you snap at him and his fists clench while he tries to hide how much it hurt him.

"Yes, I do. So I'll ask one more time. Why are you doing this?"

He softens when he notices the way your chest is heaving and you're gnawing on your lip the way you always do when you're trying to fight back tears.

"Because I don't want to feel how I did that night, okay? I want to be numb. Is that what you want to hear?"

His heart clenches when your voice wobbles and he reaches out to grab your hand. Pain shoots through him when you recoil from his touch and take a step back.

"Don't fucking touch me."

His hand drops back to his side and his mind spins as he tries to figure out how to fix this. That first week was hell, especially when you sent him drunk texts and left voicemails with jumbled words. He figured you were drinking away your sorrows the same as him, but he never imagined it was this bad.

He fought the urge to call you back and fall to his knees while he begged for another chance. He figured pushing you away was in your best interest. He knows you think he did it because you're a pogue; Sarah called to chew him out over it.

If that's what helped, he was happy to let you believe it. In reality, it couldn't be farther from the truth. He didn't care about that at all. He knows he's fucked up and all he did was hurt you.

He figured cutting ties and letting you find someone else was the better alternative to hurting you over and over again.

He knows that you would never leave him, even if you should. So he decided to do it for you.

"Okay, I won't touch you. Just please come back with me so I know you're safe. You don't have to talk to me or look at me the entire time if you don't want. Just crash in the guest room and I'll take you back to John B's in the morning."

You know it's a bad idea, but you're starting to come down and you really miss how comfy the beds at Tannyhill are. He does an internal victory dance when you nod your head and has the valet pull the car around.

The ride back is dead silent, but he doesn't mind. He's just happy to have you back in his passenger seat where you belong. It's a relatively short drive, and before you know it he's pulling into the long familiar driveway.

He opens the door for you and you have to remind yourself not to grab his hand the way you normally would. He puts his hand in his pocket to keep from placing it on the small of your back and lets you take the lead.

An amused smile splits his face when you stop to take your shoes off and thrust them into his stomach. He takes them without any hesitation and carries them without complaint.

This is familiar to him; your feet always hurt at the end of the night and it wasn't uncommon for him to end up carrying you or toting your shoes and bag around while you were dating.

He even went as far as keeping a pair of flats in his truck; they're still in the back seat and he kicks himself for not remembering to offer them to you.

"You're back ear-"

Rose stops mid-sentence when she sees you, and Rafe shoots her a look that tells her not to ask questions. His heart leaps as you trek up the stairs, the path second nature to you.

He isn't expecting you to swing the door to his room open though and he wonders if it's intentional or just because you're too inebriated to realize.

He takes a detour to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and painkillers before joining you. He stops in his tracks when he sees you rummaging through his closet and watches as you pull out your favorite hoodie of his, struggling to put it on.

He debates offering to help before deciding not to push his luck. You're already back in his room when he never thought he'd see it again. The last thing he wants to do is drive you away.

He stands in place as you crawl under his comforter and settle into your side of the bed, nuzzling your head into the soft pillow. His scent is overwhelming and it brings you comfort.

You're sure you'll regret this tomorrow, but right now all you can focus on is being back in his white Egyptian cotton sheets.

He hesitates for a second before going into the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth and moisturizer. His movements are calculated as he sits on the edge of the mattress and starts wiping away your makeup.

You don't protest and he takes that as his sign to continue. Once your face is clean, he rubs the expensive lotion that you love into your face, making sure to use upwards movements the way he always saw you do.

He grabs a pair of joggers and starts to leave when your voice rings out.

"Just get in the fucking bed, Rafe."

He doesn't need to be told twice and moves at lightning speed as he slips off his shirt and throws on his sweatpants. He makes sure to leave plenty of space and his heart stops when you roll over and lay on his chest.

You seem to sense that he's about to say something because your hand comes up to cover his mouth.

"Don't ruin it with words. Just enjoy it while it lasts."

He nods against your palm and you return your arm to its previous resting place across his abdomen. He hears his phone vibrate and grabs it off the nightstand, careful not to disturb you. You're already snoring softly when he unlocks the screen.

There's a text from Sarah.

Do you know if Y/N is okay? We can't get ahold of her and Topper said she left with you.

He snaps a quick photo of your sleeping figure and sends it. Her response is a red heart and he locks the phone before setting it back down. He settles in and falls into a peaceful slumber, elated to have you back in his arms.

#Rafe Cameron #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron fic #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe Cameron angst #Rafe Cameron fluff #Rafe Cameron outer banks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks angst #outer banks fluff

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eddiemuonson · 7 months

Text

"Here's your treat, Sailor" - Steve Harrington x f! Reader

Summary: It's Halloween and you're celebrating your birthday. You throw a small party at your house, but end up locked in your closet with Steve. Give him a treat, he's upset, yeah?

Warnings: A little fluff, a little smut. Oral sex, cursing. 18+ DNI

Word count: 2.6k (just a quick story)

Being born close to Halloween means it was always most likely you would throw a themed birthday party. Two days before the actual date, you were celebrating at a bar with your closest friends, always excited to gather all of them and your other friends.

Hours before the party, you were getting help from Robin and Eddie with the decoration, while Steve and Dustin - your not-so-baby-brother - were cleaning the house.

Jonathan and Nancy were in charge of the rest; food, crockery, cups and stuff like that. A faint rock music was playing on a boombox as you were all busy with the arrangement.

You were pretty excited this year, for the first time after getting into college you invited a few friends you got along. Not that you weren't missing having a boyfriend, but every time you'd go out with someone, it turns out they just want sex, and you didn't like that.

Pumpkins with wicked grins lined the path to the entrance, their flickering candles casting eerie shadows. A large, ancient oak tree was adorned with fake cobwebs and ghostly apparitions hanging from its branches, swaying gently in the autumn breeze. A fog machine sent wisps of mist rolling across the yard, setting the perfect, eerie mood.

It was 8 pm sharp when the first guests arrived. Mike with El, Lucas with Max and Will, who were not that young anymore either, they were all like 18, 19. You couldn't hold a grin to see them dressed as Ghostbusters, like every year they wear matching costumes.

You and your friends made a deal you'd surprise each other with your costumes, so a while after the kids arrived, Eddie knocked on the door and as you opened it, and it was impossible to miss. He had transformed himself into a member of the legendary rock band, Kiss.

He was wearing a very made up costume. He even painted in the signature black and white makeup, wearing a black leather vest, displaying his flat abs.

He wore a skin-tight, leather jumpsuit adorned with studs and spikes. Behind him, Robin was wearing a camouflage outfit, along with black boots just like Eddie.

"Wow, you took the 'dressed to kill' idea very seriously!" She said as she complimented you. As a lesbian, she couldn't stop looking at your cleavage.

You went for an Elvira look with a black, form-fitting, low-cut dress, with a slit on the side. The v-neck showed a little too much of your chest, which would make every guy look at you for more than five minutes.

"Eddie, come on dork. Stop stripping her with your eyes!" She mocked him, laughing at the way he was just frozen, still looking at you.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. Nice choice. Gonna make every dude in this house get a boner" He tried to sound playful, but he only just turned himself in.

"Thank you so much for the heads-up. I had no idea" Ironically, you weren't really expecting that. Maybe that's why Mike and Lucas got flickered in their foreheads earlier.

Steve was more obvious and it made you laugh. He just chose to wear his Scoops Ahoy uniform, without the hat. Because that would ruin his perfect hair.

And again, what Eddie said echoed in your head, because the hairy chested guy couldn't stop staring at your breasts until you tried to pinch him. Jonathan and Nancy were wearing something very couple-like, and it was heart melting.

There were people chatting in the backyard, some were listening to music while talking and drinking, Dusty and the kids were talking about some game. The couple was somewhere, probably exchanging saliva, and you were talking with Robin, listening to her charm about Vickie, while Eddie was smoking a joint.

"Hey, where the hell is Steve?" She asks after a brief pause, watching as Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't seen him in like, twenty minutes, I think?".

"Probably fixing his hair or managing to get his dick wet" He scoffed.

Both of you looked at him in disbelief, he was just trying to mock. "Ew, Munson. I know he used to be like that, but he wouldn't do this. Not at my house at least" You respond, but he doesn't agree.

"Eh, could be. But let's be honest. The guy is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. Any girl would jump on him like that" He snaps his fingers.

"I'm gonna look for him around here. You can go upstairs" You tell her before leaving him alone, who mumbles something about Steve "needing a babysitter" or something.

You had no idea where the guy could've gone. He just didn't say anything before ghosting, and it's not like there was a way of communicating to him, unless he had a walkie. But this wasn't one of his gatherings with the kids.

You looked behind the curtains, because, you never know right? Under the table, behind the couch, in the guest restroom and even behind any door, but still nothing. Robin said she didn't see him upstairs.

She went to the backyard and asked the others about him. Until you realized you didn't look for him in one spot that anyone could fit in: the closet under your stairs.

He was sitting there with a different look on his face. Maybe tired? You didn't know. He had his back resting against the wall, fidgeting his fingers. A cup with some drink was also resting on the floor.

"Care to explain why you're hiding at my party without saying anything?" You ask, but he doesn't bother to look at you.

He shrugs his shoulders, pouting. "I'm sorry it's your birthday party. I just didn't feel like being around".

You wanted to ask, but you weren't sure he would answer you. Still holding the doorknob, you reach out your hands, so he can lift himself up, but he doesn't.

"C'mon Steve, let's try and cheer up, yeah? You want me to change the music? Is it boring?" He shakes his head. "You want something else to drink? Food?". Nothing.

As soon as he gets up, he closes the door behind you, before you protest. What he doesn't know is that If you close the door, it locks from the inside. He just locked you both in there.

"Steve-" You try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"Can you not tell this to Robin just yet? It's going to sound really stupid" He asks, his tone was low and pretty hurtful.

"Steve, you can't close this door from the inside. We're locked in here".

He snaps his eyes and raises both eyebrows. He tries to open the door but nothing happens.

"You're fucking kidding me. I just locked the party host in the closet" He groans, yanking his head against the door.

"Yeah, thank you. Now Robin is going to think we're either missing or messing around".

Steve still has his head resting against the door, banging it carefully.

"Could this night be any shittier?" You don't get why he seems stressed, but you try to ask him anyway.

"What happened, sailor?" He chuckles lightly, almost like in a bittersweet way.

"If you make fun of me I'll get your gift back" He threatens. "Just this girl I was talking to earlier in the backyard.. I asked her for her number and she said I was a 'stupid momma's boy and that my reputation is wrecked'" He mourns.

"You know you're not like that anymore, right?" You try to ease him and reassure you don't think of him that way.

He still laughs sarcastically. "Seems like I still am". He sighs. "That's the problem. People still see me like that, and I hate it".

"Just because some random girl said that to you, it doesn't mean it's true".

Steve tries to take in your words as he crosses his arms on his chest and ponders. He hasn't been like that in ages, why would he still make it a big deal anyway? Seems like he needed to work out his self-esteem.

"Maybe you're right. How's the party?" He still sounds like he's offended, maybe he just needs a hug.

"Well, it's been pretty good until you locked us in" You joke, watching him slightly chuckle.

"You look really good as Elvira" Steve gives you a gentle side smile and you grab his hand.

"You look the same as always, sailor" Snorting, he gives you a death glance. Like, it's not the first time you see in that outfit.

"Just think you missed the boobs". Oh, that was a burn.

Walking towards him, you make sure you're pressing your sides to show a little more cleavage, and he gulps. "What, you don't think this cleavage isn't enough?" Your voice was smooth and low.

As you reach to both his arms, he tries to not stare at you for too long or he breaks. Your pleading eyes actually hold something different and it makes his boxer feel uncomfortable already. You've always thought he was good looking, even with the stupid outfit.

"I.. uh- No, it's great" He nervously laughs, his hands never meet your body out of respect for you.

You tease him as you lean against his body, and Steve is looking confused at you. "Eddie was right when he said every guy would get a boner with my costume".

He tries to hold a nervous chuckle and fails. "I don't have a boner, what do you mean?"

"Then what are you hiding in there, an ice cream scoop?" The taunting was terrible, but it makes him laugh as his cheeks flush.

"You're a terrible person" This time he holds his gaze directly at your eyes and leans closer until your noses bump. "You're incredibly sexy and terrible".

"And yet you're the one dressed as a sailor with your uniform" You retort, wrapping your hands around his neck. He feels your chest pressed against his, as well as his growing crotch.

He doesn't give you an answer, but instead he just crashes his lips against yours, holding your chin in a light grip. He tastes like beer, he smells like Calvin Klein and you don't regret this little show you're having.

It doesn't have to be something serious right now, so you just enjoy it when he slides his tongue against yours, letting out a groan to your surprise. One of his hands slides down your body, holding your waist as he tries to bring you closer to him.

You feel his hard cock rub against your cunt under the dress and it burns your skin. Grasping his lower lip against your teeth, you let out a teasing gasp, learning Steve is just about to throw you against the wall and fuck you there.

But before he even tries anything, you start kissing him again, feeling his hot tongue swirling around yours in a battle for dominance. It makes your brain twist and your stomach sink. It makes your entire body shiver.

He pulls back only to breathe, his haired chest is heavily panting and his lips are swollen. "This is what they're missing. So, fuck them" You praise.

