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#and I hate that I don’t want to be that person
cherienymphe · 2 days
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You Get Me So High
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JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.
You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…
You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.
The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.
The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.
“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.
Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.
That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.
To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.
You knew better though.
“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.
Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.
“How so?” you quietly wondered.
You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.
Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.
The blond sighed.
“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”
“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”
“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”
“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.
JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.
“Don’t,” JJ finally said.
You swiveled your head towards him.
“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”
You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.
You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.
You didn’t tell anyone.
It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.
Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.
Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.
You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.
Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.
…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.
Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.
Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.
…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…
You kissed him.
You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…
JJ pretended like nothing had happened.
That was how it always went ever since.
Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.
You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.
So, you understood it.
What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.
Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.
“Are you crazy?”
That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.
He didn’t look happy.
“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”
You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.
“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.
His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.
“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”
You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?
JJ was a selfish asshole.
You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.
“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”
They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.
Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.
It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.
You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.
“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”
He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.
“I’m not here for that…”
“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”
“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”
“Y/N.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”
JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.
“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”
“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”
You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.
“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”
JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.
“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”
You glanced away, frowning.
“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”
“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”
“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”
He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.
“We can’t be anything.”
It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.
“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”
You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.
“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”
He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You got close to him, tone haughty.
“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”
You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.
“How is that fair?” you muttered.
He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.
You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.
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You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.
Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.
Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.
You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.
So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.
…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.
Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.
When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”
You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.
You hissed, struggling to speak.
“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”
You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.
Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.
Your other hand twisted into his hair.
He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.
You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.
Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.
That was how it always went.
Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.
You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.
“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”
Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.
You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.
When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.
“I know you,” a voice said after some time.
Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.
“You’re JJ’s sister.”
Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.
“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.
You found that you liked it.
“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.
“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”
You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”
His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.
You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.
All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.
Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.
Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.
…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?
You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.
“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”
His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.
“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.
He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.
“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”
His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”
You looked away, clearing your throat.
“…and I think you watch too much porn.”
When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.
“Maybe…”
You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.
You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.
Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.
…and JJ knew this.
Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.
You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.
“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.
You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.
There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.
When the door swung open, you were only startled.
It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.
It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.
Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.
Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.
So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.
Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.
The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.
She cursed.
“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”
Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.
Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.
Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.
The silence was loud.
“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”
Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.
“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?���
You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.
“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”
JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.
She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.
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JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.
John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.
You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.
“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.
“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”
Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.
“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”
You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.
“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”
Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.
“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.
“Well, try harder!”
Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.
“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”
You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.
“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”
JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.
“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”
You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.
“You were going to have sex with him?”
You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.
“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”
JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.
“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”
You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.
“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”
He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.
“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”
You shook your head at him.
“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”
“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”
His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.
“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”
He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.
“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”
You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.
“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”
“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”
JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.
“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”
JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.
If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.
“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”
He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.
“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”
Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.
“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”
His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.
He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.
Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.
With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.
You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.
“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”
Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.
“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”
Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.
The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.
“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”
Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.
Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.
“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.
You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.
“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.
As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.
“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.
When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.
“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.
There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.
“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”
568 notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 1 day
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lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals
note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.
important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)
type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.
pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem
warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw
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۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.
۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.
۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.
۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.
۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.
۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.
۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.
۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.
۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.
۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others
f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?
view comments…
user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok
user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit
user77: isn’t she friends with kika??
user25: yes!
user3: he doesn’t look happy….
user90: meh
user41: looks forced
user2: my mannnnn
user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.
۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.
۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.
۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?
۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.
۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.
۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.
۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.
۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:
lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.
magui: oh…ok?
lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?
magui: i’ll ask kika
magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry
lando: ???
magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful
lando: she is
*lando has blocked this number*
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others
landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️
view comments…
*only certain profiles can reply to this post*
y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss
landonorris: smack me??
y/n.user: you posted my TOES
oscarpiastri: double dates?
landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling
y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes
lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞
danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it
carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!
charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!
savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!
landonorris: i will, don’t fret
olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.
۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.
۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.
۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.
۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.
۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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reiding-writing · 2 days
Note
hi! could you write prompt 6 from the angsty dialogue prompts for the climacteric event? fem/gn reader whatever you prefer, i was thinking that reader finds out something about spencer and it results in this messy situation, but honestly how you want to do it is all up to you!
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JEALOUSY [CLIMACTERIC]
6. “Don’t touch me.”
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WARNINGS: spencer is a bit of a twat but apologises profusely afterwards, arguing, happy? ending
spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 2.5k || event masterlist!!
main masterlist!!
a/n: majority vote chose this one to come out first 🫶 they also chose for it to have a happy ending bc y’all are really boring /j (i love you guys you aren’t boring i swear 🫶)
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Spencer Reid grew up too fast.
He was remarkably smart for his age, that much was a given, but in terms of emotional development Spencer was forced to skip what should’ve been his childhood.
He didn’t get to experience what it felt like be praised over a rudimentary piece of ‘art’ by his parents, because he was ‘too intelligent’ for that.
He didn’t get to go out on a Saturday morning with his father to learn how to play a ball game because his dad was never around.
He didn’t get to be coddled by his mother when he cried because by the time he was nine he was her full time carer.
Ironically, his childhood was an era of time where he could barely remember a single detail, despite his renowned eidetic memory, and it only seemed to further prove that Spencer Reid’s childhood didn’t exist.
All he could remember was what didn’t happen. The key milestones of his life that he never got to live through.
To say that impacted his emotional availability was an understatement. Spencer had never been one to ask for help from other people, but in instances where he really felt like he was about to fall apart it was even worse. He’d grown up with the expectation that he was responsible for his own well being. That him and him alone was the only thing that could get him through whatever dark patch that he went through.
He didn’t need anyone else. He wasn’t allowed anyone else. It was just him, always.
You were decidedly the opposite. You wore your emotions on your sleeve, and for the most part, Spencer found it entirely refreshing to watch you be able to express yourself with no holds barred and no internal monologue telling you that what you were doing was wrong.
Sometimes he wished he could do the same.
There were times of his career where he wished you’d do something wrong, that you’d make a mistake or cross a boundary and it’d allow him to exert all of the anger and deep-seeded jealously he felt whenever he saw you be so open with yourself.
He knew it was horrible of him, and more often than not the minute those thoughts invaded his mind he thought of nothing more than how much of a terrible person he was. He was wishing ill on you just because you’d managed to have a healthy emotional output.
Because he was inherently broken from all the years of keeping everything to himself.
“Are you okay?”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of your voice, gaze turning upwards from the mug of coffee sitting on the kitchenette counter to meet your face, covered in worry lines as you furrow your own eyebrows.
He hated when you looked at him like that. Like he was something to be pitied.
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer presses his lips together in an awkward line of a smile, a staple of his character that seemed much less genuine than usual from your point of view.
“You’ve uh- You’ve been stood here staring at your mug for almost five minutes,” Spencer flickers his eyes up to the analogue clock on the wall at your declaration.
You were right, he’d been stood in a state of dissociation for almost a whole five minutes without realising it. Great, that’s just wonderful. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.
“Everything’s fine,” He gives you another one of those awkward smiles as he takes his mug in between both of his hands, the ceramic barely even warm anymore, which tells him that his coffee isn’t hot enough for him to actually enjoy it, but right now he’d take a cup of warm coffee over standing here talking to you about his ‘feelings’.
But you’ve never made things easy.
“It’s not though is it? Something’s wrong Spencer, everyone in the office can tell,” You sigh softly at the indignation on his face as you prod at what’s going on inside his head. “We’re worried about you…” You reach out your hand slowly to lay it on his arm, and he pulls away from you without a second thought.
“Please don’t touch me,” He takes a step to the side, clearly trying to bypass you and get back to his desk so he can escape the conversation. “I said I’m fine.”
“And you’re lying Spencer.” You step in the same direction that he does, effectively blocking his path out of the kitchenette. “We need to know what the issue is or we can’t help you Spencer,” Your voice is tinged with a small amount of desperation, and it irks Spencer in a way that he can’t even fully comprehend.
“You want to know what the issue is?” He puts his mug back down on the counter with enough force that small droplets of coffee spill over the rim and onto the granite underneath it. “It’s you.”
He leans forward slightly like he’s trying to emphasise his point. “You are the issue.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and all of a sudden you’re regretting caring so much.
God you’re beginning to regret even waking up this morning. Maybe that would’ve spared you from the stake in your heat that was Spencer Reid explicitly telling you that you were the sole reason why he was acting differently. Why he was being cold and distant from the team and their genuine want to just make sure he’s okay.
Because they couldn’t do that. Because you were a part of the team. And as long as you were there that coldness wouldn’t go away.
“Right…” You press your lips into a line. “Sorry for asking.”
Spencer regrets what he said almost as soon as the words come out of his mouth. He watches as that usual sparkle of compassion in your eyes literally fizzles out right in front of him, and all of a sudden he feels like an absolutely horrible person.
As you turn to leave he reaches out a hand to stop you. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, how could he possibly redeem himself after a comment like that? But his body runs on autopilot and all he knows is that he needs to apologise to you. “Wait—”
“Don’t— touch me Reid,” You pull your arms further into yourself to stop him from reaching out to them, and he swears his heart breaks at the sight of you being dismissive. And then there was the added blow of you using his surname to further distance yourself from him and making him want to cut out his tongue so saying something so rash with absolutely zero provocation. “I understood you the first time.”
It was a complete turn of your character, all semblance of warmth and vulnerability evaporated and replaced with a cold, hard shell that Spencer could see calcifying behind your eyes.
“I-“
“I’ll leave you be now.”
And with that you disappear around the corner, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. His terrible thoughts that rightfully pummel him into the ground for so much as suggesting that you could ever be a problem.
When you said you’d “Leave him be”, he didn’t think it meant you’d literally avoid him like the plague. God you’d even roped Emily into switching desks with you so you wouldn’t have to sit opposite him anymore.
How was he supposed to grovel for your forgiveness if you wouldn’t so much as spare him a glance?
How was he supposed to explain to the team that the reason the two of you suddenly weren’t talking to each other was because he’d fucked up so badly that he felt like he was going to implode?
And most importantly, how on earth was Spencer Reid supposed to make you listen to him so he could explain himself and try to reconcile with you?
He’d considered cornering you in the break room, or catching you in an elevator on your way to the parking lot, but he knew that would only make things worse.
He’d considered turning up to your apartment your favourite snacks and begging you to let him inside, but that would be weird and borderline stalkerish.
He was really running out of ideas, and the longer he went without saying something the deeper he felt he was being pulled into the pit of despair that he’d dug himself to the point where he wasn’t sure if he as going to be able to claw himself out of it.
He had to speak to you. And he had to make sure that you didn’t run away.
The opportunity practically handed itself to him during a case. He knew budget cuts would mean that the team paired up when staying at a NYC hotel, and after some under the table begging for the other team members to room with each other so you didn’t have any choice but to room with him, he took his chance.
There was a very obvious blanket of tension between the two of you as you entered the room together, your apparent vow of silence continuing as you dump your bag on one of the twin beds to claim it as your own before shutting yourself into the bathroom to ready yourself for sleep.
He could tell that you weren’t happy about the arrangement, and despite how much you were distancing yourself from him you still wore your emotions on your sleeve, and right now they were telling him that you would literally rather be anywhere else.
You skirt past him as you exit the bathroom in your pyjamas, leaving your clothes and your bag on one of the decorative chairs to climb into bed with the continued silent treatment you’re serving him.
Spencer sighs dejectedly as he watches you take a seat on the edge of the bed with your back to him. “Can we talk? Please?”
“What is there to talk about?” Your voice washes him like a cold shower, your vocal chords dipped in ice and your words a perfect combination of blunt and dismissive. He can’t see your expression as you speak, but has a pretty good idea of the furrowing of your eyebrows and the narrowing of your gaze.
“I want—” Spencer lets out another sigh, raking his fingers through his hair in internal frustration. “I need to apologise to you. What I said was horrible and I’m sorry,”
“I don’t forgive you.”
As much as the words cut through his heart like a knife, he can’t blame you.
“I understand… I just wanted you to know that I really regret what I said, and that it’s been tearing me up thinking about it,”
“Right…” You let out a short, sarcastic laugh that causes Spencer’s eyebrows to furrow. “Because it’s all about you right?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Goodnight Reid.” You punctuate your sentence by shutting of the lamp on your side of the room, officially putting an end to your side of the ‘conversation’.
Spencer wasn’t done with it quite yet.
“I’m jealous of you. That’s why I said that ‘you were an issue’. You’re not. I am the issue and I was projecting it on to you. That was unfair of me and I need you to understand that I am apologising to do right by you, not to make myself feel better.”
“You have no reason to be jealous of me Reid,” You still haven’t turned to face him, but he’d rather be talking to your back than not be talking to you at all.
“Please stop calling me that..” Spencer lets out a small breath at the end of his sentence, words tinged with a small amount of desperation. He didn’t want to be ‘Reid’ in your mind, he wanted to be Spencer. “I have a lot to be jealous of when it comes to you,” Admitting his faults outright made him feel nauseous, but he needed to break this brick wall you’d built around yourself when it came to him.
He couldn’t stand being an outsider in your life.
“I mean, you’re sweet, kind, you have an inherent knack for social situations that I could only dream of possessing,” He takes a small break in his sentence to nervously chew on the inside of his lip. “and your emotional vulnerability makes me so jealous of you that I want to just—” He exhales sharply.
“It’s very easy to be jealous of you,”
There’s a small pause after Spencer’s confession, tension lingering in the air as he watches you aimlessly fiddle with the edge of the sheets whilst you debate how to respond.
“Those are stupid things to be jealous of,”
Spencer physically deflates at your answer. “They’re not, people like you are envied because you’re so open with yourself, that’s something not a lot of people have, myself included,” Spencer takes a small step forward, cautious about scaring you off if he approached too quickly. “even if I wish I did..”
He places a deft hand on your shoulder and you jolt at the contact.
“I’m really sorry.” His voice drops to a point where it’s almost inaudible, and you swear you can hear his voice catch as he tries to maintain his composure. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore… please,”
You let out a small sigh of indignation, and Spencer knows he’s won you over. “Fine,”
“Thank you,” He gives your shoulder a small squeeze, and you return it with one of your own as you rest your hand on top of his.
“I’m still angry with you,”
“I know…”
“You’ve got a hell of a job making up for it,”
“I know,”
“Good,” You finally turn to look over your shoulder at him, and Spencer is glad to see that your expression isn’t one of loathing or frustration. “Get some sleep Spencer,”
“Okay…” He gives you a soft nod and a half-awkward smile, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue one that fills him with more contentment than it probably should. “Goodnight…” He hesitantly pulls his hand from your shoulder to walk back to his own hotel bed, walking as you tuck yourself into yours.
“Goodnight Spencer, we’ll talk about this in the morning,”
“Yeah… Thank you…”
Spencer flicks off the lamp beside him, relaxing as the room is shrouded into darkness and allowing himself to get the first proper night of rest he had in weeks now that he’s finally made his peace with you.
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ghost-proofbaby · 3 days
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
"THE FIRST DATE"
EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"
→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.
enjoy the main story's masterlist here
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EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?
YOU: boring.
YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???
EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart. 
YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME 
God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment. 
You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week. 
EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.
YOU: i NEVER said that.
EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines. 
Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other. 
Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal. 
YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past. 
EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past! 
YOU: you most certainly have NOT
EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.
And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile. 
YOU: i hate you 
EDDIE: No, you don’t
YOU: i do. i really do. 
EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar
You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer. 
“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?” 
“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms. 
You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead. 
“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in. 
“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.” 
Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.” 
“I am not cranky-”
“You are!” 
“Am not!” 
“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place. 
Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.
“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.
“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back. 
“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.” 
You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider. 
Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream. 
“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence. 
