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#can’t wait to see them live in november
localplaguenurse · 10 months
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you’re breathing so i guess you’re still alive
even if signs seem to tell me otherwise
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faggot-friday · 11 months
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dave grohl says nonbinary rights ✨
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gimmeurtmi · 1 year
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no nut november — seungmin (loser #7)
pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader
tags: no nut november mini series, established long term relationship, domestic bliss, ot8 inclusive, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, matching nicknames, bants, breeding kink!!!, talk about babies/having babies, talk about getting pregnant theoretically, mention of birth control and condoms obvs, mention/use of toys, overstimulation, reference to cum as “dirty”, it gets sickingly sweet at some point in the middle, unprotected sex, kink discussion/negotiation
inspo: let’s just say this is self indulgent.
notes: in my defence i have none. also this is the last nnn from me and it’s been the most fun thing to write! i’m so happy so many of you have been enjoying it and i can’t wait to read the last one!!! mwah!
banner by @sluttywonwoo
{ wc: 5623 }
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“So we can’t have sex for a month and then I can take you to that AirBnB your sister recommended,” Seungmin explained. He usually talked about weird things after spending an afternoon with the boys—but this might be a new record.
“I thought you were gonna take me there anyway for New Year’s?” You tilted your head to the side. Seungmin wasn’t one to forget plans you two made.
“I was, I mean—I am,” he corrected quickly, “this way I get to take you twice.”
“You could take me twice without having to play this stupid game,” you offered. He nodded, biting on his lip as he blinked at you—his bangs moving into his eyes.
“You don’t wanna do it? Because I’ll tell them they can go f—“
“—no, I wanna play,” you all but pouted, “if anything it would be funny. I don’t think any of them have dealt with as many tours as us. We’re practically pros at months without sex.”
Seungmin frowned his eyebrows at you, a look between disgust and concern painting his face. However, you weren’t wrong.
You’ve been together for more than two years, the longest in your group of friends and you’ve dealt with a lot of time apart from each other. At first it was hard, and then it got easier, and then it got hard again. But after going through more than three months without seeing your boyfriend in person (twice) you really didn’t even consider one month without sex so big of a challenge. When you explained all that to him, he laughed.
“Yeah, I said to them it can’t be that hard.”
“Well some of them are in their honeymoon phase still, they’re probably going at it like bunnies.”
“Speaking of,” Seungmin said, his face growing serious, “if we lose to Minho I will kill someone.”
“Okay,” you patted his shoulder, “we won’t lose, pups.”
“I don’t care if we do! But just not to him,” he emphasised.
“I’ll remind you of that if you’re ever close to breaking, then,” you nodded dutifully.
“Thanks, bubs,” he said softly, kissing you before he finally pressed play on your nightly Netflix marathon.
One by one Seungmin reported the boys losing. First it was Jisung (which surprised absolutely no one) and then it was Jeongin (which made you sigh in relief that he finally spoke up about his feelings) and then it was Hyunjin.
Just like that, almost two weeks have passed.
You weren’t counting. You only knew it was two weeks because Seungmin came over to help you with the groceries.
You lived alone—or rather, Seungmin lived with you when he was tired of the boys and then went back to them when you were tired of him—and so you didn’t need much in your house. You hadn’t had the chance to do any shopping this week since you mainly ate at work with how busy it was getting closer to the end of the year, and Seungmin finally decided to drag you out when he saw the two week old cartoon of milk still in your fridge.
“I’ll clean the fridge,” he offered since he knew you hated doing it, “and you make the list.”
He pulled the stool in front of the fridge and plopped down, already getting rid of the expired products
“Anything else, boss?” You rolled your eyes at him, but squeezed his shoulder in appreciation nonetheless.
He looked up at you, pursing his lips forward as he scrunched his eyes closed.
You leaned down to kiss him, exaggerating the noises as you rubbed his cheek.
“You’re very cute, pups,” you smiled at him.
“And you’re a slob, bubs,” he countered, showing you the very unappealing looking fruit you left in the drawer.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you brushed him off, sitting on the ground next to him as he worked.
You looked at his concentrated face carefully, taking a moment to appreciate the simplicity you got to enjoy with your boyfriend.
“Stop eye-fucking me,” he said simply.
“I was not doing that! I was just enjoying the domesticness,” you argued.
“That is not a word,” he countered without looking away from his task.
“It’s a feeling though,” you shrugged.
He looked over at you, his judgemental eyes staring you down for only a moment before they softened. “So you were having happy thoughts?”
“Is that allowed?”
“Of course it’s allowed,” he giggled, “I just thought you’d start getting horny soon.”
“And why’s that?” You challenged raising your eyebrows.
“Well, it’s usually two weeks after I leave that you start calling me all desperate,” he explains his logic. You chuckle.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh, baby,” he starts, fingers raised towards his ear in the shape of a phone as his voice raises up to mimic yours, “I miss you so much, I’m so needy, please Minnie,”
“First of all,” you point at him, “I do not sound like that. And second, do I really need to remind you of the time you sexted me from the airplane to America?”
“That was a different situation,” he shrugged.
“How is me missing you after two weeks worse than you getting on the Mile High club by yourself after like four hours apart?”
“I wasn’t by myself, you were with me,” he explained as he closed the fridge.
“I was on the phone,” you counter.
“You were there in spirit. You’re always with me when I touch my dick.”
You blinked at him. “Uh, aww?”
He giggled, finally standing up and offering his hands to you. “Come on, let’s go.”
Walking through the grocery store was a familiar routine with Seungmin. He’d roll the trolley down the aisles as you’d gather the items around, keeping a slow leisurely pace so you wouldn’t have to rush around him. Occasionally he’d roll by something he wanted and grab at it, easily plopping it into the rest of the pile.
You were glad it was getting cold again, because that meant Seungmin wore one of his many oversized hoodies—grabbing the products between his sweater paws.
More than once you had to halt his stroll just to kiss his lips softly.
“You are getting horny,” he commented after the third time.
“I’m not,” you chuckled at him, “you just look very very cute like this.”
“With a hoodie that’s covered in the smell of your old mouldy food?”
You rolled your eyes.
“Can you never just take a compliment?”
“Can you never just take the loss? You got horny first, admit it,”
“I don’t remember that being part of the bet,” you raise your eyebrows at him.
“It was implied,” he shrugged, pushing the trolley down to the cereal aisle.
You decided to seal the bickering with a small slap on his shoulder, to which he naturally replied with sticking his tongue out to you.
When you stopped next to him to place the cereal in the trolley, he kissed your cheek.
“What else?”
“Shampoo,” you directed him towards the toiletry aisle.
There was a new brand on the shelf, and the bottle looked fancy, so you stood for a few minutes as you debated the now new option with your boyfriend.
He tried to explain to you that all of these were the same anyway, they just smell different, but that was of no interest to you. You had to pick the best shampoo.
Seungmin retired from the debate, using his time to try and catch a new Pokémon on his phone.
He rarely played it, and he wasn’t at all invested in the game like his friends were, but you were taking your time and he didn’t want to be too impatient.
When you finally decided to stick to the brand you always used, Seungmin got back to his slow stroll, absentmindedly grabbing a pack of condoms and throwing it in the pile.
“Why?” You chuckled at him.
“Because we’re out,” he deadpanned.
“And the bet?” You squint your eyes at him.
“Oh, shit,” Seungmin chuckles, “sorry, that was an instinct. We don’t need these.”
He picked up the small red pack, carefully placing it back on the shelf.
“I don’t understand why we need them anyway,” you start casually. It was something you thought about recently, when Seungmin stopped everything you were doing because he couldn’t find any condoms in the dorm. He later blamed Felix for that—but you were honestly just thankful for the early night on that particular occasion.
Still, you felt you’ve been together for a long enough time for that to not matter to him as much as it did.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s not like we sleep with other people so I don’t understand why you insist on them so much,” you shrug.
“So, what, I should just get you pregnant then?” He scoffs at you.
You roll your eyes, approaching him with a sigh. You know he knows you take birth control—he’s the one who insisted on having an alarm on his phone too to make sure you don’t forget a day. He knows about your habit of turning off alarms instead of snoozing them.
You also know he knows you didn’t start taking the pills for your sex life but rather to make your periods more regular—but you still thought it might ease his strict view on condoms.
Still, he gave you the perfect opportunity to tease him and so you seize it, in the form of grabbing the front of his hoodie and pouting at him.
“Seungmin, please,” you mock the voice he used before by your fridge, “please put a baby inside me.”
His eyes gap.
“Dumbass,” you push at his shoulders. “You can’t. I’m on birth control and you’re the one who makes sure I never miss one.”
Seungmin remains completely still.
“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” you ruffle his hair before turning your back to him, making your way down the aisle to look for any beauty products on offer.
Once you leave his vicinity, Seungmin lets out a big breath.
He looks down at his crotch, thankful he wore black jeans today as he could feel himself growing harder and harder the more he repeated your words in his head.
You’ve never said anything like that to him before and the more he thought about it, the more he imagined you saying that while he was fucking you and not in front of a million bottles of shampoo. Then he realised he was leaking in his boxers.
When you ran back to him with a happy skip in your step, showing him the lipstick that was half price he simply smiled at you, nodding wordlessly.
As you cuddled up to him when the pair of you got into bed that night—Seungmin still couldn’t get your voice out of his head. He knew himself well and as much as he wanted to blame his body’s reaction on the fact that he simply didn’t cum for two weeks he knew that wasn’t true. It had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the thought of getting to cum inside you.
He never even considered it before—always going by the very important rule that sex should always involve protection, even if it was with the girl he knew he was going to eventually marry. And even when you told him about your birth control he didn’t consider not using condoms anymore an option. It would be dirty that way, and birth control wasn’t a guarantee, and if anything that just meant that you were using one more method of protection.
But now—his mind didn’t care how dirty it was. All he wanted was to feel you raw.
He wanted to make you beg for his cum, he wanted to make you say that again, tell him to put a baby inside you. Then he wanted to push you more, fuck you so many times your pussy was too full of his cum that he could barely keep his dick inside you.
He was fully hard now.
He groaned silently to himself, willing his brain to stop thinking about this and focus on literally anything else.
At least you were already sleeping—or else you’d be teasing him endlessly about being the one to actually get horny first.
Changbin. Chan. Felix.
“And Minho?” You asked, almost hopefully after Seungmin recalled the traumatic evening of Felix losing.
“No way,” Seungmin clicked his tongue, “that menace is strong.”
You knew from Minho’s girlfriend that they were definitely not having sex—but with barely a week left you wanted him to just break already so Seungmin would go back to normal.
Just like you didn’t expect Felix to last as long as he did, you didn’t expect Seungmin to not even help you cum.
Changbin’s now girlfriend was practically gloating when she retold the story to you at the last game night. All about how “giving” Changbin was before he officially lost.
You also heard from Han’s girlfriend.
It was the only time you hated how close you girls were—having to hear from each one of them how great they were all doing in that department. But it was okay. They’ll all see the Instagram posts from your romantic retreat and that would be your victory.
Still, whenever you asked Seungmin if he could at least touch you he stopped kissing you—saying he knew he wouldn’t control himself if he did that. At first you tried teasing him about it, but it stopped being fun when he simply said no and wouldn’t even tease you back.
There was only one occasion in which he indulged you, sometime before Chan lost, when he walked in on you taking care of the problem by yourself.
“I bought you that dildo for when I’m away, not when I’m in the next room practising,” he tried scolding you, but it wasn’t at all intimidating when his eyes didn’t leave your pussy once.
“Pups, I’m sorry but I’m desperate,” you whined, getting increasingly annoyed at the interruption.
“What about us being in it together? If I can’t cum you shouldn’t be allowed to either,” he tried.
You scoffed.
“You need me,” he added, realising his first argument did not take.
“The only thing I need you for is to make a baby. Other than that I can do everything by myself,” you smiled innocently.
You expected Seungmin to say a variety of things, knowing him so well you practically predicted his retorts before he said them. But you did not expect him to growl at you before he rushed onto the bed, grabbing your chin and kissing you until you couldn’t breath.
At one point he grabbed the dildo from you and fucked you with it until you came more times than you could count.
He made no smug remarks afterwards, just took care of you and then he went for a very long walk.
After that, Seungmin spent most nights at the dorm.
November 30th
You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend as he entered your apartment, bringing the cold air in with him.
“Pups, your face is freezing!” You yelped, before bringing your hands onto his cheeks to warm him up.
Seungmin showed his gratitude by trying to lick your hands.
You kicked his leg lightly before you ushered him inside, sitting him down on the couch.
“Order what you want,” you told him, handing over your phone as you brought your blanket out into the living room.
You didn’t even need to verbalise Seungmin was staying over tonight. You both knew as soon as the clock hit midnight (five hours to go) he would take you for as long and as hard as he could—just like he did whenever he’d come back home after a long time apart.
So until then you’d watch a movie, and maybe talk a bit, and maybe kiss until it was time.
“Done,” he said as the food order was confirmed.
“Oh! I’ll be right back!” You clapped enthusiastically, retreating to your room to grab the very important item still in your possession.
Seungmin squinted his eyes at you when he noticed you were hiding something behind your back—while failing to hide the grin on your face.
When you sat down beside him, grin unstoppable, you eagerly handed him the laminated coupon you saved for this very moment.
One Seungmin Serenade - to be redeemed monthly (T&Cs apply)
Said T&Cs were written on the back in Seungmin’s handwriting, such as “bubs cannot record them” and “don’t ask the same song twice” and “i’m not learning a new song for you” and “if you ask for one after redeeming this then you get no serenades at all don’t test me” and “one (1) additional coupon available on your birthday because i’m nice and unfortunately i love you”.
Seungmin groaned when he saw the ticket, grabbing it from your hands quickly.
“I was really hoping you forgot about it this month,”
“No, I was saving it for this very day,” you grinned.
“I hate that you laminated it,” he shook his head, “you’re a dork.”
“Perhaps,” you shrugged, “but you’re contractually obliged to sing for this dork.”
“You don’t look like PD nim to me,” he raised his eyebrows at you.
“Pups,” you said, as seriously as you could master, “this was your idea.”
“I thought it was stupid enough for you to not agree,” he defended.
“Then you underestimated just how far I’ll go to hear you sing.”
“Let me introduce you to an amazing app,” he said, pulling his phone out and tapping around it, “its called Spotify and if you search Stray K—“
“Kim Seungmin!”
His mouth gapped lightly.
“Not my legal name,” he muttered as he turned the coupon around in his hand.
“As the girlfriend I shouldn’t even have to use your dorky coupon idea and you should sing me to sleep every night—“
“—doesn’t work that way—“
“—you did that when we started dating,” you protested.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “to get in your pants. And after that worked I no longer need to do it every night.”
You slapped his chest, laughing as you said, “do you wanna go another full month, Kim Seungmin?”
“Why are you full naming me?”
“Honour my coupon!” You shoved at his shoulders, biting back your smile as Seungmin’s own smile took over his face.
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed your hands, stopping you from shaking him any longer, “pick your song.”
“Ghost,” you smirked.
“Ahh,” he pointed his finger at you, smirking right back, “you picked that in August so you can’t pick it again.”
“But I have this,” you raised your eyebrows for a moment, revealing one more coupon.
Free Pass - allows bubs to break a rule
“You can’t just make your own free pass!” He scoffed.
“Turn it over,” you all but wink.
Free Pass - allows pups to ask for anything
“Anything?” He blinked at you. “Like, sexual or..?”
“It can be sexual, if I’m comfortable with it,” you nod.
“No, yeah, of course.” Seungmin stared at the card, chuckling lightly when he sees the heart above the i.
“I can use it tonight?” You nod. “Okay. Then Ghost.”
Seungmin opens his phone, finding a karaoke video of the song. You place your head on his lap, like it always is when he sings to you, and close your eyes.
His voice surrounds you, his fingers in your hair, his stomach moving against your head as he takes in deep breathes before the higher notes.
When the song is over and the silence takes over the room again you lift your head up from his lap, wordlessly climbing into it as you wrap your arms around him.
His voice always makes you emotional, especially when he sings only for you, so he’s used to the Koala like hold you have on him once he’s done singing.
He simply rubs your back, indulging in the feeling of you so close as you calm down.
He isn’t used to what you say next.
“Pups?”
“Mhm?”
“When we have a baby will you sing them to sleep every night?”
He coughs. “Not every night. I’m not a wind up monkey.”
Good cover, he thinks to himself, but it’s taking every muscle in his body to calm his heart from how fast it’s beating.
“I’ll give you a baby and you can’t sing the poor thing to sleep?”
Focus.
“I think I need to give you a baby first,” he chuckled, swallowing as soon as the words leave his mouth. Wrong this to say, he knows, because now his dick is very interested in the conversation.
You notice instantly.
“Sorry, am I too close?” You offer, lifting one of your legs up to climb off his lap. Seungmin stops you quickly.
“No, no, it’s fine.”
“There’s only a few hours left, pups,” you smile, kissing his jaw softly.
“We’ll eat and then watch whatever you want and then officially win this bet,” he smiles back, rubbing his thumbs against your hips, “sounds good, bubs?”
You nod.
“Then we can start working on that baby you won’t sing for,” you roll your eyes dramatically—just in case your boyfriend doesn’t get that you’re joking.
“W-what?” Seungmin swallows, his mouth completely dry now and he doesn’t think it’s from the singing.
“I was joking,” you say quickly. “I’m still on birth control.”
“Yes, I know you’re on birth control, Y/N,” he shakes his head.
“Not my legal name,” you mock him.
He squeezes your hips as he looks down between your bodies, trying his hardest not to roll you against him.
“Can we, uh, I wanna,” he huffs, “let me tell you what I wanna use my pass for now just in case you’re not comfortable with it.”
“Okay,” you let the subject change slide.
Until you realise it’s not a subject change at all.
“Since when do you have a breeding kink?” You ask him once he tells you what it is he wants.
“It’s not a breeding kink,” he shakes his head at you.
“Pups, you want me to beg you for a baby while having sex. That is literally the definition.”
“I don’t want a baby now, I just wanna fuck you raw,” he tried to downplay it, he isn’t even sure why. Seungmin knows you aren’t judging him, you never do, but he never wanted something so badly before—and you saying no might actually drive him crazy. He wants to be gentle about this.
“Fine then be more specific,” you try, “do you just want to try it with no condom or do you actually want me to say the words?”
“The words,” he confesses slowly.
“And what words exactly?” You try, wanting to make sure you get his wish right. “Is it just ‘put a baby in me’ or is it like ‘I want your cum’ or something different like ‘paint my cunt’—“
“—shut the fuck up, Y/N,” he groans loudly, lifting his hips off the couch eagerly as his head falls back. He squeezed the top of your thighs incredibly tight.
“Right. So all of the above,” you note with a nod.
Just as Seungmin is certain he’s going to drag your body against his cock the doorbell rings, making you lift off him easily as you grab the food from the delivery man.
You calmly grab the food out the bags, grabbing plates and cutlery as you distribute the food between the plates.
Seungmin gets up from the couch and walks straight towards you.
“You’ll get the food in a sec, pups,” you chuckle at him.
Seungmin grabs your hands, halting your movements as he takes a step closer to you.
“Can we eat later?”
“Like, after the movie?” You blink at him.
“No,” he says, eyes dark and focused on you. It sends a chill down your legs. “After I fuck a baby into you.”
“Minnie,” you sigh, unable to ignore the way you felt his words deep in your core, “it’s almost nine. Do you really wanna lose so close to the end?”
“I don’t care,” he starts, grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards, allowing him to plant open kisses on your skin.
“But Minho—“
“—don’t care,” he mumbles into your skin.
“You specifically told me to remind you how you don’t wanna lose to him,” you try, although you aren’t sure what you’re fighting for anymore.
Sure it was Seungmin’s idea, but the thought of him fucking you raw was really fucking hot—and seeing him getting extremely desperate over it was enough to make your panties stick to your body with the wetness now coating them. It didn’t help that you last had sex thirty one days ago.
Still, were you really going to let him give up with so little time left?
“And now I’m specifically telling you to take your clothes off and let me.. what was it… paint your cunt.”
Yeah. You were going to let him give up with so little time left.
You crash your lips into his, swallowing both your moans into the kiss as the pair of you manoeuvre around your flat until you find the bedroom.
It doesn’t matter that you crash into a wall once or twice, or that Seungmin practically jams the doorknob into your back, because soon enough you fall onto the bed with him on top of you, pulling your clothes off like you’re the first sign of water he’s seen after a month in the desert.
Your hands tangle in his hair as you keep kissing—teeth clashing against his braces.
“Ow, fuck,” you groaned, pushing at his shoulders.
Seungmin understood what you needed, lifting himself up by his forearms.
“Let’s slow down for like two seconds,” you sighed, breathing in deeply. He nods, kissing your cheek softly before he takes a moment to catch his breath as well.
You look over at the clock behind him. 21:24.
“Are you sure?” You ask one more time.
“Ask me again and you don’t get to cum tonight at all,” Seungmin said, far too simply.
You groaned.
“Fine, but if I hear you bitch about losing to him once—“
“—mention Minho again and the same applies,” he dips his head between your breasts, wasting no time as he wraps his lips around your nipple. You whine softly, bringing your hands around his neck as you trail your nails up into his hair.
He hums against your bud before he pulls away with a small pop, trailing kisses down your stomach.
“Minnie, skip the fucking foreplay and just fuck me,” you groan. He looks up at you with a smirk but says nothing, instead pulling down his boxers.
You reach out for his dick, wrapping your hand around it and you both moan at the feeling. He’s heavy in your hand, and so warm, and you instantly pull him closer to you, aligning the tip with your entrance.
“You’re fucking eager,” he comments, having the audacity to tease you when you both know he’s the one who lost his patience.
You can’t even think of a rebuttal as he sinks all the way inside you.
You both breath heavily as you adjust to the familiar stretch, Seungmin’s eyes scrunched shut. You know better than to say anything, already feeling him twitch against your walls.
After a few moments he starts moving, much slower than you’d like, eyes still shut.
“This won’t be impressive,” he warns you, already losing his rhythm as his jaw clenchs visibly.
“It’s okay, baby,” you say softly, rubbing his shoulder, “we’ll use the vibe later if you need. Just want you to cum inside me first.”
“Don’t—“ he groans loudly, “—don’t fucking say that or I will seriously cum right now.”
“I won’t judge you for that at all,” you say sweetly, kissing his jaw as he moves closer to you, “this is the first time you’ve felt my cunt raw, Minnie, it’s okay if you lose your mind over how good it feels.”
“Your cunt feels so good like this,” he moans loudly, “so fucking warm.”
You moan at his praise. “Imagine how warm it’ll feel with your cum coating my walls.”
And that’s all it takes for him to groan loudly, pushing in impossibly deeper as you feel his dick twitching inside you—the warm feeling settling deep inside your stomach as he cums.
It’s a lot, his orgasm crashing into him so quickly, and he all but crashes on top of you, his dick still buried inside you.
You kiss his forehead as he calms down, his breath fanning against your chest.
As soon as it starts to even out you open your mouth to speak, to reassure him that you didn’t mind how fast that was, but a yelp replaces whatever words you came up with when Seungmin shoots up and reaches for the drawer in your nightstand.
He easily pulls out your favourite vibe—the one he bought you for your first Valentine’s Day as a couple—and with no warning he presses the toy against your clit.
He’s still inside you and with the vibrations against you, your moans leave you without you even noticing. Soon, Seungmin starts thrusting into you again slowly.
“There you go, beautiful,” he says, eyes fixed on the toy, “gonna let me fuck my cum deeper into you?”
“Fuck, Minnie,” you whine, “baby, please.”
He chuckles cockily, his confidence always skyrockets when he hears you beg for him. He flicks his wrist, moving the vibe from side to side quickly as he slows down his thrusts.
His cock reaches deep inside you, nudging against your most sensitive spot, your wetness and his allowing him to slip in and out so incredibly easily. When he leans down to suck on your collarbone you whine out.
“I’m close, I’m close,” you start chanting, so he turns the setting up on the vibrator—grinning as you all but scream in response.
“Go on, my love, I got you,” he encourages, and with one final deep thrust your walls clench around him tightly.
Seungmin doesn’t pull out, nor does he move the vibrator away from your clit, and after your second orgasm in a row you let out a strangled moan from the overstimulation.
“Off, off, off,” you squirmed, causing your boyfriend to quickly move the toy away from you and turn it off.
Everything around you is sticky and sweaty and wet—the mess between your thighs started to leak a long time ago, pooling on the sheets.
Seungmin planted kisses on your temple, slowly, giving you the time you needed to calm down from the pleasure.
The aftershock of two orgasms made your walls practically flutter, clenching around Seungmin a few times. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as he sighed deeply.