His big squared hand grabs your cheek carefully as he uses his thumb to rub his digit against your skin. "Thank you" That's all he says.

Watching him from that position, it makes you realize he's everything Eddie said before. He is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. He's also caring, smart and gentle. If you could, you would put him in a bubble and take care of him.

You pull him by the collar only to give him a peck before sliding both hands down his stomach until your hands reach the elastic of his shorts.

He looks at you, confused and sort of lost with the action. "Here's a Halloween treat, sailor". You kneel in front of him.

The tone of your voice is barely above a whisper and it carries luxury, filling the air of the small closet. His throat is now dry as he gulps harshly. You pull down his piece of clothing before glancing carefully at his hardened cunt under the fabric.

It pulses when you softly touch his base and Steve almost collapses under your hands. He helps you get rid of his boxer, muffling his grunt when you hold it in your right hand. Your best hand, the one you know you can give a nice handjob.

But this time you catch him off guard when your mouth gives him a soft open mouthed kiss on the glistening tip of his cock. He's kinda big, and thick, and it makes your mouth water with desperation. You glide your tongue until it reaches his balls and he flinches, hissing.

"Jesus fuck" He cries. It makes you grin through his cock.

Slowly, you swallow him until it reaches the back of your throat and you try not to gag. His reflection is to pull a handful of your hair and he slowly loses it.

Working along with your tongue, you start bobbing your head up and down, careful to not choke on his cunt. You cup his balls with your free hand and softly rub them against your soft fingers.

Steve almost starts sliding down the wall, trying to hold himself up. He feels himself completely at your mercy, not knowing why it feels so good, considering you were good friends.

You hum while tasting every inch of him, feeling his dick twitch inside your mouth, dripping with precum.

He uses one hand to hold himself while the other one still pulls your hair. The sound of your throat against his dick is echoing inside the closet, while his breathing makes the air become stuffy. Your mouth sucks him so perfectly, your throat tightens around him.

"I'm not gonna las- Fuck-" He sttuters when you hollow your cheeks and suck him hard, the loud gasp coming off his mouth makes you feel so horny you almost give up on this.

The way you concentrate on your movements, always switching so it doesn't give you cheek cramps, makes him want to thrust against your mouth. But he knows his limits and he doesn't want you to choke on him either.

He watches with bliss on his eyes the way your head bobs towards him and it makes him dizzy at your sight. You look at him with lust and awe, savoring his salty liquid, feeling how his fat cock stretches your mouth so it can fit in.

Your hand falls from his balls to his hairy and thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin, listening to every moan he spills against the thin air.

"I'mgonnacum" He slurs and you feel his hips shuddering as he finally reaches his peak, washing over your throat. You swallow him entirely, his warm cum suddenly makes you feel too blissed from the moment.

Steve can barely breathe, you watch him almost gasp for air. His chest is heavily panting and sweating, just like his flushed face.

You noticed how messy his hair is. After swallowing it all, you give him a quick peck on his sensitive tip and he pulls back from the sensation.

He helps you get up from your knees, still staring at you amused. You quickly clean the corner of your mouth, licking the same spot. "God, you are fascinating".

When he leans forward to give you another kiss, not giving a shit you taste like him, the door finally opens and Robin stares at both of you in shock.

"What the fuck happened here?".

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #userashe #useremz

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ja3yun · 4 months

Text

The Sun That Always Burns | Wedding (bonus) | S.JY

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, minor character death (mentioned), swearing, it's just tooth-rotting sweetness, not proofread.

synopsis: 6 years after you are reunited with your love, it's finally time to tie the knot.

wc: 6.5k+

masterlist

a/n: hi! it's time for that bonus chapter I promised. I wouldn't say this was an in-demand bonus but people did ask about a wedding and I wanted to give you all something for giving the series so much love! if it's in italics then it's a flashback scene <3 thank you all so much

Staring into the mirror, you see yourself exactly where you should be: in a wedding dress about to marry the love of your life, Jaeyun. It feels surreal to be here at exactly this moment. You don’t really recognise yourself but in the best, most beautiful way possible.

You run your hands down your ivory Stevie wedding dress, its a-line cut, floral lace bodice, and bishop sleeves make you feel like a princess. It looked gorgeous on you the moment you tried it on but now it’s like a whole different level. It could be due to your blowout and exquisitely done, subtle make-up.

Taking the headpiece from its velvet-lined box you place it gently atop the crown of your head. It completes the look perfectly, the tiara flashy enough to know it’s there but not to overshadow the dress. You had to thank your maid of honour for bringing this whole look together.

“I found th-, Oh my days, Y/N, look at you!”

Speak of the devil

You turn around and pose awkwardly, seeking approval, “Do we like it?”

When Eunseo puts her hands up to her face, tears brimming in her sockets, you know you made the right choice of dress, “You look unreal. I wish I were the one marrying you.” She was always a flatterer.

“Stop it.” You blush and turn away. A bucket ton of emotion is weighing you down as you look at your best friend through the mirror, “I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

Considering everything you’ve both been through and who her sister is, she shouldn’t even be speaking to you right now, never mind accepting to be your maid of honour.

When Jake told Yeoreum he was leaving her the day before their wedding, Eunseo could only see red. How dare you both do this to her sister. But seeing how desperate Jake was to find you after she told you to leave, she knew it was for the best.

“Eunseo, please where did she go? Back to Uni? I heard her mentioning Pyeongchang once, is she there?” Jake’s eyes are flying across Eunseo’s face to seek any sort of information about where you had gone.

The girl has a look of disbelief on her face. How can he ask her that, in front of her sister who is crying her eyes out? Jake not only a minute ago told Yeoreum he wasn’t marrying her and now he’s pleading with Eunseo to help him? He has a set of balls on him, that’s for sure.

The truth is, he’ll regret the way he handled the situation but at that moment, all he thought about was you. He couldn’t lose you again, not after everything.

Eunseo turns to Yeoreum who has tears cascading down her face, mascara stains on her cheeks. She’s heartbroken obviously and Eunseo can’t do anything about it.

Facing Jake once again she sees the desperation in his eyes, “Eunseo, I know I don’t deserve your help but I am begging you, even just tell me the smallest of details, I’ll figure it out from there.”

“Jake, you are the grottiest piece of shit I know.” She spits out, fists clench, but she sighs and thinks about how you looked at her before you left and how you said she wouldn’t understand the love between you and Jake, which is true, she doesn’t get it, but she loves you and as much as she might despise the man in front of her, she can’t stand in the way of your happiness.

Eunseo has a choice: tell him where you would go and give you both the chance of reconciliation or deny him the information and make everyone in the situation miserable.

“Avanti. She goes to Avanti College.” Yeoreum screeches out a ‘what?!’ and Eunseo winces, feeling like she’s betraying her, but truth be told it doesn’t matter what she does, she will always hurt someone she loves in the end. At least Yeoreum would get over it, they’re sisters after all.

“Eunseo, thank you. Thank you so much.” He places his hands gently on her shoulders, “I know it doesn’t mean much right now when I say this but,” He pauses, trying to gather his words, “Don’t blame Y/N for this. This is my decision. Don’t shut her out, I can tell she loves you.”

Eunseo knew he was right back then. You were both twin flames caught in a shitty situation, and she loves you more than she realised. Eventually, Eunseo returned to Pyeongchang and just like always there she was in the coffee shop you both frequently visited. It had been about 2 months since you saw her last and when you placed her usual coffee order on the table and sat down, she burst into tears and hugged you tight. After about 4 hours of conversation and forgiveness, she was your best friend again.

That’s the thing about best friends, their relationship lasts through even the bumpiest of rollercoasters.

“Y/N, I seriously will marry you. Leave him for me.” She deadpans before you both laugh loudly as she places her hands on your shoulders, staring at you through the mirror, “I am so glad to be by your side.” The utter honesty in her words almost has you crying. You’re so glad you didn’t lose her through all of this, she was your rock.

As she fixed your veil onto your tiara you suddenly got an overwhelming sense of pure love for not only her but your friendship, “I love you, Eunseo.” You confess so easily, just like you have over the years.

Her eyes sparkle when she turns to face you properly, “I love you too, Y/N.” She has tears in her eyes while she speaks to you, “I am so enthralled to see you happy like this.”

You can’t remember a time you were genuinely happier than right now. Seeing Jaeyun all those years ago when he was about to be taken away from you made you realise how tightly you had to hold onto him once you had him back. And you both never wasted another second.

It was 6 years ago when you wandered into the Son family house and saw your love engaged to someone else, and it took a week for him to come back to you. Since then you’ve both been enamoured by each other, just like you were teenagers again, hopelessly and criminally in love.

You graduated a few months later in Film and Media and landed yourself a paid internship at HYBE Media in Busan. You kept your promise to Jaeyun and as soon as you finished school, you were on the first train with your bags packed to go spend the rest of your life with him. The job itself wasn’t inherently glamorous to start with, you mostly got teas and coffees for staff on set but as you’ve progressed and worked your way up, you’re now working on several projects as Director of Photography. It's a dream come true for you, and Jaeyun has been with you every step of the way, even when you bawled and screamed at him because you were frustrated with work, he never took it to heart, instead, he would just be there. In silence, or with reassuring hugs, or pouring you a wine and gently placing it on your desk, he did whatever he thought was right for you. That’s Sim Jaeyun, always putting you at the forefront of his brain. You couldn’t be luckier to have him.

He felt the same about you. His time with the Jo Twins working on his thesis’ encouraged him to go and study for his doctorate and he’s now working towards his PhD in applied mathematics and theoretical physics. It wasn’t an easy decision for Jaeyun, money would be tighter, long hours between work and studying, and not to mention the disdain he felt leaving you for days at a time to go on research bouts. But you assured him all of this would be worth the struggle you face, and any hardship that came his way, you would both face it together. A problem shared is a problem halved as they say.

Both of you went through every emotion over the past few years, love, anger, sadness, frustration, joy, and all of it is what led you to today. Even when you both fought, you knew you couldn’t live without one another, each time an argument arose you each would look at one another and remember how tragic those 4 years without each other were the most brutal that no one wanted to go through again so you communicated and worked through everything, hand in hand. In a way, you’re glad you left back then because it helps you appreciate how lucky you are to have him now.

He was your everything. And you were his.

“I do not know why you picked a summer wedding though,” Eunseo fans herself with her two hands and whines, “Wearing this dress is too much I can’t wait to get into something a little more comfortable.” She wasn’t exactly covered, her bridesmaid dress was a thin strapped maroon-pink gown that had a slit up the side. You let her pick her own dress considering she turned down all your ideas. What she means by ‘more comfortable’ is the gold sparkly cropped dress she picked out 2 weeks ago for your reception party.

“Summer is the best time to take pictures outside in the Botanical Garden, and I look better in the sunlight.” You always did look ethereal bathed in the sun, “Besides, there is AC in the church, yeah?”

“Not in this hell of a swamp though.” She grumbles. You and Eunseo tried to adjust the AC in the hotel room you had booked to get ready but you genuinely might have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the dials, so you’re both currently sweltering.

As you down the last of the Champagne in your glass to quench your thirst you hear a knock on the door, “Can I come in?” The familiar voice of your dad hides behind the door before he opens it and stands, looking you up and down, “Oh, wow, sweetheart you look…” His eyes don’t come off you as he strides forward, hands outstretched in front of him, “You look like a dream, Y/N.” Hugging you tight, careful not to stand on the bottom of your dress, he whispers in your ear, “Your mum would be so proud of you.”

Mum. Your one true supporter through everything. Unfortunately, she passed away 2 months ago due to an unexpected case of stage 4 cancer, it broke you and your dad to pieces, but she wasn’t in pain anymore, and that brought some comfort to you both. Bless her, she tried to hang on for the wedding but she couldn’t make it. Jaeyun had suggested having a quick ceremony at the hospital so she could see it which you were all for, but she said ‘If you get married at the foot of my bed and not at the top of an aisle I will haunt you both when I’m dead’. She meant it to, and since you believed in ghosts, you were not taking any chances.

“So, are you all set? Don’t want Jake thinking you got cold feet now do we?” He laughs softly pulling away from you.

You look to Eunseo who just gives you a thumbs up, “Yeah, yeah I’m ready.” You were so ready.

“Great! Eunseo, phone the planner and let them know we will be there in 10 minutes.” Eunseo does as your dad instructed and reaches for both your hands, “My baby, I’m not good with words, but I am so proud of you and everything you have achieved. You will always be my little girl but looking at you now I see not my little angel trying on her mum’s high heels at 5 years old, but a woman stepping into her own, ready to walk a path with her new family.” He rubs your arms lightly, looking at you intently, “He is so lucky to have you, Y/N.”

If your makeup wasn’t done and you weren’t about the walk down the aisle in front of over 70 people you probably would burst into tears, but you simply hold it in, biting both your lips before a sob escapes. Never has your dad said something so beautiful to you and he meant every word, “I love you, Dad.”

Nodding he holds out his arm for you to take and escorts you down the car.

On the other end, Jaeyun was standing at the altar waiting for his bride-to-be to make her grand entrance. He jumped a little and shook out all his nerves, looking for reassurance from his best man, “You don’t think she got cold feet, right? You don’t think she’s realised how unworthy I am and dipped, do you?” He whispers.

Heeseung laughs and shakes his head, “Mate, she’s on her way, I heard the event planner on their little walkie-talkie saying ‘The eagle is leaving the nest, I repeat, the eagle is leaving the nest’.”