“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?” 
Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?” 
Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.
“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.” 
It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other. 
“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week. 
Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues. 
“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.” 
“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”
Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line. 
Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously. 
“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”
He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends. 
“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?” 
“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.
You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?” 
Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.
But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications. 
EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius. 
EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night? 
Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.
And you did. To some extent, you really did.
But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.
Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.
Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?
Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.
YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?
EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)
YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.
Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.
EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.
That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest. 
You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now. 
There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.
You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.
He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. 
You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.
This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come. 
“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING. 
Oh.
Oh.
If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him. 
Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable? 
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.
Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen. 
The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you. 
He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.
You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” 
You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.
You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.
“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 
“I could say the same about you.” 
You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.” 
“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“
He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”
“Every time?” 
“It’s for safety.” 
“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?” 
“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.” 
You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.” 
He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of. 
You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized. 
“We can go helmet shopping another day.” 
We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.
“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you. 
Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that. 
You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy. 
Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street. 
When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again. 
“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?” 
He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.” 
“You say that to every girl you bring here?” 
You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.  
“Only the prettiest ones.” 
You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.
But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week. 
He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you. 
But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him. 
 The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you. 
“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy. 
You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his. 
“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver. 
It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.
The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race. 
You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.
“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” 
No, I can’t. Your fault, really.
“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands. 
His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch. 
“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.
A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide. 
And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away. 
“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.” 
You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.” 
Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. 
The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.
He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.
“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.
Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me? 
The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.” 
“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?” 
The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows. 
“Does it really matter?” 
You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.
You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking. 
“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him. 
I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on. 
His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse. 
Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.
He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light. 
“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.
“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”
“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.” 
He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away. 
He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.” 
“You’re cheating!”
“I’m not!”
“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?” 
Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?” 
“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.” 
“Like you have been?” 
“Burn in Hell.” 
Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill. 
Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish. 
At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen. 
“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of. 
Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.” 
More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends? 
Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends? 
The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter 
No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that. 
Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again. 
“Th-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.” 
His knuckles dig further into his mouth.
“I meant to do that.” 
His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.
“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.” 
He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist. 
You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly. 
Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.” 
“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce. 
“I did.”
“I believe you.” 
“I-”
It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much. 
Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much. 
Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice. 
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.” 
Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play. 
You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead. 
He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song. 
It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember. 
It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot. 
“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.
“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you. 
“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?” 
“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.” 
Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?” 
“Maybe.” 
The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer. 
You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him. 
Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.
Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly. 
All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care. 
When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him. 
You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up. 
But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter. 
“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.
You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.” 
He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter. 
This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others. 
The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet. 
Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply. 
You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were. 
His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer. 
“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.” 
“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.” 
“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”
“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.” 
There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time. 
Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile. 
With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind. 
All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing. 
It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect. 
“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.” 
“I have an answer.” 
“You sound very sure there, big guy.” 
“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?” 
Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.
Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though. 
“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”
“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness. 
“Yeah. Dating.” 
The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye. 
“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”
“But we’re dating.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating. 
He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him. 
Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it. 
“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.” 
His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.” 
Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed. 
“Get used to it, Munson.”
“I plan to, Sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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cupids-chamber · 1 day
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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .
— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡
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The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 
He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 
Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 
Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”
Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 
“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.
Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 
"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 
"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 
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Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter
♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?
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— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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Hazbin Hotel Characters React to You Asking for a Hug (PART 2)
Buckle in bitches, its time for some COMFORT
Lucifer
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Guys he’s SO nervous
“Oh really? You, uh, you want a hug from me? Are you sure?”
Nervous laughter 100
Takes a hot minute for him to adjust, but DOES give good hugs
WING HUGS. Y’ALL KNOW HOW I GET ABOUT WING HUGS.
Y’all gotta remember he’s a dad
So good, firm dad hug
His hands are clammy af, but don’t mention that pls
Gives you the opportunity to talk out whatever’s going through your head
Actually has really insightful advice
Like his daughter, honestly so honoured you chose to come to him
Lute
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“Must I?”
Begrudging as FUCK
But she’ll do it
If she has to
Stiff, awkward hugs that last for 5 seconds tops
No wing hugs :(
“Human souls are weird”
Tries to teach you how to fight so you can use sparring as a “normal” coping mechanism
Adam
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As much as I hate him, would give BANGIN hugs
“Fuck, you wan’ a hug? Fuck yeah bitch, get over here!”
Super enthusiastic about it????
Like, gives you shit, but its still one of the tightest and most excited hugs you’ve ever received
Very very warm
You will probably overheat if you stay there too long
WING HUGS!!!!!!!
Will be extra touchy with you from here on out
Arm around the shoulder, etc
Carmilla
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Is she mom, or mommy? Jury’s still out on that one.
Will never ever refuse you if you need a hug
Will, however, try to pull you aside and make it a private moment
Not a big fan on PDA, but your wellbeing takes priority
Makes you rest your head against her chest, no matter how tall you are
If you tell her what’s going on, will fix it
You don’t even need to ask.
She’s gonna check up on you after at LEAST twice
Rosie
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Is she mom or mommy part 2: electric boogaloo
Drops EVERYTHING
Ushers you into a sunroom and brews you a pot of tea to share
And grabs snacks, of course
Definitely forgets if cannibalism makes you queasy
Holds you hand from across the table and encourages you to talk it out with her
A lil bit pushy about it, but its from a place of love
But if you need it, will definitely hug you
Another one with bone shattering hugs
Her hands are cold af tho, so beware
Vox
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Tbh doesn’t hear you the first time, he’s super focused on whatever else he’s doing
Once he hears you/it registers to him, he’s pretty confused
“Why do you need a hug?”
Only hugs you if y’all are really close
Generally not a touchy person
He won’t stop whatever he’s doing though
Most likely will just sit you in his lap, so he can cuddle And work
Multitasking, bitch
Don’t do it while he’s actively broadcasting though
Super against PDA (bc he’s embarrassed) and will probably snap at you if you break this boundary
Velvette
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“Wot. Why?”
Also confused
Like Vox, usually to busy to properly hug you
But will let you stick around and lay all over her while she works
Anyone who questions it dies Very quickly, and Very grotesquely
Very protective
“Babes, do I need to hurt someone? Coz you Know I’ll do it”
Probs takes selfies of you hanging off of her bc she thinks its cute
Will dress you up to try and make you feel better
Valentino
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Seek psychological help 💕
I know he’s got a sexy voice, but you know I’m right
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atlabeth · 3 days
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wake up, sunshine
knight!luke masterlist
based on this ask
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
summary: you and luke repair some things at your kingdom's annual flower festival.
a/n: have some fluff after i destroyed their relationship in the last fic! also this is based off of the scene from rapunzel because how could it not be <3 title from the all time low song bc it is soooo them "somebody loves you for yourself" <3 they're everything
wc: 2.5k
warning(s): once again luke is kinda angsty but this is much fluffier than usual! princess is nice again, they have a couple sweet moments <3
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we’ve been focusing on a lot of rough times between luke and the princess but things aren’t all bad for them!! even though she’s trying to ignore him and being forced to court a prince she isn’t interested in at all and war is imminent, war has not struck YET 
which means that things are still pretty great lol. and things are going to get a little better 
Aurelda’s flower festival always happens at the peak of spring, when all of the flowers (especially the ones only found in your kingdom) bloom, and it is full of revelry and merriment 
You’ve gone every year since you were old enough to walk, and though things have been a bit bleak for you, you’re actually excited about it! that boring prince has gone back home so you don’t have to spend the entire festival entertaining him. 
For the first time in a while, you actually get to focus on yourself and having fun. and you plan to do just that 
Of course, things are still weird between you and Luke — you know it’s your own fault, and you know that’s how it has to be, but you still hate it — but you can’t stop thinking about his words from that night as your lady’s maid helps you get ready for the festival. 
You may not care about what you want, but I do. And my loyalty is to you, princess. Not to your parents. And certainly no prince. 
Your heart twists painfully but you hide any emotion. The last thing you need is your maids spreading rumors. They already gossip about how close you and Luke are. You don’t need any star-crossed lovers narratives going on when your friendship is being put through the wringer of your own accord. 
You’re wearing a more casual outfit than usual—though your parents usually want you adorned in gowns and over the top dresses, you insisted on a simpler dress that cut off around your ankles for the ease of movement. It has plenty of embroidered flowers, of course. 
You planned to participate in every festival activity, no matter what your parents said. You deserved to have some fun after being so serious for the past month. 
You’re stuck in meetings the entire day before the festival, so you’re brimming with unspent energy the second you step out of the palace. Your leg bounces up and down the entire carriage ride, and you talk at (not to) your parents the whole time. 
You’re excited, okay? And you deserve to be. things have been rough lately, and with the prince’s presence, woefully boring. You can’t wait to get back in the middle of your kingdom and see your people. You love your subjects, and you always love when you get to meet and talk to them in person. 
Luke, on the other hand, is slightly stressed. 
As this is his inaugural year as your knight, it is a season of firsts for him, and every first comes with unhealthy amounts of stress. 
His first ball with you, his first time in another kingdom with you, his first festival with you, his first time being at odds with you. 
Luke honestly doesn’t know how you feel about him right now. You’ve put an impressive amount of distance between you and him, and you rarely talk to him outside of necessity, but he sees your lingering glances in his direction. He notices when you don’t rebuke his attempts at friendly conversation.
Luke meant every word that he said. He knows you, and he knows you don’t want this—you at least don’t want to leave him in the dark like this. So he isn’t going to let you go that easily. 
Your avoidance of him may be a good thing, though, because at least it means you don’t see his reaction when you leave your room wearing your festival dress. 
Luke has always thought of you as the most beautiful girl he knows, and that hasn’t changed with time. 
You always stun in your ballgowns and any Aureldan finery, but there’s just something about you wearing such a simplistic dress, heightened by embroidered flowers, that makes him weak in the knees. 
Maybe it’s because Luke has imagined a life away from all of this so many times. You’re not a princess, and he’s not a knight, but you’re devoted to each other the same—you just don’t have any royal strings attached. 
Apart from being a knight, Luke has never really cared where his future took him, as long as it was with you. He knows he would give up all of this and more if it meant he could share a simple life with you. 
Thankfully, he’s composed himself by the time you look at him, though he can’t push away all the lingering thoughts. 
“Are you attending the festival today, Sir Castellan?” you ask.
He hates it when you call him that, but he nods. “Of course. You’re going out into the kingdom—you need security.”
“It is a festival,” you drawl. “Nothing will happen.”
“It is still necessary,” he says. “You can think of me as your knightly escort.”
That actually gets a bit of a laugh out of you, and he suppresses a smile. “My escort. How improper of you.”
“Today is meant to be a day of festivities,” Luke says. “Impropriety may be allowed just this once.” 
Your smile remains as you start to walk together, and Luke knows he could live off of its warmth alone. 
And when you finally reach your destination, your smile gets even bigger.
It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten to be in the midst of your kingdom, surrounded by all your people. This is the part of your position that you love—you just wish your parents trusted you with it more. 
Your parents are busy with their image—they’re speaking later today, you’re sure, and right now they’re discussing things with some kind of village leader—which gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away. 
Luke is right behind you, of course, but it’s always been hard to keep up with you. You’ve grown very skilled at weaving your way through crowds, but thankfully Luke has grown very skilled at keeping an eye on you. 
By the time he catches up to you, though, it’s too late. 
“Princess—” Luke calls in protest, but you’re already off to greet a group of children calling your name. 
You know exactly how to stress him out, running off like that without him immediately behind you, but he can’t find any anger inside of him.
Luke hasn’t forgotten your words. He doesn’t know how he could. 
But in this moment, it’s so easy to see why he can’t just do his duty and let you go. 
The way you crouch down to be on their level, how you listen so intently to everything they say, your dazzling smile. 
Yes, one could say it’s your duty to be kind to your people, but for many royals, that’s not true. You’ve always cared about the people of Aurelda, ever since you were young—that may have been one of the few things that hasn’t changed as you’ve grown. Luke has always admired that about you. 
In this moment, you’re not the crown princess. You’re just you. And it’s hard for anyone not to love you. 
…It’s hard for him not to love you. 
yeah. 
this is the moment that luke realizes he loves you. like loves you loves you. 
And it doesn’t come as much of a shock to him. Luke has always loved you, one way or another. He’s just now understanding the kind of love he holds for you now. 
wants to spend the rest of his life with you, would throw himself onto a sword for you, would do absolutely anything for you type loves you. 
If anything, it brings some form of relief. 
He loves you. You don’t love him, and you’re going to marry a prince someday. Maybe within the year. 
It’s as simple as that. 
except it isn’t, obviously 
because you love him too!! you just don’t know it yet!! and you don’t really want to marry the prince your parents are pushing at you, you just don’t see any other way. 
But it’s not like Luke knows that. he may be the youngest person to ever become part of the kingsguard but he is ~ insecure ~ and he cannot imagine anyone liking him like that, especially you!!! 
Luke comes back into himself when you bound back over to him, and he notices the flower crown balancing precariously on your head. 
You have the biggest grin on your face, and though the gowns you wear at balls and fancier events are great, you’re nothing less than stunning in your simple dress. You’re slightly out of breath and your skin is luminescent with the glow of exertion. He can’t help but smile.  
Have you always been this beautiful? He’s pretty sure you have, but he doesn’t know how he didn’t realize it sooner. 
Luke has loved you for a while, he thinks. Maybe he always has—maybe that’s what the warm feeling he gets in his chest when he looks at you is. Maybe that’s what made his heart clench every time a prince danced with you at that ball. 
Maybe his love for you has always been what’s pushed him forward. 
“Luke,” you said, and once again, you snapped him out of his thoughts. You were absolutely beaming at him, and you wore a flower crown on your head. “Are you there?” 
Luke, he realized. Not Sir Castellan, for what felt like the first time in weeks. 
“I’m always here,” he said. “I’ve got superior training, princess.” 
“Of course,” you said with mock austerity, nodding sagely. “I could never forget.” 
You held up another flower crown, one similar to yours, and your smile grew. “The kids made another one, too. They said it was for my grumpy looking knight.” 
Luke scoffed, but there was no edge to it. “I’m not grumpy. Merely cautious.” 
“Oh, yes,” you said dryly. “I’m sure those kids had devious plans, Luke.” 
That got the slightest of smiles out of him, and it spurned warmth in your chest. “It’s my—” 
“It’s your job to watch me,” you finished. “I know. Just teasing you.” 
“And I welcome it,” he said. “It’s nice to see you like this, princess.” 
“Talking to my people and actually making a difference?” you guessed. 
“Happy,” he corrected. 
“Yes, well…” you trailed off, glancing away for a moment as you shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” 
“And for once, you don’t look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Luke’s eyes drifted to the flower crown sitting on your head, and his smile grew. “It suits you.” 
“Carelessness or flower crowns?” you asked wryly. 
“Flower crowns.” Luke crossed his arms. “You’re far from careless, princess.”
You rolled your eyes 
“You’ve got to stop talking down on yourself like that,” he said. “Like nothing you say or do matters. Because it does. It may not feel like it, but you’re doing valuable work.” 
“Oh, yes,” you said breezily. “I’m sure sitting in meetings that don’t matter and looking pretty as I stand in the background during my father’s speeches is valuable work.” 
“That’s not what I mean.” Luke gestured at the crowd of people around, specifically pointing at the group of kids that you’d entertained. “You fight for them every day, even if you don’t realize it. You care about these people, princess, which is already more than half of the people in that castle do for them. Why else would they adore you?” 
You bit your lip and glanced away. It was hard to take Luke’s words to heart when you truly felt like you were doing nothing—when it felt like the only thing you could possibly be good for was a marriage. 
But you did argue with your parents near every chance you got on matters of support and aid for your people. It was the least you could do, especially when you knew you would never really have to deal with consequences. 