“Bubs, you have no fucking idea how good this feels,” he mumbled against your skin.
“Yeah,” you sigh, running your fingers up and down his back soothingly. “It’s a little weird, but it’s also really hot that I can feel it inside me.”
“Yeah,” he kisses your neck. “Wanna keep going?”
You decided whatever Seungmin asked for you’d give him. You decided that the night you realised you loved him, but you decided that all over again when he kept asking if you could keep going—insisting on making you cum at least twice after each one of his, growing fascinated by the way his cum would spill out of your cunt as you came down from your high.
After the fourth round, Seungmin finally tapped out.
He crashed on his back, hand tangled around your shoulders as he filled his lungs with as much air as he could get.
“Holy shit, Minnie,” you chuckle breathlessly.
“Holy shit indeed,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s the best sex we ever had.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you laugh.
You use the very little strength you have to reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
The silence takes over the room when even your breathing becomes quieter—so quiet, in fact, that Seungmin knows you’ve fallen asleep.
“Hey, hey!” He shook your intertwined hands. “Wake up!”
“No,” you mumbled back.
“We have to shower after all that, bubs, wake up.”
“No,” you whined, “sleep.”
“Bubs, there’s cum everywhere. We need to change the sheets and clean you out and drink,” he reminded you, squeezing your hand. He leaned over, carefully, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Eventually you listen to your boyfriend and get up, cleaning yourself and the bed and finally eating the food you ordered. Your hand never leaves his, locked together tightly, as that is the one thing Seungmin asked for as his aftercare and you always made sure to give him exactly that.
When you finally get back into your clean bed—sometime before four in the morning—Seungmin mumbled angrily to himself.
“I’ll tell him tomorrow and that smug asshole can get his stupid win,” he seethes.
“Okay, puppy,” you chuckle at him. The only thing you could think about was the pleasure still tingling around your body, how you’ve known each other for so long and somehow he still managed to surprise you tonight with his stamina, about how hot that all was. But Seungmin was still thinking about the competition.
He kissed your lips sweetly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thanks for trying that out with me.”
“It was incredible, baby,” you grinned at him, “thanks for getting so horny over the thought of it all.”
Seungmin groaned in response.
When Seungmin woke up around midday he reached for his phone, checking the time. And maybe a part of him was relieved to finally see December on that date.
There were a few notifications waiting for his attention, but he opened the group chat first.
He sighed heavily when he read over Chan’s text that came in at six in the morning, knowing he sent it before he went to sleep and definitely not because he woke up early.
Bang Chan: so who won?
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wh0re43van · 5 months
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Boyfriend (Warren Lipka X Reader)
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Summary: you reunite with an old friend while making a delivery for your shitty boyfriend
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: smut, throat fucking, weed, cheating, not proof read
A/n: I have no idea how much weed costed in 2003 bc I was two years old. Also, I apologize if your name is Chelsea bc you will be slandered in this fic. Thank you for reading! <3
Pt 2 , Pt 3
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I slam my boyfriends shitty car door, stepping out into the cold November rain, running towards the brick house, an 8th of weed shoved in my bra. I can’t believe my idiot boyfriend is too lazy to get out of his car to make his delivery. I’ve never even met this customer and his dumbass is having me waltz right up this random man’s house, while he’s parked a block away.
I pound on the wooden door before stepping back a bit. I shift back and forth on my feet as I rub my hands up and down on my arms trying to warm myself with the friction. After a couple of minutes, the door swings open, a man with unkempt brown hair and tired eyes steps out, looking a bit surprised. Those eyes. I know them. I cant put my finger on it, but I know him from somewhere.
“Uhm can I help you? Are you alright?” he asks, stepping out onto the porch closing the door behind him, looking me up and down, maybe trying to figure out why some strange girl is stood sopping wet on his doorstep, or maybe he recognizes me as well.
“Of course that dumbass didn’t tell you,” I sigh. “I’m delivering for Dakota,” I explain, pulling the plastic baggie out of my bra.
“Ah, okay,” he opens the door again, ignoring my hand offering the weed. “Why don’t you come in, get out of the cold?” he offers, holding the door open for me. I consider his offer; He seems kind, and he doesn’t appear to have the money on him anyway. I might as well wait inside while he retrieves it before I catch my death out here.
“Thank you,” I smile, stepping into the warm living room, part of me hoping that Dakota can see me going into the random man’s house. He leads me down to the basement, explaining that this is his bedroom.
“Make yourself at home,” he smiles, showing two familiar dimples on either cheek as he gestures to his couch. I smile back, happily taking a seat. He walks into the bathroom, coming back with a towel in his hand.
“Did you go to Tates Creek Highschool by chance?” he asks, offering me the grey bath towel.
“I did,” I smile. “Only for freshman year though, my family moved the next county over after that,” I explain. That must be where I know him from.
“Y/n, I thought that was you,” he smiles taking a seat next to me.
“Yeah,” I smile back. “You look familiar, but I’m sorry I can’t remember your name,” I blush, a bit embarrassed that I don’t remember him.
“Ouch,” He chuckles. “I thought getting detention together for stealing the teachers’ cigarettes would have been a bit more memorable,” he says, leaning back on the couch. Then it dawns on me.
“Warren?” I ask, shocked. “Little Warren Lipka?” I turn on the couch to face him, getting a better look- the best look I can get in the dim yellow lighting. I don’t believe it! He laughs at my reaction.
“I guess if you remember me as little Warren, I can see why you didn’t recognize me,” he says, reaching for his grinder and papers laying on the coffee table. “You got that 8th, beautiful?” he asks casually. I blush at the comment, pulling the weed out of my bra once again. I hand him the warm baggie.
“That’ll be 7 bucks, sir,” I grin. All the memories come flooding back to me when our hands touch as we exchange the substance for the cash. All the classes we skipped together, all the many hours in detention we spent alongside each other, the cigarettes that we would smoke under the bleachers. He was shorter than me then, he always had his hair buzzed and wore oversized clothes to hide his small frame. I guess he was a late bloomer, because the only remnants of that little boy are the deep brown eyes and dimples displayed like artwork on the handsome grown man in front of me.
“You look really good,” he breaks me out of my thoughts, sparking the joint he’s just rolled.
“Thank you,” I smile. He passes me the paper. I take a hit. “You look good yourself,” I exhale through my nose, handing the joint back to warren.
“So you’re a friend of Dakotas?” He asks, after sucking in a breath of smoke as he stretches his arm over the back of the couch and behind my shoulders.
“His girlfriend, actually,” My response catches him off guard, making him choke on the smoke.
“Holy shit,” he laughs in between coughs. “How the hell did that goon bag you?” he asks, flabbergasted. I can’t help but giggle, taking another drag off the joint.
“Sometimes I wonder the same thing,” I answer honestly. Dakota isn’t exactly the best boyfriend in the world. We’ve been dating almost two years and I’ve caught him with other girls multiple times. He doesn’t respect my boundaries or my aspirations, yet somehow, he always convinces me to stay. I guess when you’re as attractive as he is and as insecure as I am, it isn’t hard for him to convince me that he’s the best I’ll ever have.
“So what’s wrong with Dakota? Why couldn’t he make the delivery himself?” Warren asks, looking down at the joint between his lips as it glows crimson. “Not that I’m complaining,” he clarifies.
“He said he was tired and didn’t want to get his shoes wet,” I laugh, feeling the THC start to take effect. “Can you believe that?” I ask, laying a hand on warrens thigh in my fit of giggles. “He’s just sitting in his shit box a block away,” I say, feeling my eyelids begin to get heavy. Warren raises his eyebrows, looking at me with glossy eyes.
“Wow,” he scoffs. “I actually don’t believe that. I couldn’t imagine having your girl make deliveries for you. Thats some serious pussy shit,” he rolls his eyes, holding the joint up to my mouth. I take a hit from the hot paper between his fingers. I look down at the spliff, then back at him to find his eyes already fixed on me. “If I was your boyfriend, I wouldn’t let you make deliveries for me,” he says in a much quieter tone, the moment is almost intimate as I blow the smoke into his face that’s closer to mine than I realized, but I can’t bring myself to back away. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t want you smoking with me,” he adds, bringing the joint to his lips to take the final hit.
“Why’s that?” I ask in a whisper with butterflies in my stomach, breathing in the smoke that’s slowly rolling off his lips.
“Because it gives me the opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do since freshman year,” he matches my tone, glancing at my lips, bringing his finger and thumb around my chin, tilting my head up towards him. My heart begins to race at his proximity, I know I should pull away from him, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Just as his lips barely brush against mine, my Nokia rings out, sounding like an alarm, making me jump in surprise, scrabbling to find the small cellphone on the couch.
“Hey babe,” Warren answers the phone, winking at me. My stomach drops. Fuck. I reach for the phone, but warren stands up. “Nah man she’s good she’s right here. I just gave her the mon- hey. Hey!” I hear warren begin to shout. I cease my struggle to grab the phone. “Is there a fucking problem man?” Warren seethes into the phone. I hear my boyfriend’s muffled speech. “Yeah, I didn’t fuckin think so,” he hangs up the phone, handing the small plastic brick to me.
“You look pretty stoned,” he says picking up a coat off the couch, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Let me walk you out. You remember where his car is?” he asks, putting his hand on the small of my back, ushering me to the steps. I nod my head yes, staring at him with wide eyes trying to process what just happened.
“Lead the way then, beautiful,” he grins, and just like that, the butterflies are back. I don’t dare respond, not knowing what will come out of my mouth.
The walk to Dakota’s car is silent but comfortable, still pretty baked, I feel the rain coming down in sheets. vibrating calmly in my bones. I stare up at the orange glow of the streetlights in the night sky in awe. Everything looks so beautiful when you’re high.
“Here he is,” Warren says approaching the small rust bucket of a car that my boyfriend drives. He opens the passenger door for me. After I’m seated, he leans in to look at Dakota. “Don’t have your girl make trips for you anymore, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says calmly but it comes across like a threat, before tossing a couple folded bills at Dakota and closing the door. I’m glad he remembered the money. Dakota would have killed me if I had left it down there.
 My boyfriend is quiet. Much more quiet than he normally is when someone threatens his masculinity. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s scarred of Warren.
As Dakota pulls off, his Insane Clown Posse CD playing quietly, I look out the side mirror to see warren standing with his hands in his pockets, getting soaked in the rain in nothing other than his t-shirt and jeans, watching me ride away. As Dakota begins to bitch and complain my ear, all I can think about is when ill see Warren again, then I remember; I have his coat. It would be rude of me to keep it. I’ll just have to return it to him.
It’s been a week since my interaction with Warren, and I can’t stop thinking about him.
‘Is it so wrong that I want to catch up with an old friend?’ I ask myself. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with visiting a friend, the issue lies in the fact that the thoughts I’m having of him aren’t exactly platonic.
‘I’ll just drop his coat off, thanking him for the kind gesture and be on my way.’ I tell myself as I climb into my car. ‘Okay, maybe I could make some small talk with him, that’s innocent enough. Yeah, ill ask him about his job, if he’s going to school now, stuff like that’ I manage to convince myself that this will be a short, polite visit with an old friend, but a part of me must know the truth because I tell Dakota that I’m going out with my mother for lunch.
I park my vehicle on a side street near the Lipka house, just in case Dakota drives down here for whatever reason. I grab Warrens coat and walk up to the porch.
‘Maybe he’s not home and I’ll just hand it to his parents,’ I think as I knock on the door. The thought disappoints me, but maybe it’s for the b-
“Y/n!” Warren exclaims as the door swings open. “What a pleasant surprise,” he crunches on a Cheeto, crinkling the bag as he folds it shut.
“Hey Warren,” I smile at the man standing in front of me while he licks the Cheeto dust off his fingers.
“Come in, its freezing,” he steps aside so I can enter. I frown a bit.
“Well, actually I’m just here to return your coat,” I hold out the slick material.
“How kind,” he flashes his dimples. “Are you in a rush?” He asks as he retrieves his jacket.
“Well, no…” I trail off, trying to think of an excuse, but its hard to excuse yourself from something you want more than anything else.
“Then come inside real quick, darling, just to warm up,” he winks at me and I cant help but giggle. I surrender, stepping into his warm home once again,and following him down to his room.
I sit down on his couch as Invader Zim plays on his box tv.
“This may be a bold assumption,” Warren starts as he sits down on the cushion next to me. “But I think you may have come back for something more than the raincoat,” he suggests, looking into my eyes.
“Warren-“ I begin, but I don’t know what to say. He’s right. I want to desperately finish what we almost started last week. Just the faint brushing of his lips against mine has made me feel something I’ve never experienced before. I need to feel him-
“Free weed, right?” He grins picking up the rolling tray.
Oh.
 I can’t help but blush. I thought for a moment that Warren had already forgotten about our last encounter, but the wink he sends my way suggests that he meant exactly what I thought he meant.
“It’s not often that I don’t have to match,” I admit, pulling my legs up to my chest.
“You mean with friends, right?” Warren asks before he licks the thin rolling paper, holding my gaze as his tongue slowly slides across the wrap.
“Uh,” my breath hitches in my throat. Damn he looks so good. I’ve never wanted to be a rolling paper so bad in my life. “No, I mean in general. Dakota says he’s, uhm, running a business. So I have to pay or match what I smoke every time we, uh, spark. Or else I’m stealing from him,” I mutter out. Warren smirks at the pink raising in my cheeks once again. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Thank God he can’t see the pool forming in my underwear.
“No offense y/n,” he sparks the joint, inhaling a hit of hot smoke. “But Dakotas pathetic,” he breaths out.
“None taken,” I laugh as I take the paper from his hand.
“I mean for more than just the way he treats you,” he explains as I pass the joint back to him. “I’ve known him for a while. We met through a mutual friend, a few years ago. Started smoking together, then started dealing together and breaking into the chain stores around here, ya know, the ones that just throw shit away while people are starving,” he begins to explain as he sinks into the couch, leaning his head back, blowing a cloud of smoke towards the drop ceiling tiles of his bedroom. I stare at him, taking another hit, hanging on to his every word. I could listen to his voice all day. “Soon he started shorting people on weed, over charging behind my back, he was jealous of how well I was doing, always trying to one up me, bragging about how he’s making more money than me, not caring how he achieved it. Then one night, he decided he was going to try and break into a store by himself, of course he chose the corner store down the street, the one owned by the little old lady,” he chuckles. “I beat the shit out of him as soon as I found out,” he takes a hit. “Pussy didn’t throw a single punch back. Just curled up on the ground. Worst part is; he didn’t even get anything. She chased him off with a broom,” he runs a hand through his long brown hair, finally looking at me as he hands me the spliff.
“Wow, I guess that’s why he seemed so scared the other day,” I giggle. I should feel bad, this guy just told me he beat my boyfriend up, but I almost want to thank him.
“That’s also why I get a discount,” he grins as smoke rolls out of his nostrils. “But for once,” he leans in closer to me. “I’m jealous of him,” I can feel his breath on my face. “Seeing you ride off in that car with him last week was painful to watch. You should have been right here with me,” he pushes a loose strand of hair out of my face, and I melt into his touch.
“Well,” I take in a shaky breath, unable to resist those coffee-colored eyes. “I’m here now, Warren.” And with that, the world ceases to spin as he crashes his lips into mine. I’m suddenly aware of my quick heartbeat, every ounce of blood flowing throw my veins, the electricity that shoots from Warrens hands into my body. The smell of smoke on his breath and the slightly stale air in the basement invades my senses. The kiss is desperate and hungry; something I haven’t felt in years. I moan into his mouth as he pulls me into his lap to straddle him.
“This is wrong, Warren,” I pull away reluctantly.
“No beautiful, it was wrong when he called me asking for Chelsea’s contact last month,” he pants. The mention of that whores name makes my blood boil. She’s his most recent side piece. “Had I known he was with you, I would have beat his ass again instead of sending it,” he says honestly, as his hand runs gently up my hip. My mind is made up in an instant. I take the joint out of his hand, inhaling one last hit before I set it in the ash tray. I slide down to the floor on my knees in between his legs before I take my sweater off, tossing it to the side.
“You’re right,” I grin as I reach for his buckle. The pop of the metal releasing ringing through my ears as I shimmy the jeans off his body. I look up at Warren through my lashes, his eyes wide staring down at me with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. The sight makes my core tingle.
“May I?” I ask palming him through his plaid boxers, feeling his dick stiffen under my touch.
“I insist,” he grins, helping me slide the boxers off. My eyes widen at his length in front of me. He’s perfect. I take him into my hand, holding his gaze as I let spit drip from my kiss bruised lips onto his tip, allowing me to stroke him easier. He curses under his breath as I move my hand up and down his now rock hard dick. I smile to myself before wrapping my mouth around his tip, slowly moving down his length until he hits the back of my throat, then I hollow out my cheeks, as I begin to bob up and down. Warren lifts his head to take in the sight below him. He rests a gentle hand on the back of my head.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he groans, instinctively moving his hips in rhythm with my head. I hum in response as I bring my other hand underneath his length to massage his balls, earning a low moan from him.
Soon he takes over, holding my head as he thrusts into my mouth. I push him in as far as possible, gagging on his length. He stands up so he can properly fuck my throat. This isn’t something that I normally do, I never allow Dakota to use me like this. But right now, I think I would let warren do absolutely anything he desires, and I would enjoy every second of it. This is the first time I’ve ever been so turned on from pleasing someone else. My underwear is soaked my arousal and he’s barely touched me. The praise and moans coming from Warren is enough to get me off. The way his eyes peer into mine as he violates my throat, bringing a gentle thumb up to wipe the tears that creep out of my eyes makes my heart flutter.
“Come here baby,” Warren pulls out of my mouth, I gasp for air as he picks my up to carry me to his bed. He pulls his shirt over his head and asks permission to pull my pants off. I nod quickly, earning a chuckle from him. “You did so good for me,” he lays a kiss on my forehead, using his shirt to wipe the tears and spit from my face, I smile at the sweet gesture. He pulls me into a kiss after climbing on top of me, both of us now completely naked. Warrens hand wonders down to my heat, dipping a finger into my entrance, I whimper at the contact. “You really got off to me fucking your throat, huh?” He smiles against my lips, feeling how wet I am for him.
“Please just fuck me Warren,” I beg. He smirks as he lines himself up with me.
“You ready, beautiful?” He asks. I nod, impatiently scooting closer to him, begging for contact. He chuckles as he slowly pushes into me. Being stretched out has never felt so good. There’s almost no pain as I easily take him, a loud moan escapes my lips
“Shh,” he smirks as he continues to push into me, stifling his own moans. “My folks are upstairs baby, not so loud,” he explains.
“I’m sorry,” I giggle. “You just feel so fucking go-“ I cut myself off with another loud moan as he begins rocking his hips at a steady pace. I clamp my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. Warren looks down at me as he he pounds into me, a hand reaching down to hold my breast’s that are moving in rhythm with his hips.
“God, you’re so stunning,” he praises as he uses his other hand to push his curls out of his face. The sight of Warren on top of me is something that I never want to forget. If this is the last time he has his way with me, I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. His hungry eyes that take the time to admire every inch of my body. The way his hair bounces as his cock pounds deeper inside me than anyone has ever been.
Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as he lays down beside me.
“Come here darling,” he rests his back on the head board as he pulls me on top of him. “I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me baby,” he asks as he lays sloppy kisses on my neck. I giggle in response as I straddle him, happily allowing him to fill me once again. I let out a moan of relief as that void in my stomach is satisfied.
“Fuck,” Warren grunts. “You take me so well, beautiful,” he whispers as I bounce up and down on his cock. I lean forward to kiss him, muffling the moans coming from both of us. I move my hips in unison with his as his hand grips onto my ass spreading me open so he can pound as deep in me as possible. Im positive he’s leaving fingernail makes in the soft skin, but I don’t dare stop him. Warren reaches a finger down to rub circles on my clit, giving me just what I need to approach my release.
“Fuck,” I moan into our desperate, wet kiss. “Just like that Warren please,” I beg. Feeling my body heat up and my swollen cunt begin to throb. As Warren thrusts exactly where I need him, I come undone around him as I erupt in a fit of moans and praises. The euphoria quickly filling my body as my release drips onto Warrens twitching dick. He quickly throws me off of him, cum shooting up onto my chest and on to his stomach. I swiftly dip my head down, bringing him into my mouth to milk every last drop out of him.
“Fuck y/n!” He moans in surprise. Now it’s his turn to cover his mouth as he rides out his orgasm. I pull away to lay next to Warren, our chests heaving in unison.
“Holly shit,” he laughs after few minutes of comfortable silence. “That was…you were…wow,” he turns his head to smile at me, already looking at him.
“I can say the same to you,” I giggle, running my hand over his chest. He brings me in for one last kiss, this one gentle and kind.
“You can use my shower if you’d like, I’ve made quite the mess of you,” he smirks.
“Thank you,” I smile standing up. “Uhm, we’re definitely not going to tell Dakota about this, right?” I ask, suddenly feeling… not guilty… but nervous and almost excited in a strange way.
“My lips are sealed, beautiful,” he winks, taking my hand to guide me to his bathroom.
942 notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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no nut november — bang chan (loser #5)
pairing: bang christopher chan x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, suggested choking, one (1) bite
a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i’s collab <3
word count: 3.2k
series masterlist
You’re fine with the No Nut November thing, Chan thinks. That’s what you told him when he explained the whole thing to you at the beginning of the month. You’d thought it was dumb, of course, but you were supportive as always. 
The only thing is, you haven’t been around much since the start of the month. Chan isn’t sure if you’re trying to give him space so that he can win his little bet, or if you’re more upset about it than you’d initially let on. 
He waits for you to come to him and when you don’t, he takes matters into his own hands and seeks you out first. 
It’s the eighteenth, a little over two weeks into the bet, when brings it up again. He’s at your place for your weekly date night, one you’d almost tried to skip out on by telling him you had work to do for your graduate program with finals coming up. You’d texted him a couple of hours before he was scheduled to come over saying that your homework was really starting to pile up and that you didn’t think you’d be able to finish it all before your date, but Chan had assured you that the two of you could just turn it into a study date. He hadn’t seen you in practically a week, after all. 
But when he arrives at your apartment that afternoon, your study materials are packed away, all traces of schoolwork minimized down to your laptop resting on the coffee table, the browser not even open to your University’s site. 
Chan toes off his shoes by the door and drops his backpack there with them, making his way into your apartment in search of you. 
He could already see from where he was standing in the doorway that you’re not in the living room. You’re not in the kitchen either. 
“Babe?” Chan calls, peering his head around the corner of the hall to your bedroom. Your door is closed, which is odd. You usually leave it open. Chan calls your name again and this time you answer, telling him you’ll be right out. 
You appear from your room moments later, a little out of breath and flushed with heat. Wisps of your hair are sticking to your face and neck with what looks to be sweat. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking you by the shoulders to give you a once over.
“Fine,” you say, not all that convincingly, but brush him off before he can get a chance to press you further. 
You move into the living room together and settle on opposite sides of the couch. Chan goes to grab his laptop from his backpack while you turn on the TV and look for something to put on in the background. 
Once you’ve picked something, he tries to zone in on the song he’s been working on but then he notices that you aren’t working like you said you would be and can’t ignore the concern lingering in the back of his mind. 
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not feeling sick or anything?”
“I’m fine, Chris,” you insist and try to put him at ease by scooting closer to him on the sofa and laying your hand over his. 
“I thought you had a lot of work to do, though. You shouldn’t put it off. You know it’ll only stress you out more if you do.”
“I actually managed to finish it all,” you murmur, not looking away from the screen.
“Wait, really?” 
You nod. “Mhm.”
“That’s great, baby!” he exclaims and tosses his laptop to the side to grab you and kiss you on the forehead. He can’t stop himself from embracing you in a full-body hug, laying you back on the cushions and holding himself over you so that he can pepper kisses all over your face. “I’m so proud of you!”
You don’t respond right away, eyes wide and body frozen beneath him. He realizes the position he has you in a moment later and straightens back up with an awkward clearing of his throat, discreetly readjusting himself in his sweats in the process. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you say, going right back to the topic at hand like nothing had happened. “And I mean, I still have my tests and presentations to do, which is enough stress in itself.”
“I bet,” Chan agrees. “But still! It must be a huge relief to have the rest of it done.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“You don’t sound so sure. You know you can tell me the truth right? If something’s bothering you?” 
“I know, Chris-”
He cuts you off, he can’t help it. “Is it the bet? If it’s the bet, I’ll forfeit. You know it isn’t the end of the world, right? If it’s making you unhappy...” he trails off. 
You smile gently at him. “I know. And of course I miss sex with you, but I want you to win. I just.... haven't been sleeping well lately.”