“The eagle?”

“Y/N, obviously. Eunseo also texted me saying they were on their way.” Phew. Jaeyun lets out a sigh of relief, “You know, now is not the time to feel self-deprecation, you are literally getting married in approximately ‘10 minutes people’.” He mocks the event planner once again which eases Jaeyun a little, “If Y/N didn’t want to marry you, she wouldn’t have said yes to your atrocious proposal.”

Jaeyun cringes when he thinks about how he proposed. Out of all the declarations of love he’s done over the years, your engagement was the worst one.

“Keep them closed, baby.” Jaeyun’s fingers are sealed over your eyes as he guides you into your apartment. You’re confused as to why you were kidnapped from your work and brought back home for a ‘personal matter.’

“Jaeyun, what is going on? Did you burn the house down because if you have I will literally kill you, I just finished painting the kitchen that nice duck egg blue.” You spent your paid time off decorating the kitchen so if he even so much as scratched some of the paint off you would be fuming.

He just laughs and takes his shoes off behind you, and you follow his lead, “Have some faith in me, baby.” It’s hard to have faith when just a few weeks ago he ‘hung up’ the clothes to be dried on the veranda and forgot the clothes pegs resulting in your clothes being scattered through half of Busan when a gust of wind swept them away, “Now keep your eyes tight shut okay?”

Removing his hands from your face he shuffles towards you, running around the apartment to make sure everything is displayed perfectly, “Okay, open them!” His excited voice echoes through your ears and you open your eyes, adjusting to the sudden light. When you finally unblur your vision you see candles set up like a walkway, guiding you to the coffee table which has a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, and polaroids scattered.

“What’s all this?” You asked, walking between the candles and inspecting your surroundings, “Jaeyun, baby?” He smiles widely, as he sits down, ushering you to do the same on the opposite side.

Pushing the polaroids in front of you, he says lowly, “I took a picture every time I fell in love with you all over again.” Now you look at him skeptically because there have to be at least 40 polaroids here, “I know, this is me really cutting back, I think I had like 130 or something.” He says nonchalantly and your eyes widen, “But these were the moments I realised that it was just more than love.”

Picking up a few you see moments you didn’t even know he captured, your first time visiting him at work when you brought him his favourite lunch, the time you finally won a game of Cluedo because you gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, the moment you won employee of the year, and so much more, “When did you take these? I think I would have noticed a flash?”

“Actually, they aren’t real polaroids, did you know you can get your phone photos printed on these things?” He looked so cute as he looked through the pictures with you, clearly proud of his discovery. If there was a moment you wish you could capture and put on your own fake polaroid, it was this one, “Anyway, um, these moments were the ones I was going to ask you something but was too scared to.”

You tilt your head, “Ask me what?”

His palms go sweaty as he puts down the pictures he’s holding. Whistling, you see Layla bounding over with a cute pink bow, her face as happy as ever. “Well, I’m still too scared to ask you, so I’ve asked Layla for help.” He points to her collar and you notice a piece of paper wedged in her bow.

As you take out the paper, Jaeyun looks at Layla and asks her to get something but you’re too busy unraveling the note to notice, “Will you marry me? Wait why would Layla ask me to mar-” And it hits you as you re-read it carefully, “Jaeyun?”

“Will you? Marry me?” Layla comes back with a ring box in her mouth and Jaeyun couldn’t look more proud. 3 months he’s been training Layla for this, she’s such a good girl. Dropping the box on your lap she sits obediently, waiting for you to open it. Your heart is racing, mouth moist yet throat dry, was he truly asking you to marry him right now? Opening the box you look confused and Jaeyun goes into his normal panic mode, “What? Do you not like it?”

“Baby, there’s nothing in here?” You pass him the box and you’re right, there isn’t anything in it but the white satin lining that should be holding your pink sapphire engagement ring.

“No, no, no, where is it?” He looks around the area quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the silver jeweled ring, but it’s so dark he can’t see a thing, “I swear I haven’t even taken it out of the box to look at it since I got it.” He stands up and rushes into your shared bedroom and all you can hear is him spitting profanities and tearing your belongings apart to find the ring. You don’t want to get in the way so you start to look in the living room, which would be great if you knew what exactly it looked like.

20 minutes later he comes back into you searching under the couch flashing your phone torch, “This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” He pouts and sits on the couch exasperated, “It was supposed to be cute and romantic, I had all this stuff prepared and I still couldn’t get it right.”

“Hey,” You poke your head up from the floor and sit on your knees in front of him, soothing him as your hands rub his thighs, “I don’t care how you ask me, remember last time you asked me after we had sex that one time in my childhood bedroom?” The day he was supposed to be marrying Yeoreum, which is totally ironic now that you look back on it.

“That was different, I asked you that as a promise to marry you, this is meant to be the real deal.”

You can see how upset he is by the way he’s pouting, and not his usual absentminded cuteness pout, a real lip-jutted-out moment. Every fiber of you wants to just tell him to leave it because let's face it, ring or no ring your answer would be the same, but he has worked so hard for this, you need to help him see it through, “Okay, so when did you last have the box to check the ring?”

Signing he leans forward, taking your hands in his, “Literally before I picked you up from work to bring you here, I ran through it with Layla a few times and left. It was there, Y/N I swear.”

“Shh I know, I know. Maybe Layla dropped it?” Not that you were trying to direct the blame onto his precious baby, but she’s the only explanation right now, “Let's have a look around to see where she could hav-”

“She ate it…” He whispers, “What if she ate it?” Jaeyun’s eyes widen as he gets up off the couch and runs to his dog, hitting you in the face with his knee in the process. Too engrossed in the idea of Layla consuming the £2,000 ring that he doesn’t comprehend the blood coming from your nose, “Layla, open your mouth, angel, let me see.”

Blood starts to stain your t-shirt as it trickles down through your fingers as you hold each side of your nose. He was so clumsy when he wanted to be that if your injury didn’t hurt like a bitch you would have found him endearing right now. You walk to the bathroom and past the pleading man, arguing with a dog to cough up the jewelry. The cold running water helps a little with numbing the pain but the swelling of your nose insinuates that you might need to get it checked out, “Baby?” Your nasally tone brings him to look at you and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“Fuck, Y/N what happened?” You could laugh, and you’re going to before he trips over the carpet in an attempt to rush over to you, knocking over a candle and starting a small fire. Everything is going wrong, this might go down in history as the worst proposal ever made, “Shit, shit,” He mutters, putting out the fire with a damp cloth he retrieved from the kitchen sink which luckily did the job.

With the smoke detector beeping, Layla barking, and Jaeyun stomping the fire out, you can only laugh, “Let’s do it.”

Your boyfriend looks up at you confused, “What?”

“Let’s get married.”

Turns out, Layla did eat the ring and after a hefty vet bill and some laxatives later, you got your ring. You steeped it in bleach and cleaned it to the high heavens but now you wear it with pride. Your nose was also broken due to his knee colliding with you, but it worked in your favour because Jaeyun felt so guilty about what he did that he was at your beck and call, he did every little thing for you and showered you with more kisses than ever before. Despite the chaos that occurred that night, you still said yes and agreed to be his forever and always, and now here you both are.

Jaeyun exhales sharply while Heeseung adjusts his black bowtie, “Jake, why are you so nervous? All you’ve spoken about since you were 15 is how much you’re looking forward to marrying Y/N.” He understands what his best friend is saying but isn’t it natural to be nervous?

“I’m not anxious about marrying her, I just don’t want to disappoint her. It’s easy for her to leave just now, we aren’t legally bound, but what if in years to come she doesn’t want me anymore because I do something stupid or can’t give her what she needs? I mean, I don’t even have a stable job right now, I’m relying on her when it should always be the other way around.”

He keeps rambling a list of reasons why you might get bored or tired of him until Heeseung interjects, “Jake, mate, there is not a man in the world that can love her as you can and she knows that. She’s besotted with you and trust me, Y/N is the only one that can put up with you,” He pats the groom's shoulder before continuing, “And who cares if you’re studying still, it’s all for your future, a future you have put Y/N at the forefront of. Gender norms have made you think men should look after women but it isn’t about who can provide what for whom, it’s about being there for each other equally, and you both are.”

Heeseung’s words instill Jaeyun with comfort and before he gets the chance to overthink again, he sees the priest walking to the alter. This is it. He’s getting married, and he’s going to be your man forever, “Okay, I gotta go and walk with Eunseo. Breathe and try not to cry when you see her.” Heeseung smirks as he jets off through the side doors to take his place as the ceremony gets underway.

Eunseo, who looks like a vision, walks with her hand grasping Heeseung’s arm as they lead the trail of bridesmaids and groomsmen down the aisle. Jaeyun greets them all as they come up and take their places, calming himself down as he anticipates your arrival. Nothing can prepare him for what he sees next.

As a piano version of Howl’s Moving Castle’s ‘Merry Go Round of Life’ echoes through the church, the grand wooden doors open once again to unveil you and your dad walking side by side, gracefully gliding your way down the aisle. All those weeks of practicing how to float on your feet are finally working, granted, all you’re focusing on right now is not faceplanting the ground.

You look beguiling in your dress, so much so that Jaeyun’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes water. In Jaeyun’s eyes, you always look beautiful whether it be in your everyday work clothes or his jumpers that he selfishly forces you to wear to bed because you look so good when he fucks you in them. You’re perfect, however, now that he’s seeing you in a wedding dress, a sheepish smile on your face because you hate the attention you’re receiving from the ogling eyes of the attendees, he realises what an honour it is to witness you right now, walking to him about to vow yourself loyal to him for eternity. It’s that thought that sends him over the edge and a few tears slip down his cheeks.

Seeing him cry fills you with glee because isn’t that what everybody wants at their wedding? For their partner to shed tears when they see you? It makes you smile widely and look at your dad who has a similar look on his face, “If he didn’t cry I would have turned you back and kept walking until he did.” He chuckles as you slap his chest with your sunflower bouquet.

Taking your hand, your dad helps you step up to the altar, hugging you tightly, “I love you, Y/N. So does your mum.” He pats his heart before walking to Jaeyun who is too busy looking at you in awe, “Jake, son, be good to my girl, just as you have been.” Jaeyun was expecting a more threatening speech from your father to be fair, but your dad knew Jaeyun would never hurt you, and if he did it would never be intentional, so he doesn’t need to browbeat him into treating you well.

As everyone sits back down and you hand your flowers to Eunseo, it’s finally time for you to look at Jaeyun properly. He looks gorgeous, his simple black suit with extra button detailing, the bowtie you begged him to wear rather than a traditional tie because he looked so cute when he jokingly tried it on, and his dark hair slicked back, pieces framing his face, “Hi.” You say just loud enough for him to hear.

“Hi, baby,” Jaeyun has the biggest urge to kiss you but that’s not how these ceremonies work so he settles for taking your hands and bringing them to his lips, “You look so fucking beautiful.”

“Jaeyun!” You scold him quietly, “Don’t swear in church.”

“Shit, sorry.” He shuts his eyes as he does it again, leaning his head back to stop himself from blundering anymore. 2 minutes in and he’s already fucking up the most important day of his life.

The priest side-eyes you both as he clears his throat, “We will begin.” This is going to be a hell of a shift for him.

Halfway through the ceremony, you regret wearing heels because no one told you how long this would drag on. How many blessings and quotes from the bible did this guy have to say before you get to say ‘I do’ and call it a day? Looking at your soon-to-be husband you notice his eyes trailing down your body. Surely he isn’t thinking anything provocative in God’s house?

He was. Of course he was, it’s Jaeyun. As he consumes you through his gaze he notices how your tits look in the plunge-lined dress and more importantly how you couldn’t be wearing a bra underneath. Since he didn’t get to see you last night he might be a little deprived, especially when you looked so good right before you left.

Picking up your overnight bag you double-check you have everything, “Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grin brightly as you walk over to Jaeyun.

He makes you drop your bag, his arms circling your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue licking into your mouth straight away. It’s the kind of kiss that leads to you either bent over the couch or trapped between him and a wall, either of those things would make you elated right now. So you give into him as your hands find their way into his mane, tugging him further down into your lips.

Smirking, Jaeyun is just about to lift you up and carry you to the nearest surface when Eunseo barges in, sighing at the sight before her, “Guys, we need to go! I got a taxi waiting downstairs waiting for me and Y/N.”

“Let me have 5 more minutes with my girl.” Jaeyun huffs and keeps kissing you, not caring much about the interruption of your best friend but unluckily for him, you do care and start to pull away, “Baby, no,” He whines, “I’ll pay whatever the fare is, just stay for max 10 minutes.”

You laugh and shake your head, “I need to go, Jaeyun. You have forever with me after tomorrow.”

Squeezing his hand you bring him out of his thoughts and have that harsh stare in your eyes. He knows he’s been caught thinking illicit things in the holy house but he can’t seem to care right now.

“Now, did you each write your own vows?” The priest asks.

This is the part you’ve been dreading the most. When Jaeyun suggested, more like demanded you both write vows, you panicked. Jaeyun is so good with his words, he’s naturally emotive whether you feel things deeply but don’t know how to express them. Heeseung and Eunseo offered you some help but you couldn’t even describe how you felt about Jaeyun because you’ve never been able to put it into words. Not when you were explaining it to Eunseo that day, not even to your notes app. It’s too pure and immense to put in a few paragraphs.