(There was a reason most of your father’s advisors had to suppress groans every time you would sit in on a meeting. You took pride in your ability to annoy.) 
“Let’s call a truce, okay?”
You frowned. Now it was Luke bringing you out of your thoughts. “A truce?”
“I don’t want you to keep avoiding me, and I don’t think you’re really enjoying it either.” Luke met your gaze. “We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, princess. Don’t let boring princes come between that.”
You glanced away. “Luke…” 
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know your duty, and I know mine. But seeing you today, so carefree and happy—it’s worth more than a million gold pieces to me.” 
You’d been dancing around this topic since the night you pushed him away. It just hurt too much to talk about, and you felt like you didn’t have a right to be hurt—not when you were the one that did it. 
You loved Luke—he’d been your best friend for as long as you could remember. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t hate the time you’ve been spending apart. 
“We’re both getting older, I know. And we both have responsibilities we’re going to take on. God, someday, you’re going to be queen.” Luke huffed a laugh, though his eyes never wavered from you. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t get through it together. Just like we’ve gotten through everything else together.” 
Luke held out his hand. “So? Truce?” 
You stared at his hand for a moment, unable to meet his eyes. You knew exactly what you wanted to say but you felt like you couldn’t. 
Because dammit, your days felt so dull. You always wanted to talk about your day and how boring your lessons were or the bullshit your father’s advisors have been discussing in meetings, and Luke was always the person you wanted to talk to about it all. He always has been. 
And you pushed him away. 
Before you could doubt yourself, you ignored his hand entirely and pulled him into a tight hug. Luke wrapped his arms around you immediately, holding you close. 
“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” you whispered. God, how you’d missed his embrace—you never felt safer than when you were in his arms. “And I’m sorry for being so stupid.” 
“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he murmured. “And you’re certainly not stupid. Don’t even think that way.” 
You let out a breathy laugh as you pulled away, smiling softly at Luke. “I’m stupid to ever think I could really stay away from you.” 
and for the rest of the festival, you and luke are practically inseparable<3 not just because he’s your guard but because you’re best friends. 
You’re not going to let anything change that going forward. any prince that wants to marry you is just going to have to deal with that. 
(you even get him to wear that flower crown.)
(and though he tries to hide it, he kind of loves it.) 
(mostly because he loves you<3) 
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sunnitheapollokid · 2 days
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🍦┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。MINT CHOCO KISSES!
percy jackson x fem!reader short blurb <3
📬 sunni’s notes : i haven’t done a percy short yet so i might as well for our favorite boyfriend material boy!! just something cute for the percy girlies!! fun fact : i’ve only had mint chocolate once! and it’s actually not too bad!! (i don’t even remember the taste anymore…) BUT ANYWAYYYY i personally am a birthday cake batter or cotton candy fan because i’m a real borderline diabetic (jk) <3 HAPPY READING BEBIS, sunkisses!!! >3<
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percy was the best boyfriend (name) could’ve ever asked for. mostly. there was one time he tossed her in the pool during a day off, even after telling him she just washed her hair that day. but the lovebirds look back on the memory as a funny story.
but there we’re also much more serious scenarios on where you’d doubt your relationship.
— the mint chocolate ice cream arguement.
“you don’t understand baby, it’s a superior ice cream flavor!!" percy yelled back as he placed his hands around the waist of his dear 'ol girlfriend. both him and her we're celebrating their first anniversary at the beach not too far from manhattan.
a laugh falling from her lips like honey, percy licked the green ice cream covered spoon delightfully. "hon, it tastes like toothpaste." she scrunched her nose at the just the sight of the ice cream flavor. "oh come on (name), just give it a shot." percy waved the spoon in her face. she lightly shoved it away.
"it's going to take me more than a wave of a spoon than to get me to eat that." she hissed, as if the flavor we're poison. percy rolled his eyes, continuing to enjoy the ice cream. the beach was incredibly nice too, the waves crashed as the smell of salt air (name) inhaled, acting as if being hugged gracefully.
percy leaned in to press their lips together, but was quickly met with the sand on his face. "(name)!" he exclaimed, wiping the sand off his sticky face. she laughed, now sitting inches farther away from him.
"there is no way in olmypus you are giving me a kiss after eating mint choco!!" she yelled back with her hands covering her face as she laughed. "uh, yes way in olympus!" he picked up his feet and started chasing after the girl across the beach. the sand wasn't a great surface to run in, but percy, being the son of poseidon, was speedy, even with his feet in the sand.
sadly, to his girlfriend, she kept tripping over her feet, nearly face-slamming onto the sand. their laughs almost like harmony, percy was able to caught up to her, running beside her, "hey. come around here often?" he shot playfully before tackling her to the ground and peppering her with kisses.
"percy!! no!" she said in-between heavy laughs, trying to pull out of his embrace. she could smell the blend of mint and chocolate in his breath, but right now, she truly didn't mind it. percy continued, finishing off with an audible "mwuah!" for his final kiss on her cheek.
she groaned, covering her face with her hands and mentally wanting to melt at the moment. "still hate mint chocolate babe?" she could hear the ebony-haired boy's smirk in his tone.
"shut up."
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rashoumon-homo · 2 days
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BSD Men - Would they be good at giving head?
BSD x Gender Neutral Reader, NSFW
Includes: Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Chuuya, Sigma, Nikolai, Atsushi, Fyodor, and Akutagawa
Author’s Note: Just a quick lil headcanons post to fill the void of content while I work on Bottom Dazai Week! A little low-effort compared to what I usually post, hope that’s alright :)
NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
(Ranked roughly from best to worst)
Dazai
Holy FUCK bro, YES.
He’s good at it and he knows it
He moans into it like he’s the one getting off
He’ll have you coming on his tongue in less than 2 minutes
And he swallows too- gladly! He insists you taste amazing
Knows his anatomy too - all the spots to lick and suck to get your toes curling
Kunikida
Way more skilled than expected
This man literally sat down and studied before even his first attempt
Knows your anatomy better than a doctor atp
You had to remind him to relax at first because even though he was doing everything right, he was as mechanical as a robot
As he got more comfortable with it, you both had more fun
Prefers other types of sex but will gladly give you head if you ask
Ranpo
Absolutely - if he feels like it
You know how he is, picky with taste and texture of things he puts in his mouth and whatnot
But if he’s into it, he’s hella skilled
Definitely won’t swallow, but he’ll give you head for longggg periods of time, making you cum over and over
He’s just having fun with the tactile experience and with seeing you come undone under his touch. Boosts his ego a little lol
Chuuya
Oh yeah for sure
He gives head to tease though, not to get you to finish
Always looking up at you from under his lashes because he knows it gets you flustered
For some reason gives better head when he’s drunk
But he usually stops before you can cum because for him, oral is ideally just foreplay
Points docked for that :(
Sigma
Yes and no
He’s more inexperienced, so the first few times are a little clumsy
But he’s determined to learn how to please you
With practice and guidance from you, he’ll come to be really good at it! You just have to get through the awkward phase first
Nikolai
Duh
Y’all already know he’s a freak
He’s got plenty of skill and enthusiasm but he gets bored quickly
If it’s taking too long to get you to cum, he will flat out give up
He’s always coming up with new ways to do it as well (don’t ask what that means) so hopefully you’re willing to put up with his weird-ass, occasionally morally concerning ideas
Atsushi
Not perfect initially but eager to learn
Inexperienced and over enthusiastic (too much teeth 😬)
Wants so badly to please you
Probably needs some guidance at first
Fyodor
Good luck convincing him…
He sees giving head as a sign of submission so he’ll likely flat out refuse for a very very long time
If you can sway him, he’s about average in skill
Not much experience, since he hates doing it, but he picks up the skill quickly
Surprisingly gentle and cautious with his mouth (whether for your sake or his is unclear)
Do not cum in his mouth. He will pointedly spit it out because he’s grossed out and will likely sulk about it after
Akutagawa
This guy does not enjoy giving head and it shows
He’ll do it on rare occasions but his discomfort is palpable and kind of makes it not fun
If you finish in his mouth, he’s spitting that shit out. No offense to you personally, he just finds the idea of swallowing gross in general
Stick to other types of sex I beg of you
Tag List: @suru1990 @little-miss-chaoss
If you want to join the tag list, send me a dm!
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amourane · 3 days
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cry for me
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pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
genre: smut, pwp, enemies but their fwbs??
w/c: 0.8k
summary: you hated theodore nott but why now are you on your knees for him?
warnings: explicit sexual content, degradation, name calling, dacryphilia
a/n: i love theo sm and i'm currently writing an e2l fic with him so this is just me testing the waters! <3
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If you were given the chance to either eat worms for the rest of your life or stay in a room with Theodore Nott, you’d choose to eat worms. There was a tiny part of you that knows that you shouldn’t be mean, afterall you’re known for being the sweetest person at Hogwarts, always willing to lend a helping hand to those who needed it.
Theo was just...cold. You didn’t think you’d ever seen the guy crack a smile, only smirks and devilish grins that can never mean something good. He was always lurking in the corners sometimes you wouldn’t even notice he’s there until he says something.
Hate was a strong word and you didn’t like to use it often. But you had grown up with Theo and it was always a constant apocalypse between the two of you. He had once given you a wilted flower on your birthday stating that it was to remind you that everything dies one day, including you. How could one person be so...morbid? It was safe to say that you really really disliked him.
So why were you here, on your knees, a moaning whimpering mess? Well maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.
"Look at sweet little Y/n.” He cooed, grabbing your chin to look up at him, your eyes half shut as you pleaded for more. They were watering and your lips were flushed and glistening. “Who would’ve thought you were such a cock hungry slut. Suck."
At his command, you opened your mouth, tongue licking his tip. Your hands came up to palm his huge cock, whimpering at the girth between your fingers. Everything about Theo screamed seductive and, though you hate to admit it, you did find him irresistible. As he whispered more dirty words you found your panties soaking and he stuffed your face full of him and only him.
Your nose brushed his pelvis as you took him deeper, swallowing as you did. His cock filled your wet cavern, sliding into your mouth repeatedly. Your tongue swiped over the tip again, moaning around his length. The lewd sounds that filled your ears made your body purr in delight as your eyes fluttered shut. Theo threw his head back, his dark hair like a halo around him.
"Fuck-" He cursed, threading his fingers into your hair, pounding his cock into your mouth and you gagged, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. "Such a fucking slut f’me, you like being my cum dump don't you? Like being used like the filthy whore you are whenever you're needed. Don’t worry I’ll make sure that nasty mouth is full of my cum angel."
The vulgar words he spat out always made your mind spin in a hazy world of lust. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down, taking him as deep as you can. When he delivered a harsh thrust into your mouth, you found your body trembling from the force, your legs felt like jelly.
Your fingers slowly trailed towards your thighs, trying to discreetly open them but the Slytherin caught you. 
“Aww.” He mocked a wicked smirk spread across his face. “Does the cock whore want to touch herself? Are you that desperate of a slut, wait I already know the answer, of course you fucking are.” 
You felt his hands dig into the roots of your hair, tugging roughly and you felt the pain sing through your body. You felt your tears roll down your face, big fat drops as you cried from both pain and pleasure.
“Now you’re gonna be a good fucking girl f’me and keep your hands off what’s mine.”
His mean glare told you enough and without protest, you removed your fingers, placing both your hands on his thighs as you continued to suck, not wanting another punishment. 
The filthy words that spilled out of his mouth never stopped and you felt yourself growing wetter as he called you more names. As the pulsing of your pussy grew you couldn’t help but grow impatient at the stickiness between your thighs. His cock throbbed in your mouth and you knew he’s close. You suck him harder, continuing your little ministrations that you knew made Theo go crazy.
“Shit Y/n.” 
He moaned, feeling the tightness of your throat. A string of curses left his pink lips when he came and it filled your mouth, warmness spreading over your tastebuds and you swallow. His breath hitched when you gave him one last suck before opening your mouth. 
“Who knew the way to shut you up was to fill your slutty mouth with cum.”
When you release your cock, you rub your thighs together, nibbling your bottom lip. “C-Can I get fucked now?” Your voice is raspy and it came out croaky, something Theo adored. He smirked, bringing your face closer to his.
“You sure can, principessa.”
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i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night - part 3
katie McCabe x teen!McCabe
(young sister)
pt1, pt2
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Trigger warnings: lots of talk on sexual assault, minor self harm and suicidal thoughts references, poor mental health, please don’t read if you’re not in the correct headspace for it.
AN: Again not the best writing more of a trauma dumb ngl, unedited.
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you became aware of Katie’s hands running through your hair, then you hear the soft mumbling of katie and caitlin, talking about you, probably. you don’t want to open your eyes and face the aftermath of what you told Katie, but you do.
Noticing your eyes slowly fluttering open she smiles up at you, giving your resting shoulder a squeeze.
“hiya darling, you alright?”
not wanting to speak just yet you nod, you and katie both know your lying, your not actually okay, it weird now that she knows now that she knows your lying now that she knows how unhappy you truly are, You used to be happy, you used to wake up with a smile, you used to enjoy school, you used to be excited for the day ahead of you but now as you wake up laying on Katie you hate it, you’ve hated it for awhile now, waking up. you don’t want to carry on with the day, you don’t want to talk about your feelings, you want to sleep and you don’t really want to wake up again.
“shall we get some lunch? we can go to nando’s if you’d like? me, you and cait? or we can stay here you pick sweetheart.”
come to think of it you were hungry, you hadn’t since yesterday morning and you wanted to spend time with both Katie and caitlin.
“can we go to nandos please?”
your answer causes Katie to break into a massive smile, your not to sure why your simple answer makes her so happy but your glad nevertheless having been the cause of tears just hours ago.
~~~~
“Do you really have a black card for nandos?”
This causes Katie to break out into yet another of fit of giggles this time caitlin joining in with her.
“YES, i have literally shown you it five hundred times it’s real im a nando’s celebrity y/n!”
she lets out enthusiastically looking at caitlin to back her up.
You laugh at her, really laugh then not a fake laugh but a real belly laugh for a moment you feel glimpses of the old you coming back, the happy carefree you.
“who would’ve fought that the girl cooking the chicken 10 years ago gets it for free now”
She nods happily “it’s mad when you think about it”
“i’m really proud of you kats” you tell her honestly, you were, you were so incredibly proud of your big sister and what she’s made for herself, its hard to even put it in to words, not only the incredible footballer and role model she is for young girls but also for who she is as a person, you couldn’t ask for a better big sister.
“and i’m proud of you y/n”
This causes you to smile at her again, you loved it when people said they were proud of you, especially your sister, it was kind of like a drug to you, you’d always crave the praise of your sister even as a little 5 year old girl you wanted her praise.
That journey to St albans Nando’s was a memorable one, full of laughter, pure real laughter, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed that much, for the 20 minutes there you felt happy, truly happy.
Eventually you pull into the car park, getting out the car caitlin immediately hatches onto you, swinging your arms around making you both giggle as she does so, whilst Katie trails behind moaning about being cold.
“what you gonna get then kiddo” caitlin asks as you both sit down into the booth.
“i know what she wants she’ll have a chicken wrap Cait” Katie’s says overhearing the conversation.
“hm nah i don’t want that.” you tell her seriously, this causes Katie to frown “but you’ve had since you were like 5” she lets out dramatically causing you to break out into another fit of giggles “I’m just kidding obviously i want that.”
~~~
besides the morning you had had a good day, a day full of laughter and messing around and being yourself, it was weird but it felt good, laughing being happy like your usual self.
Getting yourself into bed you heard a knock at your door knowing it was most likely Katie you call her in.
“hey kiddo you all good? did you have a nice afternoon” she asks you coming to sit next you on the bed.
“yeah it was fun” you smile up at her honestly, she smiles at your words, tucking a loose hair behind your ear.