He frowns and pulls you to his side. “Oh I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s whatever,” you sigh, leaning into his shoulder.
“Maybe you’ll sleep better tonight since I’m here? I can play with your hair the way you like.”
You sit up suddenly and turn to face your boyfriend. “You’re sleeping over?”
It’s Chan’s turn to be confused. “Uh yeah, unless you don’t want me to? I always stay the night on Sundays.”
“I know, I just wasn’t sure if that was still the plan with the whole No Nut November thing still happening.”
He pretends to be offended. “You think I won’t be able to last a night sleeping next to you?”
“You didn’t come over last week!”
“That’s because I agreed to go to the gym after work with Changbin. I told you that.”
You grin. “I thought it was just an excuse since you’re really... pent up you might have wanted to reduce the risk of any... accidents.”
“You don’t think I can control myself?” Chan scoffs.
“I just think you’re pussy whipped.”
“Fine, maybe you’ve got me there,” he concedes with a chuckle. “But I think I’ll be okay for one night.”
-
Chan’s able to get a little bit of work done but since you don’t have any of your own to do anymore, he puts his computer away halfway through the night so that he can spend the rest of the time with you. 
When it’s time to get ready for bed, you shower separately, you first and then Chan. Normally you’d shower together... to save time and water and all that, but Chan didn’t want to make it any harder (literally and metaphorically) than it already had to be.
He falls asleep right away, after playing with your hair for a bit as promised. Despite his insomnia he always finds it quite easy to drift off at your place. He’s not sure if it’s your mattress or simply your presence, but it’s hands down the best sleep he ever gets and all of his members have tried to get him to spend more nights at your apartment because of it. 
He doesn’t because he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. He’s your boyfriend, sure, but you’re just as busy as he is with school and projects. Besides, the routine the two of you have now works and he doesn’t want to mess with it. 
-
It’s the middle of the night when you wake him up. He isn’t sure what time it is exactly, but he can tell from the darkness of your room that it’s still hours from morning. You don’t mean to wake him up either. You’re just tossing and turning and happen to create enough movement that it wakes Chan in the process. 
“Baby?” he rasps, feeling for you over the sheets. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” It’s a lie, he can hear it in your voice. “Go back to sleep, Chris.”
He rolls over onto his side, trying to blink your figure into focus. His eyes still need to adjust so all he can make out are the soft edges of your curves under the blankets but he can tell you’re facing away from him.
“No, talk to me,” he insists, finally finding your hand and squeezing it. “Still can’t sleep?”
“No,” you sigh, sounding defeated. 
“What can I do to help? Want me to play with your hair some more? Rub your back?”
You whine and throw your arm over your face as if you’re embarrassed. “That’s sweet, but there’s nothing you can do for me.”
“What do you mean? There must be something.”
He gently pries your arm away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. He’s still half asleep, still can’t see more than a few inches in front of him, but your eyes reflect the tiny bit of light that is in the room, moonlight that had managed to slip in through a gap in the curtains. 
“Look at me,” he whispers. You do, but your expression is hard to read. “Tell me.”
“I- it’s just the stress, you know? It’s been keeping me up and I can’t... I can’t manage to relieve it.”
Chan nods in understanding. He knows exactly how you feel. He’s come to you with this same problem many, many times, and you always help him out. Sometimes he just needs someone to listen, sometimes he needs to work it out through exercise, and sometimes- oh. It clicks. 
“Do you need to get fucked?”A whimper from your side of the bed is all he needs to know he’s hit the nail right on the head. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“You know why,” you groan. 
“You know a bet isn’t as important as you, baby.”
“I know, but I want you to win!” you groan, voice dropping to a mumble when you say the next part. “And I figured I could just take care of it myself.”
“So why haven’t you? Is it because I’m here? Because you know I won’t care if you do- I mean I’ll find it hot of course, and probably get hard, no, I’ll definitely get hard, but I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve tried already. I’ve been trying for the last few days. For fuck’s sake I tried right before you came over and still didn’t work. It’s not the same, I guess.”
“Wait- right before I came over? Is that why you were so out of breath when I showed up? And is that why you told me you had so much homework- why you’ve been avoiding me in general?”
You nod and try to hide under the covers in embarrassment but Chan doesn’t let you. He holds the comforter tight in his fist so that you can’t pull it over your face, making you pout as he smirks at you. 
“I wasn’t trying to avoid you,” you clarify. “I was trying to help. I knew I’d be needy when I saw you and I didn’t want to make it harder for you.” 
Chan’s chest tightens as his heart practically melts at the revelation. You had been putting yourself through hell, doing all of this, for him? He has to fuck you now, if not for you, for his own selfish need to worship you.
“Oh baby, let me take care of you.”
“I can’t let you do that. Just... go back to sleep. I’ll figure something out.”
“No, come on. You need sleep,” your boyfriend reasons, inching closer to you. His fingers brush the hem of your sleep shorts and you flinch. “If I cum, I cum. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Chris...”
“I’m serious. Half of us have lost already so it’s not like I’m first or anything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he assures you. “We’re wasting time I could be using to fuck you to sleep by going back and forth on this,” he adds. 
“O-okay.”
Chan smiles. “Yeah?”
You nod, firmer this time. “Yeah.”
He’s beaming now as he rolls on top of you, kissing you on your forehead, your cheeks, your chin. You giggle and it’s like music to Chan’s ears. He presses his lips to yours just so he can feel the vibrations of your laughter against him. It tickles a little, making him laugh too as he works his hands up under his t-shirt you’d worn to bed. 
He finds your nipples already hard, whether from the November chill or his own actions he’s unsure, but he liked to think it was the latter.
You moan and arch your back into his touch, rolling your hips to try and get some friction. Chan shifts so that he can push one of his thighs in between yours, giving you something to grind on as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 
God, he’s missed the way you taste. 
The shorts you’re wearing are practically useless. Chan can feel you soaking through them already, which is ironic since you’d worn them for his benefit. You don’t usually wear pants to bed at all. It was just another one of the little things you did to help him get through the month unscathed. Even more reason for Chan to make you cum so hard you black out, in his opinion.
“Chris,” you moan, “Chan...”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Need you.”
And you’ll have him. You’ll have as much of him as you want, for as long as you want.
“Okay, angel. I just need to get us out of these clothes, alright?”
You cooperate as he undresses you both, sitting up so that he can get your shirt off and lifting your hips so he can pull your shorts and underwear down. Both are ruined, completely soaked through with your arousal, and Chan makes a mental note to toss them in the wash before he goes back to bed.
“Want my fingers first?” he asks breathlessly. 
“I... don’t know.”
“No?”
“I want your dick but I might need your fingers to stretch me out.”
Chan hums thoughtfully. “I’ll be quick with them then, how about that?”
You agree, so Chan brings the hand that isn’t holding himself up to your lips and pushes two fingers into your mouth. 
With how wet he knows you already are, you probably don’t need his fingers, but he always prefers to be safe than sorry. He doesn’t want to skip on it and end up hurting you. Besides, he enjoys pleasuring you no matter what the method is. He’d finger you for hours, rub your clit until you were shaking, eat you out until you begged him to stop if you’d let him, but tonight wasn’t about him. 
Once he’s certain that you’re ready to take him, he checks in with you again, making you suck your wetness off of his fingers and asking you if you want him to wear a condom. You shake your head no, and wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. 
“Just want you inside,” you urge.
Chan braces himself and then slips the head of his cock inside of you. It’s immediately overwhelming. He had made a promise to himself that he would try to last, just fuck you through your neediness and then take a cold shower, but now that he’s actually in you he’s not so sure that he’ll be able to hold off. 
“More,” you beg, hands reaching out for your boyfriend.
“Just, just give me a second, baby,” he chokes out, closing his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see the blissed out look on your face. 
Fuck, he’s weaker than he thought. Not even halfway in and he’s already close to cumming. 
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I just had to, uh, take a moment to focus.”
He’s able to push the rest of his cock into you in the next breath, but as soon as he does he has to freeze in place, convinced that if he moves even a millimeter it’ll be game over for him. He can tell you’re trying not to clench around him, which he appreciates, but with the effort it takes to control that, your cunt still flutters unintentionally. It’s torture. Sweet, sweet torture.
Somehow, Chan eventually builds up enough confidence to move. He starts slow, mostly for his own sake, and works up to a steady pace. It’s still not what you need but you seem to be enjoying it nonetheless. 
You moan and chant his name, holding on to his biceps as he drives his dick into you over and over and over again. 
“Such a good girl, letting me take care of her,” Chan praises, letting his fingers rest against your throat. 
“God, Chris, yes!” 
“You like that?”
“Fuck yes,” you sob. “Can you... are you able to go faster?”
Chan gulps, unsure. But he knows you need it. You need to sleep. You need to be fucked, not made love to. He promised he’d give you what you needed. And Chan is a man of his word.  So he snaps his hips into yours as fast as he can, trying to push down the pleasure he feels creeping up his spine.
He’s fighting a losing battle and he knows it but he’ll be damned if he stops now. Your face is scrunching up in the way that it does when you’re close and you’re whimpering quietly with every thrust.
“I’m- ‘m gonna cum,” you warn, reaching down to play with your clit.
Me too, Chan thinks. You’re so warm and wet that there’s no way he won’t when he feels you clamp down around him but he still holds on to the tiny sliver of hope that tells him he has enough self control to withstand it. 
“Go on, baby. Make yourself cum for me,” he coos, suddenly aware of just how thick his accent sounds when he’s turned on. “Know you need it so bad, huh?”
You nod wildly. “Need it, baby, please.”
“So polite, even when you’re about to cum your brains out.”
You muffle a scream with your fist as you’re thrown over the edge, cumming hard underneath him. Chan curses, biting your shoulder to try and hold back, but it backfires on him and makes you clench even harder as you ride out your orgasm. 
“Shit, shit, shit-”
-
Chan throws your clothes into the washing machine along with his, and the sheets he ruined, before climbing back into bed with you. To be fair, he’d cum inside of you- which should have prevented any mess from happening, but there was so much of it (two and a half weeks’ worth, to be precise) and he’d pulled out in a panic as soon as it happened that it had all leaked out before he could stop it. You’d gasped and looked up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, an apology on your lips. 
“This isn’t your fault, babe.”
“But-”
“No, I’m the one who wanted to make you feel good. I knew the risks, remember?” You nod solemnly. “Think about it this way, we’ll get to spend the rest of the month fucking and rubbing it in the others’ faces.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you say, yawning. 
Chan smiles. “Tired?”
You can barely keep your eyes open as you nod. “Mhm.”
“Good. But let's get you in the shower before we fall asleep, okay?”
He shoots the groupchat a text about his loss, but seeing as it’s the middle of the night, no one is up to respond. At least he’ll get a couple more hours of peace before the ridicule starts.
nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady—-boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter
3K notes · View notes
ebsmind · 3 months
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 ❀ part 1 tom blyth x actress!reader
summary : reader and tom fall in love during the filming of tbosas
warning(s) : none!
fc : sabrina carpenter
a/n : thank you so much for the request!! i loved putting this all together 💗 also making this a mini series 😋
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ynuser future first lady of panem ❤️ TBOSAS out in theaters on november 17th 🫶
tagged : @/thehungergames, @/tomblyth, @/ashleyjliao
view comments
ashleyjliao i love you!
↳ ynuser i love you more!
rachelzegler the best dressed on reaping day
❤️ by creator
thehungergames OUR livia cardew
user1 u were MADE for this role
user2 can’t wait to see you in theaters bae 😋
user3 her and rachel in a movie??? YES MA’AM
user4 THE CIGARETTE 😭😭
tomblyth my wife
↳ ynuser my husband ❤️
user5 stop they’re so cute
user6 if only snow actually loved livia 😭
↳ ynuser real
↳ user6 PLSSS
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ynupdates y/n carpenter has been seen around paris with her costar tom blyth! are they just friends or is there something more to the story?
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user1 as long as she’s happy tbh
user2 they’re so cute together i hope so
user3 no!! he’s mine jkjk
user4 she looks so happy
user5 i can just tell he’s smiling at her
user6 i think rachel is with them no?
tomblyth just posted on their story!
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ynuser paris!
view comments
rachelzegler where’s my pic creds ☹️
↳ ynuser i’m sorry ily
user1 she’s so pretty bro
user2 girl we know that’s tom in the second pic….
user3 i love how her rachel and tom are in paris together like bestie goals
user4 living that livia cardew lifestyle fr
user5 idk what tom sees in you tbh
↳ user6 GIRL WHAT????
tomblyth best hot chocolate with the best girl
❤️ by creator
↳ user7 SHUT UP OMGGGGG
user8 they are so dating omg
ashleyjliao bestie trip slay
❤️ by creator
363 notes · View notes
delfiore · 8 months
Text
—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (2/5)
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pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader
synopsis: you and ona become much closer, but in the wrong way; an offer on the horizon threatens to tear you apart.
word count: 3.7k
warnings: description of collision in football
PART I, PART III, PART IV, PART V
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Sports Illustrated: USWNT International Y/N Y/L/N Scores in First Game Back From Injury “Y/N Y/L/N will not stop scoring. The Man City star returns to action with a stunning header in a home game against Everton since picking up an injury this summer in the CONCACAF final against Canada. Though the U.S. emerged victorious thanks to Alex Morgan’s penalty kick, Y/L/N was forced off in the 68th minute with a torn hamstring. She was expected to be sidelined for 3 months. […]”
You skimmed through the article, waiting for your coffee to brew. It has been an arduous few months as you focused on rehabilitation. You were supposed to be match-fit at the start of the season, but the physios determined you needed at least a few more weeks before you could play. Your thigh still felt a bit tight every time you stretched them. Nonetheless, you were back to playing, that was all that mattered.
It was early November, and the winds were picking up in Manchester, and yet you were warm.
“Morning,” you said, smiling at the figure waddling into the living room.
Bratwurst was wagging his tail by her side, no doubt looking for more food as if you hadn’t fed him half an hour ago.
“Good morning,” Ona said, rubbing her eyes.
“Coffee?” You nodded towards the machine.
“No, I have to get to training. Thanks, though.”
“In my shirt?” You smirked at looked down at her top. Sure enough, it was the old T-shirt you lent her after you were done last night.
“Hah hah.” She mocked you, but then took off the shirt, leaving her top half completely bare, and threw it at your face. “Obviously not.”
You let your eyes travel freely, as she went back into your room and returned wearing the clothes she came in last night.
“Looks like you’re back to being your insufferable self.” She walked to where you sat, putting on her necklace. “Can’t even go on social media without seeing people praising your goal.”
“All in a day’s work,” you said, grinning.
Ona rolled her eyes and put on her shoes. “I’m glad you’re back, but I won’t go easy on you.”
You stood up and pecked her lips.
“I never asked you to,” you leaned closer, ducking your face into her neck. “Maybe when we’re alone.”
She snickered quietly and patted your cheek. “Try not to miss me too much. Bye-bye, Bratwurst.”
The pup sat by the door as he watched her close it behind her. Ever since she started spending time at your apartment, it felt like he liked her more, always following her around and snuggling with her as she gave him pets.
Ona had been coming over since the kiss at the end of last season with the premise of meaningless sex. You both had an arrangement, and you were committed to keeping to it. You were surprised when she suggested it, thinking her not to be the type, but Ona continues to surprise you.
You had only meant to meet up over dinner to talk about what happened, but the night ended with her hands tangled in your hair and your legs tangled in her sheets. The ups and downs these past few months never deterred you from seeing each other. In fact, Spain losing out in the Euros prompted her to come over and forget about it for a night. In a way, you both had each other.
Your teammates at Man City were especially amused whenever you’d forget to cover up and come to practice with marks on your neck.
“Who’s the unlucky gal this time, Y/N?”
“Have you been busy while you were injured?”
Every time, you would just shake your head with a grin because you’d never kiss and tell. Also, because Leila and Laia would flip out if they knew you’d been screwing their teammate on the national team.
Your arrangement worked for a while, both of you still too young and too committed to football to think about anything else. While a lot of your colleagues would disagree, it was the excuse you told yourself to fully admit that what you felt for Ona was beyond just carnal desires.
You were treading on dangerous waters, your feelings bubbling to the surface every time you saw the girl. It was much more challenging to keep them under wraps, especially when you had to play against her every couple of months. From what people knew about you two, you were rivals, and that was your relationship. Rumors of a romance surfaced too, amongst younger fans, but it was the result of baseless shipping. If only they knew.
Ona wasn’t an incredibly affectionate person, not by a mile. The only times you would catch her lowering her guard by the tiniest of margins were when she was tired, maybe then she’d let you cuddle her after sex. But you remembered when Spain was knocked out of the Euros way too soon, and she was crying on the phone to you. You had just won the CONCACAF with the US across the Atlantic, and yet all you wanted was to hold her.
And so that was what you did. Two days later, after you were dismissed from your international duties, you flew back to Manchester and waited for her. Ona liked to be the little spoon whenever she was sad, and you were very happy to oblige. If she was feeling generous, she would even thank you for it. As much as you wanted to, you never teased her about it, because you knew what you had was fragile, and a slight mention of it could topple everything to the ground.
That was how it was with your Spanish beauty.
“Wooooooow . . . You’ve got a handful,” said your teammate, Chloe, as she stood in your kitchen, eating your chips.
“Yup,” you pressed your lips thinly, grabbing some seasoning from the cupboard. “That’s my life right now.”
You proceeded to tell Chloe everything one day, omitting a few saucy details, of course.
“Have you tried talking to her about it?”
“That’s the thing, though. There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t just walk up to her and demand something that wasn’t part of the arrangement to begin with.”
“I know, but it’s clearly affecting you. You like her, don’t you?”
“No.” A few seconds of silence followed, and Chloe was looking at you with a glare. “Okay, I think she’s cute, like, really cute.”
“I think you should talk to her, Y/N,” Chloe said. “Worst case scenario, you lot stop whatever you’re doing with each other behind all of our backs. Best case scenario, you date her.”
You smirked, but nothing no usual quippy or smug remark came out. “I should try,” you spoke quietly.
Chloe nodded expectantly and continued eating her chips, now. “I can’t believe it. You tricked all of us! It was Batlle all this time!”
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“I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” you whispered quietly into the room, sitting by the edge of your bed.
Ona was under the covers, on her phone. “Why? ‘Cause we played against each other?”
You nodded bashfully.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she set her phone down. “Or did you not want me to come?”
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” You said, gesturing at the clothes strewn on the floor.
You let her study you for a moment, finding the ruffled sheets much more interesting instead.
“What’s wrong?” She said.
“Nothing.”
“You’re too quiet.” Her voice was low and calming. She reached out and caressed your hand. You wanted to bury your face in her neck and be done with the conversation instead.
“I was just wondering . . . would you like to come over a bit earlier from now on?”
Your question made her look at you with a puzzled expression. “Have I been staying too late?”
“No, no. I mean—you can stay as late as you want, but come a bit earlier. I can cook for us, and then we can just sit and . . . talk.”
You fumbled with your fingers, your eyes drifting up to her, seeing the realization dawn on her. She exhaled. “Okay, that sounds nice . . . but as friends, right?”
“Um . . . no?”
“Y/N,” Ona breathed. Her silence was killing you. Finally, she looked up. “That wasn’t our arrangement, and I’d like for it to stay as we’ve agreed. You’re okay with that, right?”
“Yeah,” you lied, caressing her arm and flashing a smile. “It’s for the best.”
She nodded but watched you closely. “Come here,” she whispered.
You obliged, letting her pull you into her embrace. A searing kiss followed, leaving you to straddle her bare waist.
A short gasp left your lips. “Fuck me, Ona.” You pleaded quietly, hoping she’d fuck you until you forget the conversation ever happened. But you also hoped she’d go slow and make love to you, proving that she’d finally reciprocated your feelings.
You’ve decided that you wanted both. Maybe then, you’d finally get what you wanted.
You didn’t know that Ona was scared to let you in too, so she settled for sleeping with you.
You had been an obsession of hers for three years, a game she played besides having to focus on the actual game she was paid to play. But now, here she was—sleeping with someone who could possibly be her mortal enemy. She didn’t know when, but suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to see you harmed.
She wanted you, but that was the selfish part of her speaking.
In the morning, you had expected her to be there, but your bedside was empty.
Ona moved through her days like a ghost. She didn’t expect it to be this hard three years ago when she first set foot in Manchester. She didn’t expect a forward to make her life this hard, or that she would fall in love with you. Every minute she spent tangled up in bed with you were minutes where nothing else outside that bedroom mattered, and it scared her.
It scared her that only you could make her feel that way, that something she had spent so hard working towards for herself, you did so easily for her.
She thinks of the nights after the Euros when she practically stayed over all day, and how you took care of her. She thinks of the cheeky winks you would send her way whenever she played against you, and the not-so-innocent brushes that you sneak in whenever she defended you. She think of your face when she shut you down, and how quickly your walls came back up.
She thinks of you the entire time she was on the Zoom call with her agent.
“You need to decide soon, Ona,” her agent had told her. “Barcelona doesn’t wait for anyone.”
It was a no-brainer, but she thinks of you all the time.
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The referee blew the whistle and the 90 minutes were over. You collapsed on your knees as the Etihad erupted into cheers. Man City had reached the semifinals of the Women’s Champions League for the first time ever in the history of the women’s club. You would be playing Wolfsburg next, but you couldn’t care less about that right then. You just wanted to celebrate with your teammates.
You wished that you could celebrate with Ona too.
You sent her a text much later in the night, but she didn’t respond. Thinking it to be too late for her to come over, you went to bed, soaking in your victory.
But then, she didn’t respond the next day, then the day after that. A week later, she still hadn’t responded. Then the first leg of the semifinal came, and City drew 2-2 to Wolfsburg. You had given her space to deal with whatever she didn’t want you to know and knew double-texting made you look desperate, but you have had enough of the silence.
A vote of confidence would have been nice Sent 4:29pm
Nothing.
You weren’t going to put your life on hold for her. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.
The week of the return leg, you had almost forgotten all about Ona from the amount of training you were doing.
“Okay, ladies. Gather around,” said Chris, the assistant coach. “This will be our last practice session before the Champions League game. We’re gonna do some passing to start with, then a set-piece practice, and we’ll close off with a 5v5 scrimmage. That sound good?”
You were starting to feel more confident than jittery. Your movements were sure and steady, so were your finishes. Big games never deterred you, but it was the added fact of Ona not responding to your text that caused you to check your phone every time you were able to.
“No phones, Y/N,” Chris said, and raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, Coach. Just checking news from family,” you lied. He extended his hand anyway, and you begrudgingly handed your phone over.
“I can’t have you distracted, Y/N. The match is tomorrow.”
“I know, I know. I’ve been good, though, haven’t I?” You grinned, taking a swig of water.
Practice ended later than scheduled, but you didn’t mind. You needed the extra preparation, and you were glad to have done that with your teammates. Chris finally gave you your phone back, like a naughty student, and you quickly checked your messages. Still nothing. It wasn’t like this was the biggest game of your life or anything.
Going to the news, flipping through articles upon articles on politics, your eyes landed on one about sports.
The Busby Babe: Ona Batlle Set For Barcelona Return “Manchester United and Spain star right back Ona Batlle is reportedly on the verge of completing a move back to Catalonia, rejoining Barcelona Femeni at the end of her contract with the Red Devils. […]”
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The match of your life started. You were on the left wing as you always were, playing inverted so Laia would be running the flank. You scored one, but Wolfsburg got one back towards the end of the first half.
“Make those runs, ladies. If you see them coming at you, call out to your teammates. Use the third man to break free of the defense.” Gareth pointed at the board, showing hypothetical scenarios that the team could exploit for an opening.
“Hey,” Chloe sat next to you, her forehead glistening. “You alright?”
You uttered a small ‘yeah’ and closed your hand over her sweat-clad one over your knee. You couldn’t be distracted. You owed it to Chloe and everyone else on this team.
You were slamming your fist on the door, but you didn’t care. Your jaw clenched as you swayed on your feet waiting for her to open up.
“What the fuck, Y/N?!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You stepped into her apartment.
Her face went pale. “How did you know?”
You let out a laugh. “You’re pathetic. You’re a coward for not even saying a single word.”
The ball was sent over long from deep aiming towards you. You called for Filippa for a one-two, but once you dribbled, you were tackled inside the box. You put your hand up at the referee but huffed in disbelief when she only shook her head and granted a corner.
Slapping your hand on the grass, you sprung up with a grunt. It must have looked like you were throwing a tantrum, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to win.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So you were just not gonna say anything at all?! You owe me that much to—”
“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N.” She snapped. She had never snapped at you before, not while off the pitch. “You know what we have is just sex. That’s all we ever had and that’s all we will ever have.”