Jaeyun had struggled with writing his vows too, except it was the opposite, he couldn’t keep his words to an appropriate limit. All his love and devotion to you poured onto the scrapped paper turned into 5 A4 pages front and back.

“I’ll go first.” You blurt out. Better to get it over and done with and not feel pressured by what surely will be the most romantic words known to man that Jaeyun will say in the next 5 minutes. Jaeyun beams and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you find the piece of paper in your cleavage. The dress was beautiful but woefully for you it lacked pockets.

“I’ll love anything you say, baby.” He whispers to you because he knows you so well, the slight change in your breathing and trembling hands go unnoticed by most, but not to your lover.

“Okay,” You breathe out and begin, “Nothing makes me more sick than speaking publicly and I regret only having one glass of champagne before doing this,” The hall fills with laughter, pity or not you’ll take it. “My Jaeyun, for the past 14 years I have never been able to put into words my feelings for you, and I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to do so. My love for you goes beyond words spoken, it runs deep into my veins like a venom that slowly consumes me into madness, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. Alan Watts said that people don’t rise into love but fall and that life is an act of faith and an act of gamble. That love is an act of surrender to another person. When I fell in love with you, I went in with no safety net, no precaution, I just fell for you so deeply knowing that you would be there to catch me.

I want to be that for you too. That’s what my vow is to you, to catch you if you fall too deeply, carry you over every threshold, and love you for an eternity. Give me your hand today, and I’ll promise my heart to you forever.”

Silence. Is that good? Bad? You can’t even bring yourself to look at Jaeyun out of fear. All that re-writing and tearing your hair out was over before you knew it. Was it too short? How long was it supposed to go on anyway?

All these questions run wild in your head, and they’re all settled by a single touch, Jaeyun’s touch. He traps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, lifting your head so your eyes meet. Jaeyun’s loving pout is back, his iris’ flooded with the purity of his love. He liked it.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” With a swift lean down, his lips are on yours and you melt against him. He knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, but he needed you to know how much he appreciated the words you spoke, how he knows you would have spent weeks on your vows, and they were even better than anything he could have imagined.

The priest coughs, breaking the kiss, “Sorry, Father.” Your fiance bows softly and steps back again, a smirk spreading on his face, “My turn now, huh? No pressure or anything.” Everyone laughs once again, none of you have looked at your loved ones since the wedding started so you miss the weeping cries of his mother and others. They could feel the love in the room even just looking at you both.

Jaeyun reaches into his inner pocket pulling out his neatly written vows and starts, “Dear, Y/N. If I could go back and tell 15-year-old me that he would one day be marrying that girl who sat next to him on the bus journey to their first day of high school, I think he might pass out. From the minute you pushed passed people to take the seat next to me, and when the sun shone on your face, I knew you were going to change my life. I love you for everything you are, and everything you make me.”

He pauses, reading the rest of his vows to himself before folding the paper and putting it back in his pocket, “I spent hours trying to say the right words, but I guess I should just say how I feel in this moment, right? Truth is, my body and soul belong to you, they exist to love you and help you through thick and thin, to be there for you even when we are apart. I don’t want to exist as a separate entity from you but rather that we become one so we can share everything this life has to give us. Rain or sunshine, I want us to walk this path together. If you have a hard time, I’ll have a hard time with you. If you feel overwhelmed, I want to be overwhelmed with you. I know it’s usually the opposite, that I’m supposed to say I’ll take care of you and heal you, but facing these things together isn’t having someone hold you up, but rather taking your hand and understanding you, being complete with you one hundred percent. I vow that to you, my love.

You say to me all the time that you don’t deserve the love you receive from me, yet, I think it’s the other way around. Everything you have ever done since we’ve known one another has been for me. You’re selfless and I can’t ever thank you enough for that. But from this day, as my wife, stop sacrificing yourself lets live every single day together, as one, so we can always be connected.”

Tears are cascading down your face with every word he says just like you knew would happen. Jaeyun is the most beautiful, kind-hearted, generous, and loving person you have ever had the privilege of knowing. And as soon as you both say ‘I do’ he will be yours forever.

His thumb wipes your tears as he kisses you again, despite the huff from the priest, “I love you so much, Y/N. I’m so serious.” And it’s not just his words that convince you, it’s the way his lips are so gently capturing yours like this kiss seals everything you both said and locks it into eternity.

“I love you too, Jaeyun. So fucking much.” He smiles as he hears you swear, the exact thing you reprimanded him for earlier but it just meant you were too lost in the moment, too lost in being his.

“I suppose we should speed this up,” The priest starts, “Y/N L/N, do you take Sim Jaeyun to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do, forever.”

“And do you, Sim Jaeyun, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now keep kissing the bride I suppose.”

Jaeyun laughs into the kiss as he deepens it, trying his best to keep it modest considering your family is all watching. He has never been happier in his life, the way he can legally call you his wife feels surreal like a dream come true. If it is a dream, he never wants to wake up, “All mine.”

You smile as he whispers into your mouth, “All yours, Jaeyun.”

Your journey with Jaeyun has been a wild ride but none of you would change what happened because right now in this moment is exactly where you both should be. You are his love and he is yours, no time apart would have ever changed that, and it never will.

“Should we get out of here, Mr. Sim?”

“Let’s do it, Mrs. Sim.”

#enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #enha smut #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #aj writes #sim jaeyun

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mysticficti0n · 11 months

Text

can't help but miss you

Tom Kaulitz x Y/n Y/l/n

anonymous- I have a request, obvi you don’t have to do! Maybe like a 2023 smut with Tom Kaulitz( him and Heidi are dating not engaged) Reader and Tom had a thing/dating when he was younger/ aka when he had the dreads and they reunite at a party and the reader is like so pretty like model type and she’s like maybe a little younger than Tom and when they meet each others eyes Tom can’t seem to stop looking at her and like Heidi asks him what’s wrong but he just shrugs it off and later on when Heidi went to go get a drink or something the reader walks up to him and they end up going to the restroom and the smut happens… and then Heidi runs into him after but reader alr left and shit. ALSO I LOVE YOUR STORIES OFC YOU DONT HAVE TO ANSWER THIS REQUEST

No I absolutely love this- the worst thing fucking happened I deleted the wrong concept (baso I had two of these like a story set out and a write up and I deleted the write up x_x) but I re-wrote it and hopefully its better than the OG one ❤️

(smut/fluff)

people under 16+ please don't interact, if you do it's not my problem you've been warned!

　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

warnings- cheating, toxic relationship, fingering, sex, ownership, hair pulling, swearing, rough/smut into fluff, drugs are mentioned

words- 4k

(oh this is your outfit btw just without the gloves- black n white dress)

The music was blaring as I walked into my old friend Gustav's 35th birthday party, I wasn't expecting a blow out like this but I mean when I herd Bill was in charge it didn't fully surprise me, I looked around and everyone was dressed in black and white as we were told on the invitations. I turned to Beth my sister who'd been invited too and she was already laughing and smiling with some women, I carried on through the venue telling her I'd catch up with her later on

I saw some people I recognised but I'm nearly 15 years older now, freshly 31 years old, I turned around a corner and saw the smiling faces of three of my old best friends "Holy shit! Y/n oh my god!" Bill ran over pulling me into a hug- his hugs I've missed for years "you look amazing!" he let go and I gave him a spin

"you two! look at this outfit- Bill you never dress badly I swear to god" he giggled grabbing my hand and pulling me to the group

"look who it is" Georg smiled pulling me into a hug and I held him back "its been so long!"

"I know, ten years... shit thirteen I think since we last saw each other" I shook my head in disbelief at how the time has flown by, when we all last knew each other Tokio Hotel was going on their biggest tour and I was just getting big in the modelling world- now I'm one of the top models and they still do crazy big tours around the world "Gustav! happy birthday!" I called seeing him come to me and hugging me like the other two

"hey- I didn't even know you were coming! thank you by the way" he smiled- he looked different- they all did but none bad "how's life?"

"pretty good, Beth moved in with me not long ago, mom and dad are doing well and jobs just keeping me busy, how about you I herd you had a baby! what the fuck" a smile creeped onto his face as he pulled out his phone showing me all the pictures of the small girl and how she's already so grown up "god she's beautiful"

"just like her mom" he chirped pulling a women forward "Linda this is Y/n, childhood friend" a brown haired women stepped forward giving me a smile- she was beautiful. Our conversation continued till I felt a tap at my shoulder and I I saw him for the first time since we'd split back in 2010, his hair wasn't in long black braids, clothes not baggy and lip piercing still there no- his hair was brown and blonde waved and around his head, in black slacks and matching button, lip pricing gone "holy shit! hey!" Tom's arms closed around me giving me a huge hug, tighter than the rest

"Hi, fuck it's been so long!" he hummed into my hair pulling away but his hands still holding my arms "you look amazing!" I smiled hearing his voice again

"you too! the hair is new" he nodded playing with the ends like a kid "my god I can't believe I haven't seen you guys since I was like 19, its crazy" everyone said a string of 'yeah' and 'fuck its been long' but were interrupted by a voice that called Tom away, I looked to see a tall blonde women who I immediately recognised, Heidi Klum

"oh Y/n this is my girlfriend- Heidi this is-" the women stepped forward and grinned

"Y/n Y/l/n right? I saw you in vogue, you looked gorge in that red lace" I nodded feeling flattered a model like her had seen me but then it clicked GIRLFRIEND?- I would never have expected it

"lovely to meet you- I've seen some of your shoots and you're beautiful, especially " she blushed grabbing my hand. we kept talking till my sister came over and pulled me to go get drinks and I waved to the group

TOM'S POV-

My jaw could've fallen off when I saw her, she was even more pretty then before and I didn't even know that was possible, her hair looked perfect around her face, longer than before, make up made her look sexier than I could even imagine, her eyes were lighter than the smokey eyes she'd do daily, and the dress- god how it went around her thighs and fit her curves perfectly

I couldn't help but feel my heart skip when I looked over at her, I had to stop, I have Heidi but... but I couldn't.

the night went on but I couldn't stop thinking about Y/n- every memory of her, remembering those feelings that were flooding back from 13 years ago- the time I made the worst mistake

-flashback-

"are you fucking serious? what are you talking about?" Y/n spoke staring at her boyfriend who was leaning on the kitchen counter staring at the girl, eyes had dark circles around them, lips looked dry

"we should break up-" Toms voice was strong but he was falling apart inside, hearing those words come from his mouth felt like stabs to his heart

"Tom what the fuck!" the girls voice got louder and she slammed her bags into the floor, Y/n had just got off work and was more then excited to get home- it was Friday meaning date night but came home to see loads beer bottles thrown in the bin on the drive and cigaret boxes hiding between them "what happened within the 6 hours I was gone. you.. you were saying how much you loved me this morning and kissing me and now- now you want to break up?" her voice cracked even mentioning breaking up, she loved him more than life its self and had for the last 3 years they'd been dating, he helped her buy her first house, spent Christmas and birthdays together- why did he want to end it? is all she could think of

"well I was wrong and- I didn't mean any of that shit, I don't fucking love you... I haven't for years" his voice slurred. Y/n thought she'd faint, years?

"you're drunk- ah don't even deny it I saw the bottles Tom" he rolled his eyes walking to the door where she was stood and went to open it "what are you doing?" her voice quivered "Tom what are you doing... Tom please what are you doing!" she started to yell as he just stood over her looking to the door "TOM PLEASE WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she broke down grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him to look down "TOM! TOM LOOK AT ME! FUCK SAKE JUST LOOK AT ME TOM!" she screamed and the boy looked down seeing her, mascara running down her face, eyes full of tears and screams leaving her mouth but his mind was a blur with the mix of alcohol, tobacco, weed and the pure sadness he felt, he felt he was slipping from reality

"Y/n let go-" he spoke calmly "you need to let go of me" his voice began to shake as he tried to pry the girl off him

"NO! NO WHAT HAPPENED! WHAT DID I DO TOM PLEASE FUCKING TELL ME, DON'T JUST LEAVE!" Y/n poked her finger into his chest and again he just walked back into the kitchen and to the fridge pulling another beer out "stop drinking- just tell me!" she stormed to the kitchen and snatched the bottle from his hand

"you did nothing Y/n-" the girl argued back but he soon cut her off "Y/N I FUCKING CHEATED OKAY- I CHEATED ON YOU" he caught himself of guard screaming at her pointing his finger in her face and slamming his first onto the table, she cowered down but soon her eyes narrowed

"YOU FUCKING CHEATED!" with the bottle in hand the girl threw it toward the boy missing his face by inches she watched it smash onto the wall and explode "WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU CHEAT ON ME? WAS I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU? DID I NOT GIVE YOU ENOUGH?"