“i’m glad you had some fun, we still need to talk though, i need to know what happened at school and what happened in the bathroom last night kid.” she lets out studying your face for a reaction, you don’t give one you knew she would have to ask eventually.
“the school isn’t really that deep honest these boys were just making fun of me about erm what i told you i don’t know how they know but anyways my teacher got mad at me when i tried to explain so i just ran off im sorry” you tell her a look of sincerity written all over your face, “ they made me so angry and mam was angry at me for leaving so i don’t know i just like i saw red and i was so mad i don’t even remember getting on a flight its like it’s blocked out from my memory I’m really sorry katie.”
Katie just nods in understanding, wrapping her arms round your shoulders pulling you into her side.
“you don’t need to apologise sweetheart, i understand now why you reacted in the way you did and i’m not mad anymore, ill never be mad at you for that, we can get you help now thy you told me, i’m really proud of you for opening up to me y/n i know that took a lot of courage” she tells you softly before continuing “i understand what your going through is incredibly tough on you and i don’t blame you for the way you’ve been trying to cope with it, i get why you’ve been acting out and i promise you i’ll be here every step off the way to get you back happy again.”
For the first time since it happened, since you had started spiralling downwards you felt understood, like someone finally got you, it made you feel warm inside, it made you feel loved again, you’d hadn’t felt loved in a while, you knew you were loved but it hadn’t been shown recently with the way you had been behaving.
“there’s um something else i need to tell you.” you tell her deciding that if you wanted to get better, if you wanted to be your old self you need to start being honest with her “ in the bathroom yesterday i wanted to um well recently when things have been really bad or like when the memories wouldn’t go away i hurt myself it makes everything stop, i want everything to stop Katie please don’t be angry” you sob out looking down at the floor scared of her reaction, her disappointment in you.
“hey hey kidda look at me, breathe your alright, it’s okay darling i understand it’s difficult to go through all the emotions of what happened to you alone im not angry ill never be mad at you for trying to cope with what happened, never.” she says gently that familiar irish accent thick as ever, gently rubbing your back as she says so.
“it’s just sometimes all i can’t feel, hear and see is him and it’s the only thing that stops it i-i just need to feel in control again and not his control.”
You think your sister cries at your confession, you can’t be entirely sure because she wraps you up even tighter then before your head on her shoulder and your own tears are clouding your vision but your fairly certain she’s crying, you feel bad then, you’ve made your sister who rarely cries, cry multiple times in the past 24 hours because of you.
“M’ really sorry kat, i didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“look at me y/n”
slowly you move away from your sisters tight grasp and look up to her to prove your listening.
“you don’t ever have to apologise for how you chose to cope, you did what you could in the situation you were put it in, i’m angry and upset at the world thats put baby sisters through so much, but you never have to apologise to me, i promise you it’s not your fault.”
She sounded so genuine, so caring and so patient that you couldn’t help but start to believe her words, you think that you’ve been needing that reassurance, someone to tell you that you didn’t choose for this to happen, to remind you that your doing your best.
“thank you Katie.” is all you can whisper out, still feeling fairly overwhelmed from your entire day, talking about your feelings wasn’t something you were used to.
“get some sleep y/n, i’ve got you, we’re all right behind you me, cait, mam, da, your siblings, my teammates we’ve got you alright we’re going to help you, i love you so much goodnight sweetheart.” she says softly getting up of the bed and going to turn the light off before turning around quickly “and if you need me you come and get me okay? i’m right next door.” you nod in agreement, not really sure yourself if you’ll get help when you actually need it.
“Goodnight Katie tell caitlin i said goodnight to please.”
She nods before closing your bedroom door and walking back down the stairs.
~~~
As your lay there in the dark, Katie and caitlin long gone to bed, you can’t help but go back to that night, the memories seem more vivid this time, more real like it was happening again, like you were that vulnerable girl in the bathroom that night all over again, truth to be told you were terrified, your entire body was shaking from head to toe, you were loosing consciousness of your surroundings, you were back in that tiled bathroom, back where everything went wrong.
your scratching at your eyes, at your face and at your ears anything to make it stop, make it stop seeming so real.
You can hear the rip of your dress his zipper everything all over again, you can’t hear katie’s words trying to get through to you, you hear caitlin talking to Katie, your just stuck there back there, until someone grabs your shaking body, forcing you to open your eyes and look at them.
“Y/n hey listen to me it’s me, your not there your at Katie’s house your sister Katie with caitlin, your in london not dublin, breathe for me darling”
Katie’s sudden actions and thick accent pulls you out, bringing you back to the bedroom.
you pull your legs up to your arms, your small body still shaking with fear.
“can i touch you y/n?”
you want to say yes, you so desperately want her hug, want her familiarity and comfort but you can’t bring yourself to speak, instead you decide on a simple nod.
you’d hadn’t previously noticed Caitlin’s presence, only realising she’s there when
she leaves the room, leaving the door ajar.
You don’t say anything and Katie doesn’t say anything she just holds you, she holds you tight kissing your head as she does whispering words into your ears.
Caitlin walks back into the room awhile later, a glass of water, tissue and paracetamol in hand.
“i’ll leave this here for you kidda, i wasn’t sure if you’d have a after so i brung some paracetamol for you.” she tells you before turning to katie “i’ll go back to our room love, i love you both so much” she says before turning around and back out the door.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Katie asks you sweetly.
you think that you do, you know it will help to let it out and tell Katie how you were feeling.
“i don’t know what happened it’s l-l-like i was right there and it was happening all over again it was so scary Katie i’m so scared.”
“it’s okay sweetheart, take a deep breathe for me, copy my breathing” she tells you sensing your breathing becoming more rapid again.
You watch her chest like you did last time, following as it moves up and down slowly, feeling your breathing pattern return to normal again you look back up to Katie
“ you need help kiddo, professional help would you give it ago?”
your hesitant, you don’t want help but you also do help, you think the part of talking about your feelings and what happened to a professional is what scares you, but you don’t want to feel like this forever, you think know talking helps so you very hesitantly agree.
“i’m so proud of you y/n, shall we try fall back to sleep? i’ll stay right here with you yeah?”
nodding slowly, you get back down under the covers, katie wraps her arms around you before giving you a kiss on the head.
“i love you sweetheart.”
as you lay there hearing katie’s soft snores you think that maybe you could be happy, maybe eventually you could be your old self again, you could kick a ball around and love school again, your fairly certain that with Katie’s help and a professional you could get there again and be that carefree little girl who ran wild with a mischievous grin, eventually.
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nohoney · 1 day
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imagine: you just had a nasty breakup and you decide to take a break from serious dating and have a hot girl summer for yourself. just sex zero commitments fuck as many people as you want. the problem arises when the first guy you end up fucking, bakugou, is so good so you decide to keep him on as a fuck buddy while you continue looking for future conquests.
little do you know that bakugou fell head over heels for you after that first night together and now he’s doing everything within his power to get you to fall in love with him, that is everything short of actually telling you his feelings because he’s so emotionally constipated and damn near bites your head off when you playfully joke that he might have a crush on you.
oh my god oh my god (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)
bakugou tries to keep his cool so bad, doesn’t ask questions or doesn’t want to think about how you’re still out there seeing other people aside from him. he feels a little ridiculous that it seems to be a one sided thing—he’s got your contact pinned to the top of his text inbox, he keeps toiletries of your preference in his home, and hell he gave you his passwords for two of the streaming services he pays for!
it’s all shit that he thinks screams i fucking like you!
and yet he can’t muster up the actual words to say it out loud. because you don’t want to be tied down, you want to experience being single after your shit break up, and you don’t trust any person right now to handle your heart after what you’ve been through.
bakugou respects all that, but he really really wants you and you’re the only one he wants to be seeing. he’s so damn stupid though because you joked one time about him having some feels for you and he was too quick to snap at you.
“this is only for fun, that’s it.” he reacts instinctively even though he knew he should have said otherwise in that moment. and there was no awkward silence or weird look with how fast he reacted to your joke. only a laugh and an agreeing nod as you dipped a strawberry into a little bowl of nutella he had ready for you as a post sex snack.
“yeah, i’m sooo grateful that you’re my number one right now. can’t believe how lucky i was to get you on the first try!”
number one on your roster, it’s a title that bakugou is happy to have and also hates it at the same time. there’s others after him, numbers two to four or maybe you’ve got eight people on your list—fuck!!!
it drives him crazy!
he doesn’t want to drive you off with these stupid feelings, and he’s especially smug when you text him about some date that had pissed you off beforehand and that you’re heading over to his place. he hopes that the sex he gives you is so good that it’s enough for you to reconsider just making him your only fuck buddy. he quite literally prays on the downfall of your dating life so that he’s the only one around.
so for now he settles with letting you sleep in his bed when he fucks you too hard, hoping that the breakfast he makes you in the morning screams the message i can be your boyfriend.
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xueyidweams · 3 days
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rambling once again (aventurine x cat-person gn!reader) (this kind of pattern is what I’m talking about.) (read more bc this became quite long, sorry!!!)
Aventurine in his life of working for the IPC has come across a lot of stealers or kids trying to find their food for the day. he usually gives them some money and send them on their way. however, he really didn’t expect for someone to try and rob him in Penacony, in the dreamscape no less. Somehow he didn’t sense the man hurling himself towards him and grunted in surprise as he was pushed down, before he could even open his eyes the man was off of him and running away with claw marks all over him.
dumbfounded, he gets up and looks around, only to find two cat eyes staring at him… except they weren’t a cat… well.. half cat half person? He thought the species went extinct long ago. though, you were living proof of the opposite. you helped him sit up, he felt your claws brush against his knuckles and you felt the coolness of his rings on your paw-hand. observing his every move with utmost attention, your feline eyes following his every mimic and body movement.
“well thank you kind stranger—“ you accidentally cut him off as you smell him closely and realize who he is, he smells just like those bastards from the IPC! way too rich to be true smelling! your ears curl backwards and you pull yourself away hastily as you run away from him. He blinks as he sees you run, so fast… is this why the IPC hunts you all down like you’re all one of a kind? He yells after you, “Hey wait! just listen to me, please!“ you look back at him, your teeth snared and your pupils as slanted as they can be, “leave me alone IPC scum!”
you turn a few corners and your eyes widen in horror to see a dead end… what the hell, you know this place like the back of your hand! did they build this just now or have you been hanging in the unfinished part for way too long? the hairs on your tail stand up and your ears curl back as you hear his footsteps, taking a step back your back meets the wall with an oomph.
“Hey look— don’t be so hostile, we don’t have to be enemies. you can trust me.” yeah right. with those eyes? they’re unnervingly pretty and somehow frightening. your gut is telling you to run but your heart is hammering way too fast in your chest and the sound is drowning out his voice and you feel like everything you’ve had to endure to not fall into IPC’s slimy hands again has all been for nothing and—
you feel a hand on your arm, you look up and meet his eyes. then you feel the warm tears staining your cheeks, your tail hugs your leg as your ears droop, “look. please don’t give me up to them, i’ll literally do anything. do you want any dirty work done? i can do it! please just leave me alone, i don’t want to go back i can’t go back!” you see his eyes… soften somehow. to him, you’re a stark reminder of who he was, maybe still is. the way you fight so hard to protect the most precious thing to you, your freedom reminds him so much of the unsavory memories that he doesn’t notice he is squeezing your arm a bit hard and some of the fur is stuck on his rings. you flinch and grimace and he untangles your fur from his rings, he pulls his hands off of you.
he coughs in his hand and looks at you once more, voice softer yet firm. “im not going to hurt you or give you up. that’s not my job anyways. i just wanted to thank you, for helping even though it could put me in serious hot water. cats hate water right?” you half rolls your eyes at his teasing remark, “yeah yeah pretty boy, cough up some cash if you want to thank me. thanks for not turning me in but empty sentiments won’t feed me when i have to wake up from this dream.”
he smiles and takes off the ring from his index finger, he looks at you, “can i hold your hand?” you feel a slight warmness spreading through your face and squint your eyes, “fine but don’t try anything funny!” he chuckles and takes your hand in his gently, “wouldn’t dream of it.” he slips the ring on your ring finger, winking at you. “you can sell this for at least five hundred thousand credits, plenty to eat hm?” you look at your finger, the ring and at him as your heart does summersaults in your ribcage. you’ve never… even as a tease you’ve never been flirted with this is—
he takes advantage of your stupor and strokes your shoulder, squeezes slightly and gives you a smile. “you haven’t seen me and i haven’t seen you, yes?” you nod, speechless but thankful. he turns around and you finally get your voice back, “wait!” he looks back, his eyes watching you with interest. he raises his eyebrows, “thank you. i dont know what else to say but i’ll never forget this. and i wasnt’… joking when i said i could do your dirty work. so if you need something and i can get it done, i’ll do it free of charge.” you manage to tumble out as your voice trembles a bit, still shocked. his smile returns, “I’ll think about it, maybe fate will make us cross paths again huh?” he gives a little wave and starts walking, “oh also, do take care of your fur, it’s rather soft.”
you look dumbfounded, your face morphing from surprised to angry to flustered but he has already left. you look at your ring finger again and play with the ring, maybe the aeons have pitied you now?
‘he’s really pretty…’
you think to yourself as you pocket the ring and think of all the fish, meat and bread you’re gonna eat. and maybe you’ll try that soul glad thing.
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carakook · 2 days
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
“Sorry, I assumed he was your boyfriend because of the way you were tongue fucking outside. My bad.”
→ Chapters list ←
⚘7. Two Petals on the Same Flower
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader ⚘Synopsis: After your unexpected reunion with Jungkook, you must go on with the night and act completely normal... but shit just keeps going wrong. Surely Jeon Jungkook is a demon. ⚘Genre:Forbidden love ⚘Word count: 11.5k+ ⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of anxiety, mentions of sex, angst, conflict, religious metaphors (the story is not religious but makes references to a higher power, karma, fate, etc.), cigarette use, alcohol use, subtle arguing, jealousy, bullying? (fucking Sena), heavy tension, cheating, mentions of cheating, mentions of falling out of love/breaking up. Let me know if I miss anything! ⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story. ⚘A/N: WOW OK SORRY I AM A DAY LATE BUT I HAD ISSUES WITH THE 4096 ERROR, I FIGURED OUT A LOOPHOLE WHICH CONSISTED OF ME COPYING AND PASTING THIS INTO A WORD DOCUMENT, OPENING IT ON MY PHONE, AND THEN COPYING AND PASTING IT AGAIN IN THE APP. ANYWAYS. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I am sorry for the lack of uploads. Please forgive me if there are any typos. Already working on chapter 8! Things are picking up, how do you think things will go? LOVE YOU!
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪ Secrets - The Weeknd
♪ Guilty - TaeMin
♪ Agora Hills - Doja Cat
♪ Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez
♪ if u think i’m pretty - Artemas
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 It’s incredibly rare for you to smoke, as it isn’t exactly a healthy habit to form… Seojoon hates it, and you grew up watching adults do it all around you, swearing you would never pick up the same habit…
And although it isn’t a habit for you… sometimes you just need a fucking cigarette.
You never used to smoke, but Jungkook introduced you to it. Of course he did. On one of the nights you spent with him a long time ago, he went for a smoke outside. You remember scolding him for the nasty habit, telling him you don’t want to kiss him and taste burnt tobacco rather than his own pretty taste. But then he explained how relaxing it can be, how it’s ok to do things like this in moderation. Bad habits don’t make you a bad person, he said. It’s a quick fix for anxiety in some cases. So, you tried you it… and you realized that maybe he was right. You’re an adult, you’re allowed to indulge sometimes, even if it isn’t the best for you. And as much as you hate admitting it, Jungkook was fucking sexy when he smoked.
So, you started smoking too. Not often of course, only socially or when you needed to calm your nerves. An occasional indulgence, if you will…
Much like the kiss you shared with Jungkook moments ago.