Tears formed in your eyes. You felt like a kid again, being scolded and taken for granted. “Please, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N, but this isn’t some fantasyland,” Ona said firmly. “I told you what I wanted, and I thought you agreed.”
There was a period of struggle over the ball soon after, mostly in midfield. You were growing increasingly frustrated as passes continued being cut off just before they reached the attacking third.
“Come on, guys! Let’s finish this!” You called out to your teammates in an attempt to hype them up before a throw-in.
Your irritation mounted, but you told yourself to quickly snap out of it. I need to stay calm, my team needs me. It proved quite difficult when Lena Oberdorf slithered up from behind to mark you. She dug an elbow into your back to keep you at bay, and when you moved, she moved. So you pushed back, much harder than you anticipated. It set her off. Good, stay off me.
Soon, you heard the ref’s hurried whistle, as Lena shoved you back. “The fuck are you pushing for?!” Your opponent seethed, getting all up in your face to challenge you.
You were feeling bold, so you smirked at her. “Come closer, see what I’ll do. Or do you just want a piece of this, huh?”
It wasn’t your best quality, you admitted it, but you liked it when you set off an opponent. You didn’t care when Lena was hurling insults at you in German as she was being led away. What mattered was that you had gotten in her head, and it would be much easier to break her defense from now on. The referee blew her whistle again, and a few teammates of yours attempted to separate you from Lena.
“Sei ruhig, Mann. Bleib’ da drüben.” Be quiet, man. Stay over there. Waving at her dismissively, you saw the way her eyes looked like they would pop out of her sockets in fury, knowing she didn’t expect you to know German. You couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.
“Last warning, Y/L/N.” The referee warned before continuing the match.
There would always be one player that completely drove the opposition crazy, and you would gladly be that asshole, so your teammates wouldn’t have to. You wanted to win.
“You kissed me first. I thought . . .”
“Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Ona said quietly.
“I thought we had something, Ona,” you tried to steady your voice. You knew you sounded pathetic, but you never believed Ona could betray you in such a way.
She only pressed her lips thin. “We don’t. The only thing we have is our arrangement and however you feel about me on the pitch.”
Bunny scored in the 75th minute, and that would be the last goal for City in this match. The game went to extra time, and you could feel your teammates getting tired and sloppy in possession. You were tired too, but you wanted to keep fighting, anything to keep the thought of Ona out of your head.
You were so focused on the ball that you didn’t see a defender coming up beside you, her body colliding with yours in an attempt to redirect the ball. You fell to the ground with a thud, the stinging impact beginning to spread across your back. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you, your vision beginning to fade until all you could see were the lights atop the stadium, until those faded too.
The next thing you knew, you were on your side. Then the uncomfortable pain in your gut started to become more apparent, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. You gasped for air, just as a couple of your teammates knelt beside you.
“Y/N, can you hear me? Medic!” You heard a voice almost like Demi’s call out.
You didn’t know who knocked into you, you didn’t care anymore, because you had the overwhelming urge to throw up whilst still struggling to breathe.
“Can’t . . . breathe,” you wheezed out, tears starting to fill your eyes. You wanted to go home.
One of the medics shone a flashlight in your eyes. “Pupils are PEARL,” she said. “Okay, I need you to try and take deep breaths for me, alright, darling?”
You drew a shaky breath. There was a wheezing noise, in and out. In and out. The more you did, the easier it got. Your head was dizzy when you stood up, just as you heard applause ringing throughout the stadium.
Chloe appeared in front of you and offered her arm while a medic took your other as you walked toward the sideline.
“You’re alright, love,” she flashed you a warm smile and wiped away the stray tear that lingered on your cheek.
It was much too unfortunate, because you still had a lot more to give, but you were done for the night. Gareth knew it too, so he sent Hempo in to take your place.
You finally let the tears fall freely when the final whistle came.
“When do you leave?”
“In two weeks.”
A scornful laugh escaped you that you didn’t even bother to hide. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me, not as your booty call, but as your friend.”
But you were kidding yourself. You knew Ona and you were never friends, never quite lovers either. Only two people floating around in a sexual limbo who were too scared to admit to themselves what was right in front of them. Now she was leaving, and you would never get the chance.
It didn’t matter anymore, any of it. You had a Champions League semifinal to play.
ESPN: Wolfsburg Grabs Victory in Extra Time to Reach Women’s Champions League Final “[…]”
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a/n: it was so heartwarming to see the support for jenni and the players :’) it’s abt fuckin time man let’s hope this continues until rubiales and vilda’s resignation
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writeonwhiskey · 2 months
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the skz house: ch 12 (18+)
a/n: thank you to @bahablastplz for editing & shmeems for proofreading.
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Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.
[ read chapter eleven here ]
Chapter Twelve: Of Delays and Professor Bang
On your way to school Monday morning, Chan tells you to stay with Hyunjin again tonight. There’s no hiding the look of confusion on your face as you turn to face him. You don’t know if he assumes you and Hyunjin have already had sex or if it’s a new revelation—you wouldn’t be surprised if there were an iridescent aura surrounding you after the night you had with Hyunjin. Isn’t that what Chan wanted? You don’t want to read too deeply into his words, however you can’t help but feel like he’s pushing you away.
Chan’s eyes remain focused on the road. Even if he were looking at you, you’d have no idea what he’s thinking. You never do.
“Have another night with him, since the challenge starts this week,” he adds to his alarming statement with a shrug, as if it’s no big deal.
Maybe it is.
“Is this a game of hot potato?” You ask, half joking. “And I’m the potato being tossed around?”
“Is that how it feels?”
“A little bit.” You softly admit.
“If you’re uncomfortable, remember you can always le—”
“Chan,” you cut him off sharply. “I’m not saying I want to leave. I’m actually starting to settle in and enjoy myself. I’m just expressing how I feel. People have feelings, you do know that, right?”
He turns to look at you when he stops at a red light.
“The SKZ house is not a place for feelings, y/n. You do know that, right?” He counters.
You suck in a breath at his words and face forward. Clearly Chan has overcome his hangover and is back to being an asshat. 
Hyunjin has no problem with your feelings. To hear you out when you express them, to cater to them, to protect them. Chan tramples all over them, like they’re dirt beneath his feet.
That can’t be entirely true, though. He showed that to you yesterday when he apologized.
You sigh and lean back against the headrest. It’s like he wants to provoke you sometimes, to make you angry, make you snap…to make you leave.
It infuriates you that he believes he could have such an influence over you. If he were smart, he’d give it a shot when you’re at your weakest—when he’s teasing you to the brink of insanity. You’d agree to damn near anything in those moments. But right now, with your full wits about you, he’s just pissed you off. 
You fix your posture in the seat, feeling your determination to not let him get his way increase. In this car ride, on your way to your shared class, you make the decision to do whatever it takes to make Chan break in November. You’ll make him see he can’t push you around, that two can play this game. You’ll have him begging you for once. 
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On Tuesday, the duration of your afternoon class is filled with reminiscing about your bonus night with Hyunjin. You try to remain focused, but your thoughts keep drifting back to him and the things he did to you. That boy is made of magic and being with him, having him inside of you, makes you feel like you are too.
After class you wait in the parking lot for Changbin and Seungmin as usual for this day of the week. You’re dreading the thought of going home and being in Chan’s room. With tomorrow being November 1st, you can only assume he plans to get in a month’s worth of you in one night. And even more, you know you’ll cave to his needs the second his lips are on yours. But you can delay it. You can make him wait. 
When Changbin and Seungmin make it back to the car, you put your plan to stall going home into action. 
“Minnie…Binnie,” you address them ever so sweetly as they approach. 
Changbin arches a suspicious eyebrow, Seungmin grins. 
“How do you guys feel about a pit stop at the mall?”
“What for?” Changbin asks, unlocking the car doors.  
“I need to pick up something.”
No, you don’t.
“Sure,” Seungmin agrees.
You smile at him in return and get into the backseat.
“I have a strict food court tax, as the driver,” Changbin informs you while starting up the car.
Your smile widens. That’s just perfect. Another pit stop.
“I got you, Binnie Boo.” 
Changbin scrunches up his face at the nickname. 
“Oh, but if I were Hyunjin, you’d eat that right up.” You roll your eyes.
“Well, yeah,” he admits without hesitation. “That’s the love of my life.” 
He holds a straight face for a second before breaking out into a smile and you all laugh as he backs out of the parking space. 
Your detour to the mall ends up taking three hours. It’s officially Halloween day so the inside is crowded with parents and their young children trick-or-treating at the stores. Just as planned, you all end up stopping at various stores along the way to the one you need to get to (you’ve no idea which, but it’s okay). Changbin gets a hat from LIDS. Seungmin buys a bracelet from a kiosk. Then you all head for the arcade and when they’re planted in the seats of a race car game, you leave them there for a bit to complete your imaginary errand. You go to a nearby clothing store and pick out a new pair of jeans and a couple of form fitting tops, remembering the suggestions Jeongin had for you what feels like forever ago.
Hyunjin reaches out to see where you are. Chan does not. 
When you meet back up with them you go to the food court and get Changbin a meal from Hot Dog On A Stick at his request, and treat yourself and Seungmin to pretzels from Auntie Annie’s, even though he didn’t ask for anything. After you kill some more time eating, the three of you stop at Spencer’s to see what kind of odd items they have on display. 
There are shirts with suggestive images and phrases, lollipops and shot glasses shaped like dicks, sex card games, drinking games, and even vibrators and anal plugs tucked away in the back corner. You each purchase something wildly inappropriate (you make sure to checkout when they’re both preoccupied to avoid judgement or teasing for your items) and then decide to leave the mall. 
There’s a smug look on your face as you check the time—it’s nearly 7:00pm now.
Mission success.
The drive home takes an additional twenty minutes and when you enter the neighborhood, trick-or-treaters are walking the sidewalks. You convince Changbin to drive around so you can look at everyone’s exterior decorations because another ten minutes won’t hurt. 
It’s 7:30 when you make it back to the house. Changbin has you and Seungmin exit the car first. He opens the garage door so Seungmin can back out the other Tesla that’s on the charger and swap it out for this one. You let them handle that and take your backpack and shopping bags into the house. 
Jeongin and Charlotte are at the door passing candy out. Hyunjin, Han, Lee Know and Felix are in the living room, but you don’t see Chan. You set your bag by the stairs, wave to the couch surfers, get a wink from Hyunjin, and go to the kitchen, right in time to help Allie and Rhiannon make dinner. 
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You text Chan when dinner is done, but he tells you to bring up your plates. Plural. 
You have a lot to lug up the stairs. You put your backpack on, slide your shopping bags onto your arms, then pick up the tray with your plates on it. When you make it to his door you kick it gently with your foot, but loud enough to be heard.
He opens it within seconds. You haven’t seen him all day, so the sight of him in dark jeans and a tucked-in, light blue, pinstriped button up shirt with the top two buttons undone makes you forget what you’re even doing. He’s wearing two different styles of earrings again—a thick silver hoop on his right ear and what looks like silver links on his left. Your eyes fall to the necklace and the silver infinity pendant resting on his skin. He takes the tray from you and steps aside. 
“Thank you,” you say, snapping out of your daze.
You’ve never seen him dressed up in this way before. What was he doing all day? He probably went to church to ask forgiveness for the things he’ll do to you tonight.
He shuts the door behind you and sets the tray on his bed as you start to walk towards your own. Before you can reach it, his hand grabs your left wrist, spins you around and pulls you towards him. 
What’s with these men doing that to you? And why do you like it so much?
The breath is knocked out of you as you collide with his chest, the shopping bags falling from your right arm. The bag on your left is held in place where his hand is holding your wrist. You slowly bring your eyes up, lingering on that necklace and the skin beneath it, then to his eyes.
“What did you need to get from the mall?” He asks in a low tone. 
You resist the urge to arch an eyebrow. So, if he hadn’t texted you about where you were this afternoon…he must have reached out to Seungmin or Changbin instead. 
“Stuff,” you reply, hardening your gaze. “Did you need me for something?”
You know there’s now only three and a half hours until midnight. Until November. And you still need to eat, and shower—plus he has an early morning class on Wednesday. Oops. Must have slipped your mind.
It didn’t. 
“I had plans for you,” he replies calmly. “What did you have to get?” 
It’s none of his business, really.
Not accepting your silence, he looks down at the bag on your wrist. You’re not sure which one fell to the floor, but you silently pray it was the one from Spencer’s. 
He lets go of your wrist and removes the bag from it, then holds the bag up in front of you.
“Spencer’s, huh?”
You watch, cursing yourself mentally as he reaches inside the bag. You had felt so damn smug about returning home late and now this is your karma. You can feel the tides changing already, knowing what he is about to discover.
The first thing he pulls out is the deck of cards with “Naughty Party” written on it. 
His eyes flicker from the deck of cards to you and you feel your face flush. 
He reaches in the bag again and you pray he doesn’t see or feel a particular item you purchased. When his hand comes out of the bag again, this time he’s holding a large pink and purple, cotton candy flavored, dick shaped lollipop. You quickly snatch the bag from him as his eyes light up with laughter. 
“That was just an extra stop…I didn’t specifically go there for…” your eyes move to the lollipop and card game in his hand, “that.”
“Of course you didn’t,” he replies as if he doesn’t believe you.
“We should eat before the food gets cold,” you say, tentatively walking backwards until you’re near your bed. You place the bag down and your backpack on top of it, wanting the other item in the bag to remain hidden. 
He sits on his own bed, opening the deck of cards. He uses the stick end of the dick lollipop to cut through the shrink wrap securing it. 
“I’m actually not that hungry anymore,” he declares. And just like that, he has the upper hand again. “You ate at the food court, right?”
Jesus Christ, do all the members report back to him with everything you do? Or did he ask? The former would make you annoyed…the latter makes you feel disgustingly warm inside.
He sets the trash and lollipop aside and opens the box to take out the cards. You sit on your bed, watching his amused face as he looks through the deck. He separates them on the bed into the five piles you read on the back—icebreaker, foreplay, naughty, kinky, and drink or dare. 
He stands from his bed, picks up the tray with your now abandoned dinner on it and puts it on his desk. He then walks to your bed and holds out his hand to you. You place yours in his with a quiet sigh. 
He leads you to his bed, bringing you to stand in front of him. He rests his hands on your hips and leans over your shoulder, his cheek just barely touching yours.
“No icebreakers or drinking,” he makes his own rules, of course. “Pick a card.”
That leaves only foreplay, naughty or kinky. Which is the lesser of the three evils you’ve gotten yourself into? You pick up the foreplay card. 
He leans over you more to see what it says, gripping your hips, holding you against him. Your heartbeat picks up as he rubs the side of his face against yours. You want to lean back into him, to tell him to forget the game and just do what he wants with you—but this is what he wants now.
“What does it say?” He asks.
“You are desperately trying to get better grades in class. Your partner is…” you stop reading, eyes widening at the words. 
“Your partner is your teacher,” Chan continues for you. You can hear the smile in his words. “Convince them to give you a good grade.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing and simultaneously wanting to vomit at the idea of roleplaying. Roleplaying with Chan, no less. 
His hands fall from your hips, and you feel him backing away from you. You keep your eyes closed, wanting to kick yourself for even purchasing this game. This is not how you thought tonight to go, and this is not how you intended to use the deck of cards. Karma circled back around quick for your defiant behavior today.   
You hear him shuffling around behind you, opening and closing drawers. Then the room falls silent.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Chan says. 
You toss the card onto the bed and let out a deep breath. You open your eyes and spin around.
Chan is leaning against his dresser, a pair of circular, gold framed glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose, a red book with gold letters on the cover in his hand. The props combined with the outfit he’s wearing, are perfect for his ‘character’. The sight almost makes you smile—if you weren’t so fucking nervous. You chew on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say or do.
“Ah, y/n.” Chan begins for you. “What brings you to my office?”
He has a teasing smile on his face. You take a step forward and clear your throat.
“Well, Cha—“ 
He shoots a stern look at you, one brow arched. 
“I mean, Professor Bang,” you correct. “I wanted to talk about my grade in your class.”
He snaps the book shut and sits it on the dresser. He pushes his glasses up.
“Ah, yes. They’re not quite what I expected from you,” he says, crossing his legs, then his arms in front of his chest. 
You feel silly. So silly. You can’t help but appreciate how serious he’s being. It encourages you to get more into it. 
“I know,” you look down at your feet and take a few more steps forward. “Things have been really hectic with work and school; I haven’t been able to keep up with the assignments.”
“I see,” he says flatly. “I wish you’d come to me sooner, it’s too late in the semester now. I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it at this point.”
You slowly look back up at him, trying your best to make your eyes look sad. You chew on your bottom lip again, this time as part of the act. 
“Please, sir.” 
His lip quirks at the corner hearing that, but he keeps a straight face. 
“I can’t fail this class,” you shake your head, walking forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I know you’re an understanding teacher. There must be something I can do. Some kind of extra credit.”
His eyes fall from your head to your toes, then back up again. Part of you wishes you’d had on better clothing rather than a jacket and jeans. Though—you had rushed to get ready this morning after untangling yourself from Hyunjin and only have on a sports bra beneath the jacket. You could use that to your advantage. 
“I’m sorry, y/n, I really don’t think that’s possible.” He shakes his head. 
You force out a sad sigh as you bring your hand up to your jacket zipper. You start to  pull it down, watching his face, watching his eyes move from yours down to the skin slowly being revealed. 
“Sir, I really can’t fail this class,” your tone actually sounds desperate. You stop the zipper just beneath your navel.
“I really don’t think this is appropriate, y/n,” he tells you.
You tentatively close the distance between you. He’s looking directly at your exposed cleavage as you approach. You reach out for the buttons on his shirt.
“I’ll do anything to pass this class, Professor Bang,” you say, emphasizing his oddly fitting last name. 
You tentatively undo one button, looking from your hands at work, then back up to him. 
You’re not sure how far he’ll go into character, if he’ll try to stop you. You’re also not sure where this sudden confidence emerged from. You’ve never seduced anybody before, you don’t know what you’re doing. The fact that he’s playing along makes it a little more comfortable. The plus side to this debacle is that it’s good practice for next month. 
That’s how you have to look at this. You can make this work for your long-term goal. You can give him a night he won’t forget with this act. Something he’ll want more of. Something he’ll want to experience with you again. 
You fight against the smile threatening to give away the villainous plan that’s just been sparked in your head. 
You’ve got two buttons undone and he hasn’t stopped you. You push up onto your tiptoes, moving your mouth closer to his. 
“Anything,” you whisper, letting your lips brush against his. 
You kiss along his jawline as your hands keep working on the buttons. You tug on the shirt to pull it out of his pants to finish unbuttoning it, nipping at his neck.
“I could get fired for this,” he says.
With his shirt unbuttoned you slide your hands up his chest, to his shoulders. 
“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” you say, pushing his shirt down. You lay a trail of kisses from his right shoulder, across his collarbone, to his left shoulder, while your hand tugs at the button on his jeans, then the zipper. 
His hands grip your hips. You slip a hand beneath his boxers. His cock is already hard when you cup it, and it feels like the biggest win. 
“I promise.” You hook a finger under his chain. You stand flat on your feet and use the chain to bring him down towards you as you squeeze his cock. His eyes bore into you as he licks his lips. You’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now. Is this really working? “It’ll be our little secret.”
His mouth crashes against yours and he lets out a groan, pulling your hips against him. 
As expected, his lips on yours instantly makes you feel ravenous. You run your hands along his chest as his tongue enters your mouth, caressing yours. You’ve missed the taste of him—not that your time with Hyunjin wasn’t amazing, but the unknown and unaddressed feelings between you and Chan make your intimacy equally pleasing for drastically different reasons.
You push away from him when it becomes too much, needing to take a breath. He seizes the opportunity to finish unzipping your jacket.
“You left the house like this?” His tone is rough and accusatory and makes you wonder if the roleplay is finished. “In just a bra and jacket?”
“Yes,” you’re hesitant to reply.
His lips are back on your skin, leaving a trail of heat as he kisses along your neck while removing your jacket. You tilt your head to the side and arch your back, wanting more of his touch.
“No shirt,” he continues, unzipping the sports bra at the front. “That’s the kind of student you are?”
His hands are on your hips again and he guides you back a little. You drop your hands from his chest and stare up at him, silent. He slides the straps of the bra off your shoulders. As soon as the air hits your nipples you feel them tighten.
He lets out a low breath at the sight. You both remain still.
“I thought you were a good girl, y/n.”
You’re not sure when he took the upper hand again, but you’re thankful for a moment to not think of what your ‘character’ would say and just bask in the feeling of his lustful eyes on you.
“Show me what you’ll do for your grade,” he says, reaching out to cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, making you moan.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and start to pull them down along with his jeans, lowering yourself to your knees. He steps out of them, and you look up. The only remaining item of clothing he has on is his shirt. It’s halfway off, hanging from his biceps—broad, sculpted shoulders and ripped abdomen on full display. You move your hands to his cock, lightly caressing it with your fingertips.
You hold the base with one hand and use your other to glide your pointer finger across the tip until that clear fluid starts to emerge. You lean forward and take him into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you push forward to take in as much of him as you can. He grips your hair with both hands, pulling on the strands while you flick your tongue from side to side along the bottom of his shaft.
You squeeze your cheeks together, sucking hard as you pull off his cock, causing a loud popping sound when it comes out.
“I want you to fuck my mouth, Professor Bang,” you say, looking up at him as you readjust yourself on your knees.
His jaw clenches and his eyes light up as he tightens his grip on your hair. He positions your mouth back over his cock. You take a deep breath and open wide. He holds your head in place while his hips thrust forward and backwards, slowly at first, then faster and deeper. It takes every bit of concentration to keep your gag reflex in check as his cock slides further down your throat.
It’s messy. There’s saliva all around your mouth, probably dripping down your chin. He likes it this way. He's grunting and groaning, and you love the sounds he makes. You love that he’s making these sounds while he’s in your mouth. Only you can give him this pleasure. This Chan is not an asshat. This Chan wants you. Needs you. You rub your hands up and down his thighs, scratching lightly with your nails.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants each time he thrusts.
When he pulls all the way out, you lean forward to take him in your mouth again, but he stops you. He’s breathing heavily and with the way he’s gripping his cock, you can tell he almost came.
The amount of self-control he has in these moments is concerning. At least for the goal you’ve set to accomplish next month.
He motions for you to stand, and you do. You use the back of your hand to wipe your chin.  
He unbuttons and unzips your pants, pushing them down halfway and having you do the rest. As soon as you’ve stepped out of them, he grabs you by the waist and picks you up. His grip on you is firm, yet effortless, as he turns around to sit you on the dresser.
You love this dresser. It might be your favorite dresser in the world.
He adjusts you so you’re close to the edge and spreads your legs apart. He keeps his hands on your knees, bending down slightly to get eye level with your pussy.
It's in these moments that you know. No matter how he treats you any other time of day—the look in his eyes right now says so much. He wants you in a way you’ve never been wanted before. Whether or not that extends to anything other than a physical connection is for you to worry about later.
He slides his pointer finger along your folds, then rubs circles around your clit. He looks up to catch your eye. There’s a playful glint there when he speaks.
“You’ve worked your way up to a C,” he announces, stepping back.
You scoff and bite back a smile.
He turns around and walks to the bed, leaving you spread open on his dresser. He picks up the dick-shaped lollipop from the bed.
“That’s not what I bought that for,” you say as he pulls the wrapper off, walking back to you.  
With one look he silences you and lets you know he doesn’t give a fuck what you bought it for. It’s his now, and so are you. He can do what he likes.
When he’s in front of you again, he pushes the lollipop against your lips. You resist for a moment.
“Do you want to fail my class, y/n?”
Your eyes are on him, but his are on your mouth as you shake your head and drop your jaw. He pushes the lollipop into your mouth, and you close your lips around it. It’s a nice contrast from the salty taste of him lingering there. The cotton candy flavor fills your mouth as he slowly moves it in and out. When he pulls it out, you already know what’s coming next, and you don’t know how to feel about it.
He puts one hand on your stomach, pressing down until you lean back against the mirror. He slides the lollipop down your chin and neck, stopping to circle your nipples, making them sticky then licking them clean. He then lowers it between your legs, pressing it against your center to moisten the tip before sliding it around your folds.
His focus is entirely on what he’s doing; watching intently as he pushes the dick-shaped lollipop into you. You squirm on the dresser, trying to push aside thoughts of what it will take to clean yourself after this. The packaging said it was safe for internal use, but again, this was not what you had in mind for it. When he leans forward and sucks your clit into his mouth, though, you don’t have to try anymore. Your only thoughts are of what you’re going to do without this for a month.
Though, technically, you can receive…right? You’ll have to clarify the rules later.