"YOU WERE ENOUGH GOD DAMN IT YOU'RE EVERYTHING TO ME Y/N- I FUCKING LOVE YOU, I DON'T KNOW WHY I DID IT OKAY!" the boy shouted back but Y/n wasn't having it she started finding anything she could and throwing it at him, oranges, keys, glasses, soap bottles you name it, she threw it

"YOU PEICE OF SHIT DON'T TELL ME YOU LOVE ME! YOU WOULDN'T CHEAT IF YOU LOVED ME AND YOU JUST FUCKING SAID YOU HAVEN'T LOVED ME IN YEARS" her heart began to shatter at the sight of him to the point she had to hold on to the counter- the same counter they'd make dinner together on and celebrate birthdays drink together, he'd sometimes lift her onto it and they kiss for hours on end, Tom walked over to the girl grabbing her hand she wanted to let go but she couldn't not with the way her head was, the world was spinning and she felt she'd fall any second

"I'm sorry- Y/n I'm sorry I don't know why I did it please I- I can't even look at myself without feeling like I've destroyed the one thing I love so much- I still love you Y/n, I never for a second of any year stopped, I don't know why I said what I said, I never stopped loving you but I can't be with you- not after what I've done" tears fell from the couples eyes as they stood there

"you have fucked me over Tom- I fucking loved you, I'd do anything for you and I get this? you said you'd marry me, we'd have a family, grow old, watch life become better together ; why did you ruin this?" her hands pounded on his chest with every word "you have ruined me- everything was going so well and I want you to know what ever happens next- is your fault" her words stung like hell, he could only stare and regret everything he ever did with that women.. why did he let his old ways get in the way "fuck you Tom- get the fuck out of my house- I never wanna see you ever fucking again, come get your shit tomorrow when I'm not here and I don't want to hear from you again" and with that the two never spoke again, never saw each other again and the feelings just faded with the years

-end of flashback-

now I'm standing here watching her dance around to her old favourite songs and sing like she always did around the house- god I missed her so much. I still felt a pain when I saw her, when we broke up I saw her in magazines, tv, posters, everywhere and would need to smoke straight after and drink something strong to try pull my mind from her- Y/n Y/ln

"hun whats wrong are you okay?" Heidi tapped me, pulling me from my thoughts

"huh- oh yeah I'm good just looking for Georg" I lied seeing her nod and she quickly said she was going to the bar with some friends and walked away, my eyes drifted back to Y/n, laughing with people we knew back in the days but soon I realised she wasn't looking at them- she was looking at-at me. she waved of the group and came to me with the same grin I remember being in love with

"hey! are you alright you seem a bit- gone" I rolled my eyes seeing the girl laugh "or was my dancing just that amazing?"

"oh of course" I chuckled seeing her start dancing again "wow you could be a professional" she stopped taking a sip of her drink and placing the empty cup on the side "I can't believe its been thirteen years" I sighed seeing her nod

"yeah- last time I saw you was erm.. when we broke up" a awkward laugh escaped her lips "fun times"

"yeah- I wanna apologise for it- I... the way I did it was stupid I was drinking and smoking because I thought it would make it easier but fuck it only made things so much worse and- and I'm sorry Y/n" the girl looked to me, her doe eyes softening and a smile spreading back along her red lips

"thank you...you know for the next two years after we broke up I sometimes wondered if you'd come home or just come see me you know- In a way I'm glad you didn't but god I missed you" I felt my heart swell- I did Dave past her house arguing with myself just to go knock the door, or call her and say I needed her... but I could never bring myself to do it

"I wanted to but I didn't want a orange pelted at me" I played she giggled again hitting my arm "see you can't stop hitting me!"

"shut up Thomas" hearing my nickname nearly knocked me out "god I haven't said that in a while"

"...I fucking missed you" I caught myself of guard, her y/c/e shot into my gaze and I felt my breath hitch, but I wasn't some dumb teen anymore I wanted to tell her everything"I- I miss everything about us- the dates, your voice, the long nights we'd be up talking, making dinner, singing songs, dance at parties, hold each other, spend holidays together- fuck I miss our..." I halted deciding if it was right to say, Y/n gave me a small nod and with a single breath it came out "I miss our sex- nobody is as good or understands me the way you did and it sounds crazy but fuck its true- I miss you Y/n- I regret everything" her eyes seemed glassy but everything I said was true

"I- I miss it all too, no one is like you- nobody treats me like you did, I- I miss you fucking every day I try to ignore it but 15 years I still think about you, I'm happy we moved on but I want you back... as stupid as that sounds" it was like the world only had us in it- my mind could only focus on her I wanted to kiss her- god kissing Y/N was like a dream come true for me. Every time we locked lips, my heart would flutter and my stomach would get butterflies. I loved the way her soft lips felt against mine and the way she'd close her eyes and melt into me, like nothing else mattered in the world. I could spend hours just kissing her and never get tired of it. It felt like a beautiful escape from the real world, where all that mattered was us and the moment we shared. Even when we had to part ways, the memory of our kisses would linger in my mind and make me smile.

in a fast move I caught her lips in mine, hands wrapping around her waist it was like I was 16 all over again, Y/n wrapped up in my arms and kissing her any chance I got, for a moment she was hesitant but I felt her mold to me, her hand tangled in my hair- I'd never felt her grip there but it felt so right. Thankfully we were in the corner of the room and as the night got later the only lights that were on were the ones on the dance floor so we weren't in view of anyone unless they really looked, my lips moved from her lips to her neck- I nipped just below her jaw, I remembered everything about her body, every dip, curve, spot. A sweet moan filled my ear making me only hungrier for her "fuck- Tom people might see us, be careful" hearing my name fall from her lips took me back. I felt the girl pull back and look down, my eyes followed her

"shit- I..I'm sorry" I saw the tent formed in my slacks brushing against her thigh, my eyes met with hers again a smirk forming on her lips. Without any more words we slid away into one of the many bathrooms in the building through the corridor and down the stairs "god I've fucking missed you baby-" she smiled pulling my face to her, foreheads hitting, she pressed one last kiss to my lips and sat on the bathroom counter, shoving all the soaps and towels to the floor.

It had been 15 years since I last touched her let alone had sex with Y/n. I was nervous, excited, and scared all at the same time. I was worried whether I would be able to please her, whether I would be able to pleasure her, whether I would be able to make her feel the same way I had made her feel all those years ago when I could make her the most beautiful mess in the matter of minuets. I was scared of disappointing Y/n, of not being able to give her the same pleasure I had given her before. But despite all these fears, I was eager to be with Y/n once again, to experience the same feeling that we had experienced so long ago. I was ready to explore a new kind of connection with her, to explore the depths of our newly rediscovered lust. I was ready to fuck Y/n and have the pleasure that I had been missing for so long.

my hands wondered up her thighs onto the hem of the dress "can I?" she nodded lifting herself slightly so I could get the dress over her ass, I pulled it up revealing a small lacy black thong "fuck-" I groaned feeling my self wanting to rip it off her, she lifted her arms allowing me to get the dress fully off and I watched as her tits fell free , they were still my favourite eye candy all these years on "god I've missed those" I lunged forward taking her one boob into my mouth, swirling her nipple with my tongue hearing her soft noises escape her lips, her hands tangled themselves into my hair as she pulled me closer

"Tom- please i.. I need more" I pulled away looking to her face flushed red, I let my hands fall to her hips and play with the thong strap "please" she whined grabbing my hands and putting it to her heat, there was a small patch in the fabric- she was already soaking

"god still so needy hm?" she nodded "so wet for me-" my words came out in a almost moan and I watched her trying to roll her hips on my hand, I pulled away and shoved her hands back, I leaned down grabbing her legs and pulling her closer to me, my chin resting on her bare stomach "want me to take these off?" she hummed getting closer to me, I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and grabbed both sides of the cotton ripping them apart

"TOM!" she yelled eyes widening at her panties in two "I-"

"its fine baby, I'll clean you up well so you wont need these, can be our little secret" her face went red again telling me I did a good job as I stuffed the fabric into my pocket "now- let me see that pretty little pussy" her legs parted and she was leaking already- she was beautiful, I let my ring finger slide through her folds hearing small whimpers string from her mouth "good girl, you like me touching you?"

"yes Tom- fuck I've missed this please- please I need more, don't tease pl-please" I laughed at her words pressing a small kiss to her head before letting my finger dip into her heat "SHIT-"

"shush- don't want people hearing you up stairs" she covered her mouth with her free hand and closed her eyes- I could've came at the sight but I knew I had to wait, I brought another finger into her feeling her tighten around me "good girl- you want more don't you?" she nodded opening her eyes that were already tearing up

"I need- I need you.." hearing her voice so quiet was music to my ears, she was so god damn hot "ple-" I sped up my pace adding a third didget and a cry spilled from her "I..I'm gonna- TOM!" I ripped my fingers out and let my mouth do the finishing part- tasting her for the first time in so long I hummed at the flavour "shit shit shit" she came, hands tightening around my shoulders

"you taste even sweeter doll" I grinned coming back up with my chin slick with her "think you can take more?" her mouth opened sucking for air "mh?" my hand cupped her jaw, thumb soothing her lips, I pulled away and brought the fingers that had once been in her, with no hesitation she took them into her mouth, cleaning her of me with a purr

"yes- I can please" with that I hand my hand back and unbuckled my belt, letting my slacks fall to the floor followed by my boxer, Y/n came closer unbuttoning my shirt reviling my chest, I pressed one last hungry kiss to her lips before lining myself up with her heat

"tell me when to stop-" she nodded her head and gently I pushed into her- the feeling taking me back, so warm and she fit so perfectly around me "ugh- fuck you never changed" a dopey smile appeared on her lips

"okay- you can move" she propped her self up on her hands, my hands holding her hips, I pulled out agonisingly slow "Tom please- don't tease me, not after this long" she breathed, eyes staring into mine. I snapped my hips out and back into the warmth quickly "SHIT" she screamed

"good girl- take it Y/n, I know you can doll come on" I spoke between thrusts, I grabbed her legs throwing them over my shoulders going deeper into her, a high moan flooded the bathroom as I pressed against her g-spot

"fuck right there babe- right there" hearing my old pet name sent me into overdrive, I pulled her off the counter and pressed her against the granite, ass slapping again my hips and I slammed myself into her, I watched her face in the mirror- tears of pleasure forming in her y/c/e's, mouth wide open "Oh my god- I forgot how big you- you are" a proud grin plastered my face

"look at yourself baby- watch how good I fuck you" her eyes opened wider as she looked at her self "look at you angel taking me so well ,cock feels so good in you Y/n" I whined pushing myself as deep as I could

I let go of her hip where my hand perfectly fit and twisted her hair into a makeshift pony-tail, pulling her head back, my lips in the shell of her ear "look so pretty like this baby- god I missed you" I pressed kisses to her hair line still watching her in the mirror, tits bouncing at ever push "so perfect for me... this pussy is all mine- nobody will ever fuck you better than me huh?"

"no- shit no, this pussy is yours Tom- all yours" I felt my cock twitch and my legs go weak "fuck... Tommy I'm so close" I let her hair go, pulling out and twisting her around so I could see her face, she grabbed my cock lining it back up and I sunk back in

"cum for me babe- fuck, just like tha-" before I could finish my sentence I felt her tighten around me, squeezing me In all the right places, her eyes squeezed shut and a sob good enough to be a porn star erupted from her throat and soon I felt myself cum into her, pumping her full, our liquids running down my cock and on her thighs

"fuck yes- feels so.. good" her voice was a whisper as she clung onto my shoulders "good-so good" I could tell her mind was blank, as we both came down from our high I stared to her face, eyes closed as she caught her breath- I missed her, not just because of the sex but being able to walk up and wrap my arms around her, talk to her on the phone the whole night on tour, give her gifts and spoil her, be there when she cried

"I love you" I spoke pressing a kiss to her cheek "I love you so much- I miss you Y/n" her eyes opened, head nodding at all my words

"i... I know Tom but- we can't, you- you know that, you have Heidi now- I'm just a memory; but I love you- and I want you to know that" she panted catching her breath, her hand cupped my jaw as she pressed a small kiss to my lips, where her favourite piercing was

"i... I don't want you to be a memory Y/n-" she wrapped her arms around me and I couldn't help but hold her again tears pricking my eyes "I don't want to lose you again"

"it's over Tom- but I'll always be here, I'll always love you but we can't be together" I nodded my head, peppering her face with kisses and finally to her lips; it wasn't hungry this time- passionate, longing and meaningful, painfully as I knew this was the last time

after we cleaned up and hugged one last time we made our ways out, going our separate ways once again- I knew she'd be going home- back to the house where I ruined everything.

I went over to the bar ordering a shot of vodka and taking it quickly, I felt arms tangle around me and rush of hope filled me "y/-"

"darling where have you been?" Heidi kissed my cheek raking her hands through my hair

"just in the bathroom" i spoke seeing her nod her head- only if she knew

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

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https-genesis · 1 year

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me gusta la mar me gustas tú | n.s. x f!reader ( i like the sea, i like you )

Sypnosis; You love the sea. Neteyam loves you.

Contents; disgustingly sweet fluff, hooked neteyam, metkayina reader, reader is lowkey an oblivious sunshine, use of y/n, neteyam is in love but like totally

Dictionary; tsahik - interpretor of eywa, itan - son, tanhi - bioluminescent freckles

A/N; based of the song "me gustas tu"... cries.

Neteyam didn't want to leave the forrest. He didn't want to leave his grandmother, his friends, his home. But as the big brother and future Olo'eyktan he knew he had to be the role model. So he put on a brave face, packed his bags, put on his cloak and set off marching behind Lo'ak. Neteyam could hear the soft whimpers of his mother and the cries of the people around him -they had lost their Olo'eyktan, lost their protector, lost a part of themselves- as they watched his family walk down the soil path.