You stayed behind after he went back inside, because there was no fucking way you could keep composed in front of everyone after that. Your lips were fucking swollen from the way he kissed you anyway, he left them pink and glossy with traces of him all over you. You remembered you kept an emergency pack of cigs in your bag, one that you haven’t touched in months, and you indulged.
You needed to get your shit together before facing everyone again. Needed to calm the fuck down and put your mask back on; that pretty, pretty mask, decorated in flowers and glitter, hiding the wilting flower growing underneath it. The flower you didn’t even realize was still there. The flower that you swore died when he left.
A cigarette was really the only way you could cope in the moment, and little did you know, Jungkook stepped out back to indulge just like you. Two peas in a fucking pod; or maybe two petals on the same flower.
You weren’t the only one holding on by a thread thanks to this little reunion. He was just better at pretending… fuck, has been pretending for months now. And tonight, he fears he may have a hard time keeping up the façade. Seeing you has awoken something inside of him that was long dormant, a slew of emotions he has no idea how to process. He needs to get his shit together just as much as you do, or he fears he may do something impulsive and stupid… if he knew his reaction to you would have been this strong, he probably would not have come tonight. But he just needed to see you again; his lilac aster, who isn’t much of an aster anymore…
His beautiful flower. Your biggest nightmare.
After smoking, you re-applied your lip stain for the second time, doused a bit more perfume on yourself, and practiced smiling in the car mirror like an idiot. Realized you have been gone far longer than you should have been considering you were only supposed to be grabbing your purse, so you try to act cool and nonchalant as you walk back inside. As if it was totally normal for you to spend 20 minutes outside when you were just doing a simple task.
You’ll just blame it on the anxiety, which isn’t a full on lie…
And as you glance across to the living room while removing your shoes… Seojoon isn’t there.
Neither is Sena or Jungkook.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
This reminds you precisely as to why you called things off with Jungkook. You fucking kissed him out there, and now you’re paranoid someone saw. Was it Yoongi? Did he fucking tattle tell like a rat? You know he saw something, there is no way he didn’t with the way he stared at you when coming to get Jungkook.
“In the kitchen.”
You flinch hard when you here the deep voice address you, turn to the side to see Yoongi leaning on the door frame in the hallway. Looks like the fucking Chesire Cat, the way he’s smiling with an almost mischievous look in his eyes.
“Sorry?”
You respond stupidly, because he caught you by surprise, and you were wondering where three people were, not one. You should only be wondering where one of those people are, that is, if your conscious was clean. But it isn’t. ‘Guilty’ may as well be written across your forehead.
Yoongi knows better.
He shakes his head as he huffs out a little laugh, a laugh that doesn’t sound humorous at all, but almost sarcastic. “Your friend, he’s in the kitchen. Sena too. Said they were talking about some work shit.”
The way he refers to Seojoon as your friend is intentional. He could see the discomfort on your face when he called himself your boyfriend, just as much as he can see the guilt right now.
“Ahh, ok.” You mumble, nodding your head as you shuffle to your feet. You give him the most awkward smile, and then move to make your way to the kitchen. If you weren’t so guilty, you would probably feel incredibly uncomfortable at the thought of Seojoon being alone in the kitchen with Sena. But as of right now, it’s the human fucking cat making you uncomfortable.
“Your boyfriend went for a smoke, if you were wondering. He’s grilling the pork belly outside too. Looked pretty fucked when he came back inside.”
You freeze, because… boyfriend? Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Now he decides to throw the word around?
Does he know?
“Sorry?” You say again, turning to look at him with what was supposed to be a confused expression, but your eyes say it all. Guilt. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Bad, bad, bad.
He snickers at this, because he can tell your mind is reeling with thoughts about who might know. No one knows… other than him. See, Yoongi and Jungkook are close. Yoongi is who Jungkook goes to when he needs advice from someone who won’t be biased, someone who will tell him like it is, call him out on his bullshit. Yoongi is the only other soul who knows about the sins committed between you and Jungkook. He is well acquainted with the secret garden built between you two, much like Sohee is.
Everyone needs someone to tell their secrets to, after all.
Yoongi knew what was happening tonight. Jungkook told him, and Yoongi tried really hard to talk him out of coming. Tried to talk some sense into the idiot’s head, but he knew damn well Jungkook wouldn’t listen. Once Jungkook sets his mind to something, he can’t be stopped. So, Yoongi vowed he would at least attempt to keep the peace tonight, keep Jungkook in check.
Yoongi is also just really fucking good at reading people. Can tell easily when someone is lying. Can look at someone and guess what their trauma is. Always has been a perceptive man… but he’s also great at keeping secrets. A blessing and a curse.
Never one to judge, but always one to tell you when you’re being a shitty person.
And… Yoongi really likes fucking with people.
“Sorry, I assumed he was your boyfriend because of the way you were tongue fucking outside. My bad.”
You flinch again because, holy fuck, he did see. Why was he even watching? Is he about to blow your cover? Blackmail you? Scream to the top of lungs ‘they’re dirty cheaters!’
“He is not my boyfriend. Never has been.”
Not a lie, for once. Never was your boyfriend. Was… fuck. You don’t even know what he was.
Lover. Soulmate. Flower boy. Florist. Garden keeper. Guilty pleasure. A fucking demon who you cant escape, apparently.
Yoongi scoffs at you, because he hates this game. Sure, he wants to fuck with you, make you squirm a bit. Doesn’t like the fact that you showed up here for the first time to meet everyone and end up outside making out with someone you acted like you didn’t know. Thinks if you’re going to fuck up, do something that fucking risky, you may as well grow balls and admit to it when confronted.
He clearly knows, so he sees no reason for you to be defending yourself and deflecting. He gets it, he does, and he isn’t judging either of you. But fuck, don’t make him say it out loud.
He will if he has to. But he doesn’t want to throw that awful ‘M’ word around. Calling him your boyfriend is far less heavy than him voicing what he really was to you, or what you were to him.
“Right… well, I’m not here to start shit. I’m not here to tell everyone either, no one else is aware of your… situation. I’m just here to make sure Kook doesn’t act fucking stupid… so please, do us both a favor, and just… don’t.”
You feel your heartrate pickup and that familiar heat all over your body that comes with being called out. Like a scolded child. You’re getting both irritated and nervous. The only reassuring thing he just said was that he isn’t going to tell anyone… but why is he putting the blame on you?
If you knew Jungkook was going to be here, you wouldn’t have come. And you tried to avoid him, fuck, you went outside specifically to get away from him and get your head straight. But he followed you, of course he did, the love sick stray dog he’s become couldn’t help it.
“Scold him. Not me. If you’ll excuse me…”
Yoongi knows he’s coming off a bit harsh, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t know the details of your fucked up affair with him, he just knows the basics. One drunken night recently is when Jungkook confessed, after he found out you were dating Seojoon. Told Yoongi the basics of what happened and how it ended, and how fucked he still is. Yoongi always knew something was eating Jungkook up that went beyond his rocky marriage, and finding out exactly what it was… it made sense.
He doesn’t ever want to see Jungkook in such a bad spot again. So anguished and full of regret and yearning… he’s only trying to protect him, because even if he is the one being stupid, he’s still one of Yoongi’s dearest friends.
Biased? No. But he will do whatever it takes to lessen the messes Jungkook makes of himself, even if that means being a bit harsh towards you.
And you, you’re reeling. You want to ask Yoongi so many questions, such as how he knows, why he knows, if he hates you automatically after knowing who you are and what you’ve done. It definitely strikes you as odd that Yoongi is aware of who you are, because even if he knew about what happened between you and Jungkook, how would he automatically catch on to the fact it was you? Was it the kiss? Did that give it away..?
Or was this all pre-meditated?
So many questions, but now is not the time for answers. Maybe eventually you can ask, but as of now, you have a role to play; Seojoons perfect girlfriend, apparently.
So you once again, begin walking towards the kitchen.
“One more thing Y/N…”
Can he please just shut the fuck up and disappear?
“Hm?”
“Be so fucking careful around Sena. And I’m not talking about with Jungkook.”
Before you can even ask, he’s gone. You turn to question him, ask him why the fuck he’s being so cryptic, demand he just say what he means… but he’s gone. Chesire fucking cat.
You really don’t like what he said or how it made you feel, because… if not with Jungkook, then what? Why would you possibly need to be careful around that snake?
You huff. Run your fingers through your hair as you feel a migraine start to come on. Fuck, you need a drink, because the nicotine is already wearing off.
You finally end up making your way into the kitchen, but pause once you reach the entryway. See Sena and Seojoon… whispering.
You don’t like that either. What the fuck are they whispering about?
Sena looks irritated as fuck, waving her hands around animatedly as she speaks. Seojoon is looking down at her with an expression that mimics worry, and you try really hard to decipher what they’re saying before you’re noticed.
Fuck you wish tonight was over already. Too much shit is going wrong.
“They’re conspiring against us.”
You jump a little when you feel hot breath in your ear, hear the deep whisper of the man who’s been haunting your dreams for the last six months. You hate how the simple act of him whispering in your ear brings back several memories… all of them incredibly inappropriate.
“What?”
You look up at him as you ask, and he has a shit eating grin on his face. His pupils are still blown to shit, you wonder if its because he’s looking at you again or if they jus haven’t calmed down since the kiss. He smells heavily of smoke, cigarette smoke and charcoal, but fuck the way it mixes with his cologne…
Nope. Stop.
“Oh—I—Y/N. Sorry, I didn’t notice you. How long have you been standing there?”
Seojoon addresses you almost robotically, looking between you and Jungkook as you both stand awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen. Immediately, alarm bells ring in your ear. You wonder why he’s even asking that, what they were talking about to warrant a question like that.
But you cant decipher whether this is a gut feeling, or guilt making you project your wrongdoings onto him. That’s what fucks you up the most; a woman’s intuition is rarely wrong, but how can you tell when you’re the guilty one?
You clear your throat, step to the side a bit to gain some distance from Jungkook. Can’t think straight when he’s all warm and smelling like a fucking lumberjack next to you.
“Uh… I just came in a bit ago, sorry I took so long, just really needed some air… what were you talking about?”
The entire time you speak, everyone’s eyes are on you. You can’t read the emotion on Seojoon’s face, it’s almost like he’s purposely masking it. Jungkook doesn’t even fucking try to hide how intensely he’s looking at you. And Sena… well, her look of disdain just grows.
Seojoon chuckles, shakes his head as he walks towards you, drapes his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in as he nods towards Sena.
“We were just talking about work, me and Sena are working on a project together but I haven’t had time to visit her at the office, so I thought it was great timing. Right Sena?”
He looks at Sena with the same expressionless look, and she doesn’t look at him at all. Her eyes are on you.
“Right.” She replies flatly before making her way beside Jungkook, who barely reacts to her linking their arms together.
Odd, in the way she seems so territorial… not just of him, but everything surrounding her. Including Seojoon.
Don’t like that. Not at all.
Seojoon nods awkwardly and then begins dragging you along towards the dining table, but stops when he moves to kiss your temple… looks at you, scrunches his nose up as he leans in to sniff you.
Fuck. Does he smell Jungkook?
You tense up a bit, wait for him to ask you why you smell like another man all of a sudden. Start praying that you will simply drop dead before you can even answer.
“Did you smoke or something? You smell like smoke, I hate it.”
Fuck… the smoke. Not the cologne, but the smoke.
You hate how relieved you feel knowing you haven’t been caught, although you are a bit offended. Hate how he addresses you like some unruly child in the moment.
You’re about to answer, say something snarky, but of course—
“Sorry man, that must be me. Was smoking and grilling the pork belly outside, must’ve rubbed off on your girl.”
Could he have worded it any worse?
Seojoon nods at Jungkook, regards him casually. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go and arching a playful brow at Jungkook.
“Ah, ok. But please, don’t rub off on my girlfriend, yeah?”
He chuckles before nodding towards the dining room, signaling for you to come with. In any other situation, you would have laughed at the dirty joke. But obviously, not right now, not when you still taste him on your lips, not while you’re remembering the several instances where Jungkook actually rubbed off on you, not while he’s standing right beside you.
If only he—
“If only he knew.”
Jungkook whispers as he passes you, turns around and walks backwards with his tongue sticking out and eyebrows wiggling up and down. Fuck, like he read your fucking mind. You have no idea how he can fucking say that right now, what if someone hears him? He’s being stupid, just as Yoongi said, and you aren’t even provoking him. You’re worried he’s going to get you both caught.
It's at that moment that Sena brushes past you, bumps your shoulder, which you are sure is intentional. She enters the dining room, doesn’t even say sorry, and quite frankly, you don’t care. You don’t have the energy for her petty shit, or for trying to dissect why she’s so weird with you and Seojoon. You have bigger problems, problems decorated in piercings and tattoos.
You grunt at him and roll your eyes, move to brush past him as you mumble simply, “Fucking stop.”
He playfully pouts at you, follows you into the dining room and says low enough for your ears only, “Fiiine I swear I’ll behave the rest of the night.”
You ignore him once you get into the dining room, put your mask back on quickly. Smile at everyone as they greet you warmly. Urge you to take a seat and join them for food. The smell of freshly grilled pork belly and many sides wafts through the air, and even then your appetite isn’t present. The only thing swirling in your stomach are fucking butterflies; or worms and flies, you don’t know anymore.
But you don’t make it obvious, instead you take a seat next to Seojoon, who has already made you a hefty plate of food. You thank him, and begin picking at it as you try to decipher what everyone is chatting about.
Until you feel a familiar warmth beside you again… and you swear to god, you are about to whack him with your fucking purse.
You immediately glare at Jungkook for taking a seat directly beside you, his big ass is so close that his thigh presses against yours. He holds his hand up in surrender, makes a pouty face at you.
“Hey! I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear, it’s the only open seat.”
You scoff at him, look around the table because you are fully prepared to call him out on his bullshit… but he’s actually telling the truth. You realize the table isn’t exactly the biggest, and every seat is taken except for the one he’s at. Sena is on his other side, so it makes sense for him to be sitting there… he isn’t lying.
Ah, ok, you just have absolute shit luck. Right. Got it.
You glare at him a second longer before averting your eyes, staring directly in front of you now… where Yoongi sits. Oh, how lovely. His eyebrow is raised as if to silently say ‘You’re both being stupidly obvious.’
You look away quickly, shoveling a bite of food into your mouth to try and distract yourself from how wrong everything is going. You’re thankful that only three people in the room are aware of it, but also… fuck. You really hate having to pretend when all you want to do is fucking scream.
Thank god for alcohol.
Because as the night goes on, you shamelessly drink as if it’ll be your last. You know how to handle your liquor, so you don’t overdue it, but you drink enough to silent your overthinking brain. In your tipsy state, it’s much easier to laugh along with the jokes being told or to join in on the conversation… it’s also much easier to ignore the thorn in your side.
Easy to ignore the way his eyes are constantly on you. Easy to ignore how every time you laugh, he mimics you. Easy to ignore how every time you speak, he pays such close attention that his mouth traces the words coming from your own. Easy to ignore how he’s subtly shifted closer to you throughout the little potluck dinner.
Easy for you to ignore, but impossible for him.
See, he’s torn. He hasn’t felt so fucking happy in such a long time, simply just being in the same room as you has him on cloud nine. But, fuck, he wishes you would acknowledge him. The fact that you’re ignoring him as if he doesn’t exist has made him grow a bit antsy… maybe even irritable underneath the euphoria he feels from being so close to you again.
So, so close… but still so far away.
Everyone is done eating now, most of the food is gone. Of course, your mac and cheese was a hit, and the pork belly went great with it. Everyone else had dishes just as delicious… with the exception of Sena, who brought a fucking salad full of spinach and kale.
You fight the urge to laugh at the fact the bowl is still full.