Chan kisses his way up your stomach, nipping as he gets to your breasts, then full on biting when he’s at your neck. And they’re not soft bites either. You moan loudly, always in depravity when you’re with him. You’re not sure there’s anything he could do to you that you wouldn’t like. And that thought scares you.
The bites at your neck turn into sucks and you lean into it, knowing he’s marking you. He pulls himself away before he can do too much damage, breathing heavily and resting his head on your shoulder as he keeps moving the lollipop in and out of you.
Your hand makes its way beneath his chin to lift his head up and make him look you in the eye. You cup the back of his neck and pull his mouth to yours. You part your lips and your tongue dashes out, seeking his, letting him taste the mixture of himself and the cotton candy flavor. You arch your back until your breasts meet his chest, hardened nipples poking at this skin. He groans into your mouth as you suck on his tongue.
“I want an A, Professor,” you say, pushing him away.
A low growl escapes his mouth as he reclaims your mouth. He withdraws the lollipop from you as he kisses you deeply and messily. His lips and tongue are everywhere, uncontrolled. He grips your hip with one hand, pulling you closer until your center is pressed against his stomach
When he breaks the kiss, he lets out another long, low breath and shakes his head. You want to know so badly what’s he’s thinking. You want him to vocalize how much he wants you. How much he needs you to please him.
He takes a small step back, lollipop still in hand. You watch as he brings it to his mouth, parts his lips and slides it inside. You don’t know why, but it makes you feel better about the whole predicament watching him take the candy phallus into his mouth. You can see him swirling his tongue around it, taking your juices off of it.
He slides you off the dresser to your feet, removing the lollipop from his mouth and placing it on the dresser. He leans down and cups your face, kissing you softly and briefly. He taps you on the ass and nudges you towards the bed.  
You crawl on the bed as soon as you reach it and start to turn around. He’s right behind you. His hands land on your hips to hold you in place, keeping you on all fours near the edge of the bed. He’s silent, pressing his cock against you as his hands roam freely up and down your back.
You’re not expecting it, so when he withdraws a hand and delivers a hard smack to your ass you tense up, then moan. The pain he delivers always feels good.
He grips your hips once more and positions himself at your opening, slowly sliding inside of you.
You let your head hang down as you savor the feeling. You missed this. You will continue to miss it if he doesn’t break. He rests in you for a moment, hands still gripping your hips tightly while he’s completely buried in you.
When he pulls out, you brace yourself. He thrusts forward, hard and deep, groaning. You love how vocal he is when he fucks you, too. He doesn’t do feelings, he doesn’t do words, but he makes sounds. He makes it apparent how much he likes the feeling of his cock inside you.
“Arch your back,” he says, moving his hand to the middle of your back and pressing down lightly.
You spread your legs further apart and turn your face on the side to rest your head on the mattress. You arch your back, moaning as the adjusted position allows him to sink deeper into you.
He continues to slowly withdraw then thrust into you quickly, repeating the motion again and again. The cards left on the comforter spill onto the floor as your joint aggression rocks the bed. When you start to move your hips back against him, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper. He leans forward to reach around your hips and rub your clit. The sound of your thighs connecting to his, yours shared moans, his grunts, fill the quiet room. You fuck him back, panting as you feel your release approaching.
“Professor Bang,” you manage to get out, gripping the sheets, thrusting back against him even harder. “Can I come?”
Roleplay or not, you haven’t forgotten his basic rules.
He chuckles, taking his other hand off your hip to grab your breast, using it for leverage to pull you back on to him.
“I don’t know…” he teases breathlessly, “Can you?”
“May I?” You correct, squeezing your eyes shut as if it will help you hold back.
“You may,” he says, releasing your breast to spank you again.
He keeps rubbing your clit and slapping your ass every few thrusts. The stinging pain combined with the feel of his cock pumping in and out of you reaches its peak. You bite your bottom lip to keep from full on wailing. You bite so hard you break the skin, feeling the taste of copper in your mouth as you try to stifle your moan.
“Chan,” you pant, “I’m coming. I’m coming!”
Your words are breathless as you push back against him with all your might and let your orgasm course through you.
He doesn’t stop his movements until you reach back with your hand, pressing it against his stomach. He slows his thrusts little by little before pulling out of you completely.
The hand holding you up and your thighs shake until they give out. You fall onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. He’s still standing behind you, taking slow, deep breaths. You look over your shoulder to see him stroking his cock. How is he still holding back?
“This is just practice, y/n.” He announces, seeing the look on your face.
Fuck, you’ve got your work cut out for you.
“Do I at least get an ‘A’?” You ask.
“Solid B+,” he says with a smile.
“Fuck you, Professor,” you laugh.
He stops stroking himself, sits on the bed and delivers another smack to your ass.
“Eat,” he commands.
“What about you?” You ask curiously.
“I have two and a half hours left ‘til midnight,” he says. “Eat quick.”
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When you wake up Wednesday morning, you’re actually kinda thankful to be getting a break. Chan fucked you, and fucked you, and fucked you some more last night. You didn’t think it would ever end, but you had no complaints at the time. This morning, however, your body is feeling it. Your thighs feels like strangers to one another after spending so much time spread apart, with either his cock or mouth between them.
Later, everyone gathers in the basement and Seungmin unveils two large pieces of paper. The first has each member’s name on it, the second has all the girls’ names and their assigned members. Score boards.
“Anytime a member puts money into the pot or breaks, we will keep track of it here,” Seungmin says.
“And you guys don’t lie or try to cheat?” Allie asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“No reason to,” Seungmin says. “It’s just for fun, remember?”
It’s hard for you to imagine they see this as fun. Though perhaps they all just want to strive for the win and feel like an alpha male, beating out their other members.
“Who won last year?” You ask.
The members are silent, looking amongst each other.
“I’ve won the last three years in a row,” says the voice that was moaning and groaning in your ear last night. Your eyes meet with Chan’s and suddenly your heart and aspirations sink. How the fuck are you gonna get him to break then?
a/n: I'm using the 2023 calendar for this so if there's any confusion it's now Wednesday, November 1st in the story. More soon! Likes, reblogs & comments make the tumblr world go 'round <3
[ read chapter thirteen here ]
tag list:
@iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie /@conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland /@hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy /@ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo /@hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt /@fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog/ @yjeonginlvr/ @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo /@skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie
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strbymacaroon · 4 months
Text
Silent Love: Ch. 5 - "Good Guy."
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⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Four
Previous Chapter: Project Week
Chapter One: New Roommate(s)
Master-List: Here!
.・゜゜・ 。・゚゚・ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:
When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.
However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.
You hate him.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:
College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.
Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 10,040
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・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 27th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Monday
The weekend was… tense. 
That pissed you off. 
It still pisses you off.
You’re still hurt, too. 
Yuuji notices, he has yet to ask, but knowing that you came home upset with Sukuna after being happy the whole day with him, he has a feeling he knows the reason. “Do you want to watch this movie?” Yuuji asks, looking over his shoulder. 
You take your eyes off the computer, looking at the TV. “No, that one looks sad.” You look back at your screen, “Can you play a comedy, or something?” You jump up at a thought for a moment, “Oh, wait, I know what, play the movie Selena.” 
Yuuji tilts his head, “Selena?” He turns back to the TV, searching up the name on Netflix. 
You nod, “Mhm, Selena, I have a feeling you’re going to like her.” You continue typing away at the computer while glancing at your notebook. You’re content with all the information you gathered during the week, however, you don’t know how to go about Sukuna’s “Mental Evaluation.”
Now that the two of you aren’t talking–aren’t even looking at each other–it feels wrong to write about him, more a less do your project on him. You sigh, dropping your head on your keyboard, “I hate this project, and I hate Gojo.” 
Yuuji doesn’t respond, already sucked into the movie. Which is what you expected, Selena has that effect on people, even in her young age of childhood. You can’t imagine how Yuuji’s going to react when he finally sees her grown and a singer. 
You shiver, the window no longer flooding the sun’s light, “Yuuji, I’m cold.” You whisper. 
Yuuji waves his hand, “I have some extra blankets in my room, you can grab one–oh! There’s also some snacks in there, too. Bring them so we can watch the movie.” He starts to stand up, “I can help you find them–” 
“No, it’s okay.” You put your hand out, stopping him while you stand up. “You enjoy the movie, I’ve seen it a million times with my mom. I practically have it memorized by now.” Yuuji nods, while you make your way to his room. 
For a moment you pause and look at Sukuna’s door. It’s the same it’s been this whole weekend, closed and silent. It makes your stomach turn. You want to knock, you want to give Sukuna the benefit of the doubt, you really do, but you can’t. A part of you wishes you could go back in time and listen to what he had to say when he called your name on Friday, but you’re scared–no, you're terrified. 
You want to know if he was going to apologize. Yet, another part of you knows that isn’t the case. And that is what scares you. You care for Sukuna, you lik–you shake your head–the idea of him rejecting you, or using you is terrifying. 
What if he just tells you to leave him alone? You can’t bear to hear that again. You can’t bear to be a girl he forgets about. It’s so stupid. You’re being so stupid, you genuinely hate it.
You bite the corner of your bottom lip, pushing Yuuji’s door open and flicking on the switch. Only to quickly realize, it doesn't work, to be honest, you’re not entirely surprised by that, you were expecting much worse. Even when you open his closet and grab the snacks and blanket, you were expecting his unopened lego box collection to fall on you, luckily, it didn’t. 
You wrap yourself with the blanket, and hold the snacks between your arms, “Yuuji, I think I found all of the snacks.” You yell from his room, closing the door behind you, “Your lego sets almost killed me, but–” You feel your stomach drop, your words dying. Your fingers almost go slack, but you catch yourself, tightening your grasp on the snacks in exchange. 
Sukuna pressing his lips together, his eyes moving up and down your frame, before naturally looking at the women besides him. He can see your expression sour from the corner of his eye, and it makes his stomach turn uncomfortably. 
The blonde woman laughs, “Oh, hi, baby. It’s been a hot second, huh?” She gives you a satisfied smile, her hands hanging on her hips, “Interesting look you got going there.” She points at you, her finger moving up and down your outfit. 
It feels weird… knowing that he’s looking at you after actively avoiding you the whole weekend, and refusing to even breathe in your direction. You give both of them an uncomfortable look, “I’m home? What do you expect me to look like?” You want to move past them, you really do, but that feels embarrassing and uncomfortable. Besides… you’ve made a point to only wear your cute pajamas now that you live with two guys. 
She wrinkles her nose, “Who knows.” She turns to Sukuna’s door, pushing it open with confidence. “Something that looks even a bit cute.” She enters the room with a happy skip, leaving you and Sukuna alone in the hall. 
You look to the side, a bit of a hurt expression gracing your face. 
Sukuna mindlessly mirrors your body language, but keeps his eyes on you. He’s observing you, looking at the snacks in your hands, along Yuuji’s thick blanket wrapped around your shoulder. He can hear his little brother watching a movie in the living room, a part of him wonders if it’s a movie night. Another part of his wonders if he can–
“Can you move?” Your eyes are still looking away from him, your fingers tight around the bags of snacks, you can hear them crinkle underneath your fingers. “Yuuji’s waiting for me.” 
Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek, nodding. He pushes himself to the wall, watching as you pass him. He can smell you shampoo and perfume, he can also see the way your eyes look a bit glossy. But, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, and most importantly, he doesn’t want to say anything. 
You bite your bottom lip the moment you enter the living room, quickly wiping your eyes as you move behind Yuuji. Hugging him from behind while the blanket engulfs both of you. You close your eyes, sighing into his trapezius, completely relaxing into his body. You’re a bit surprised he can hold up your whole weight without even flinching. 
Yuuji keeps his attention to the screen while asking, “You okay?” You nod into his shirt, letting your arms drape over his shoulder as you hold him close. He just nods, leaning into you and taking one of the snacks you took from his room. 
You open your mouth, your eyes blurring and turning glossy again as Yuuji pops a chip into your mouth.Stupid Sukuna. Why is liking you so fucking hard? 
“I think I’m in love.” Yuuji mindlessly mumbles.
You laugh a tiny bit, moving away from him and back to your computer. “Don’t worry, I was too.” You’re back to typing away, stealing glances at the TV, but mostly Yuuji. Drinking up all his reactions to the movie. “Hate the way it feels, though.”
“I invited Nobara and Megumi.” He tells you randomly, looking at you with glossy eyes. “I’m sorry, but this movie is too good to watch alone.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hands, “I also told them to bring pizza and tissues.” He smiles to himself, “Also those delicious cheese sticks from Claim Jumpers.”
You smile, happy Yuuji can give you some semblance of a break. If anything, you’re more than grateful you’ve met Yuuji. Of course, technically, he is the one who brought you into this mess, but is the same one who manages to make everything feel better. 
You nod into him, “Great call, babe.”
Megumi’s eye twitches, “What the hell is going on?” He’s looking at you like you're the reason. Which… you are, but he’s not supposed to automatically assume that. “Why is Yuuji crying…? Again?” Megumi places his hand over his eyes, and you swear you can hear him whisper, ‘Why is he always crying?’
You sheepishly play with the end of your shirt, “I introduced him to Selena, and this is the first time he’s seeing the movie.” You scratch your cheek, glancing back to Yuuji with a worried expression, “Uh, I didn’t expect it to affect him… this much.” 
Megumi furrows his eyebrows, his eyes twitching for a moment, “Oh…” He places the pizza on the dining room table, along with passing Yuuji the box of tissues. “I thought he was joking, but…” He’s giving Yuuji and uncomfortable look. 
Nobara looks at the screen, shaking her head. “Ah, no, it’s Selena. Completely reasonable.” She pops open the pizza box, picking a silence. “Cried my eyes out the first time she showed me this movie.” She bites the pizza with a distant expression, mumbling, “Memories.”
You grab a slice too, “I did, too. I just thought Yuuji would absolutely love Selena.” You glance at him, watching as he’s absolutely engrossed in the movie, you laugh a bit before grabbing a napkin and sitting down next to him, lifting the pizza to his mouth so he can take a bite. “Besides, this is supposed to be sad.” 
Megumi looks at the screen, “The music is nice.” 
“How can you listen to this song and not cry?” Nobara adds, however, she's eyeing you and Yuuji. “Dreaming of you," is a certified cry song. Something you listen to when your heart is breaking, you need a good cry, or just need a good song to listen to.”
You nod feverishly, agreeing with Nobara. Passing Yuuji another bite of his pizza. “Nobara gets it, Megumi, we just need to convert you now.” 
“Hard pass.” He sits down at the table, scrolling through his phone. 
You laugh. 
“You and Yuuji seem close.” Nobara sits down next to you with a smile, “Something happened during the week you’ve been here?” She wiggles her shoulder suggestively, passing you a look you can’t help but roll your eyes at. 
But, it’s quickly replaced with shock when her words settle in your mind, “It’s only been a week?!” There’s actually no way. “Oh my god, please say you’re lying.”
“It hasn’t.” Megumi shakes his head, which gives you some form of relief, before he quickly adds, “More like two.” For some reason, that makes it even worse. 
You’re almost spiraling at that, how the hell has it only been two weeks?! You blink a few times, “Uh, that’s amazing…” You let Yuuji take another bite of the food, “I genuinely don’t think that I’m going to make it till the end of finals.” 
Nobara leans her head on your shoulder, but a small worried look graces her face. “Hey, are you okay?” She examines your face, noticing the bags and dreariness in your eyes. “You look rough. Mostly tired.” Then, she gasps like a madwoman, her eyes growing with excitement. “Wait, don’t tell me! You and Suk–”
“I won’t tell you.” You cut her off, taking an aggressive bite into the pizza. Only to remember that the pizza isn’t yours, it’s Yuuji, and you internally scold yourself. You look at Yuuji, then Megumi, then back at Nobara, whispering, “At least, not right now…”
This makes Nobara light up, “Oh my gosh, I can’t wait!” She whispers back excitedly, jumping up slightly. She grabs your shoulders, wiggling you, “I’m actually so jealous, I can’t believe you actually—“
“Stop assuming things.” You whisper aggressively, narrowing your eyes, “I’ll tell you later.” You pout, looking at the screen with furrowed eyebrows. “That’s if I still like you by them.” You mumble.  
“I’m totally sleeping over.” Nobara says with a smirk, letting her head fall on your nape, “Girls night, you need to fill me in on all the shit the two of you did together.” 
Yuuji passes you a questionable look, which makes you groan, pushing her away and mumbling, “Shut up.” Yet, Nobara is quick at your side again. 
“Did you bring the cheese sticks?” Yuuji asks, looking at Megumi, he cocks his head in your direction, “We’ve been waiting patiently for them.”
You swear you imagined it, but you swear that you can see Megumi's subtle smile. Looking down at his feet while he bites the side of his cheek, a small huff of air leaving his nose. His voice comes in shaky as he says, “C-Cheese sticks?” 
Nobara burst into a fit of laughter, falling on her back while she points and laughs at the two of you. You give her a questionable look, confused on her amusement, “What? What’s so funny?” You look at Yuuji for support, only to see his equally confused expression, “We literally just want our cheese sticks.” 
Nobara’s laughter grows more frantic, while Megumi’s subtle smile turns into a full on laugh.
Yuuji raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, you mimic his actions. “What? They’re good?” He says quietly, confused on what could possibly be so funny. 
Nobara points at Yuuji, trying to collect herself as she forces out, “W-Wait, you call them cheese sticks?” She wipes her eyes. 
Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow, absolutely confused. “Yeah? What… what else would they be called?” He laughs awkwardly, passing the two of them an unsure smile.
Nobara looks at you for a second, laughing lightly. “Yuuji, babe, love of my life. Man I will marry, and love for the rest of my days. Pray that one day I will die hand to hand with.” She hugs him, pushing you out of the way. “They’re called mozzarella sticks.” She whispers. 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Yeah, no. They’re not.” He looks at Megumi, desperately in your opinion, “Megumi, tell her. They’re cheese sticks, right?” There’s a bit of uneasiness in his voice, almost shaky.
Megumi slowly looks to the side, taking a bite of his pizza. “Yuuji…” He softly starts, keeping his composure, “I could’ve sworn we talked about this a little while ago, and..” 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Don’t tell me.” 
Megumi nods, “I’m sorry to tell you… again.”
“I feel sick.” He grabs your shirt, calling your name desperately, “Be here for me, be on my side, what are they called…?” You swear you can see some tears pearling in his waterline. 
“Uh..” You pass an unsure glance at Nobara, “Are they really called mozzarella sticks?” Your question is just as uneasy as Yuuji is right now, and you think rightfully so. Was your whole childhood a lie?
Nobara gives you a somber look, looking down and closing her eyes. Almost as if you told her your favorite celebrity had finally gotten into a relationship with someone. “I’m… not sorry.” 
Yuuji hunches over, grabbing his stomach. “Wow…” He whispers, “I feel like my life has changed.” He shakes his head, grabbing his mouth, “And, not for the better…” You pat his back accordingly, this is just as equally as a tragedy to you, as it is to Yuuji.
“So, every time I’ve gone to Claim Jumpers with you guys and asked for cheese sticks, the waiters just?... never corrected me?” Yuuji looks absolutely shocked, passing you a glance, “So, yesterday when we ordered some, we must’ve looked like dumbasses.” 
You let out a breath of disbelief, “What the hell…?”
Nobara plots herself on the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh, “I can’t believe you idiots thought they’re called cheese sticks.” She waves her hand cockily, “If you guys look like idiots, obviously the two of you are.”
Yuuji narrows his eyes at her, “Did you even bring them?” 
Nobara loudly laughs, “No.” 
“So, tell me babe.” Nobara slides the shirt you lended to her over her head, then jumps on your bed. “What’s going on between you two? Friends with benefits, situationship, maybe even secretly dating?” She smirks to herself, whispering, “Secretly dating…” One more time for good measure. 
You kick your lounge shorts to the side, bending down and grabbing some sleeping pants to keep warm, “None of that, Nobara.” You push your hair over your shoulder, “You and your imagination, I swear.” 
“Not true, I’m just trying to get the juicy details.” She gives you an annoyed look, pointing at your body, “I’m sorry, but with how hot you are and how unfairly hot Sukuna is, there had to be so much sexual tension, I’m so upset I couldn’t have seen it.” 
“Nobara!” You say, a bit louder than you would’ve liked. “I don’t like him right now, and you’re making it really hard for me to take you seriously.” Your face is burning up, her implications slowly starting to get to you. 
“Yeah, sure, honey.” Nobara places her hand over her lips to hide her catty smile, looking to the side and singing, “I’m sure you “hate” him.” She uses her free hand to make a lewd motion that looks similar to intimately shaking a soda bottle. 
You feel your eyes twitch, your face burning up even more. “Oh my god. I’m goin–I hope you kill yourself.” You place your face in your hands, shaking your head, “No. I’m going to kill myself, I swear…” 
She laughs, leaning back in your bed and picks up the stuffed bunny she gave you long ago. “You love me so much, I know, I know.” Yet, her face falls a bit, “Okay, but, seriously. Are you okay? You look… tired. More so than normal.” 
You press your lips together, moving to your vanity and sitting down in front of the mirror. Pulling at the bottom of your eyes, “Yes.” You shrug, “I don’t know, but…” You sigh, already knowing Nobara is going to absolutely lose her mind, “The whole week was–” You shake your head, just pull off the bandaid, “We did something on Friday at the party.” 
Nobara blinks a few times, before screaming into the bunny excitedly, “No way! No way! Yes, way!” She wiggles her shoulders, hugging the bunny, “You have to tell me everything that happened, did you suck him out?” She loudly gasps, “Did he suck you off? Or… eat you out?”
“No!” You yell at her, throwing a lipliner at her head. Which she dodges with ease, you turn back to the mirror, “Oh my god, can you like not for five seconds?” 
Nobara gives you an exasperated look, “What? I’m sorry but, can you blame me?” She taps her chest, “You’ve never done anything with anyone, you can’t be mad because I’m excited for you.” She does sound excited, but you wish it was directed somewhere else right now. 
You grab a wet wipe, removing your makeup, “I know and I would be too, if it wasn’t for–” You falter, your hand pausing, “Right before I…” You feel your face heat up, “When I was close to finishing, he–” 
Nobara tilts her head, sitting up in your bed and looking at you through the mirror. “Close to finishing? He was getting you off?” She smiles a bit, “Babe, you can’t throw these hot single lines at me and not tell me the juicy details.” 
“..Yes, he was… you know.” You let your eyes move to the side, “We were doing stuff at a party… in a laundry room, while my clothes were getting washed.” 
Nobara gawks at this, “Oh my god… I’m so jealous.” She shakes her head, “Okay, I’m sorry, actually continue now.” 
You continue whipping your eyes, “Remember how I told you about our deal? About how we’d only be friends for like a week for the project, then just kind of forget about each other?” You press your lips together. 
Nobara looks to the side in thought, “Maybe, I don’t–just tell me what happened?” 
“He threw it in my face while we were doing that.” You bite your bottom lip, “Told me he was happy I finally gave in before the week was over.” You toss the makeup wipe on your desk, pushing yourself away from the vanity. “I just–I like him, Nobara, and I know I shouldn’t, but I do. And, I thought he liked me too, he was starting to be… human, but I guess not…” 
Nobara wraps her arms around you, “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.” She rubs your back, pulling away while her hands stay on your shoulders, “I genuinely feel so shitty now, I really didn’t know. You don’t deserve that.” 
“You were distracted by his hot face.” You give her a small smile, but there’s some pain littered through it. “I don’t blame you, I was too.” 
Nobara laughs for a moment, “I get it, my asshole has a hot face, too.” She leans close, her cheek touching yours, “He also knows how to use his hands.” 
“Tell me about it.” You pull her on your bed, pulling the thick blanket over your heads. Creating a small fort of sorts. “And now he’s in his room with the girl he told me he blocked.” You think for a moment, “Actually, it’s the girl he blocked twice, one of them then he told me to do.” 
Nobara makes a face, it’s a bit smug, “Okay, I know we hate him right now, but like…?” She lifts her hands, moving them up and down as if she were balancing something. “Ate…” She laughs a bit, “Devoured… I fear.” 
You place your hand over your mouth, shouting a small, “I know.” Before shaking your head, “Okay, stop, I’m supposed to hate him right now.” You look to the side, “But, yeah, I totally ate that shit up. He could’ve asked me to strip and I probably would’ve done it.” You shake your head, “Back on topic. Hate him, we hate him.” 
“Back to hating him.” Nobara says completely seriously. Creating an ‘x’ with her hands. “He’s not even that hot.”
You nod in agreement, before thinking, “Well… let’s not be crazy here.” 