Looking back at High Camp, Neteyam could feel the cold wind hit his cheek and the bitter taste of farewell burnt his throat. Leaving home had never crossed him mind before, but he understood that whoever had kidnapped his siblings was going to come for his father soon.

'You are the big brother, Neteyam. Act like it.' And he did. The mere sight of Tuk tucked neatly under his mother's chin made his eyes water but for the sake of keeping his siblings sane Neteyam blinked the tears away.

Arriving at Awa'atlu was at best the worst thing that had happened to Neteyam by far. The intense stares of the reef Na'vi made his blood run cold; they all looked so different. Their skin remained blue, but so pale compared to his that he felt it resembled Spider's. On the other hand, the men where tall, much taller than Jake, and Neteyam couldn't help but feel small under their judging eyes. Their arms and tails were wider and he guessed that swimming was much easier that way.

Neteyam had brought his hands up in surrender to show that they were no threat but the defensive stance of the Na'vi around him stayed. He missed home already and it hadn't even been a day that they'd been here.

As they came to a halt he could see what he assumed was the Olo'eyktan's son; the people parted idly to make way for him and his friend. Out of respect Neteyam brought his hand to his forehead to sign 'I see you'. The boy stared at him in what seemed to be disgust and never signed back, which made Neteyam's eyebrows raise in surprise.

The sudden noise of water splashing around made every head turn in its direction to show a handful of winged beasts emerging from the sea. Neteyam noted how much longer they were compared to ikrans, how their beaks elongated into a longer one. The men on top of the large animals came to a slow halt as they swiftly jumped off their ride to march up the bank of sand. One of them walked towards the commotion and his stance made Neteyam believe he was the Olo'eyktan. Jake bowed his head and spoke, "I see you, Tonowari."

Then, the crowd parted again to reveal a tall woman littered in tattoos from head to toe, which he assumed was the Tsahik. She was dressed much more elegantly than the others and she bore a large shell unto her forehead. Neteyam heard his father say once more, "I see you, Ronal."

Out the corner of his eye, Neteyam catched the figure of two younger Na'vi. They were both girls, both atop another creature. They gracefully slid off to glide underwater, emerging one after the other. He noticed how one of them had loose curls and a woven shell attached to her hair while the other had a similar hairlstyle; her hair fell into her face to make bangs and the rest laid beautifully down her back. She was slightly taller than the other girl but still shorter than him, her skin was pale, just like the others, but somehow Neteyam couldn't bring himself to feel distaste for it.

The Olo'eyktan's son and his friends, whom he had met earlier, had started poking fun at the way they looked and grabbed their tails harshly at their base. As Neteyam was about to hiss out a warning, the two girls ran over hurriedly. The taller girl spoke first, "Ao'nung, Rotxo. Do not. You are being mean."

The boy who he guessed was Ao'nung replied, "Come on! Don't you find them a bit funny?" The girl grimaced at him before slapping his arm harshly. "You are being unfair. Leave them alone." Ao'nung smirked wide, lifting both hands up in fake surrender. "Alright, y/n." The girl, whomst the name he now knew, grabbed her friend's hand. "Come, Tsireya. Your father is this way."

Eywa. It was but the first day Neteyam had seen the almost overwhelmingly pretty girl and he already felt the need to stick himself to her side whenever she was around. She hadnt even dared to glanced at him however, but the flush of her cheeks and the way she twirled her curls in her hand made Neteyam think that either she was extremely shy ( which was out of the question because of the way she trampled over Ao'nung's attitude ) or she was also somehow interested in him.

☆

You had been assigned, alongside Tsireya, to teach the family how to swim and ride ilu. Today was particularly good -the breeze was gentle and the sun hit your skin- and you were sat on a large boulder with Neteyam and his brother, Lo'ak, and Tsireya. Out of the corner of your eye you catched a glimpse of Lo'ak's flushed face. The boy was very apparently in love with your friend, but you couldn't blame him. Tsireya was the daughter of the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, both very beautiful people. The fact that she turned out to be one of the prettiest women in your village didn't impress anyone.

Your right hand was placed gently onto Neteyam's stomach while the other was on his chest. You were simply monitoring his breathing technique, but Neteyam's heart couldn't stop racing. Having your face so close to him that he could feel the warmth of your breath agaisnt his shoulder made him weak, his breathing becoming shallow. ¹"You are breathing too heavy. Slow breaths, like I showed."

His breaths stopped altogether and the back of his hand came to wipe at his forehead. "Sorry- Sorry." You giggled then, short and sweet, and it reminded Neteyam of a certain sweet fruit he often ate back in the forest. The hand that rested onto his chest moved to his back to adjust his posture. "Here. Breathe again, slow." You had stared him right in the eyes and took the short second to note how his eyes were such a deep yellow. Almost like some rare seashells you could find at the bottom of the ocean, like the sunset you were so fond of.

☆

i like my village

You stared at his for no more than ten seconds yet Neteyam had felt it was minutes, and he himself found comfort in your irises. Blue like the sky and the sea that were so powerful and dangerous in themselves, yet yours held a soft glow that reflected your being in a whole. You were kind, too kind, and you never seemed to even have a bad bone in your body. Eywa save him- was he in love with you?

i like you

Neteyam grinned slightly and his brother smirked. Payback material, for sure.

It had been a few days since that encounter, you and Tsireya decided to take the boys swimming. Between those eclipses you had started to spend more time with the Sullys and by some Eywa sent miracle Ao'nung had lowered his bullying to a smidge. Neteyam started to notice more things about you, too. The slight pep in your step whenever you walked and the way the children always seemed to swarm to you when you were around.

It was a very shallow part of the sea, nothing but a few meters deep. You went down first, then Tsireya after, and the boys followed. You had flipped onto your back to look at Neteyam but the way his braids circled his face like a dark halo and the way his eyes shined in amazement had you staring for longer than you anticipated. A few moments later, he turned to you where you had reached the bottom of the ocean, collecting pretty shells and corals you found.

When Neteyam arrived back at the family marui, Neytiri had caught a glance of his hand. "What is this, ma itan?" The boy's cheeks darkned a purple hue and he took a seat next to his mother. Neytiri was curious -Neteyam had never been the type to collect things- and as her son gently dropped the beautiful miss-matched shells onto the mat below them, she grinned. "Oh, Neteyam. Did you say thank you?"

You played in the water for nothing but an hour and swam back to shore altogether. You had approached in after Lo'ak and Tsireya roamed off. "Look, Neteyam! I found these for you. My people usually make clothing out of these, but you can weave them into a necklace if you'd like." You smile widely, extending your hand full of shells to him. "Oh, how nice. They're very pretty, y/n. Thank you."

i like the sea

His head fell forward in embarrassment and he nodded. "Yes, mom. I did- She picked them for me. I didn't know what to say, made a skxawng of myself-" Neytiri paused, her grin spreading even wider. "She? My son is in love?" She dragged the last word out slightly and Neteyam had to hide his face into his hands. Maybe he was in love with you, after all.

i like you

☆

The next day, you had decided to take Neteyam to yours and Tsireya's hidden spot. It wasn't too far from the village but there were little to no chances for anyone else to find it because of how well it was hidden. You had urged Neteyam onto and ilu and rode off so suddenly he thought there was an emergency until he saw the wide smile etched onto your features. He followed you gingerly, and by the time you came to a stop in front of a wall covered in vines and grime, Neteyam was just behind you.

"Look, Nete'. This is my favorite place in the village." You urged your ilu forward slowly to brush aside a patch of vines which revealed a cave -its entrance was smaller but he could see its true width at the end-. Neteyam followed to your left, taking in the bioluminescent insects and sea creatures. He turned to you once more and observed your face longingly.

Your nose was covered in tanhi that shined brightly in the dark, your fangs on display behind those plush lips of yours. When he finished admiring you, you had reached the wider part of the tunnel. Water was in the middle while the sides where made of rock and moss, and Neteyam could see some mats already laid out alongside some baskets of fruit.

You both departed from your ilus to sit upon the mats. You scrunched the water out of you curls and stared at his face to gauge his expression. He seemed in his head- almost like he wasn't listening. You knew he was, though, Neteyam always listened to what you said.

"Me and Tsireya come here often. That is why there is food. Do you like it?" You said, turning to him. He took in how the water reflected the light around it and how your eyes glowed like the moon at its peak. "I do. It's is very beautiful.." Neteyam paused to clear his throat and spoke again, much lighter. "It makes me think of you."

i like my friends

"Really? How?" You asked, with a hint of innocence. Somehow Neteyam wasn't sure if it was feigned or true, but he answer anyway. "I like how peaceful it is. Just like you. And the moonlight hitting the water is pretty.. Just like.. you." You had turned, facing him now. Your bosy leaned forward on its own, Neteyam pulling you in inconsciously. "I like how it makes me feel at ease.. Just like you do."

Neteyam faced you now, both your faces being mere inches away from each other's. "I like it... I- I like you." The corners of your mouth rose slightly and your heart beat so fast you were sure Neteyam could hear it. "I like you too, Nete'." The soft press of his lips against yours made you flush and his hand came to grasp yours. He definitely is in love with you.

i like you.

taking a breather from all the angst I post- here is neteyam fluff

#x reader #avatar #avatar twow #avatar twow x reader #avatar x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam sully x reader #Spotify

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azznyra · 1 year

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Hi! My name is Nyra and this is my very first post ever! i’ve been a reader for years but i’ve never had the courage to write or post anything ever. i’m very scared to post this, but i’ll hope some people will come across this and like it. any and every feedback is highly appreciated. please be kind! also know that english isn’t my first language so forgive me for any mistakes! i hope you enjoy :))

Drunken night routine

here is my Azriel x reader fluff fic. TW : small mentions of anxiety but that’s it.

includes reader being drunk af with nesta and az being a fluffball with her as he gets her ready for bed!

You were trying your best to just concentrate long enough to winnow inside. Nesta blowing you ear off was not helping and you made sure to tell her "just keep quiet for a second and maybe we’ll get there". You had had the shittiest day and were just looking to unwind with one of your closest friend. You had both gone to this sweet little restaurant down the Sidra, enjoying each other’s company and a humongous amount of food. It started with a bottle of red wine, just to fuel yourselves for your gossiping session and now it promised you the biggest hungover for tomorrow.

After what seemed like a century, you managed to get you both up to the balcony attached to the big dining area. The floor-to-ceiling windows were opened, the curtains softly moving with the wind and all you could hear was Cassian’s deep chuckle.

You and Nesta were still holding onto each other when you looked up and saw the General approaching you, reaching his hand out for Nesta to take. He led you both inside and turned to you, taking you in "Rough night, y/n ?" your answering scowl was immediate "fuck off you’re just jealous Nesta likes me more". To take it even further, you leaned closer to your best friend and kissed her on the cheek, multiple times, while she was only grinning, her smile getting bigger and bigger by the second.

Cassian was halfway through with his comeback when your gaze landed on the second male in the room. Azriel was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, legs deliciously spread, nursing a glass of liquor in his left hand, his piercing gaze already set on you. He was dressed in casual clothes tonight, which didn’t fail to surprise you. In all the years you had known him, you didn’t think you had seen him like this more than four times. He looked so relaxed like this, you thought his lap looked inviting, it was almost beckoning you to sit there, perch yourself on his thigh. Hoping his arm would wrap around your waist, maybe tug your back against his chest. If you were lucky, maybe he’d even — you stopped your thoughts when you realized where your mind had wandered to. You let go of Nesta and took quick but wobbly steps towards the shadowsinger, calling out his name in the sweetest way you could manage.

He quickly put down his glass and got up to meet you half way, smirking. You knew a witty remark was already on its way but you could not care less. You were so intoxicated that you didn’t think twice about what you were doing and just launched yourself at him. Your arms went around his waist, tugging him closer to your body. You not only heard but felt him take in a sharp breath, his ribcage expanding beneath your arms.

You’d never dared to get this close to him while being sober. You knew he liked his privacy and was not always confortable with physical affection. You could see it behind his eyes, see his self-hatred eating him out, telling him that he wasn’t worthy of love. Every time it happened, you felt your own heart breaking, cleaving in two. For he was worth so much more that what he allowed himself, he was worth everything. If only he could see himself the way you saw him.

Azriel’s arms finally landed around your shoulders and you got a whiff of his smell. You could not help but inhale it once more, on purpose. You then looked up to him and said "You smell so heavenly right now, Az". You only grinned up at him, secretly relishing in the red that took over the apple of his cheeks. It was concerning how proud you were of making his usually stoic face blush so easily from only one compliment.

Az felt like he was dying. Maybe he was and that’s why he was imagining you clinging to him right now, looking up at him with the most delicious smile adorning your lips and a cunning gleam in your eyes. You looked so beautiful that his mind was blank for a minute, filled with nothing but thoughts of your perfect face. He took in your long, shiny brown hair, which was curled tonight. His favorite. He longed to run his finger through the silky strands, maybe wrap his fist around it if you’d let him. You had never gotten this close to him before and he was in such deep shit. You were so drunk out of your mind though, that’s why you were burying your face in his chest. He looked up and met Cassian’s eyes, his brother winking at him, while holding onto his mate, ready to take her to bed.

Right, your bed. He just had to make sure you arrived in one piece to your bed and then you’d sleep and he’d be freed of his desire for you. At least for tonight. "Alright, your night’s over, let’s go to bed, y/n"

You shook your head, you didn’t want to go to bed, your night had just gotten interesting now that you had Az all to yourself. He insisted, and, well, you couldn’t really deny him anything. So you agreed "Only if you help me though, I don’t think I can walk straight, Az".