Now, everyone is enjoying dessert, the vibe is mellow. Of course you’re still on edge, but it’s easier to manage, because Jungkook really has been behaving. Other than the occasional ‘accidental’ touch, he hasn’t provoked you.
Taehyung, being the gracious host that he is, brewed a fresh pot of English tea to go with dessert. He was hell-bent on dipping the cookies you made in tea, said it was the perfect combo, and nothing is more soothing than a hot cup of tea. Everyone is so kind, with the exception of Sena, and they’ve all been very open and loving towards you. Even Yoongi has talked to you some, didn’t make it weird at all. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought… You are silently thankful for how much things have calmed down since the earlier shit show.
But of course, the calm always comes before the storm.
Jungkook was full of euphoria, even if he was irritable at the fact he couldn’t openly adore you… until he saw Seojoon’s hand gripping your thigh. If you’re being honest, you haven’t even noticed, alcohol always makes you a bit oblivious to things like that especially when you’re engaging in conversation with others. But Jungkook, oh, Jungkook noticed… and he cannot fucking stand it.
He is well aware that he has no fucking right to feel possessive or irritated with Seojoon’s hands on you; you aren’t his girl, you haven’t seen each other in months, and he knew you were coming here with him as your date. He knows.
But even though he knows, he can’t control how he feels in this moment. How he just wants to rip Seojoon’s hands right off of you, maybe even rip his arms off completely so he can’t touch you again. He feels like he’s gonna turn into the fucking Hulk.
The ugly green monster, big, bad, scary, out of control: Jealousy, an emotion he has never been good at controlling.
He bounces his leg up and down, feeling like he’s gonna crawl out of his skin the more he stares at Seojoon caressing your thigh. Feels like he needs to make him stop, but he can’t just tell him to stop, that would be weird. That would give it all away, and although Jungkook is near the point of not giving a fuck who knows about your shared past… he’s also well aware of how reckless he has been all night.
He knows damn well how reckless it would be to make things so obvious. It’s your secret, too, and he has no right to make it known unless you choose to; and he knows you wouldn’t ever choose that willingly. He wouldn’t either, not here anyway, even if he thinks about it.
But then he sees Seojoon laugh, pick up his cup of luke-warm tea, take a sip, and put it back down.
Gets an idea. An extremely petty one.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he says casually, “Mmm this tea could use some sugar, ‘scuse me…”
He reaches over you towards the sugar cubes, even though there’s a cup of them right in front if him, and he makes a move to grab them. But after grabbing the little cup full of sugar cubes, he ‘accidentally’ knocks Seojoon’s cup of tea off of the table…
Right into your lap, spilling all over you and all over Seojoon’s hand.
Seojoon hisses, yanks his hand away from your thigh. You let out a little squeak, although the tea isn’t piping hot anymore, it’s warm and uncomfortable as it covers your thighs and a portion of your dress.
“What the fuck, man?” Seojoon asks irritably, and honestly is being a little dramatic. He’s cradling his hand as if it burns or hurts, but you know it doesn’t considering it didn’t burn you at all, wasn’t even hot.
You also know this was no accident, judging by that look in Jungkook’s eyes that you’ve seen in the past; the look of satisfaction blended with fake innocence… the same look he used to give you when he would edge the fuck out of you even though you begged him to just let you finish.
You immediately move to grab a napkin, which you half expected Seojoon to do for you, but he’s too busy cradling his hand. Drama king. You begin dabbing at your dress and thighs, shooting Jungkook a glare similar to the one earlier.
He flashes the most innocent, apologetic, fake-ass smile you’ve ever seen, grabs a napkin and starts assisting you in cleaning up the mess on your thighs.
“Ah, I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy sometimes. Let me help…”
Two things go through your mind; why is Jungkook helping you, but not Seojoon, and holy fuck, he is touching your thighs.
To the rest of the table, who are stuck between scolding Jungkook and checking on you and Seojoon, his touches probably seem clinical; an attempt to help fix his mess… but to you, it feels as if the tea sticking to your skin is suddenly piping hot. His fingers fucking burn when they touch your skin, and it causes goose bumps to raise all over your body.
You shoot him a look, although you aren’t sure of your expression. He makes eye contact, doesn’t dare look away as he slowly wipes the napkin over your skin, dabbing away the liquid until your skin is dry.
That same needy look he used to get when you were on top. Those fucking eyes that beg you for anything, everything, suck you in. It’s as if he’s silently saying, ‘please let me touch, I’ll do anything.’
You hate yourself at this moment, the alcohol somehow doesn’t dim down the sensations of his fingers in your skin. You wonder why when Seojoon was caressing your thigh, you barely noticed… yet this small touch from Jugkook is setting you alight in a way you haven’t been in so fucking long.
Why are you even thinking about these things? Why are you remembering these things about him? They’re all supposed to be buried in the soil along with your dead flower. Is the flower still alive? Has it somehow survived these months of anguish and healing?
Did you ever heal at all? Did you ever truly get over him, or did you just get better at not thinking about him every second of the day?
Fuck. This is a mess. The way he’s looking at you doesn’t help, and what's worse is you cannot look away. Your thighs are dry now, and he dabs uselessly at the wet spot on your dress as his other hand boldly reaches up and skims the side of your leg… what the fuck is he doing? At a table full of people?!
You don’t even realize that Seojoon is now arguing petulantly with Taehyung. Oh, sweet Taehyung, who is being just as dramatic as Seojoon, fretting over his hand as if it’s the end of the fucking world that Jungkook spilled luke-warm tea on him.
“Jungkook-ah, say you’re sorry! You could’ve hurt him, him and his pretty hands!”
That snaps Jungkook out of it, the needy look leaving his face quickly as he snatches both hands away from you as if you are the one burning him now. He won’t even look at you.
Because he just almost lost control. Genuinley, he was not paying attention to those around you both. He got fucking sucked into another dimension, full of flashbacks, pictures of flowers and your face, and all he fucking wanted was to touch.
As much of a little shit as he is being, he doesn’t want that. He feels crazy. Just scared himself a little bit.
He glares at Taehyung and then addresses Seojoon, “My apologies hyung, was an honest accident. Is your hand ok?”
Seojoon nearly wants to scoff at the use of the honorific because something feels so fake about it… because it is fake. Meant to butter him up and make him believe Jungkook didn’t just purposely spill some tea all over him out of jealousy.
Luckily, Seojoon is none the wiser. He’s just irritated with Jungkook in general… for other reasons that don’t exactly involve you or Jungkook directly at all.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect it…”
Seojoon mumbles as he realizes you also got drenched in tea. He looks down, notices you’re already as clean as you can be, and is thankful he doesn’t have to fret over you too. His mood is a bit soured now, but even then he nudges you and gives you a small smile.
“You good baby? Didn’t ruin your dress, did you?”
You nod at him, try to hide how shaky your hands are as you straighten the hem of your dress to cover your thighs. You feel a bit too exposed, your skin still burning from the intensity of Jungkook’s touch… begin to wonder if he has turned into poison ivy, rather than a flower.
You can’t recall him being quite this intense in the past. Lot’s of unanswered questions go through your head again.
You nod at Seojoon and smile, “I’m good, it’ll come out if I wash it. No worries.”
You let out a deep breathe, and Seojoon goes back to talking to Tae about some work thing. You look up through your lashes, make eye contact with the Chesire cat.
His expression is unreadable, which is unsettling for reasons you don’t understand. You wish you knew how much he knew… did he see Jungkook touching you again?
“You should be more careful, you’re really like a child sometimes, it’s exhausting.”
Your head snaps up to the sound of that grating female voice, and you feel another surge of irritation. Sena, speaking to Jungkook like that… oh, it pisses you off almost as he does.
What he did was childish, and you’ll pull him aside to scold him later probably, but why is she saying something like that in front of everyone? Isn’t that embarrassing? It is, it’s fucking humiliating. If Seojoon said some shit like that to you, you’d walk out.
Jungkook’s friends don’t know the exact issues in his marriage, but they’re used to this kind of thing. They know it is far from perfect, and have become accustomed to Sena’s behavior. They always make sure to check on him when she’s not around, but he always tells them to mind their business.
It doesn’t change the fact that it’s always a bit awkward when they overhear it.
Jungkook just rolls his eyes, because he doesn’t care anymore. Nods at her. Agrees with her, even. If he doesn’t, she’ll just argue, and he doesn’t really have the energy for that right now. Not when he still has the lingering feeling of your skin on the tips of his fingers, or the satisfaction he feels at the fact Seojoon hasn’t even attempted to touch your thigh again.
Messy, but… Mission accomplished.
You, however, it isn’t so easy for you to let go. You aren’t accustomed to her behavior like him and his friends, and you don’t plan to be.
“It’s fine, really, accidents happen.”
You shoot her a tight smile, try to be polite and reassuring… and she scoffs, rolls her eyes, and then waves a fucking hand at you.
“See? That’s something a mom would say to their kid if they spilled something. Even our new friend is talking to you like a child Jungkook, do better.”
You swear you feel your eye start to twitch.
“Sena, enough. I get it. My bad.”
Jungkook tries to get her to shut up, can tell you’re getting irritated. Part of him secretly likes it, the fact that you hate his guts right now but still try to defend his honor. But he’s also embarrassed because you’re finally seeing what his wife is like.
He wishes he was proud of his wife, but when shit like this happens? He’s anything but.
You try really hard not to start seething at her. You nearly want to jump across the table and pull her blonde fucking hair.
“No, I’m not speaking to him like a child, I’m stating the fact that accidents do happen and it’s nothing to get bitchy over. You’re the only one addressing a grown man as if he’s a child over something so small, Sena.”
“Excuse me???”
You know that scene in Mean Girls when the cafeteria turns into a jungle, and everyone starts fighting? It feels like that’s about to happen.
“Alright! Who wants more margaritas?! I do!”
Hoseoks voice carries across the table, clapping his hands with the brightest smile on his face, sounding a lot cheerier than he should in your opinion. But thankfully, it works. Clearly everyone heard you, and now you’re embarrassed. You just inadvertently called this woman a bitch over a man everyone presumes you met tonight for the very first time. You’re certain you’ve just made yourself look bad, could have handled yourself a lot better. But, fuck, you couldn’t help it. You hated hearing her speak to him that way and then try to make it as if you agreed with her! You tried to be nice, but she fucking pushed it.
“No thanks. My apologies.”
You bow your head slightly, and Hoseok just keeps that smile on his face. Rushes over to Sena’s side, badgering her to go in the kitchen and help him make more drinks. She groans at him, but gets up with an eyeroll and follows him.
You have a feeling that he did that specifically to get her away from you, and you’re unsure if that’s in your favor or hers. Fuck. Way too much shit has happened tonight.
You glance around the table, notice Jin and Namjoon are gone, must gave gone outside or maybe in the living room. Seojoon and Taehyung are in their own little world, you wonder if they even heard the little argument… and if they did, why hasn’t Seojoon said anything? God, you hope he isn’t mad now, although you wouldn’t blame him if he were.
That’s when you look straight ahead. Yoongi again. And he has the littlest smirk on his face… except this time, it almost seems genuine, not sarcastic or misplaced.
It's full of respect, because you just did the one thing everyone else around you refuses to fucking do for Jungkooks sake, which is speak up against Sena and her shitty attitude.
That’s the moment that you decide that you don’t regret it, and you don’t care if Seojoon is mad. If Yoongi, the man who apparently knows bits and pieces of your deepest darkest secret, is looking at you like that? Then you know you did the right thing. You’re a little proud, even.
You nod to Yoongi, a silent exchange between you two. Then you look beside you, and see Jungkook, with that needy expression on his face again. He’s sitting with his elbow propped on the table, his chin resting in his palm. Looks like he’s drunk, cheeks red, eyes heavy, lips a bit pouty… but he only had one beer.
He is drunk. Drunk on you, on the way you just defended him in front of everyone against his fucking wife. Nearly got hard because of it, which is why his cheeks are so flushed. He never expects the guys to defend him, in fact, makes it clear that they stay out of it when her attitude flares up. But you, oh you… You met her for the first time tonight, met everyone here for the first time tonight, and even in a room full of people you’re trying to impress… you defended him.
You still love him, he just knows it. He knows deep down inside, you must fucking love him. If you really hated him, you wouldn’t have done that.
He almost feels giddy at the knowledge.
You have a hard time looking away once again, you’re amazed that no one has noticed how intensely you both have locked eyes several times tonight. Jungkook just has that effect on you, he’s fucking beautiful, and the way he looks at you is enough to make you weak to this fucking day. Drives you mad with conflict.
And as you stare at him, you finally notice the little purple star patches on his face. Looks just like the ones you use… you wonder where the fuck yours even went, now that you think about it. Haven’t seem them in months.
You point to his cheek and mumble almost stupidly, “Those look exactly like the ones I used to use.”
He hums in response, sticks his tongue in cheek. Fights a grin, because if only you knew he fucking stole these from you the night he left.
Maybe he’ll confess one day.
“Weird,” is all he says in response.
He stares at you some more, like you he can’t look away. Looking at you, being near you, is the equivalent to a thirsty man finally getting a few sips of water. He was fucking thirsty, and his eyes drink you in as if you’re water straight from the spring.
He mouths the word ‘pretty,’ at you, uses a finger to point at your face and then your dress. Whispers, “So pretty.”
Fuck. You are going to die. You are going to have a heart attack.
“Jungkook, I’m ready to go home.”
Ok, maybe you won’t die, because you’re interrupted again… or maybe you will fucking die for that very reason.
Butterflies again. Not worms and flies. Butterflies.
Sena is staring at Jungkook with an irritated expression, her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed grumpily. Seems Hoseok’s margaritas didn’t sway her or improve her mood, seems you ruined her mood for the rest of the night, seems she’s the fucking child after all…
You just hope your little outburst doesn’t cause problems for Jungkook at home.
“Alright.” Jungkook says flatly, eyes still never leaving you.
You wonder if she notices. That thought alone makes you finally look away.
Seojoon eyes Sena almost wearily, but his gaze shifts to you once he realizes you’re staring back. He gives you a tight lipped smiled.
“We should get going too, you ready?”
You nod at him, because as much as you really would enjoy staying to chat, or making love with your eyes at Jungkook, you are fucking exhausted. Emotionally, anyway. Tonight has been so unnecessarily dramatic and you just want to go to sleep. You want to be able to take a shower, sit in there until the water runs cold, maybe cry a little, and process all of the shit that has happened tonight.
“Yeah, getting a little tired. Must be the alcohol.”
Or maybe it’s the headache staring at you like a sad dog right now.
You get up, force yourself to not look at Jungkook as he gets up as well. He nearly pouts, but he also thinks right now is a good time to wrap it up… although a sense of dread fills him at the thought of not seeing you again.
He won’t let that be an option. Nope.
You make your way to the living room where most of the guys have gathered, say your goodbyes. Each of them insist on hugging you, thanking you for coming. Taehyung especially, gives you the biggest fucking bear hug and makes you agree to hangout again, says he adores you, begs you to make him more cookies.
Seojoon is less than pleased with this, but tries not to show it. Tries not to feel threatened or jealous… tries not to feel guilty about the fact his own head was a bit all over the place tonight. Was barely paying attention to you after the whole girlfriend fiasco, if he’s being honest. Was worried Sena may start shit…
You don’t need to know that, though.
Yoongi is the only one who doesn’t hug you, which you don’t mind. Would feel far too awkward giving this mysterious man a hug. But he does offer you a head nod and a lip purse, so that’s something, right?
You don’t say goodbye to Sena, although Seojoon did say goodbye in both of your behaves.
You don’t say goodbye to Jungkook either. Don’t know if you can stomach uttering the words ‘goodbye’ again. Makes you feel all kinds of fucked up, so you just… don’t.
But of course, he won’t have that. Absolutely not.