Nobara sighs, “I know..” She says a bit disappointed, “I thought lying to ourselves would make us feel better, but I’m afraid I feel the same.” You nod in agreement. 
Your eyes light up, remember something, “By the way, I hope you brought some headphones.” You reach for yours, wiggling them in the air. 
Nobara gives you a questionable look, before slowly saying, “Why?” She takes them from you, allowing her fingers to run over the cold metal. They’re heavy, and feel really nice. She puts them on, and instantly notices their sound proof. 
That makes her stomach turn a bit. 
You pull them off her head, letting them fall into your lap. “Haven’t I told you what happened on my first day here?” You tap your bottom lip, thinking for a moment, “I could’ve sworn I did…”
“You probably did.” She falls back on your bed, getting comfortable in your soft sheets. “Sometimes I just stop listening, you tend to yap a lot.” She cattily smirks, closing her eyes completely pleased with herself. 
“I will make you sleep with Yuuji tonight, Nobara. Don’t test me.” You deadpan, grabbing a pillow and slapping it over her face. She dramatically puts one of her hands in the air. You smile at this, “I know you’re not going to be happy with how loud he snores.”
“No! Not again, I’ve been hit!” She laughs into the pillow, “Oh, but please do. I’m sure adding more blackmail into my Yuuji collection will make me happy.” She pulls the pillow away from her face, tapping your cheek. “There’s no winning for you here, babe.” 
You slap her hand away from your face, “I hate you.” 
・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 28th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Tuesday
Eating breakfast with Yuuji is an activity you didn’t think you would miss, until right now. 
Yuuji hands you a paper towel, “Now, watch me.” He places the paper towel over the bowl, covering the flakes underneath the towel. “Watch carefully.” He whispers, now placing his palm over the towel and applying pressure to it, crushing the flakes underneath his palm. 
“Why are we–how does this enhance the eating experience, Yuuji?” You mimic his actions, feeling the flakes awkwardly poke and prod at your skin under the pressure.
“Trust me, I’ve done this since I’ve gained consciousness.” Yuuji reassures, peeling off the paper towel and looking at the now small flakes, then nodding to himself in approval. “Perfect, now we can add the milk. 
You remove your towel and allow Yuuji to pour in the milk, swirling your spoon in the food. “Okay, and I’m allowed to eat it now, right?” You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, “You won’t throw out my food again, right?” 
Yuuji sighs, taking a bite of the cereal while mumbling, “Don’t patronize me.” 
You follow suit, taking a bite of the food and humming with satisfaction. “Yuuji…” You begin, chewing your food slowly to build suspense. Placing your finger in a curve above your lips. 
Yuuji’s eyes light up with excitement, nodding his head excitedly, “Yeah!” 
You nod a few more times, taking another spoonful and chewing slowly. “Yes, I see.” You look him dead in the eye, “It’s… exactly the same.” That’s not a complete lie, but you can admit it’s more fun to eat now. Less poky and hard. 
Yuuji collapses on the floor, crumbling to his knees. “You kill me a little every single day.” He sticks his tongue out, a small ‘bleh!’ leaving his mouth, “If I die at the ripe age of forty, I’m blaming you.”
You laugh, patting his head while you continue to eat your food. “It’s okay Yuuji, I’ll probably be in my death bed right next to you.” You quickly finish your meal, placing it in the sink while lowering Yuuji’s bowl to his height. Allowing him to take it from your hands and continue his food. 
“I’m going to be getting ready.” You pat his head again, a part of you tempted to kiss his head, but you suffice with the head pat. “You enjoy your food, babe, I’ll be getting changed.” You start to walk to your room, before pausing for a moment, “Also, I’m not going to my classes today.” 
Yuuji stuffs his face with food, while his eyebrows pull together in a worried expression. “What, why?” He stands up, shoving his plate in the sink. “Are you not feeling well? Or, did something else happen?” He’s worried, which is endearing.
“No, I’m okay.” You reassure him, and continue to your room with Yuuji behind you. “I just have some work to catch up on, and some other stuff happening.” You wave your hand dismissively, “Some family stuff I need to work out with my parents.” 
Yuuji pouts, “Oh, I hope everything works out, then…” He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks tinting in red ever so slight, “If… if you have anything you want to talk about, I know Nobara is your best friend and all, but you can talk to me, too.” 
You stop, looking at him from your shoulder with a bit of a dumbfounded look, before a smile builds on your lips. Immediately turning on your heel and hugging him, arms snuggly around his torso. “Don’t worry, Yuuji, it’s nothing bad.” You squeeze him a bit tighter, then pull away while smiling at him. “And, thank you.” You tilt your head, “I hope you can also come to me with any problems you might have.”
Yuuji smiles at that, nodding eagerly. “I promise I will!” 
“You make it sound like you’re going to look for a reason to cry in my arms now.” You move to your door, pushing it open with a small huff. 
“Maybe, I am.” Yuuji grabs his red converse and sits down on the floor to put them on, “Uhg! Ouh!...” He groans, placing his fist against his chest as if he stabbed himself, “I think I’ve been stabbed, or worse…” He lets his head fall, “I think my childhood trauma is coming back again.”
You laugh, moving from your door and hugging his head, pulling it into your chest. “Awh, my poor poor baby, it’s okay.” You tap his head, kissing his hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” 
Yuuji lets his hands fall slack to his sides, you can feel his lashes blinking, tickling your skin slightly. “I…” He slowly starts, a bit unsure, “Uh, I don’t know if I weirdly like this, or really, really hate it.”
You loudly laugh, finally standing back up, “Maybe, you’re touched deprived.” You enter your room, “It’s okay if you are, Yuuji, we all are.” You glance at your room, the clock on your drawer catching your attention. It makes you loudly gasp, “Wait, Yuuji, it’s almost time for the bus to be here!” 
Yuuji panics, shoving his shoes on while not bothering to tie the laces. “Oh crap! I completely forgot about the time!” He pushes himself on his feet, running into his room and grabbing his bag, sloppily throwing it over his shoulders.
You giggle a bit, pushing yourself on the hallway wall and letting him pass you, “Have a good day Yuuji, I’ll wait for you to come back.” You kindly wave goodbye, but it’s not returned, which you don’t dwindle too much on. 
You move to your room, picking out an outfit which was somewhat suitable for a nice day in, while being equally as comfortable. Some black yoga pants, with some white socks and matching leg warmers, along with an oversized gray sweatshirt.
You’re quick to grab your computer, opening it up only to get an unfavorable reminder of the unfinished project you have yet to complete. It’s definitely… close to being complete, but close in the sense of; You feel like it’s only a few more paragraphs, but the moment you start writing you realize how much more you have to add before it’s actually done. 
Whatever, you have the whole day to try and complete it. 
You open your contacts, click your father’s name for a facetime and hold your breath until he picks up. You’re immediately greeted by his forehead when he does answer, which makes you stifle a small laugh. 
“Hi, dad.” You whisper, waving politely as you scoot back and lean on your bed, your computer propped on the small coffee table, “You need to bring the phone back more, so I can see you.” You say with a small laugh. 
“Oh.” He extends his arm all the way, letting you see the room he’s in and a good chunk of his body. “Is that better?”
You laugh, nodding your head, “Mhm, it’s perfect.” You grab a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders, “You can set up the phone on something, that way you don’t have to hold it.” You point at the desk behind him, “Set it up on your desk.”
You dad nods, setting up the camera–with a few slips–and nodding to himself in pride once it sits comfortably on the light. “I got it, baby, I told you I could do it.” He gives you a cheeky thumbs up, before narrowing his eyes at the phone. 
You mimic his actions, before crossing your legs over one another, “Do you like the place? I get free accommodation for this month.” You say with an unsure smile, twisting your computer to let the camera record the whole room. 
“Nothing is for free…” He tells you with an unimpressed expression. 
“No, I’m very much living here for free.” You push your hair behind your shoulders, “Although, I do have to live with…” You cringe, taking in a deep breath. “I have to live with two brothers…” You awkwardly wait for your father’s reaction, but it doesn’t come. Which makes you feel even worse if he just scolds you. 
He thinks for a moment, “Are they making you clean or cook for them? Or worse?” He grabs his chest, “...Are they–are they distracting you from your studies?” He seems extremely distressed by this idea, almost tearing up.  
You slap your head, “No, dad, they’re not distracting me from my studies, or making me clean or cook for them.” You lean on the table, resting your cheek on your hand, “You already know I can’t cook for the life of me.” 
Your dad thinks again, “Huh, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, “What are we going to do with you?” He stands up, “Here, I’m guessing you want to see your mom, I’ll go get her for you.” He pretends it’s a chore, dragging his feet on the ground, while loudly sighing, before laughing to himself and prancing away. 
You giggle, waiting patiently for your mom. When she does, she sits on the chair of the desk, passing you a small wave. Her face is extremely relaxed, drooping a bit. 
You wave with a smile, “Hi mom.” 
You watch as she lifts her hands, waving back. Her face remains the same, uninteresting and droopy. Paralyzed, and unable to move. But, you know if she could, she would smile back at you. 
You feel your bottom lips wobble, before you narrow your eyes at her, “Have you been taking your meds? I know you tend to get off them.” You point your finger at her playfully, “I know you tend to go long without them, too. It’s probably why you can hear colors now.”
She laughs, but it’s more gargled and tiresome, mumbled in an inhuman way, her face remains the same, but her throat contracts with her laughter. She lifts her hands, telling you, “I have been taking them, doctor.” 
You nod approvingly, finally looking at her face again, “Good. I don’t want to make a call again.” It’s a bit humorous now, but not three weeks ago when your dad—with full seriousness—screamed at you, ‘She’s off her meds!’ Which… is the situation boiled down to something funny and simple. It unfortunately didn’t feel like that when it happened. 
“You are living somewhere new? I heard you said for free.” Your mother tells you, her hands are a bit shaky with age. It’s something you’ve grown used to. 
“Yeah, I made a friend and they offered their place to me when the original apartment didn’t work out.” You sigh, waving your hand dismissively, “I’ll tell you all about it when I come for Christmas. It’s a long story.”
Your mom pauses for a moment, and you know, if it weren’t for her paralyzed face, she would be smiling at you right now. It hurts when you think about something in that nature. “Can not wait to hear, baby.” 
You nod, a bit of worry falling over your face, “Are you okay? I’m sorry I had to leave so fast, but I couldn’t miss another week of school.” You shake your head, scratching the back of your head. “I’m actually really behind right now, and had to skip today…”
“Naughty girl.” She shakes her head, “I thought I taught you better. But, I’m alright, just a bad episode. Nothing I couldn’t tough through.” She taps her face, looking at it through the call, “Besides, who knew it would be that bad, right?” 
You can’t help but feel your chest tighten a small bit, “Yeah…” You lean to the side, trying to find a way to change the conversation. “But, uhm, how has the family been? Anything interesting happened in the few weeks I left?” You pass her a shaky uneven smile. 
“Thank you for coming.” Your mother tells you, “I’m sure it was scary to receive that call, I’m sorry I put you through that.” Ever since you were a teen, she developed the ability to read you like an open book. 
You pass her an empathetic smile, shaking your head softly, “Don’t worry, I was just freaking out. Besides, I’m always happy to help, it’s why I stayed so long, mom.” You wave your hand reassuringly. “I love you.” 
She nods, lifting her hand. She points her pinky up, then, her pointer and thumb. Followed by her pinky and thumb, while she presses the rest of your fingers to her palm. It’s a phrase you’re more used to reading from her, than you are hearing from her. “I love you.” 
It makes your chest squeeze, your eyes glossing over just a bit. 
The rest of the conversation is brief, saying a quick hi to your sibling, and telling a few details about your academic life. Mentioning a few names such as Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, and–of course–Sukuna. Of which she picks up on an unsure eyebrow quirk. 
She is all over that. All of which you shut down immediately. Well, not immediately… or very firmly. But, enough to where she’s sufficing with a small head nod.
Even when the end calls, you’re still reeling in slight embarrassment, cupping your face as you try to calm down. Curse, Sukuna. He can go away forever. Speaking of Sukuna, you really need to give that project more of your attention. 
You instinctively reach for your phone, for the video message recorded on it, only to remember, “Shit, I left it in the kitchen.” You open your door, moving to the kitchen. You can hear a muffled conversation, which you don’t think much of–unfortunately–in favor of your cellular device. 
You falter for a moment when your eyes land on the couple standing at the front door. Sukuna’s back is to you, leaning on the door frame, while the blonde woman is talking to him with a sweet smile. An airy laughing while occasionally pushing his shoulder, chest, or arm
You instantly want to turn back, come back to retrieve your phone in a few minutes, but before you can do that, you and the blonde woman lock eyes. Her sentence or obnoxious laugh–you can’t tell what the difference is–coming to a quick pause. 
She waves, grabbing Sukuna’s arm while saying, “Awh, look! It’s your little roomie.” She smiles, when Sukuna finally turns to look at you, “You should probably spend some time with her, I know she’s jealous since I have your attention.” 
You glare at her, hate and spite brewing in your head, venom to spite back at her bubbling your throat and burning to be let loose. But, you compose yourself, passing her a simple eye roll and walking to the kitchen to retrieve your phone. 
“Damn, looks like she’s scared of me.” She whines, “Looks like you aren’t his favorite anymore, huh?” She sings, tilting her head to the side, to peer at you from the door frame. “Don’t worry, I completely understand, I would be upset if I wasn’t his favorite toy anymore–”
“You’re ugly, and your sexy face is absolutely horrendous.” You tuck your phone into your yoga pocket, “I would know, I saw the picture.” You loosely point at Sukuna, “In fact, we laughed at you. Then, he told me to block you, for the second time.” You blink a few times, “Babe, we both know you’re not even a toy to Sukuna, you’re just a fly.” 
She blinks a few times, her eyes moving to Sukuna in some form of support, only to see it not given to her. It’s just a side profile of Sukuna looking at you while he bites the inside of his cheek. Is the fucker trying not to laugh at her?! She scoffs, turning on her heel and leaving the house. Slamming the door behind her. 
You’re upset, and Sukuna can see that. 
“You know, some support would’ve been nice?” You whisper, but your voice grows with spite as you add, “Defending myself is fucking embarrassing. Especially when you’re fucking her while I’m in the same house as you.” You go to the kitchen to grab your phone, tucking it into your pocket once you finally get it in your hands. 
Sukuna doesn’t say anything, “Things aren’t lik–” 
You shake your head, “I don’t want to hear it.” You wave him off, making your way back to your room. “You’re clearly too caught up in old nasty habits to be talked to.” You huff, instantly hugging yourself for some weird form of comfort.
Sukuna’s eye twitches, and something inside him snaps at your words. He doesn’t know why, but it sets him off, all the weird and unknown emotions from the weekend bubbling up and spitting venom at you. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Sukuna barks at you, moving after you with heavy footsteps. 
You instantly turn on your heel, making him stop dead in his tracks while you point at his face. “Don’t you even start with that! Don’t give me the innocent, ‘I did absolutely nothing!’ Bullshit, because you did. You know exactly what you did!” Suddenly, it feels like the stresses from the past weeks you’ve been through are boiling up and spitting out.
Sukuna takes a few steps back while shoving his head into his sweat pockets. “Sure, tell me then? What did I do?” He glares at you, passing you an annoyed eye roll. “What did I do to you that was possibly so fuckin’ bad?”
You scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you turn your head away from him. “Oh please, I know you’re not stupid, Sukuna. Why don’t you piece together the puzzle for me?” You wrinkle your nose, pinching the bridge of it.
“What? You’re going to be like every other girl and throw the ‘I was using you,’ excuse at me? God, that shit is so fuckin’ annoying.” He rolls his eyes, waving you off. “You’re acting like you’re so innocent and perfect, too pretty and sweet to ever hurt anyone.” 
You blink a disbelief, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
Sukuna laughs at you, “Oh, as if you don’t know.” He pulls his hands out his pockets, sitting on the ledge of the couch. “You’re worse than me.” He looks away from you, licking his teeth, “I’ve seen the way you hang off Yuuji. Toying and touching his body. Then, follow me around with hearts in your eyes.” 
You scowl at him, “Are you kidding me?!” You slap your hands over your eyes, “I already told you me and Yuuji are just friends. How many times do I need to drill that into your head?!” 
Sukuna scoffs at that, “Right, and you’re telling me Yuuji knows that? That he’s just letting you do these things to him. Letting you get close and show him love without anything else behind it?” 
You can see where he's coming from, but you’re too pissed to care. You’re not looking at him, “Oh my god, what is this even about? I’ve already told you, no, I’m just his friend. I care about Yuuji, and I don’t want to do anything with him.” You explain, a bit desperately. “He is more than aware of that.” Yuuji knows I like you. 
“Right, you’re just so helpful. Never hurting anyone by saying or doing anything that could hurt them.” Sukuna rubs his face exasperated, “I swear, you’re just like everyone else–”
This makes you follow him into the living room, “I can’t believe you’re grouping me with other girls right now, I can’t believe you’re treating me like I’m some other girl you can just–” 
“Throw out?” He cuts you off, walking into the living room. Your expression falls at this, your shoulders tensing, while pain dancing between your eyes. Sukuna feeds off this. “Yeah, believe it or not, doll, you’re not that special, a week spent with me isn’t going to give you any sort of special treatment.” He laughs, pointing at the kitchen, “If you want, I can give you a cookie if that’ll make you feel better.”
You feel your eyebrows furrow, your bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. “Why is it wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? It feels like you’re trying to hurt me right now.” You gesture at him, “I swear, you’re acting like you don’t know me.” 
“Because, I don’t. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, this is what we agreed on.” Sukuna throws his hands in the air annoyedly. 
“Stop saying that!” You can feel your eyes glaze over a bit, which makes you turn your back to him and move to the dining room table. “That whole deal–is fucking bullshit, stop bringing it up. It isn’t helping you right now.” 
You can hear Sukuna sigh, rolling his eyes as he says, “Right, completely forgot. How could I forget the amount of times you threw it in my face during the week. Shit, completely my fault.” 
You furrow your eyebrows at him, your jaw dropping a bit, “Are you mad at me?” You ask in shock, “Oh my god, wait, do you think you’re the victim here? Do you really think that I’m the bad guy, and you’re somehow–”
“You’re not the good guy.” Sukuna barks back, “Fuck. Why do you think you’re the good person here? You’re just like me–” 
“What are we talking about?!” You yell, “I have no idea why you’re mad at me–just tell me what’s wrong, or what I did wrong.” You sigh, leaning your head back slightly with exhaustion, “You can’t throw an argument in my face, when I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” 
“That makes it worse.” He tells you, a bit more calmly than before, “You have your reason why you’re angry with me, and I have mine.” 
“But, you can’t be mad at me over something I’ve never done!” You’re raising your voice again, and you will scold yourself later, but right now your emotions are all over the place. “Just tell me why you’re mad at me.” 
Sukuna bites his cheek, looking away with an annoyed expression, “Oh please, I know you’re not stupid, doll, why don’t you piece the puzzle together for me.” Instantly, your words from Thursday bounce in his head, and his chest tightens in pain. Now, this conversation hurts. 
It really hurts. 
“The stuff you said at the party.” You start, your hands shaking, this conversation is what you’ve been terrified to have. Now, you’re forced to have it with your emotions running wild, and no game plan on how to approach it. “You did stuff with me, knowing you were just going to dump me the next day.” 
Sukuna passes you an unreadable expression, “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that, you constantly reminded both of us.” He passes you a cocky smile, “Don't forget, you were the one who literally said you were a burner phone the day before. What else was that supposed to mean? I’m supposed to keep you around after I make the call?” 
“Are you seriously saying that since I was used, you didn’t need me anymore?” You’re in disbelief, but more importantly, in so much more pain. “You just want to toss me out?” 
It’s silent. 
It’s so silent, you can hear your heart beating in your heart. A part of you thinks you can hear Sukuna’s. 
Sukuna leans back on the arm rest of the couch, licking his canines as he looks away from you. “What else would burner phone mean?” He’s still not looking at you, but his expression isn’t filled with anger anymore, it looks more… pained. It looks like.. Sukuna is equally as hurt as you. “You said it yourself.” When he says your name to punctuate the sentence, it feels like a weapon stabbing into your chest. 
You feel your bottom lips wobble, “No, stop.” You whisper at him, “You knew, and I knew, that wasn’t going to happen. You weren’t just going to pretend nothing happened, the deal was a lie from the moment we made it. We knew this. You knew this.” You finally turn to look at him, finding composure to finally speak. “I know–and you can lie to my face, say you don’t care about me, but I know you do.” It’s scary to say that, knowing he may disagree. 
Sukuna stills at this, unsure of what to say, before forcing the words out, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He crosses his arms over his chest, “I swear, it’s like you actually like me.” 
You feel your eyes water again, “You’re so!–Ugh.” You twist your head away from him, whipping your eyes with the back of your hand. You absolutely hate that you can’t so much as yell without your eyes watering. 
Sukuna laughs, “Wait, don’t tell me…” He tilts his head to the side, trying to look at your face, “You want to be with me, you actually want to be with me?” He laughs again, his hand placed over his face, “That’s so funny. Didn’t I tell you to drop that stupid fuckin’ dream?” 
This makes you snap, yelling, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you understand that!” Your chest is hurting, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re lying right now, you’re lying to Sukuna and yourself, why are you lying right now?
Still, the words keep pouring out, “I would never want to be with you–be with someone like you. You’re terrible at communicating, an asshole, full of himself, and a horrible pers–” You slap your hand over your mouth, stopping yourself. 
Sukuna clenches his jaw, pushing himself off the couch, “You think so?” He laughs to himself, “You don’t even know how fuckin’ horrible I can get, you want to hurt?” He stands up straight, collecting himself in a way. 
It feels like your chest is tearing in pain, a part of you wants to ask, ‘What do you mean?’ But, you don’t have the strength, more or less the willpower to know the answer. What else could Sukuna possibly say to hurt you even more than now? A part of you is thankful he doesn’t finish, it’s a question left in the air, and you’re happy for that. You’re glad he has some power to not say something that will completely tear you apart. 
Sukuna sighs, nodding his head to himself, “But, I’m glad we can agree. Who would want to be with someone like you?” He says with a smile, but it’s uneven and shaky, almost wobbly, “So, does this mean you can stop bitching at me? You can finally hop off my dick and leave me the fuck alone.” 
You’re breathing shakily, you instantly open your mouth to spit more venom at him, before you stop. Letting silence fill the area, it is heavy, and painful. You can even hear Sukuna’s heavy breathing. “You don’t mean that…” It’s not even a whisper, but you know Sukuna can hear it. 
Sukuna doesn’t respond.
You finally feel your tears slide down your cheeks, hot and wet, “What are we even arguing about? Why are we arguing?” You sound tired, your voice is a bit strained and small. “If you want me to leave you alone–not talk to you, why are you arguing with me right now?” You thickly swallow, “You don’t just argue with someone you don’t care for, Sukuna.” 
Sukuna still doesn’t look at you, just walks to the kitchen and grabs his keys. “Sure.” He starts walking to the garage. When it clicks what he’s doing, you feel your heart squeeze in pain. 
He’s leaving. 
More tears slide down your cheeks, “Don’t leave.” You whisper, watching as he walks towards the garage door. “Please, don’t leave me.” You cup your face, trying to hide your tears. “I want to talk, let me talk to you…”
That seems to spark Sukuna, his body freezing mid step. You can see him shaking, his eyes trained on the doorknob. His lips together, his eyes narrowing, he slowly shakes his head. “I can’t.” He whispers, opening the door, then mouthing, ‘I’m sorry.’
When the door closes, you crumble to the floor. Sobbing with a heave as you break down. You wish you could go back in time to the beginning of the previous week, you wish you could take back everything you said, you wish you never agreed to Sukuna’s deal, and you wish… more than everything in this world. 
That you didn’t like Sukuna. You wish you didn’t fall apart over a stupid conversation, because he just doesn’t care about you. You wish the argument between the two of you wasn’t as painful as it is. 
You wish you could just hug him, and cry into his arms while he consoles you. Whispering, apologizing, and explaining how he feels. You just want to know what he’s feeling, what he thinks… You don’t believe he doesn’t care. 
You refuse to. 
It hurts too much to believe him. 
Little do you know, Sukuna crumbles to his feet with you. 
・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 14th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Wednesday
Class was… it was something. You were distant, bored, and mentally not there. Even Gojo noticed something was wrong with you, but you shrugged him off. Nobara passed him an empathetic look, before quickly following after you. 
Even at your club, most of your peers were asking things along the lines of, ‘Are you okay?’ or, ‘Did something happen?’ and, ‘Do you just want to go home?’ maybe, ‘You look rough, president.’ But, it was all in vain, you remained silent the entire time. Keeping your attention on paperwork you had been avoiding up until the point, not bothering to even pass a single word to anyone. You were incredibly quiet the entire day. Even now, on the way home, you’re still incredibly quiet.