Azriel smiled, and you realized he had let go of your shoulders, silently offering you his elbow to hold onto. He always did this, offered anything but his hands. You knew how he felt about them, could understand where he was coming from. However, you couldn’t stand to enable his thoughts by not touching his hands on purpose. Not tonight. You graciously ignored his elbow and slid your palm against his. Your hand was so cold, having spent the whole evening outside on a terrasse, while Azriel’s hand was so warm you wanted him to warm your whole body with it. You looked straight into his eyes, gauging his reaction. You could tell he was overthinking this, wondering if he was somehow tainting you with his scarred flesh. You had to reassure him that this was okay, that you didn’t mind and never would. Your brain was too fuzzy so you just asked him "Is this okay? I hope it is, I’ve always wanted to do this, actually". Azriel was still frozen, staring at you like he’d never seen you before, another bright blush taking place on his cheeks. He ended up nodding, so slightly you almost missed it. So you gave his hand a squeeze and he led you towards the big stairs.

He was quite literally dragging you by the hand at this point, taking such long strides that you almost couldn’t keep up. You both stoped in front of the stairs, and Az gave you a funny look and you just knew he was about to tease you before he even opened his mouth. "Sure you can take this, y/n ? I wouldn’t want you to fall on your face" He said, smirking as he talked. He looked so proud of himself, thinking he could tease you like this. So you answered him with the same malice in your voice "Well, maybe you should carry me, then. If you’re so worried about my face".

He didn’t even look taken aback, he looked proud, you thought. That must be the wine though, you tried to convince yourself. Then, all of a sudden, in a fraction of a second, his hand let go of yours, one arm went under yours knees while the other was around your waist. And here you were, nestled against Azriel’s chest, so comfortable in his arms. You tried not to give too much thought in how good this felt, how right. You felt like you were exactly right where you were supposed to be. You were feeling so courageous tonight, so much that, if anything went wrong, you’d blame it on the alcohol. That’s what pushed you to bring your face closer to his neck and brush your nose against his skin. Just once. Just to know what he smelled like so close, and it was so good that you did it again. Then you heard him let out a soft exhale, and another, a little more rugged this time, it seemed. And he whispered, voice so low you had to strain your Fae ears to hear, "you’re tickling me, y/n".

You were about to apologize, when you realized he had stopped walking and was standing in front of your bedroom door. You reached your hand out and turned the doorknob, allowing the male to enter your room. You were about to thank him for taking you here, when your brain registered that he had already walked farther than your bed and seemed to be heading towards your bathroom. He silently asked you to open this door as well, and then set you down on the counter on the left, right next to where all your beauty products were neatly organized.

It was overwhelming, his caring attitude, the fact that he was in your bathroom right now, looking so at ease amongst your things. It seemed so effortless, so natural for him to be there.

He turned back to look at you, and you wanted to ask him what this feeling was, why he was confusing your heart even more, but you only asked "what are you doing ?"

"Running you a hot bath", he simply answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world, as if he would ever do anything else. Then he added "get in and wash yourself, I’ll go get you some water while you’re in there".

So you did just that, trying very hard to concentrate on using the right soap, then you wet your hair and washed it as well. You had a whole routine to do tonight, but it was already so much effort just to wash it right now that you gave up. You’d regret this tomorrow but you were way too intoxicated to care.

Azriel was going mad. He was sure of it. He must be sick, there was no other explanation as to why he’d ever put himself in such a situation. All he had to do was put you on your bed and leave the damn room. Instead, he had selfishly wanted to hold you longer. He remembered it was the day you always washed your hair. You had been unable to do it once and then you’d been grumpy all day, so sensitive to everything you’d ended up crying when Cassian had eaten the last cookie from Elain’s batch. Nothing had been able to console you, even when the Seer had offered you to make another batch just for you. The shadowsinger remembered you telling him it was because your whole routine had been changed and you were so anxious.

So that’s what he told himself as he ran you the bath, it was so you wouldn’t miss your whole hair routing thing and be anxious tomorrow. Nothing to do with you way you were clinging to him, brushing your nose against his neck, pretending not to breathe him in. Multiple times.

Anyway, this would end soon because he was simply going to bring you a glass of water and leave you. He’d go to his room, lock the damn door and try to sleep this off. So this is what he did, he picked up the glass and headed upstairs again.

You had just finished rinsing your hair when you heard a knock. You allowed Azriel to step inside and saw him heading towards the counter, then pick up your towel and hold it in front of you. He wanted you to get out of the bath, you realized. His head was turned back, his eyes shut tight. He was behaving like the gentleman he was and your heart soared at the sight. He was so respectful and thoughtful but he never gave himself any credit for anything. It was painful, really.

You stepped out, willing your legs not to wobble and took the towel from his hands, wrapping it around yourself. You told him he could open his eyes now, and thanked him, for what felt like the millionth time tonight. It was then that he said words you’d have never thought would leave his mouth, "I’m surprised you’ve finished your whole hair routine so fast in your current state".

You stared at him, mouth open, probably gaping like a fish out of water.

"What?"

You must have misheard him because there was no way in hell he knew about this. It was not a secret that you were very particular about your hair, but it wasn’t something you talked about with Azriel, or Cassian or any of the males for that matter.

"Yeah, it’s today, right? I’m impressed really. If I remember well, it’s a pretty long process". He was smiling like a fool, somehow seeming proud of knowing this about you. Why would he be proud? This was so strange, you were starting to think you were dreaming up all of this.

"How do you even know about this ?"

"You’ve told me once. I’ve always wondered how your hair looked so nice and you spent almost thirty minutes explaining all of the steps and how long you had to wait in-between". Now you were sure he looked proud. And you were sure you still looked like a fish out of water. Your mind was so blank. "I haven’t done it actually", you blabbered.

"Well, I can help you if you want. I know you get cranky when you miss your routine".

He looked so eager, and he was right, you did get cranky when you missed something in your routine. It also wouldn’t hurt to feel him run his fingers through your hair, and massage your scalp. So he did, so gently, as if he was afraid to hurt you. It was so relaxing that you wanted to fall asleep to this every night. It took him a bit longer than you normally would, but he was thorough in his ministrations you could never tease him. You closed your eyes halfway, only opening them again when he nudged your shoulder with his, hazel eyes softly looking into yours through the mirror.

"There, all done.".

"Thank you so much, Az. You’re so precious"

He smiled, and it was so breathtaking you almost fell to yours knees before him. "You should go to bed now, you’re all ready", he added after a moment. You turned around, so close that your chests were almost brushing. So close that you could reach out your hand and touch his raven black hair with the tips of your fingers. So close that you could stand on the tip of your toes and kiss his lips. You nodded, remembering he had said something, and he took a step back, allowing you to step back into your bedroom. Right, your bed. He must have told you to sleep. This was what he was here for, after all.

You were about to fall in your bed, yes fall, when you heard the beautiful male behind you chuckle. "You’re going to suffer tomorrow, drink some tea for hungover before you arrive to training"

You sat on the bed, facing him and looked up to his handsome face. You were so busy studying his features that you almost forgot to answer him. "Just take it easy on me tomorrow and I’ll be fine, yes?"

Another deep laugh came out of him. He was so carefree tonight you felt blessed to be able to witness him like this. The mighty Spymaster of the Night Court, so casually laughing in your bedroom. "No, I will not, you and Nesta need to learn the hard way that you do not get drunk the night before training"

Your answering whine made him crack another smile, "But we train every morning, Az"

"I don’t see how that’s my problem". He had the audacity to look smug. The male was taking such pleasure in your misery it would have been insulting were it anyone else.

"I hate you" you said. You could not have uttered a bigger lie. There was nothing but pure adoration for him in your heart, but you could not tell him that. Would never find the courage. You could barely stand this half sort of flirting, let alone pour out your feelings to him while he cringes and lets down gently.

"We both know you love me" He was taking this too far right now, but he didn’t find it in himself to care. He knew nothing about your feelings, only hoped. Yes, sometimes he would catch you looking at him at training, or looking for him whenever you stepped in a room. He would sometimes hear his shadows say that you were staring at him, a longing look in your eyes, but he never let himself believe them. They liked you too much, always trying to be close to you. They were not objective at all.

You blushed, hoping this conversation would not go somewhere you couldn’t handle. You surely couldn’t handle this right now. So you kept this little verbal sparring you two had going on and said "you wish".

Az’s face dimmed a little, it was so subtle you could have imagined it. Probably had, honestly, with your inebriated state right now. You could swear, however, that you heard him agree. It was such a small murmur but you could’ve sworn you heard him say yes.

Azriel bid you goodnight, so sweetly and left you to sleep.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feysand #rhys and feyre

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pedrostylez · 9 months

Text

Something Else-Pt. 1

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: You're dragged out to a night at the bar by your friend Anna, remeeting her boyfriend and his friends. But this time, they've brought another friend that you're pretty sure they are trying to set you up with

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 3.9k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened but is not mentioned as of yet, eventual smut (not this chapter but it will build), fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Hi there! I'm very excited to be putting this story out there that I have been thinking about for a while but wasn't willing to write down until I had more of a plan and some organization. I am not at the point where I know how many parts it will be, BUT fun things are planned regardless. Let me know what you think :)

Anna is your prettiest friend. To be honest, you envied her, always pulling guys that you silently had your eye on, confidently going through life without a care in the world. She was talented that way and unintentionally attracted everyone around her to her realm. You wished you could be like her in some ways.

You loved her like a sibling and wanted nothing but to make her happy; except to maybe go to the bar with her tonight. “Please, honey? Santi is bringing a couple friends.” She whined, looking at you through the mirror as she was applying the last of her lip gloss. Her dress was tight-tighter than you had ever seen her in before, pink and ruched over her abdomen like she stepped right out of the 2000s. You had never really thought about wearing a dress like that.

You sighed heavily, adjusting the shirt that you had already put on for the occasion to cover your belly button. You were willing a couple hours ago, but as it got later you started to think it wasn’t worth it anymore. The way your bra dug into your side, the way your underwear was never really in the right place so that it didn’t show lines under your jeans made you want to take it all off-and seeing her dressed the way she was made you feel inadequate. “If we don’t leave in the next 10 minutes I’m bailing. I want to be in my pajamas and eating popcorn, not…standing around watching you make out with your boyfriend.”

Anna tried to hide her smile in the mirror, but you knew she was satisfied, standing up and fluffing her hair once more before grabbing her purse. She seemed to be on a mission you weren’t privy to yet, and quickly turned around to you. “Perfect, because we are leaving now.”

Holding back the eye roll was a job all on its own.

The prep in the back of the taxi made you more nervous. You had met Santiago before-referred to as Pope by his buddies Will and Benny. It had been at this same bar you were going to that you had first met Santiago, and had given him a strained smile before leaving and not seeing him again for months. It was not lost on you how many times Anna had suggested going out again, wanting to reminisce or some shit at this same place. It was always a hard pass.

Something about the bar you were heading to was going to make you dizzy. Maybe it was the way it used to be a dance hall, and the sweat of past people lingered in your nose, or maybe it was how it was too dark, even with the strobing lights. But being prepped for it in the back of the taxi made you want to hurl. “It will be Santi, Will, Benny and they are bringing Frankie,” Anna says nonchalantly, staring down at her phone and typing out a text message.

“Who’s Frankie?” You asked quietly, looking out the window as the taxi slowed down at the red light just before the bar. There was a line out the door and standing and waiting to go in made you want to get out now and start walking back.

“He has come the past couple of times, but he was on the same team as Santi.” Anna brushes off, looking down at her phone again before smiling like a giddy child-must be Santi on the other end.

The same team. Great.

It was nothing against Will and Benny, but they were…characters. All three of them, Santi, Will, and Benny together were overwhelming. Benny and Will were polite, kind and would speak to you while Santi and Anna were all over each other, but they had their sights on other people. Not that you wanted to be with them-the brothers were intimidating. Will had given you the most amount of attention for a couple of times you had been dragged along, but it wasn’t interesting to you. And that is what you assumed Frankie would be. Friend groups that were formed in the military and called themselves a team seemed like a disaster.

Stepping out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk was simple enough, especially when Anna squealed and started running toward Santi. His arms were open, smiling, and ready to catch her as she launched herself into his arms. Adjusting your shirt again to cover your stomach, plastering a smile onto your face, and greeting Will when he gives you a wave. His arm is quick to get around your shoulder and drag you forward, a one-sided hug squeezed into you. “You tagging along tonight?” He asks quietly, looking down at you.

“Yeah, figured I would try to be fun for once. But Anna only got me here after I threatened to stay home if she took too much longer.” You laugh out, looking up to Will and over to Benny. You see a baseball cap just behind him, who you assume to be Frankie.

“This is Frankie!” Anna screeches, scrambling out of Santiago’s grip to grab onto Frankie’s arm. She motions over to you and introduces you to him, smiling widely.

The men around you are silent, watching you and Frankie smile politely at each other. This suddenly feels…planned. “They drag you here too?” You ask quietly, watching a blush creep up his cheeks as he takes a hand out of his pocket and scratches the back of his neck.