Because right as you are following Seojoon out the door after putting on your ‘thrifted’ coat and shoes, he grabs your arm, pulls you back in. You let out a huff of air and yank your arm away. Not that the touch makes you uncomfortable, but… him touching you at all is causing some very confusing feelings, just like when he ‘accidentally’ spilled Seojoon’s tea and then cleaned you up after.
“You didn’t say bye. And you forgot your purse at the table.”
He states simply, handing you your purse and then sticking his hands in his pocket politely as he rocks back and forth on his heels.
Giving you that same fucking look. It’s so subtle, but his eyes practically beg you to at least say goodbye to him.
He's gonna make this hard, isn’t he?
You nod at him awkwardly and sling your purse over your shoulder. Fail to realize that it’s a bit lighter than it was when you originally brought it.
Because Jungkook, being the thief that he apparently is, impulsively took something from it. This time, he doesn’t intend to keep it, quite the opposite actually. See, he knew you would probably refuse to see him after this. He can’t take that. He needed an excuse to see you again, anything, something that you wouldn’t be able to say no to since he is certain you probably won’t even unblock his number after this.
He isn’t even sure what he plans to do when seeing you again. His intentions aren’t necessarily to start things up again, he isn’t that stupid, but… just to be in your life again. He would do anything to be in your life again.
Will do his fucking best to control himself if you do come around and show him mercy.
So… he took your wallet. Yeah, probably a very shitty thing to do. But you need your wallet, and he needs to see you… he can just say you dropped it and he picked it up for you. Maybe you’ll meet him for coffee, take it back, and then he can get on his knees and beg again for you to please, please, please give him another spot in your life.
Maybe it’s reckless, but he has been reckless all night. Maybe he will regret this tomorrow morning.
You don’t know this though, have no clue, completely just done with this shit tonight. Don’t even think to double check and make sure you have all of your belongings before leaving.
So you mutter, “Thanks… see ya.”
And you turn to walk off. Try to ignore how fucking terrible it feels to act so indifferent with him, but you don’t know how else to act after the past, and after the shit he pulled tonight. Reckless is an understatement in your opinion.
He's actually satisfied with this… because ‘see ya,’ implies that you will see him again. Whether it’s a subconscious choice of words, or intentional, he isn’t sure; but it still implies you are at least considering seeing him again.
It makes him smile to himself as he watches you walk off.
“See ya.” He echoes in response.
Now he just needs to figure out a way to contact you when you aren’t face to face, since you’ve blocked his number…
The drive home was fairly quiet, other than Seojoon thanking you for coming. He seemed a bit on edge, didn’t really say much after the vague praise of how well you did with his friends… but you chalked it up to him just being tired. You aren’t sure what the fuck the deal is between him and Sena, but you assume maybe she’s just someone who is very hard to be around. Seojoon works with her, so of course he would be a bit awkward with the way she acted, you wouldn’t want things to be awkward for him at work just because you don’t get along with her.
But also… you find it incredibly odd that he didn’t say anything when you stood up to her. He didn’t scold you, didn’t defend you, didn’t even tell you to watch your mouth. He didn’t bring it up at all… you swore he would. If it were you in his position, you would have stood by him and supported him in speaking up.
But he just said… nothing. Maybe he just doesn’t want to argue, or maybe he didn’t notice it; it’s been a long night, and you’re both full and tired. You’re more tired than him considering you drank a bit heavily, thank god he didn’t drink more than a beer.
Regardless, he takes you back to your place, decides he’s going to sleep over because he’s way too tired to drive back. You sometimes forget the fact that he’s older than you, and nearly make a joke about him being an old man… but decide against it. He seems a little grumpy.
You really just wanted to come home and wallow in your own self pity, but you suppose you will have to put that off.
Besides, this will be a good chance to bring up the fact that he called you his fucking girlfriend. Labeled you without giving you a heads up. And after you deal with that, he can fall asleep, and you can cry into your pillow about fucking flower boy and his antics.
You do take a shower first, although it isn’t two hours long like you wished it was. You stay in there for about 45 minutes before getting out, let the warm water wash over your body as you decompress. Tried not to think too much about those needy eyes or fiery hands.
Key word: tried. And you fucking failed. The moment you started to get aroused at a bunch of unwelcome memories, you turned the water to the coldest setting. Then you got out, dried yourself off, did all the girly thinks like skincare and lotion, and then got dressed. Pretended it didn’t happen.
As you make your way out of the bathroom, you see Seojoon has already made himself comfortable in your bed. He’s dressed down into his boxers, laying on his stomach with his cheek pressed into the pillow. His eyes are closed, but you know he’s not asleep because you can see the stress lining his brows.
Normally such a sight would be comforting… you don’t like sleeping alone. But tonight, you almost wish he went home so that you could have a few moments of peace.
Or maybe so you could have a complete mental breakdown without him being near.
You sigh and make your way to lay beside him on the bed, plug your phone into the charger and then look down at him. Cross your arms as you lean against the headboard, and he can feel you staring at the back of his head, so he turns to face you.
He knows what you’re about to say. Doesn’t want to deal with it, really, but he knows he needs to. So he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to say it.
“So I’m your girlfriend now?”
There it is.
He shrugs, keeps his eyes closed. Says simply, “Yeah.”
What more is there to say? Do you expect him to apologize for putting that label on your relationship finally, after several months of basically being boyfriend-girlfriend? It’s essentially what you are to begin with, he doesn’t see the big deal. It’s just a stupid label.
And it protects him from losing you. He didn’t like the way Taehyung doted on you, or how Hoseok called you pretty. He needed everyone there to know you were taken… especially that Jungkook guy. He swears he saw him looking at your ass.
(He did, by the way.)
If Seojoon knew the truth behind Jungkook’s little glances, he would probably have had a heart attack. Thank god he doesn’t know, even though you are unaware of the jealousy festering inside of Seojoon.
But that isn’t the only reason he claimed you as his girlfriend, Sena was a huge reason. The guys doting on you was just a bit of a push to get the words out, but he needed Sena to know he was exclusive with you considering she was far too comfortable when she greeted him.
Exclusive for now, anyway. Things between him and Sena are… complicated.
Just like things between you and Jungkook.
And neither of you have a fucking clue.
“Well, we never talked about it so it was pretty off putting to hear you just blurt it out like that. I didn’t like it Seojoon.”
You keep your voice leveled when speaking to him, calm, because you don’t want him to think you’re trying to argue with him… but you also want him to know how you feel. Boundaries and all that.
“Ugh, Y/N, it isn’t that serious. We are basically in a relationship as it is, you’re my girlfriend even without the label. You know it’s true, babe.”
You huff at him, because he doesn’t get it. He isn’t wrong exactly, but… you feel pressured now. The label isn’t the issue, it’s the fact that yesterday you were comfortable with whatever you and Seojoon are; now you’re unsure. A bit nervous, even.
“I get that Seojoon, I do, but you know how I am… I told you I wanted to move slow.”
“Yeah, you wanted to move slow, yet I have a key to your apartment and basically live here. Don’t be so stubborn, just let it be…”
You’re conflicted… because he’s right. You did say you wanted to move slow, yet you contradicted yourself in several ways. You don’t think you lead him on, because you do want to be serious with him… but also, pressure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, and you do not like it.
You begin to speak up, but he cuts you off.
“Baby, just stop overthinking. We just needed a little push, that’s all, and I pushed. Now you’re my girlfriend. As simple as that, yeah?”
He reaches up and pats your cheek lazily before turning on his back and grabbing his phone. You’re speechless momentarily, have no fucking idea how to respond to that. Start to question whether you’re being too uptight or not, because he’s making it sound as if you are. Again, he isn’t wrong… but you feel a bit manipulated. He literally silenced you.
Fuck, you hate this. You don’t hate the idea of being his girlfriend, but the way he’s handling it all is throwing you off completely.
You begin to wonder whether or not seeing Jungkook has anything to do with how fucked you’re feeling about it all. If you hadn’t seen him tonight, would you be more accepting of the new label? More willing to hear Seojoon out? Is this all just you being unreasonable?
Or is Seojoon being a fucking dick?
“I leave at six in the morning tomorrow, quite a few coworkers are joining on the trip. You sure you don’t wanna come? I can buy your ticket and everything.”
“Huh?”
Seojoon breaks you out of your silent thought, speaking of some trip you don’t remember discussing. You’re all over the place really, can’t seem to focus on a single thought at a time, and you kind of hate how he just brushed over the topic expecting you to accept what he said…
… even though you kinda did.
“Work trip to New York? For the fashion convention? It’s only for the weekend, I told you about it last month. You really should come.”
You blink at him, start to vaguely recall him telling you about a trip at some point. He invited you, and you declined because you thought you would be working. Also, you didn’t know how you felt about traveling with him at the time so you thought it was best he went on his own.
Funny how he so easily made you forget the problem at hand, isn’t it?
You realize you actually don’t work this weekend, which is rare. Weekends are normally busiest, all the couples and families come in on the weekends to get in their quality time. But you switched your shifts this weekend to Sohee, because she needed Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off to visit her parents unexpectedly.
Speaking of Sohee, you need to call her and fucking tell her what a mess you’re in. Later, though.
A trip to New York doesn’t sound terrible… you could use the mini vacation, especially after tonight. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want you there, and maybe this can warm you up to being his girlfriend, since that’s apparently a thing now. You’ve never really been one for impulsive decisions, but you decide this could be good for both of you. Maybe fate is throwing you a bone, freeing up your schedule like this.
Or maybe fate is fucking with you. You can never be too sure…
Going to New York would mean no chance of seeing flower boy, no reminders of him, just a complete distraction. That’s something you really need right now…
“And you’re sure it isn’t too much trouble? I mean, I don’t work like I thought I did, so I could come… but only if it isn’t too much trouble.”
You nibble your lower lip as you look down at him, and he side eyes you. Gives you the most sheepish look.
“Uh, well… no, no trouble at all considering I already bought a plane ticket for the seat next to mine… Don’t look at me like that! I did it just in case, and I don’t like sitting next to strangers so even if you didn’t come, I had a reason. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. Anyway, yes, please come.”
He gives you a sweet look, fights a laugh. He’s lying, of course. He always intended on you joining him, which is why he bought that second plane ticket… he would have convinced you last minute even if you said no.
You roll your eyes at him, not as irritated as you should be at the gesture because the more you think of a little weekend trip to New York, the more you get excited to get the fuck away for a while.
You reach over and tug his hair playfully, “Ugh, you’re ridiculous… but I’ll come, since you so kindly offered.”
He grins at you, locks his phone and gets more comfortable in the bed. Knowing you’re coming along, and actually seem to be excited about it, is relieving for him. He doesn’t need to do any extra work to coerce you into coming. He gets his way and you remain happy.
“That’s my girl. I’m gonna leave your place at like four, go home to grab my luggage. Taehyung is watching Simba for me. You can pack while I do that, you only need to pack enough to last until Monday.”
You nod at him, “Ok, that sounds good, but you should really take a nap… it’s late and you’ll be tired.”
“Mmm, yeah, guess I should… but I’ll just sleep on the plane. I’ll be fine, long flight.”
You’re thankful that you stay organized because it won’t take you long to pack. Your makeup is already in a bag, and you can just stuff your girly things in your toiletry travel bag… your room is still sort of messy from earlier, but that’s fine. You can pack some clothes quickly in the morning. You feel lighter at the thought that you’re getting to go away for a while, clear your head, so you can’t really find yourself too bothered or stressed at the moment.
As far as sleep, well… you’ve had many sleepless nights the last few months anyway, you’ll be fine as long as you nap on the plane. You’ll deal with the jet lag fine as long as Seojoon supplies you with caffeine.
He falls asleep quickly after that, seems to be at peace… because after you dropped the girlfriend issue, and agreed to go with him so easily, he felt he has no problems worth losing sleep over.
Must be real nice.
You lay back against your pillow and grab your phone, you’re about to search up things to do in New York… when you see a slew of Instagram notifications.
Your stomach fucking drops when you see the name of who has flooded your inbox with DM’s.
Jeon Photography… in other words, fucking Jungkook.
You reluctantly open the DM’s, fully prepared to block his work account.
But it doesn’t work out that way.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ok, so… you didn’t block him. You messaged him back. And he has your wallet.
You can argue that you messaged him back for that reason alone, you need your wallet to go to NY. And it seems to have worked out, you’ll get it in the morning.
But now, rather than being excited about your little trip, you are full of fucking conflict again. Because one, you have to see Jungkook. Two, Sena is apparently coming and you are pissed that Seojoon didn’t mention that to you. And three… you were fucking smiling at your phone while you messaged him. You liked it far too much.
While Seojoon is right beside you.
You know you shouldn’t be getting involved with Jungkook more than necessary, it isn’t right for several reasons. But, ugh, it was cute how he was acting all sweet and desperate for your attention. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to laugh at him purposely misspelling Seojoon’s name.
But, you gave none of that away. You need to put distance. You don’t want to let Sena ruin this trip for you, and you hope you don’t have to see her much. You need to try and calm down once again, can’t let this ruin yet another occasion you are supposed to be spending with Seojoon. Besides, you won’t have to see Jungkook long, you’ll grab your wallet and go.
And you swear you won’t message him again… even though you make no effort to block his Instagram. You don’t unblock his cell number either, though… so there’s that.
Although a bit giddy at his messages, you’re upset with him. Replay tonight’s events in your head as you try to sleep. The fucking shock of him being there, the passive aggressive comments made, the kiss, the declaration that he isn’t done with you, fucking Yoongi, the tea incident, fuck… all of it. And when you finally got it all off your mind, swept it under the rug, he messages you. Puts himself back in your head.
You need to sleep, not fret over Jeon Jungkook or the guilt that is now resurfacing with Seojoon sleeping soundly beside you.
You can worry about it another time. You can ignore how good it felt to be casually messaging him. You can pretend the kiss didn’t happen. You can refuse to see him after tomorrow.
Sweep it under the rug. Bury it in the dirt. He has no say in whether you’re done or not, and you are done. You swear you are done with him. Have been for a while…
That’s what you repeat to yourself, anyway, all the way until you fall asleep.
Silly girl… you never should have told him you were going on that work trip.
You wake up the next morning to Seojoon nudging you, mumbling something about leaving and packing quickly. Kisses you on the forehead before saying he will be back in 45 minutes to pick you up. You regret staying up late, because fuck, it is hard to get out of bed.
But you do. You don’t want to be late or miss this trip, not after last night. You barely think about the fact that that you must see Jungkook briefly today, you just wake up robotically. Coffee will help.
You go through the motions of taking out your dusty suitcase, throw in a bunch of clothes without really paying attention to what you’re packing. You’re sure it’s fine, you see underwear and bras, the clothes surrounding it looks fine enough. You grab your makeup bag, stuff it in, and then grab your travel toiletry bag and put all of the girly things inside before stuffing it in with the rest of your stuff.
You impulsively grab the polaroid camera you have and pack it with your stuff, think it’ll be nice to grab some photos of New York while you’re there. A little activity to create some memories.
After packing a few other mundane things, you get dressed. Decide to go comfy, put on an oversized sweater and some leggings, some sandals to go with it. You put your hair in a messy bun, and don’t bother to put on makeup because you’ll most likely be sleeping the entire way there anyway.
Time flies, of course. You’re tired as fuck, and judging by Seojoon’s grumpy face he is too when he arrives to get you. He helps you pack your luggage into his trunk and pats you on the back for being able to pack so quickly. He may look grumpy, but it seems he isn’t actually. He’s usually pretty sweet when in the mornings.
He stops to get you both a quick cup of coffee on the way to the airport, and you feel lighter already. You have a lot of shit to unpack mentally, but you are thankful that you said yes to this impromptu trip. You’ve never been to New York before, although you have been to the states a few times, New York was always one place you wanted to experience. Who better to experience it with than your new ‘boyfriend?’