You lean on Yuuji’s shoulder, holding his hand as a form of comfort. Sneaking small pieces of his food to snack on. You’re wearing sunglasses, which constantly fall down your nose with each bump from the bus. 
Yuuji is resting his head on yours, his eyes on your head. He came home to you in your room, softly sniffling, while your eyes were red and swollen. Yuuji quickly pieced what happened by his brother’s absence and your silent cries. It reminds him too much of himself years ago.
Even when the two of you enter the house, discarding your blocky sunglasses on the counter, your eyes are still puffy, and Sukuna is still gone. Yuuji is quick to make an ice pack, wrapping it with a paper towel and holding it to you. “It can help with swelling.” 
You pass him a pathetic smile, but it’s more to the floor than to Yuuji, not only is your vision impaired by your swollen eye, but your vision is literally impaired, and wearing glasses somewhere outside the private space of your room sounds very unappealing.
You take the ice pack and press it to your eyes, leaning on the island counter and sighing. You reach your hand out for Yuuji, which he gives you immediately. “Thanks, Yuuji, this means a lot.” You laugh a little bit, “I feel like your child right now.” 
Yuuji laughs, “Don’t worry, I’m used to dealing with crying people.” He looks to the side, scratching the back of his neck. “My ex-girlfriend was a real cryer when we were together. And, you know, there was this one time a girl was sobbing at my door for Sukuna.” 
You groan at that, letting your head fall for a moment, “Are you okay with this?” You ask softly, “I don’t know, I feel like it can be so exhausting, especially since it’s your brother.” Especially with what you’ve been through, is what you want to say. 
Yuuji tilts his head to the side, thinking for a moment, “Uh, no?” He shrugs, “Well, maybe I did when I was younger, but… now it’s a bit different.” He notices the way you tense, a small smile building on his lips, “I’m guessing he told you what happened?” 
You cringe a bit, pulling the ice pack down from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Yuuji, I really didn’t want to pry, but I just feel… terrible. You know? I’m sorry, this is probably worse for you.” You look away from him a bit ashamed. 
Yuuji laughs, shaking his head, “It’s fine, I don’t even want to hear an apology.” He bites the inside of his cheek, mumbling, ‘Sukuna owes you an apology…’ Before placing his hand on your shoulder, “But, I know why Sukuna is the way he is, and I’m just waiting until he’s comfortable to talk about it.” 
That gives you some small reassurance, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tiger then you’ve hugged most people in your life. You whisper, “Thank you so much, Yuuji, you’re really an amazing person.” You close your eyes, bringing him closer, “I’m sure it was really hard on you, too.” 
Yuuji sighs, hugging you back, “Yeah, don’t worry.” Your name punctuates the sentence softly, and lovingly. His forehead resting on yours, “But, this is nice.” You giggle, nodding your head in agreement.
Only for the cute moment to be ruined by a knock, both you and Yuuji popping your head toward the direction. You blink a few times, slowly asking, “Did you invite someone?” You slowly pull away from his arms, pressing the ice pack against one of your arms. 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Sukuna?” 
You cringe at that name, praying inside your head it isn’t Sukuna at the door. “Who knows.” You turn away, tempted to hide in your room. You almost do, your feet naturally turning in the direction, getting ready to leave. 
Yuuji notices, “Here, wait, I’ll check the peephole for you. I’ll see who's there.” He smiles, skipping to the door, trying to distract you, “Who knows? Maybe, it's a solicitor.” 
You raise your eyebrows, switching the ice pack to a different eye. “You sound way too excited for a solicitor…” You’re even tempted to follow after him, but quickly decide that is a really bad idea. “What if what they’re selling you is complete garbage?” 
Yuuji shrugs, “Don’t tell Sukuna this, but I buy everything they offer.” He smiles to himself, hand on the door knob. “On his card, phone number, and email, of course.” He laughs a little bit, “I can always hear him complaining about weird magazines, or email chains he’s mysteriously signed up to.” 
You pass him a curious look, Yuuji just shrugs at this, “Hey, I can still be over what happened, but I like to think this is my revenge for all those years ago.” 
You laugh again, making your way to the fridge. “Good for you, Yuuji.” You open the freezer, trying to find a frozen bag of peas, or any other frozen bag of vegetables. It’s also a way to hide your face when Yuuji opens the door, in the case where it is Sukuna at the door. 
Despite the distance being short between you and the door, you can’t really hear the conversation he’s having, which automatically makes you assume it is a solicitor. Until you hear a very distinct, “Oh, that makes a lot of sense!” From Yuuji. 
Weird, you think. Naturally wanting to look at who Yuuji is talking to, but you keep your attention on yourself. It could be a solicitor, and you sincerely don’t have the money to even entertain that idea. 
You close the freezer door, tilting your head at Yuuji with one good eye. He turns his head to look at you, passing you a kind and comforting smile, “It’s for you!” He takes a few steps back, a gesture that makes you naturally move to the door to take his spot. 
For me? You mentally think. Who would be here for you? You haven’t invited anyone over, more or less spoken to anyone besides Yuuji the entire day. So, who would be here to see you? Maybe, Nobara with a surprise ‘cheer up!’ visit? You hope not…
But, when you finally reach the door, you feel your lips part in shock, blinking at the person in front of you. Their white hair flutters with a soft blow in the wind, you don’t know how to react, more or less feel, to the sight of their face. It isn’t jealousy, but it isn’t excitement either. Their face is blank, emotionless, a stark contrast to when you first met them. 
“Uraume?”
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Next Chapter: Ch. 6 - Forgiveness?
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Tag(s): Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l, @raininginthemoonlight, @blackjanexx, @ethereally-lyann, @fritzzbitzz, @lanadelreylover4l, @chayunwoo, @madamteller
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A/N: Hi hi everyone!! So, as of now, this was the last chapter that I pre-wrote, (excluding chapter 8) which means now, unfortunately, you do have to wait until I finish next chapter for an update. But, don't you worry too much, chapter six will come out sometime this, or next week. (Chapter 7 is more iffy on time.)
But, thank you for all the support so far, it genuinely has been so nice to hear what you think about the story, and how you feel about the characters. I'll try to have the next chapter out asap!
Thank for you reading! 🩷🥹
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245 notes · View notes
solecize · 2 months
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  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.
despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a
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part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist
  vi. the letters
september 2nd 2008 (age 9)
dear jungkook,
  my mom said i should write you letters. i don’t really know what to say here. you better be visiting marshmallow and be nice to her while i’m gone. i miss her a lot. i guess i miss having you around since i don’t have anyone to play guitar hero with…
p.s. happy late birthday maybe i can visit and come to your party next year if my mom lets me
  from y/n
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
january 19th 2009 (age 10)
dear y/n,
  i learned how to skate for the first time. it’s too bad the ice will be gone when you’re back and we won’t get to skate together. i can’t believe we’ll be in middle school soon. are you scared? hoseok and namjoon say it’s not a big deal. also, i saw your grandpa yesterday and he showed me how to use a tapper on a maple tree. so cool!
p.s. you should ask your mom if you can visit earlier this year
  from jungkook
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
april 23rd 2009 (age 10)
HEY JUNGKOOK,
  look inside the box, i sent you a book with this letter. i told you in my last letter that i would send you one. it’s astronomy for dummies (because you’re a dummy). you better read it before i come back to grandpa’s, okay?? you have a month and a half loser.
from y/n
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
september 30th 2009 (age 10)
hi y/n,
  jimin sprained his ankle during gym class. your grandpa told me to write that because it probably just made your day. i feel a little bit bad for him, the nurse at our school is really mean. also i know it’s a month away but i’m so excited for halloween. my dad got me this really cool goku costume. what are you gonna dress up as?
  from jungkook
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
february 4th 2010 (age 11)
jungkook,
  i’m so tired of my parents fighting all the time. all they do is yell. i can’t wait to be back in amber valley so i don’t have to hear them all the time. i wish i had your parents, they’re so nice. also i hate my class. it’s so hard to be friends with the girls that sit next to me, they always leave me out of things. don’t you miss elementary school?
  from y/n
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
may 17th 2010 (age 11)
dear y/n,
  guess what. my dad got me a skateboard!! it’s so cool. if you’re nice to me i’ll let you borrow it. we should see who can do the coolest trick. it’ll be me of course i’m better than you at everything LOL. you better hurry and come back!
  from jungkook
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
november 25th 2010 (age 11)
hi jungkook, 
  i can’t believe i’ll only be living with my dad soon. do you think my mom doesn’t want me? honestly, i’d rather just live with grandpa all the time. then i could see marshmallow everyday all year! or maybe you can convince your mom to take me in. actually, i take that back, i could never live with you. you’re so messy. 
p.s. i got my own skateboard!! it’s cold now but i’m gonna practice and bring it with me next summer
  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ***
february 18th 2011 (age 12)
y/n,
  i know you’re super sad and stuff. i’m sorry about your parents. we’re gonna have the best summer ever though and maybe you won’t think so much about it. look at the bucket list i made!
eat breakfast for dinner
watch the captain america movie
ride the big kids ride at the midsummer fair (i’m tall enough now so you better be too)
stay up all night
make ice cream
  if you have any ideas, add on! hope you’re doing okay :( 
  from jungkook
  vii. the saloon
when jungkook mentioned the saloon to you, you thought it was a joke poking at the countryside life. 
  “oh, it’s actually called a saloon. like, unironically. that’s what the text said,” you rambled into your phone, edged between your ear and shoulder, as you stood in your kitchen in front of your laptop.
  on the screen, you were assembling an excel sheet of sorts to assist your navigation through the business side of the farm. thankfully, this was exactly the field you had long worked and studied in and knowing this before taking on your new role made the transition far easier. there was hardly any product to be profiting from, as you had just arrived, and you were preparing the document before the time came to deal with vendors and other local businesses.
  “oh, honey, that place has actually been called ‘the saloon’ ever since i was a little girl,” your mom’s voice chimed in from the other end.
  since the turn of your early twenties, your phone calls to your parents were far and few between and you could hear the surprise in her tone when she initially picked up. but, your grandpa’s letter seemed to be growing truer everyday, as your surroundings made drew you to reconnect with what you thought was to be lost.
  eyebrows furrowed, you continued to scroll through your work. “mom, do you think he meant it as a date? i can’t do a date, i literally just got here!”
  “calm down. it’s that amber valley hospitality. but,” your mom paused, “you did have crushes on each other growing up.”
  “mom, no way - “
  she merely laughed. “it was so obvious! you mailed a valentine’s day card to jungkook every year. one time, he punched little jimin because he called you ‘jungkook’s ugly girlfriend.’”
  “and then he screamed that i wasn’t ugly. huh, i do remember that,” you began to think. 
  spending time reminiscing with your mom momentarily distracted you from the anxiety you felt, waiting for the evening to come. jungkook did end up texting you, asking if you were coming down to the saloon for the birthday surprise. you looked away and closed your eyes when you pressed ‘send’ on the confirmation that you would drop by.
  the idea made you nervous only because it had been so long since you went out and met new people. there was no such thing as free time in your old life and you really only maintained surface-level friendships with your coworkers in your last year of the job.  however, knowing amber valley and the tight-knit community, it was only a matter of time before you got acquainted with everyone, whether you liked it or not.
  by the time it was six, you’d forced yourself to get changed and inspected your outfit several times before leaving. the last thing you wanted to do was stand out too much. so, you put on your favourite denim jeans and a plain long sleeve top, putting away your go-to strappy stilettos for the night. 
  making your way into town was quick and soon enough, you found the pub situated in between the flower shop and the hardware store. it definitely looked like it’d been around since your mom was a little girl, the exterior siding showing age with chips here and there. 
  “hey y/n.”
  you jumped, having not paid attention to your surroundings. turning around, it was taehyung holding a box adorned in magenta polka dot wrapping. he wore a similar outfit to the one from the day before, except a different cowboy hat. you wondered if there was a store in town that specialized in selling just these hats.
  “hi taehyung. is this for jin?” you offered a smile, gesturing to the box.
  a pleased grin formed on taehyung’s face. “yup. i’m pretty sure i got him the best gift out of everyone, but don’t tell anyone.”
  he walked ahead of you and opened the door, pausing. you realized he was opening it for you and you quickly thanked him, going right in. small town hospitality. 
  it was saturday evening, but to your surprise, there were hardly any patrons in the bar. taehyung then pointed to a sign by the door, which you missed completely. it read: ‘private event, invite only.’ 
  “oh, wow, am i v.i.p?” you joked, following him to the back of the room, where a stack of presents were grouped on one table. 
  “of course! you’re jungkook’s friend, after all,” he exclaimed, setting his box down with the others. “you guys go way back, huh? how long has it been since you guys since saw each other?”
  you counted in your head. “i think twelve or thirteen years. a while.”
  “what, no facebook back in the day?” he teased.
  “no, he was never nearly fond of that. after i stopped coming for the summers, we lost contact completely.” you couldn’t recall any attempts for continued communication afterwards, other than your grandpa offering updates here and there about him. “we used to write, but i don’t know what happened. . .”
  for a while, you wondered why jungkook never wrote you again after you stopped coming to the valley. admittedly, looking back, it hurt your preteen self that he never tried. but, eventually, you moved on and left jungkook in your childhood.
  taehyung nodded slowly. “so. . .you didn’t know about what happened?”
  you already knew what he was talking about and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “no. i felt really bad about it.”
  “it’s okay. since i moved to town, i’ve really admired jungkook. if there’s any sort of pain, he hides it really well for the sake of others,” he said, leaning on the wall.
  that sounded like the jungkook you remembered. he was always the type to put others before himself, no matter how small the issue. then, you began thinking about jiwon.
  “taehyung, can i ask you something?” you suddenly said. “jiwon. she’s only nine. and jungkook doesn’t have any other family. . .”
  the smile at the corner of taehyung’s lips was sad. “yeah. jungkook is her primary guardian and has been since he was nineteen.”
  the answer seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and you had to take a second to take it all in. there were so many questions that formed, floating around your head and you couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any of them. before you could even try, you jumped again at the sudden appearance of two new individuals, one of them being jungkook himself and forced you to put away your thoughts.
  “we’re behind schedule, did yoongi put the cake in the fridge?” this new person was turned to taehyung, carrying a case of beer. “we need - oh, hi! y/n! i totally remember you, i heard you were back!”
  you’d never seen someone with such energy, exhibiting positivity like a ray of sunshine. it seemed like he was genuinely delighted to see you. taking a closer look at his features, you recognized him to be jung hoseok - jungkook’s next door neighbour. he put down the case in his hands and immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
  “hoseok, hi!” you winced, trying your best to hug him back, but it certainly made you burst into a giggle.
  he was the first person to remember you on the spot, which took you aback. a few years older than you, you weren’t as close with him as you were with jungkook growing up, but he was always around. you remember him as the big brother who showed you and jungkook the cool ‘older kid’ shows and games that your parents would have never let you watch at that young age. 
  “how have you been? you look so grown up! you’re really staying here for good?” the questions were rapid-fire, one after another.
  beside him, jungkook was smiling, but tapped hoseok to bring him back into the main conversation. “hyung. hyung! we’re behind schedule, remember?” he groaned, but grinned wider when you met his eyes. “nice to see you, though, bunny. really glad you came.”
  “oh, right.” hoseok quickly let go and cleared his throat, beginning to point to each of you with authority. “you, taehyung. go help jimin with the slideshow. namjoon has the pinata.”
  pinata? how old was this jin person, was he one of jiwon’s friends?
  “you, jungkook. jin said he’s five minutes away, we need you to distract him for a bit longer.”
  “can i help?” you piped in, feeling a bit out of place. “i mean, i’m here as a last minute guest, i’m happy to help in any way.”
  hoseok clapped his hands together in glee. “thank you, y/n! go help jungkook distract jin, you being there will give him a reason to yap on. let’s go team!” he raised his fist in encouragement and in the blink of an eye, he already dashed off. 
  at this, jungkook seemed unfazed and frankly, so were you. you remember hoseok’s personality to be like this - extremely vigorous and could never sit in one place. on the other hand, taehyung looked perplexed as much as he appeared amused. he only shrugged, picking up the case of beer that hoseok clearly forgot.
  “let’s go team, i guess. i’ll see you guys in a bit!” taehyung chuckled, walking off.
  you were expecting to be asked to move around chairs or help bring out food. this wasn’t quite in your cards. you turned to jungkook in confusion, who chuckled at your expression.
  “come follow me.”
  he led the two of you back out the saloon, hands in his jean pockets. the early summer air was stunningly humid and coming outside was like hitting a muggy and sticky wall. but, there was one thing that couldn’t be replaced.
  you couldn’t help but stare up at the sky, a fixed gaze. “you can really see the stars when you’re in the valley.”
  the stars, dotted across the night, twinkled and smiled down at you. it was a view that others only romanticized and dreamt of in carefully crafted paintings and poems made to move the soul. and now, this dream was your new home. 
  jungkook mimicked the way you tilted your head up, lost with his own gaze. “i’ve lived here all my life and i never get tired of it.”
  “i can’t believe i forgot about this. . .” you trailed off.
  he pointed out to the sky. “that one is ursa major and you can see - “
  “ - the big dipper,” the two of you said in unison, which led to a shared laughter. 
astronomy was one of your biggest interests growing up, having stacks of books and a tapestry of the night sky in your childhood bedroom. your bedroom in the farmhouse also had a shelf full of astronomy books, which your grandpa still kept until his passing. having ignored the task of organizing and arranging your new bedroom, which was the same room you occupied over your summers in amber valley, you made a note to go through this shelf when you arrived home.
  jungkook said, “you’re the one that taught me about that,” he turned back to you. “you actually used to randomly quiz me on constellations, it was really stressful.”
  you could see your younger self sitting on your grandpa’s porch steps with jungkook, who lazied on the hammock across from you. you would compile actual multiple-choice questions and threw pebbles at him whenever he got an answer wrong. eventually, your grandpa scolded you for that, so you changed your weapon of choice to toy balls.
  “i guess my lessons paid off, though,” you bantered.
  following this, you heard a person shout jungkook’s name. you looked over and saw a man walking in your direction. he was tall and handsome and his smile was inviting. a little too handsome, he reminded you of models you’d seen in high fashion ads. his clothes contributed to the image, a patterned short sleeve button down and t-shirt that gave off neat and put-together. he wore jeans like what seemed to be 90 percent of the town, but you noticed the luxury brand belt. 
  “oh, seokjin!” to this, jungkook nudged you, as if signalling for you to be ready for something.
  this was jin? the birthday boy with a pinata? he had to be around hoseok’s age.
  “hey! hoseok told me to meet him here, have you see him?” seokjin began looking around. “he is working tonight, right?”
  “uh, did he?” jungkook’s tone was not convincing and you couldn’t believe the hoseok made such a horrible liar be the distraction. “i think he is, want me to call him?”
  “um, yeah. he said he was returning something he borrowed from me.” seokjin looked at him strangely. “why don’t i just go inside and check? why are you just waiting out here?”
  “this is y/n!” jungkook suddenly blurted out, seemingly having no way around the conversation. his smile was painful and avoided making eye contact.
  your eyes went wide and seokjin turned to you, having not realized there was another person in his presence. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there.”
  “yeah, hi, that’s me. y/n.” this time, it was jungkook looking at you like you were the least convincing person in the world. you cleared your throat and offered a handshake to seokjin.
  seokjin didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness and took your hand. “it’s really nice to meet you. jungkook actually told me a lot about you!” it was subtle, but you could hear jungkook groan. 
  you raised your eyebrows at jungkook. “oh, did he?” 
  “you guys grew up together, right? and you’re taking over the old farm?” 
  although you could tell right off the bat that seokjin wasn’t from amber valley, his deamanour was just as welcoming and friendly. he asked you a few questions about where you’re from and how settling in was. 
  “i’m sure you’ll be a natural. it sounds like you already have a lot of experience!” seokjin exclaimed and his positivity gave you genuine reassurance. “we’re all friends around here, so don’t be shy to reach out if you need anything.”
  “thank you,” you replied.
  jungkook tried to regain his composure. “seokjin runs the bakery down the street.”
  “yeah! my wife and i used to buy eggs from your grandpa all the time, hopefully we can keep doing that,” seokjin winked at you. 
  then, the front door of the saloon cracked open just enough for hoseok to poke his head outside. there was no sign of activity from the inside, with the lights now off and all voices coming to a complete silence. 
  seokjin tilted his head slightly when looking at hoseok. “there you are. are you. . closed? the bar is closed on a saturday night?” he asked.
  “yeah, uh, plumbing issues,” hoseok’s eyes darted over to you and jungkook. “y/n, jungkook! what brings you here around this time of day? you should all come in!”
  despite the growing skepticsm etched on his face, seokjin glanced over to you two and shrugged. he followed his friend’s gesture to come inside. 
  you mumbled to jungkook, “you and your friends are all terrible liars.” to this, jungkook stifled a laugh and playfully jabbed his elbow into your arm. 
  hoseok opened the door wider and seokjin went in first, while you and jungkook trailed after. you were surprised at how well they made the interior appear deserted, with not a single soul in sight. you did noticed that they even stacked the chairs on the tables, as if the establishment was really closed.
  “by the way, hoseok is the manager of the saloon,” jungkook leaned into your ear and whispered. 
  the floorboards creaked with every step, only adding onto the heavy silence in the atmosphere. seokjin looked around, eyebrows furrowed. he cleared his throat, hoping to cut the awkward tension.
  seokjin started, “so, y/n, what happened with you and ju - “
  “surprise!”
  all of the lights flickered on and filled the room. upbeat music turned on suddenly, causing seokjin to jump and yelp. two dozen or so people popped out from random places - underneath the booths, from behind the walls, and from behind the bar. balloons and streamers began spilling out from out of nowhere.
  “happy birthday seokjin!” everyone yelled in unison.
  you awkwardly tried to join in once you caught onto what everyone was saying. despite that, the high energy ended up engulfing you and you couldn’t help but smile. some of the boys started throwing streamers at seokjin, while namjoon appeared from under the bar with a lit chocolate cake and began approaching the birthday boy in question.
  “thanks, y/n!” hoseok nudged you, as everyone began singing to seokjin. “it’s exciting that you’re around again!” 
  as the song concluded and seokjin enthusastically blew out his candles, you cheered along with everyone else. over the cheering, jungkook found his way to you again. he raised his hand, offering a high-five, which you immediately accepted.
  something about the atmosphere unlocked something inside you. within days, you were welcomed into the community and for the first time in a long time, saw people that could become your actual friends. maybe this was what your grandpa was talking about.
  “yeah,” jungkook added, “it is exciting that you’re around again.”
  “real connections. . .” you muttered to yourself, remembering the contents of your grandpa’s letter.
  the yelling got louder, as the partygoers chanted for seokjin to make a speech. “huh, what did you say?” jungkook shouted over the chanting. 
  “nothing!” 
  you weren’t prepared for the next part of grandpa’s wish for you. it was a surprise to you that you were able to ease into the town and become comfortable connecting with the people around you. at the end of the day, though, you had a farm to run and you were about to face the worst of it. 
  viii. the second storm
your grandpa’s last wishes for you were to reconnect with people and nature. nature. you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.
  “oh my god! why does mother nature hate me?!”
  the best thing about living in a big farmhouse by yourself was the fact that you could make as much noise as you wanted. you often found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs, shrieking like a bird when you came across anything frustrating. considering you were learning an entirely new job on your own, it happened quite often.
  you screamed into the void after your first phone call with a vendor, who kept on asking you if you knew what you were doing. you swore you almost broke your vocal cords when you sunk into the mud the first time you checked out the fields after a rainy night. at least you walked away several metres from the coop before you screeched in agony after the chickens gave you a hard morning on time. 
  when a soft knock on your front door interrupted your emotional breakdown, your heart stopped. 
  “fuck!” you whispered to yourself.
  who would be visiting you? what if it was someone important, like mayor kim? maybe they didn’t hear - no, they definitely heard. 
  you tentatively approached the door and took a deep breathe before swinging it open.
  “i didn’t know you started tending to hyenas on the farm.”
  it was jungkook with a lazy, shit-eating grin. it was early in the morning, about 8am, and he wore workout clothes. baggy grey sweatpants and a white nike tank-top, you felt like you were straining to keep your eyes on his face and not anywhere else. 