You feel Will push you forward, letting go of your shoulder and nonchalantly pick up a conversation with Benny. Anna is still watching on, smiling and giddy and you just know this was her idea. “Uh, yeah. They said it was fun.” Frankie says just as quietly, clearing his throat and looking over at Anna puzzled.

Santiago swoops in, grabbing Anna around the waist and lifting her off her feet. “Let’s go, gang, the bouncer knows us.”

You look at Frankie knowingly, patting his arm and stepping in front of him to trail behind Anna. This seemed like it was going to be a longer night than you had originally intended, but at least you weren’t the quietest of the group. You miss the look that Will gives Frankie once you’ve stepped in front, and how Frankie pushes Will out of his way to trail behind you.

Frankie had not wanted to go out. Will had hit him up with a “wanna get laid tonight?” and Frankie had rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood to deal with Will’s antics.

But when Pope called him shortly after, said he was bringing his girl and one of her friends, that she wasn’t interested in Will or Benny but that Frankie would be perfect to get her to be less uptight…Frankie sighed and said sure.

This always seemed to happen. The boys would set him up with some girl that none of them liked so that they could pursue other options. Frankie didn’t mind-he rarely slept with them, and the girls were always beautiful. They were just never his type. Frankie was used to being the babysitter of the group.

Standing around and waiting outside the bar made him anxious for some reason. He had never been to this bar and was being coached by Benny on how you acted. “She’s tough. She gives no leeway. Will tried to swoop in with her twice now and both times she has just left. She buys her own drinks too, don’t even bother.”

It piqued Frankie’s interest that Will had gone after you and you had turned him down. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a babysitting scenario.

When you stepped out of the taxi completely calm, watching Anna beeline it for Santi, Frankie slid behind Benny. You were, in fact, gorgeous. And the way you smiled at Will didn’t convince Frankie that he was totally off limits. The way your hair slid over your shoulder as you looked up at Will; the small smile you graced him with made Frankie want to melt into a puddle. There was no way he would be able to carry a conversation with you.

And then you spoke to him so softly. “They drag you here too?” As if you didn’t dress for the part, or look like you were meant to be dancing in a club. And the way you touched his arm as you passed him had him frozen in place, eyeing Will with that knowing look. They set him up and he wasn’t sure he was mad about it anymore.

An hour had gone by and you were people watching from the bar. Will and Frankie were behind you as you spoke to Benny. “Don’t you think I can go home yet?” You whined, dizzy from the tequila shots that Will had supposedly bought for Anna, and forgot that she didn’t drink tequila. A rum and coke sat in your hand, swirling the ice and taking another sip. You were feeling warm, sweat on your hairline that made you wish you had brought a hair tie.

“Why would you go home now?” Will yelled in your ear, sweaty hand touching your shoulder to get you to turn around. You spun too quickly, feeling Will’s hand tighten around you for an instant to make sure you were okay, smiling at him as a silent thanks. You locked eyes with Frankie for a moment, his stare burning into your skin.

“You guys are boring.” You smiled sweetly, laughing when Will scoffed and bumped Frankie in the shoulder.

“Can you believe that? She says we’re boring.” He yells again.

You reach up to your ear and rub at your jaw, the sound of the bass hurting your inner ear. You glance over to the outside deck area that is relatively unoccupied and has an exit stair to the sidewalk below for quick escapes. It’s tempting to slowly make your way over there, maybe make a run for it and hail a cab before anyone notices. Anna wouldn’t be too mad-it’s not the first time you’ve just left after giving it an hour's chance? You glance back to where Will has removed himself, bopping into a circle of dancing girls, and see Frankie sliding up the bar to you. His arm is warm against yours, the smell of his cologne tickling at your nose. Citrus? He leans in to say something, but you can’t hear him.

You shake your head and tap at your ear again, crinkling up your face as a sorry. He pauses and looks to be debating something before grabbing your hand, motioning for the outside deck. His hand in yours feels rough but gentle, a quick squeeze to hold your attention. You nod, smiling at him for reading your mind.

You can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders are as you trail behind him, his hand still holding on to your hand to lead you to the deck. His shirt is tight across his arms, his small nod to excuse himself through the crowd before he turns around to check on you. When he opens the door for you to step out ahead of him, the sound immediately drops away into the sound of cars passing by. “Oh, thank god.”

“It’s too loud in there to have a conversation,” Frankie says with a small chuckle, shutting the door behind him and taking a sip of his beer. He stares at you for a moment, unsure what to say next.

“Easier to escape too.” You sigh, sitting on one of the stools and looking at him. It’s the first time you’ve been able to actually look at Frankie straight on. His shoulders are screaming to be out of his shirt, and his hair is curling at the edges of his cap sitting firmly on his head. It could be the alcohol currently in your system, but you want to reach out and touch one of them.

He takes a step over to the stool next to yours, bumping your arm gently before looking out onto the street below. “I tried asking in there if you had been to this bar before?” He sounds nervous, and you plaster on a smile to ease his tension.

You nodded along, sipping again on your rum and coke. “Yeah. Anna said you had come along the past couple of times?”

Frankie’s eyebrows furrow, looking over at you and then blushing. “I uh…I’ve not been here before, no.” He laughs, taking another sip of his drink. “This is the first time I’ve met Anna, actually.”

You tilt your head at him, curious about his answer. “You’ve never met her before?”

When he shakes his head no, your brain takes longer to catch up than usual. But looking back into the bar and seeing Will, Benny, and Anna all looking back at you, scrambling away from the window, tells you that it was all a ploy. “We were set up, it seems.” You mumble, slightly annoyed.

Of course, Anna was setting you up with a complete stranger. Sure, Frankie was cute but you didn’t know anything about him beyond his broad shoulders and his blush. Why did she assume you couldn’t take care of yourself? You turn back to him after sipping down the rest of your drink. “Sorry, they dragged you into this.”

Frankie’s laugh relaxes your annoyed expression, his eyes bright with humor. “Don’t worry about it.” He sighs and faces you again. “Benny was telling me that you’ve turned him and Will down twice.”

You scoff, finishing off your drink. “They haven’t asked!” You exclaim, smiling when he chuckles. “Both times I’ve met them they have walked off to talk to other girls.”

“Did you want them to talk to you? Will seems pretty interested.” Frankie amends, motioning to the window again where you can see Will grinding on some girl, Benny shaking his head at the bar at his brother in slight disgust. “Well…not when he’s doing that.”

You laugh, hiccupping at the end before facing Frankie and shaking your head. “Maybe I’m just tipsy, but he’s kinda boring.” You admit, shrugging. “And if they think they’ve tried and I’ve not noticed then I’m not sure it would work out anyways.”

Frankie hums, setting his beer down. “What makes you notice? When someone is trying, I mean.” He says quietly, his hand laying on the bartop between you, fingers outstretched casually in your direction.

You shrug, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s hard to pinpoint. I guess I have to want the attention too.” You admit. Curiosity gets the better of you and you look at him again. “What do you do to show you’re interested?”

Frankie doesn’t move, squinting his eyes slightly before tipping his head back and forth. “Depends. I’m not…not usually very loud about my intentions. Not dancing up on someone,” He motions to where Will is still grinding, now with another girl. “But I like having private conversations. Seeing what someone is like.”

Your eyes trail down Frankie’s neck as he’s talking, his neck muscles moving as he motions to the rest of the bar, the way he’s leaning. When he stops, you look back up to his eyes to see this quiet smirk gracing his face, as if he caught you checking him out. “What am I like?”

He smiles fully, teeth white under his plush lips before he shakes his head. “Well, you’re…something else. I haven’t figured you out yet.”

You hum, tapping your finger on the bartop before coming to the conclusion that you do want to leave, but want some company. “Would you want to walk me home to find out more?”

It’s like Frankie is frozen, unsure of what move to make. You’re suddenly worried that you shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have offered and you’re about to take it back when he says “Of course.”

Frankie is really nervous. Like, he’s not sure if he should have offered to walk you home-not because he doesn’t want to, but because he thinks he is going to make a right fool of himself on this walk, no matter how many shots you’ve had.

You’re swaying as you walk, bumping into him every once in a while and giggling when you do. He wants to wrap his arm around your shoulder like how Will did when he first greeted you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries. He mumbles out a “careful" with a chuckle after the third time, making you blush bright red. “It’s alright, cariño. Do you need my help?”

You nod at him and wrap your arm around his middle, leaning your head against his chest and allowing one of his arms to wrap around your shoulders. “This is embarrassing. I was fine at the bar.” You mumble out, your jean-covered leg rubbing against the side of his as you both take steps.

“It’s alright. You just direct me to where you want to go.” Frankie smiles, rubbing his hand up and down your exposed arm to bring some warmth to you. You feel good under his arm, wondering briefly how far away you live.

His phone in his pocket vibrates, and he pulls it out to see a text from Benny.

You dirty dog

Frankie rolls his eyes and shoves it back in, continuing on your trek down the sidewalk. “How far do you live from here?”

“Only a couple blocks, I swear.” You say quickly, snapping your head up to him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, is this too long of a walk?” You hiccup, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk with him.

Frankie can’t help but laugh, rubbing his hand up your arm again and giving you a squeeze. “No, it’s okay.”

You nod along, allowing him to get you moving again. The streets are familiar, and the cool air is helping you be less dizzy. When you finally arrive at your front stoop, you reach in your pocket for your keys that you swear were there. Frankie watches you with a critical eye, wondering what you’re fumbling for. “I…can’t find my keys.”

Frankie stands there while you continue to look, reaching into every pocket again and then searching through your purse. He hides his smirk when you shove your purse at him for him to dig through, coming up with nothing more than a pack of gum and a few extra pens you are carrying around. “What do you want to do then, cariño?”

The sight of you biting your lip has Frankie let out a big huff that you interpret as him being annoyed. “I’m so sorry, I uh…I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes are filling with tears quicker than he realized, his worry getting the better of him as he brings his hands to your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll text Pope to ask if Anna has your key.” Frankie says quietly, moving the hair that has fallen in your face out of your eyes and behind your ear, pulling you to him to support you. “It’s alright, don’t worry.”

You nod solemnly, laughing at yourself briefly. “I don’t typically act like this, I swear.” You sniffle, pulling away slightly and smiling. “I wanted to stay home tonight and watch a movie but Anna had insisted–”

“Don’t worry.” Frankie amends again, bringing his palm to your cheek and feeling how you lean into him. He’s taking a chance, but he wants to spend more time with you. “Do you want to go to my place and watch a movie? That way we don’t have to wait for Pope?”

Your eyes are glazed over as you stare at him, contemplating what he has said. “Yeah…okay. I think that’s okay.”

Frankie is just so nice. You had never really come across someone that was just so plainly a good person. Sure, you were sure Will, Benny, and Santiago would have offered for you to go to their place and crash on their couch too, but they had met you a few times.

Frankie just met you and is giving you an extra shirt and pair of sweatpants and has already told your friend where you are. He’s turned on his TV and set it up to automatically turn off after a few hours, and he’s sitting on the other end of the couch with his hat still on, his jeans changed for matching sweatpants and is intent on staring at the screen. He’s set a pillow and a fluffy blanket on the coffee table in front of you both, enticingly soft looking.

You were able to look at your phone and see that Anna had messaged you multiple emojis that held innuendos, but you’ve been unable to answer with a definitive of whether or not those emojis would even be accurate in the morning. You glance over to Frankie as he adjusts his leg, eyes locking with his briefly which makes him blush. “You uh…you’re very polite.”

Frankie lets out a quick chuckle at that. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nod, a smile barely raising before a yawn escapes and you lean farther back into Frankie’s couch. The leather is warm under your fingers, sagging with you as you lean back and enveloping you in its warmth. You close your eyes, feeling the alcohol still move through your bloodstream like it is on a mission to keep you drunk. You faintly hear the TV, not thinking much about it before nodding off fully.

You vaguely wake up when you feel calloused hands on your shoulder, mumbling incoherently. “Cariño? Do you need help?”

You think this is a strange question until you open your eyes, seeing Frankie in front of you without his baseball cap on, and a small smile. “What?”

Frankie brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumbs coming up to smooth your eyebrows over and over again in a soothing motion. “It’s clearly time for bed.” He chuckles out, eyes searching your face before looking back into your heavily lidded eyes. “Do I need to carry you?”

You don’t really understand what he means until he has lifted you over his shoulder, laughing when you grunt out in surprise. You’re being walked through his apartment, the hallway dark, and the TV light only showing bits and pieces of the living room. He sets you down gently on cool sheets, laying you back and pulling up the covers. “I thought I was sleeping on the couch.” You say quietly, looking up at Frankie again.

He pauses for only a moment before pulling the blankets higher, up to your chin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He scoffs, pushing the hair on your forehead away again before giving you a final smile. “The bathroom is just across the hall.”

Frankie shut off the lights on his way out the door and turned to see you had already shut your eyes again, mouth falling open as it had on his couch when he had turned to see your reaction to the joke on the screen and found you asleep.

He releases a sigh as he sits down on the couch again, reaching for his pillow and blanket that he set out and arranging himself to continue to watch what was mindlessly playing. He can’t stop thinking about how you leaned into him when he would touch your face, or how you began tearing up when you thought he would be upset with you.

His eyes begin to droop, wondering what made you think he would react differently, and hoping you would let him show you otherwise.

tagging @meveispunk because she wanted to know when this would be posted :) if anyone else wants to be part of the updates just shoot me a message!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #something else

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