When you arrive to the airport, Seojoon drops you off at the terminal with the luggage while he makes arrangements for the car. You wait patiently while sipping your coffee, sitting on one of the empty benches. People watching, seeing the plethora of strangers who all look different, you wonder where they’re coming from or going to. Its fascinating, really, knowing you’ll never see these people again, you like to imagine what they’re like anyway…
And then you see him.
No, not Seojoon, but Jungkook. And Sena. Sena looks fucking mean as she walks through the glass doors, and Jungkook looks far too chipper considering it is 5:15 in the fucking morning.
…why are they carrying so much luggage?
Its funny, how Jungkook immediately starts looking around, surely looking for you. He spots you quickly, and you swear you can see his invisible tail wag when his eyes land on you. He starts sprinting over carrying two big bags of luggage, while Sena pouts and trudges behind him while she drags another large bag. When he finally gets closer, he lowers his face mask and smiles so big that his eyes crinkle up and dimples pop out prominently.
Fuck.
You try to stay neutral, give them both a friendly smile as they approach.
“Hey. Good morning.”
Jungkook fucking grins, “Good morning sunshine.”
For fucks sake, it is too early for this.
You get up, set your coffee down next to the bags and awkwardly ask, “Umm, my wallet? Kinda need it to board the plane.”
He nods at you, digs into his pocket and pulls it out, his deep ass pockets in those comfy sweats you recognize far too well.
He also pulls out a passport… no, two passports… why two…?
He hands you the wallet, “Here, I kept it safe for you.”
He winks playfully, and Sena just rolls her eyes. Barely even looks at you as she mumbles, “So Seojoon brought you? Guess it’s a fucking couples trip now.”
“Hm?”
You blink at her confusedly. Her rude tone doesn’t really phase you, you were a bitch to her last night (although it was well deserved,) so you don’t expect her to be happy to see you. But what the fuck does she mean by couples trip? Is someone else bringing their significant other?
God, Jungkook has that shit eating grin again, and if you weren’t so tired you would have probably put two and two together by now.
“Oh, I decided to tag along. There’s a photography expo coincidentally, and I wanted to check it out.”
No fucking way.
You don’t say anything at first as you put the pieces together. Two passports, the large amount of luggage, Sena’s grumpy face, Jungkook’s happy fucking mood.
Did he do this on purpose?
He won’t admit it to you, but yeah, he absolutely did. The moment you said you were going to New York, he decided he would too. He didn’t lie completely, there really is a Photography expo being held, but that isn’t the reason he’s coming; that’s just his excuse. The reason he’s coming is… well, you. To be near you. To coax you into letting him back in.
This actually started a lot of shit with Sena. She was in a bitchy mood last night after leaving Taehyung’s house, tried arguing with Jungkook about so many different things. And this morning, he invited himself, which she fucking hated. To her, he was a burden, almost embarrassing to bring along. This was her fucking job, she didn’t need her manchild husband tagging along.
She tried to tell him no, but he also wasn’t having that. He didn’t fucking care. He told her he was coming and she could get the fuck over it, she didn’t even have to share a room with him if it was that big of a deal.
She latched onto that quickly, said she refused to share a room with him because she was planning on having colleagues over to discuss the fashion expo over drinks. Rented a fancy pent house like room just for that. He knows damn well that’s not normal, she shouldn’t be so hesitant to share a room with her own husband.
But again, he stopped caring a while ago. They don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, so it’s not that big of a deal to him. He has one goal in mind…
Be with his Aster. Even if it’s just as friends. He is determined to earn a place in your life again, and he hopes this trip will give him a chance to convince you to give him a chance.
You? Oh, you are in shambles, because this trip was literally supposed to get your mind off of him. Turns out, fate isn’t on your fucking side, fate really is just fucking with you.
Or maybe Jeon Jungkook is fucking with fate.
You nearly want to slap him, demand that he leaves. But you can’t. You have no proof that he did this in purpose, but your gut tells you that he did. He’s acting crazy, after a single night of seeing each other again, and he suddenly keeps popping up? Pushing you to communicate again?
He wasn’t lying when he said he isn’t done. He fucking meant that. In his perspective, this is a chance at redemption. He doesn’t know in what context, but fuck, you’re dating his wife’s coworker, who is also close friends with one of his best friends… it’s all connected.
It can’t be coincidence. He see’s it as a tragic gift, a fucked up second chance. He isn’t going to pass it up. Not until you explicitly say, ‘fuck off, I never want to see you or talk to you again.’
And you haven’t said that. You’ve told him to go away, but you’ve yet to seriously set the boundary.
Contradicting yourself, yet again…
It's at that moment that Seojoon shows up, places a hand on your back. Greets Sena politely, and then she informs him that Jungkook is joining as well. He makes some joke, too tired to feel some type of way about Jungkook coming along. But you aren’t paying attention, not really.
Because Jungkook is giving you those needy eyes again. Smile soft, eyes glittering with stars you were once so find off, skin almost glowing as if he just got laid.
He mouths at you ‘Unblock my number.’ And then fucking giggles.
Holy fuck. It is going to be a long weekend. You can’t catch a break, can you? Karma really is a bitch.
Karma or fate. Both you have grown to sincerely despise within the last 24 hours.
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adorethedistance · 3 days
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I Don’t Just Like You - Trevor Zegras x Hughes!Reader
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Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, tension/fighting, jealousy, Dixie lmao
Words: 2161
Summary: Tension builds with Trevor over his new partnership until the two of you confess your feelings.
A/n: Y'all I am so not doing well rn. I am processing a break up and questioning my social circle and im so lonely that I needed to write some angst to cope with it all. Hope yall like this one and maybe it'll get a smut part two depending on whether or not I can handle writing that rn lol. Enjoy!
Moose: call me ASAP
Me: sorry Luke. can’t rn
Moose: Awesome 😎
My hands quake with anxiety as I fiddle with the tarnished silver ring adorning my pointer finger. The moisture of my skin eases the movement of turning the ring around my finger. I hiss when the gemstone catches on the skin of my middle finger and immediately drop my hands. 
Currently, I’m staring down at the risky text I just sent Trevor. About an hour ago he had messaged me:
Trev: hey sorry can’t swing tn after all 
Trev: rain check?
My jaw tightens with contempt and I huff out a sigh as my bottom lip trembles. I feel pathetic for just how impacted I am by his every word. I angrily hit the digital keys of my phone’s keyboard as I type my reply.
Me: really? 
Me: again??
Trev: don’t be like that
I’m not the most confrontational person. On any given day some might say I’m the furthest thing from confrontational. To put it rather plainly, I just don’t like it. I hate the way I get anxiety butterflies in my stomach. I hate absorbing the emotions of the other person, especially when rejection is involved. I hate what projections I’m opening myself up to receiving from the other person. There are too many pitfalls and not enough landing pads. Which is why it’s so out of character for me to press him on this.
Me: like what Trev?
This is the third time in a row Trevor has cancelled plans on me. I don’t know if he’s aware of that. I don’t even know what he’s been up to lately. He’s refused to tell me what he’s been doing instead, which didn’t raise my suspicions by any means until mom sent me an article. She knows about how my crush on Trevor has had roots in our childhoods. 
Trev: you know what I’m talking about
After I stopped playing hockey with my brothers, I was still always around to notice Trevor’s presence in our home. When I moved to California for college, I wanted to chase my music dreams but I didn’t realize it would come at the expense of my support system. Being long distance with my family put me in a hard spot, but having a familiar face to rely on made the adjustment easier. As we spent more time together independent of my brothers, Trevor and I became close friends. The problem was my crush has been growing ever since we became friends, hence why mom sent me an article called, “Did Dixie D’Amelio admit to dating Trevor Zegras?”.
Me: at least say it with your chest
Sent. Delivered. I wait. Trevor’s response bubble appears for a second. It disappears, then reappears, then disappears again. I’m about ready to toss my phone across the room when his message delivers.
Trev: call me
I groan out in frustration and this time actually end up chucking my phone onto my bed. I run my hands through my hair, along the warm expanse of my scalp. A self-soothing gesture by all means. I pace to one side of my room before using the momentum of my steps to start back towards my phone. Just as I have it in my hand, Trevor’s contact picture covers the screen and illuminates in my grasp. I scoff out a sort of half groan and then answer.
“What, Trevor?”
“Hey, Y/n I’m great. Thanks for asking! How are you?” He responds sardonically to my cold greeting. I bite my tongue, torn between tearing into him and the stronger desire to laugh through my rage. He takes my exhale as a cue to continue. “What’s going on, Hughesy?”
In a single moment, my anger dissolves. The tenderness of that nickname, which was once reserved solely for my brothers, now belongs to me. In this moment, I find myself thinking about how grateful I am that Trevor was there for me as I transitioned into college. But the looming threat of a smile quickly vanishes as I remember how that care is nullified by Trevor’s abundantly active dating life.
“Y/nnnn?” Trevor hums into the phone.
“What?” I respond dryly.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is you cancelling on me for the third time in a row.”
“Is it really the third time in a row?” He asks under his breath, indicating he may not have intended to say it out loud at all. I roll my eyes, still actively fighting the urge to just lay into him.
“Yes, Trevor, it is!” I can practically hear him wince through the phone at the fact that I’m calling him Trevor instead of the default nickname permanently programmed into my phone. 
“Who’s that?” I hear softly over the phone. My heart flutters like a coal mine parakeet in a cage and I bite my lip, willing myself not to cry if it turns out Dixie is on the other side. Trevor whispers back,
“It’s Y/n.”
“Hey, Y/n!” Mason’s on the other end. 
“Not a good time,” Trevor tells him. Mason curses and then apologizes before retreating from Trevor’s general area. “Sorry, you were saying?” Trevor tells me at regular volume.
“You were cancelling on me again.”
“Oh. Right. I…” he switches the phone to the other ear, “I…don’t know what you want me to say.” Hello?! Could he be any more oblivious?!
“I want you to tell me what is going on!” I whine into the phone, “What is it you’re so busy with doing that you can’t see me for a week, huh? I get that you’re a professional athlete and you have a busy schedule. But I know your schedule and I know you still have a decent amount of free time. So what have you been doing?” Trevor breathes, in, then out and says,
“I’ve been seeing someone lately…” I feel my heart shatter into the tiniest fractals of what it once was and I cover my mouth to choke back the growing lump in my throat.
“I can’t do this right now,” I say with the utmost hurt lacing my voice, pulling the phone away from my ear to abruptly hang up on Trevor. I toss my phone on my bed once more, ignoring how the screen lights up with Trevor’s contact picture. It’s a new breed of psychological torture to sit here and ignore the calls, so I leave my phone in my bedroom as I go to splash cold water on my face. 
When I reenter my bedroom, I ignore the buzzing device to put on a comfortable pair of pajamas. He’s called once, twice, a fourth, and a fifth before finally giving up. Despite my phone being silent, I don’t trust it enough to take it with me and leave it to charge on my bed. I settle on the couch to open my new pint of Ben and Jerry’s, putting on my favorite show in the hopes of laughing through the pain. 
Somewhere between first and second episode, I had dozed off after returning the ice cream to the freezer. I’m not sure what it is about crying that knocks me on my ass like that, all I know is that it works. 
I’m abruptly pulled from my sleep when I hear the harsh banging on my front door. I jump up from the couch, the spike in adrenaline carrying me out of my sleepy haze. When I get to the front door, some of the tiredness catches up with me again and I groggily open the front door. Behind it stands Trevor, with sad puppy eyes and a sheepish expression. I can’t help the scowl that comes to rest on my face when I see him, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he pushes past me to come into the apartment and sits on the couch expectantly. Since there’s no way to physically remove him from my space, I bargain, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, as far from Trevor as I can manage. He doesn’t let the cold gesture phase him, and scooches obliviously into the center of the couch.
“What’s going on Hughsey?” I scoff at the nickname and Trevor cringes in frustration. “What is this?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Why are you icing me out all of a sudden?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, spiteful, with malice. 
“Clearly not since I’m here spending time with you.”
“Was that so hard for you to do? I mean, with your busy schedule and all?”
“What are you-” Trevor pauses for a split second. “Wait, are you… jealous? Y/n?”
I want to protest. I want to scream and rant and bite back, how he could be so conceited to think I’d be jealous of a relationship that I previously thought was rumored? But I can’t. 
Because he’s right.
I bite my tongue. There’s nothing else I can do. Not unless I want to make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have.
“Oh my god, that’s totally it. You’re jealous.” Trevor says, complete with a laugh and a sigh. The shame of actually being jealous of a girl I’ve never met, the disappointment of finding out Trevor is dating someone, and the exhaustion from already having cried earlier comes collapsing down on me at once. Hot tears well on the lining of my lashes and I stare at the ground, afraid to draw attention to myself. Upon seeing me cry, Trevor’s smile immediately vanishes and he scoots closer once more.
“Hey, shhh, it’s okay.” He envelops me in a hug that I’m too overwhelmed to reciprocate. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” 
I merely shake my head, unaware of what I could even say in this moment.
“I was… I was just laughing ‘cause I should’ve known.”
“Should’ve known what?”
“That you’d be jealous.” I wriggle out of the hug and look at Trevor sincerely.
“How would you have known?”
“You know, for as long as I can remember, your brothers have talked about you having a crush on me.” I cower in humiliation, my face glowing hotter than the surface of the sun.
“I wish they wouldn’t have.”
“No?” Trevor asks, genuinely.
“It’s embarrassing,” I confess, fully recoiling from the physical contact he had initiated before. 
“It’s cute.” Trevor earnestly admits as he takes my hand in his. I scoff instinctively but don’t pull my hand away again.
“I don’t need your pity, Trev.” I say so softly he nearly misses the sentiment. Once he processes my worlds, I feel him physically relax next to me at the sound of his familiar nickname.
“Well, what do you need? I’m here now.”
“I honestly don’t know.” I finally dare to meet his eyes. He’s looking at me so sweetly, earnestly. As if I hadn’t just chewed him out two minutes earlier. Then, I look away before I can say what I’m about to say next. “I don’t just like you.” Trevor’s face lifts ever so slightly. The extent of which, one might miss had they not known him a lifetime the way I have.
 “You know… the only reason I started seeing her was to get over you.”
“What?” I ask, sharply whipping my head to stare at Trevor, as if awaiting the reveal that this was just some elaborate prank from the start.
“Yeah. I started dating Dixie because I thought dating someone different would distract me. You know, it’s not a good look to have a crush on your best friend’s little sister.”
My heartrate picks up with his confession. This feels too good to be true. As if real life is waiting for us right outside the front door. The real life that doesn’t see me and Trevor together ever in our lifetimes. Terrified of the change that would occur from letting him walk away, I reach up and hold his face in my hands, kissing him passionately. Trevor wraps his hand around my wrist and kisses me back with twice as much fervor. 
We break apart, out of breath and full of smiles. Trevor looks at me for guidance and we fizzle into a nervous laughter. I reach up and brush my thumb tenderly across his cheekbone. He grabs my hand and turns his head, placing a sweet kiss on my palm. I then reach up and break the moment by ruffling my hand through his hair to mess it up.
“Hey!” He yells, grabbing waist to dig his hands into my sides. I screech with laughter as I try to escape. Trevor eventually yields and slips his hands from my sides to interlace with one another and pull me closer. I scoot in to sit against him, sitting half on top of him as our breathing falls in sync.
“I don’t just like you, too, Hughesy.” I smile.
“...You should probably call Dixie.”
“Oh shit.”
***
A/N: not my best work but not my worst either!
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knifefightscene · 3 days
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Literally i hate it when people reducing not wanting to have children to hating children. I think children deserve to brought up in a better world. And i also don’t want to pass on all the burdens i have to my children. Its a personal choice. But why do ppl act like having children is so revolutionary somehow like you’re changing the world :/ also family influencers annoy me so much. Stop profiting off ur 3 month old.
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