  “oh, shut it. good morning to you, too,” you shot back. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”
  “sorry, i would’ve texted, but i was already passing by on my run,” jungkook said.
  it’d been about a week since you last saw him, though he was nice enough to check in on you every once in a while to see if you were doing okay with the farm. you hardly left home, used to the same routine of working and going right to bed everyday from your old life and the habit was hard to break. 
  he continued, “anyway, i saw your windows hanging from outside and i just wanted to make sure - “
  you opened the front door wider for him to see the state of your front entryway and his jaw dropped. there was water everywhere on the floor. the storm from the night before was aggressive and the age of the house couldn’t stand it. you didn’t anticipate for it to be this bad, having just shoved the windows closed before you went to bed.
  “yeah, they’re wrecked,” you sighed, looking over to what was left of it, considering most of it was on the ground. “actually, that’s why i was screaming.”
  “you know, i take what i said back. totally justified.”
  “thanks,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. he made a gesture as if to come in and you obliged, carefully stepping aside and making sure you weren’t stepping in a puddle. “i’m surprised this hasn’t happened before.”
  he let out a low whistle, as he walked inside and took in the sight of your floors. “honestly, me neither. you would think this would’ve happened already ages ago.”
  you didn’t know what else to do but shrug. “i can handle it.” despite your words, you certainly could not handle it. there were still a million things you had to take care of around the farm and dealing with broken windows and water was an incredible burden that you didn’t know where to start.
  “shit. look, i have to go to work in a bit, but let me help you out,” jungkook said. 
  you instantly shook your head. “jungkook, no. it’s fine, really, i got it.”
  “you’ve never picked up a screwdriver in your life.”
  “hey, you don’t know that!” you wanted to slap him upside the head like from when you were kids, but found the strength to refrain.
  it was only jokes and jungkook’s smirk showed it, but his tone then became serious. “okay, then, at least let me help you fix your windows. dude, you live alone in this big ass house on this big ass farm. just say yes.” 
  at this point, you could tell he was exasperated with your stubborness and you laughed at it. you weren’t one to turn down someone offering to do manual labour for you, but you were hesitant to show any lack of indepdence. though, something told you to say yes and it wasn’t jungkook’s annoyance with your persistence. 
  “okay, fine. you’re real annoying, you know that?” you had to add in the last part, it was only natural. 
  he shook his head. “thank you - oh, how lucky i am for milady to accept my lousy, peasant self to fix your windows!” at that, you shoved him playfully and when he barely moved from your push, jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. 
  “i know you’re perfectly capable of doing things yourself, by the way. you just shouldn’t have to all the time,” he gave you a pointed look. 
  you nodded slowly, looking down at your feet. “thank you, jungkook.” 
  though it was only 8 in the morning, you decided to take a later start in the day, since you usually woke up at the crack of dawn. you had your entire day ahead of you and what felt like a hundred things to do and the last thing you wanted to add was a trip to the hardware store.
  “of course,” he carefully tiptoed around the water, moving back to the front door. “it’s what friends are for. i’ll come by tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”
  this is not what you meant when you decided to “reconnect with nature” at all. with your fluffy indoor slippers soaked in rainwater, you were certainly more than connected with it. you made a mental note to visit the beach and call it a day, hoping that would fulfill your grandpa’s wish for you to be one with mother earth and that the forces of nature would leave you alone after that.
𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822 @seokoutt @firelcrds @taiwan0618
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heyitsme1040 · 6 months
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Winter's Soldier [b.b]
summary : When it came to the cold, Bucky hated it. Before the train he tolerated it, understood why people enjoyed winter. But ever since he fell from the train, he despised the cold. Once winter fully set in, he became antsy and didn’t want to be too far from you. It wasn’t until he returned from a hard mission that he finally opened up about his dislike of the cold to you.
pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings : None, talk of Bucky losing his arm (if I missed anything please let me know!)
word count : 1,200
AO3 (x)
a/n : Day four of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘warmth’. So this one turned into a comfort/angst/comfort sandwich. But still, I really like how this one turned out. You can also tell I’ve mentally lingered on what it would’ve been like for Bucky after falling before being found. This is an idea I’ve lingered on for years, and here’s a glimpse into that thought process. Also I wanted the ending to be really cheesy and fluffy, so sorry if that isn’t your cup of tea. 
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You weren’t expecting much when you entered your apartment after running errands. Bucky was gone on a mission, due to return soon, but you weren’t quite sure when. Closing the door behind you, you toed off your shoes by the door before pulling off your coat. As soon as you removed your coat, you were pleasantly surprised by how cozy the apartment was. Walking into the living room, you couldn’t help the startled yelp that escaped you when you realized the pile of blankets on the couch was your boyfriend. 
“Hi doll,” Bucky tiredly greeted. 
“Bucky, hi! When did you get back?” You walked toward him. 
“Just a little bit ago. I was about to call you, I just got out of the shower then turned on the heater. How was your day?” 
As you got closer to him he held his arms out, opening up the cocoon of blankets he’d wrapped himself in. He was quick to tug you into his lap and wrap the both of you back into his blankets. He held you tightly, nuzzling himself against you as close as possible. 
“It was fine. I finished that prototype in the lab today. Then I went to the mall to see what they were putting out for christmas. I know it’s only November, but I don’t want to wait until the last minute again to get gifts for everyone. I feel like everyone knew I’d put off doing it until it was almost too late,” you kissed his cheek.
“Nah, everyone loved your gifts. Steve’s honestly upset that he’s almost worn down every pencil from that sketch kit you chose and bought three more of those sketch books since. Sam wears the watch every day, Tony cherishes the little robot friend you made and keeps it on his workbench, and Nat keeps the knives you’d got customized sharp. There’s no way they have any idea you’d done it all the week before,” Bucky reassures. 
You shrug, pleased they all still enjoyed the things you’d gotten them. “Still, I feel guilty. But how are you? How’d the mission go, I know you had to leave suddenly.”
“The mission itself was successful. However, I hated being in Europe again. I swear it’s just gotten colder since the forties. I hated it, there was so much snow when we got there. It just continued snowing every day too, so there wasn’t any way we could avoid it,” Bucky grumbled. 
You felt Bucky shiver harshly. Despite the cozy temperature he had the apartment at, the four blankets on the two of you, and the fact he was radiating heat it was like he couldn’t be warm enough. You carefully slipped your hand from the cocoon of blankets and stroked his cheek. He turned to kiss your palm quickly before using his own hand to pull yours back into the warmth around the two of you. You couldn’t tell if the reason Bucky was a little tense was due to him feeling cold or if there was something else going on. 
“Yeah, the cold can be pretty bad sometimes. I like the cooler weather at the start of fall, but once it’s winter time I can’t stand it. It’s just too much with all the snow. The way it first lands is mesmerizing, sure, but then it melts into slush before more snow falls. Then everything is just an icy, damp, cold mess,” you admit. 
“It used to not be so bad,” Bucky quietly whispers against you. “The cold was horrible, but the way New York looked and came to life in the winter was breathtaking. I loved the way the snow fell and made everything look so different. And my sister was always so excited when the snow fell. But after everything, I can’t stand the cold nor the snow anymore.”
“Oh Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”
“It’s alright, doll. At first it wasn’t too bad. I’d just fallen, and landed in this deep pile of snow. The coldness actually made everything numb at first. I tried to move, to sit up, but I couldn’t. That was the moment I first saw my arm wasn’t–” Bucky shook his head as he choked up. “I tried to yell for help, but knew it was useless. Despite this, I shouted until my voice was gone. The cold had moved from providing a numbness to painful. I felt myself slowly slipping into something. I’m not sure if it was just unconsciousness or if those were meant to be my final moments. I’d finally heard the crunching of snow and ice as people approached. I thought that it was Steve, that they’d gotten Zola and he’d somehow found me again. But I was so wrong. I was roughly yanked from the snow before the unconsciousness took over. The next time I woke up was in a lab with Zola over me.”
Bucky harshly blinked, and you could tell he was refusing to let the memory take any more from him. You held onto him tightly, gently promising him you’d never let him go cold again. He slowly relaxed into you. 
“I’m sorry,” he sheepishly breaks the comforting silence. “That’s why I’ve been so weird about the apartment recently. I just, I keep thinking about what it’s like to truly be cold. So now, when the weather is chilly I feel this prickling under my skin. I do everything possible to make sure it isn’t cold here, that you won’t be able to feel the cold. Because it wasn’t bad at first, and now I can’t stand the idea of the cold. It’s just that, I know it isn’t cold in here but I can’t stop from thinking about how cold it is outside. And how easily the cold can just get colder to the point it feels like you’re burning up. And that thought just won’t go away.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I understand, and your feelings are more than valid Buck,” you reassure. “I am more than happy to stay cuddled up with you all winter if that will bring you some comfort.”
Bucky slinks an arm under your knees and supports your back as he stands, “In that case,” he smirks while walking to your shared bed. “I think a change of scenery is due.”
You smile at your sweet boyfriend, the one that so many think is cold. They couldn’t be any more wrong about this sweet, caring, protective man. He laid on the bed, pulling you onto his chest before covering the two of you up again. You bury your face into the warmth of him, lightly rubbing his side in aimless patterns. Doing anything you can think of to remind him he’s far away from the snowy mountains of 1945. Gradually, Bucky’s body grows more and more lax under your touch. His breathing feels the steadiest it’s been since the cold weather came in. 
“You're my warmth,” he tenderly swears. 
“And you’re mine,” you kiss his lips for a long moment. “You don’t have to worry about the cold ever again. Winter’s a battle that you’ve won, Soldier.”
“Yes ma’am,” Bucky rolls his eyes, chuckling at your cheesy declaration.
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Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.
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gavi4me · 6 months
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No Nut November (gavi)
Warnings - mentions of sex, kinky! reader, cursing, (might be more lmk)
Pablo in this fic just ‘wants to be yours’ 😉
Word count - 2.1k
It was November atlas, the month of sexual torture, drop in condom usage and no porn. How does one survive November without failing the challenge? Previously, ‘no nut November’ was an easy task for you, not being a sex-loving person what so ever in your early teen years, but ever since you began seeing Pablo, everything changed.
The boy would edge you for hours, always earning the highest of the high from you. Pablo was, in your opinion, the best sex you’d ever had. Well it was between him and a 15 year old teenager, who was scared of woman and sexually awkward in a bathroom. Pablo, like on the field was a big dom, but that’s how you liked it anyways. You liked when the man would take control and use your body to seek scary good highs for the both of you. Besides the sex and everything, Pablo actually knew how to treat you well, giving you flowers every Friday as a reward for completing the week, which would often lead to sex, again. Or like carrying your heals when you didn’t want to walk in them anymore.
Pablo was as, if not more sex-loving than you. He was the one who initiated the first time together and the one who usually got you to become horny as well. He’d touch you in all the right places to get his message across. How could you ever resist.
The previous night, Pablo had fucked you, hard and long, wanting to make the most of the last time he’d get your body for a while. You both had woken up tired, and sore, with the post sex bliss. Cuddled up together, dressed and cold, using each other for warmth during the ‘cold’ Barcelona weather. (Just pretend it gets really cold there in November haha). Usually you two would sleep naked but since the following morning was November, you opted to sleep with clothes.
Pablo always woke up before you, the trainings having a toll on his non training mornings.
When he crooked his eye open, you were no where to be found, your side of the bed empty as he checked the clock. It was 7:23, not a normal time for you to wake up at as you loved sleeping in as much as your heart desired.
He got off the bed and felt a shiver run down his body when he touched the cold, hard wood floors. The little boy raced towards the dresser to find socks and ran down the hall to the kitchen.
“Bebé?” He called out.
“Ah Pablo, you’re up! How’d you sleep?”
“Could’ve been better if November wasn’t the next day but besides that I had a great rest” Pablo said as he walked over to the opposite side of the counter where you had been drinking your coffee, finishing up the last sips and turning around to the sink. He kissed the crown of your head before leaning back against the counter.
“It’s okay amor. It’s only 1 month after all. You can last, can’t you?” You asked while rinsing your mug.
“One month without you. That’s a living hell for me..” Pablo mumbled before starting the coffee maker.
“How about this. On the first of December, and if you last the whole month, I’ll give you a reward.” You smirked. “Just wait the month, it’ll be so much more worth it…” you winked before going back to the shared bedroom to get changed into street clothes.
The following week was quite tough for Pablo, this being the first ‘no nut November’ you two would share together and never going past 2 weeks without touching or tasting one another. It was a living hell for the poor boy, just wanting the month to be over.
It had been hard for you too. Coming back home from a hard and stressful day of work just to not be able to do what you wanted most with the person you loved most. You’d often complain to the other girls about how needy you had became.
“Sometimes before bed, the boy comes out of the shower in only a towel and I have to hide under the covers to get rid of my temptations!” You said on the phone with Mikky. Pablo had gone out shopping so he wasn’t home. Or at least you thought (wink wink)
“Ahh I don’t know how I’d survive if Frenkie was like that. Luckily I’m pregnant so the only temptations I need to get rid of are sweet pickles” you both started laughing at the comment. You didn’t hear the front door open through the laughter, signifying pablo was home so as you continued to talk about him on the phone like - “I miss cuddling with him, and it not being a problem if the cuddles went passed that.” Or “I can’t wait for November to be over.” And “I can’t wait for the little reward I have planned”, Pablo crooked opened the door, just enough to hear. (Mikky really didn’t need to know that BUT imagine she’s also talking about similar stuff and all will be okay 😭)
Pablo crept up on you as you were allowing Mikky to speak, listening while playing with your fingernails. Suddenly Pablo wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up, making you promptly drop the phone and kick your feet so he’d let you down.
“IYE PABLO!? Put me down this instance!” You yelled while trying to get set free. He spun you around the room whilst blowing into your neck. Your screams turned into laughs as he knew how ticklish you were in your neck area. Finally, after a minute, he threw you onto the bed and gave you one last kiss before collapsing besides you.
“I heard what you were saying to Mikky on the phone-” he was panting from the previous spinning and such. He starting laughing at your surprised reaction. You turned around in embarrassment and attempted to scoot far away but gavi pulled you by your waist so your back back was against his stomach. He started to laugh again before finally setting you free.
“H-how much of that conversation did you hear-?” You asked slightly anxious.
“Enough to know that we are both craving the same thing.” He whispered in your ear before you pushed his face away.
“Dios! I never realized how hard going a month without you could be.” You cried into your hands.
“Now you understand my pain” Pablo laughed, stroking your hair to the side.
“Y/n? Hello? -you still there..” you heard from your phone.
Pablo bursted our laughing while you became red in the face, embarrassed that she had just heard all of that.
“Yes- sorry I’m here. Pablo needed me for a minute..”
The next two weeks, you heard that many of Pablo’s teammates had gotten out. Pedri caught masturbating in the showers, Ferran with his girl, Sara and Ilkay, and many, many more. You were proud that you and Pablo had lasted this long through the month, longer than many of his much older and well, responsible friends.
You were becoming even more and more impatient as the month progressed, just wanting to feel Pablo inside of you as you screamed his name out in pleasure when he hit your g-spot. You wanted to be able to wake up the morning after, too sore to do anything and have Pablo carry you around the house like a bodyguard.
During the final week of November, you finally started to get gavi riled up. Whether it be “accidental touches” to his groin, as you put it or accidentally rubbing against him when trying to reach for something. You found it funny when he would push you off or pick you up and throw you onto the couch somewhere for “misbehaving”.
An example of this was when you both were having a movie night together and were in the kitchen, making popcorn and other snacks to eat. While pablo was waiting for the butter to melt, he came up from behind you and rested him chin on your head as you were making the popcorn. He closed his eyes for second, feelings tired from the hard, strenuous day of training he had that morning-afternoon and just wanted to cuddle to sleep next to you. That wasn’t what happened though. As you felt him rest most of his weight against your head, you began to think of ways to annoy him without getting in trouble. You decided to open the drawer that was in front of you. You opened it but with that came with moving backwards and grinding up against him. Pablo suddenly pushed himself off starring at you like you had just done a sin, which in NNN, it was for him.
“What happened pabs?” You asked with an innocent expression on your face.
“Stop it” he said firmly.
“Stop what?” You asked, this time coming closer to him and wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Don’t do what you just did again for like a week or we won’t watch a movie..” he starred down at you as you lifted your head away from his chest.
“Well if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong how can I stop..?” You responded before slowly slipping off his chest, bringing them down to where his abdomen was and grazing your finger tips along the length of his groin while bringing them down to your sides and promptly walking off.
“Woah woah woah you don’t think I know what game you’re playing. Come back here” he chased after you as you both ran around the house screaming and giggling, not wanting to get caught by him.
At some point, he caught up to you, evident that he gained stamina from all those trainings he went to. You tried running as fast as you could but he was much, much faster than you. He reached for you waist and pulled you closer to him before turning you over and throwing you over his shoulder.
“DIOS PABS PUT ME DOWN!” you whined, kicking and screaming like a little child. He didn’t respond, rather he gave you a couple of spanks and walked down to the living room where he threw you onto the couch and trapped you there, both arms on either side of your head so you couldn’t move.
“I keep telling you to stop but you never stop..” he spoke. “God…what will I do with you”
“Nothing as of right now.” You winked while groping his left bicep.
“Fuck this” he slurred getting up and walking to the bathroom. “You should count yourself as lucky that it’s November”
“Just wait until December!” You laughed. “You can do everything and anything you want to me!”
You two didn’t end up watching that movie together but you did finish most of the food, not wanting it to go to waste (and because you absafuckinglutly love any kind of candy or treat - or maybe that’s just me).
~
The night before the 30th was hectic for you. You did all the preparations to ensure the next night would be perfect. You took an everything shower, including a face mask for before, shaving, exfoliating, hair mask, leave in conditioner, 3 shampoos, purple shampoo, regular conditioner, hair oil, and a fuck ton of lotion for after. Pablo would be gone for the whole day and wouldn’t come back until later so you thought it would be the perfect time to get everything ready. You wanted to look and feel perfect for Pablo so for the 30 days he had waited would be worth it.
When he arrived home, you were still applying one of your many, many creams onto your face, using the little gua sha to mold your face and start the circulation.
“There’s my pretty girl.” Pablo kissed your cheek looking at your face through the mirror. You hadn’t taken your eyes off your face nor responded, trying to keep your full attention to you skin.
“No response?” He waited for a second before kissing the crown of your head and leaving.
“Bye pabs” you giggled whilst opening your next moisturizer.
~
A/n
Okay so crazy enough I managed to finish whatever this is in under 3 days. Look at me go. Though don’t expect this speed from me again ESPECIALLY with long chapters. I’m a huge procrastinator so it takes a while. The next part of the series I hope shall come out maybe by Wednesday, depends how much free time I have. I love some parts of this chapter because some parts of it are kinda like me irl and I’m glad I got to incorporate some aspects of myself in ‘y/n’.
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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
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Love in the Dark
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➪the one where the deployments become too much.
Warnings: swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, also new theme bc why n o t
Word Count: 2.8k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ Thank you for 3.4k followers mwah
You couldn’t bring yourself to think about the very real fact that you had spent more time alone this year than with your fiancé, who is going into his fourth month of deployment. It was nearing the end of September, and you had done pretty much all the planning for the wedding yourself, despite Bradley desperately wanting to do it with you. 
You offered to wait for him, but he assured you that whatever you came up with would be more than enough and that he would be all on board for planning the honeymoon afterwards. Really, you couldn’t hold off on planning for too long since time wasn’t slowing down, and you needed to get a move on. 
A date set for the end of the year was planned, and Bradley would be back from this deployment weeks before the big day, but it was still hard to look forward to it when you had been by yourself for most of the preparation time. 
This time he was going to be away from the ending of May to the beginning of November, his longest deployment by far during the four years you’ve been together. It truly didn’t get easier.
In fact, it only got harder. He had been deployed earlier in the year, and though that one was only a few weeks, you were still on your own. 
And you would still be on your own, even a few weeks before you were set to wed. You wished it was, but having Bradley return just in time for the wedding really wasn’t enough. 
You knew what you were getting yourself into when you began dating a guy in the navy, but you weren’t aware of just how hard it would be. All his other deployments were bad enough, but having him thousands of miles away from you for half a year wasn’t easy.
You wanted to marry him, with every fiber of your being, but you also knew you couldn’t take much more. Falling hopelessly in love with an aviator was one of the best things to ever happen to you, but it was also one of the hardest. 
Which is why you had begun pushing aside the planning of your wedding, and started to pack things away. Slowly, your shared room held more of his things than your own, with your pictures, posters, trinkets and books all stuffed away in one of the many cardboard boxes you had reluctantly bought about six weeks into Bradley’s current deployment. 
You didn’t think you could actually bring yourself to pack them, but nearly two months later there were boxes scattered around your house. It looked like you were moving in, with Bradley’s few possessions not doing much to give the place a personality. 
He was a minimalistic kind of guy, so he really didn’t have much, but yours and his things fit together, made the house feel lived in. Take away half of that, and it felt empty. It looked empty, and you hated to think that this is what he would be returning to. 
You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, so you weren’t able to confide in him and revel in the way he was always able to comfort you, even when he was so far away. Sending emails wasn’t enough, and you hated sending them, so you didn’t bother with that - with the exception of one that simply read ‘I miss you so much it hurts’.
It was a harsh jab, but it was just how you felt.
He got back to you a few days later with a reply that said ‘I miss you, too. It’s so hard to be away from you. I think I’ll be able to facetime in a couple weeks, I can’t wait to see you, pretty girl’.
It had been enough to have you push away the boxes, but you still ended up packing them when a couple weeks turned into a month. 
You were rummaging around in the cupboard that held all your mugs when you heard your phone go off from where you placed it on charge in the bedroom. Pulling it from the cord, you swipe on the answer button and watch as the screen buffers for a second before you are met with the face of your fiancé. “Baby,” he rasped, a grin breaking out on his lips when he met your eyes through the screen. 
You force out a smile, hating the fact that the sight of him didn’t help the constant ache you felt in your heart. “Hi,” was all you managed to say, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to sound excited. 
“Hi,” he said back, never taking his eyes off you. “You look so beautiful. I miss you so much.”
Giving him a tight smile, you nod, glancing up at the wall in front of you instead of looking at him. “I miss you, too,” it was so quiet, you weren’t sure if he even heard you. 
He must’ve, as he called your name in an attempt to get you to look at him. “What’s wrong?” He asked when he saw the tears that had gathered in your eyes. 
You knew this wasn’t fair to him, he had limited time to talk and you couldn’t even look at him for more than three seconds before you were breaking eye contact once more. “I just….” You trail off, sniffling quietly and taking a deep breath. “It’s hard not seeing you everyday. I’m almost done with the wedding planning, but I don’t know if-” You cut yourself off before you could confess what you had actually been up to.
Bradley gave you an uneasy look. “Y/n, can you look at me? Please?” he called quietly, his heart skipping a beat when your teary eyes found his. “It’s hard not seeing you, baby. I miss everything about you. But we’re over halfway through this now, only just over a month left before I’m back. And then we’ll be getting married a few weeks after that.” He tried to cheer you up, but it clearly wasn’t working as you just cried a bit harder. 
“It hurts, Bradley,” you confess, watching the way he furrowed his brows. “I hate sleeping alone in our bed, I’ve been sleeping on the couch for the last two months because I can’t stand being in our room without you there. It sucks waking up alone and having to live in this house by myself. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
He shook his head quickly, sitting up a bit straighter as he moved closer to the screen. “I know it’s hard, I…Why haven’t you told me you were sleeping on the couch? I hate thinking that you’re all by yourself there, baby, and it kills me to know you can’t sleep in our own bed anymore,” 
“It’s humiliating, Bradley,” you mumble, wiping your face with both hands, not realizing what you had just shown him. “I don’t want you worrying about me, I-”
“Y/n,” he cut you off, his voice shaky as his whole body went stiff. You look at him, biting down on your lip as you wait for him to continue. “Baby, where’s your ring?”
You part your lips in shock, glancing down at your bare finger. “It’s, um,” you try to explain the absence of the ring he had given you at the end of last year. You could say you were cleaning earlier and took it off, but that would be a lie. You could say it was away getting cleaned, but that would be a lie, too. Really, you took it off because you wouldn’t be marrying him once he returned back home. You wouldn’t even be in this house. “It’s on the dresser.”
Bradley felt his face heat up. “Why?” When you didn’t answer him, he started to panic as he knew where this was going. But he couldn’t let it get there, he wouldn’t. “Y/n, don’t do this.”
You stifle a cry and hide your face in your hands, further breaking his heart as he watched you sob on his side of the bed. It was then when he realized that your picture frames you had put up on the wall beside the bed were no longer there.
Tears burned his own eyes as it all set in. You had started taking down things from the walls, you took off your ring, you couldn’t even look at him. You were leaving him, and he wasn’t even there to fight for the best relationship he had ever been in. “Baby, please,” he begged, his voice sounding a bit strained as he ignored the look he got from the aviator next to him. “Please, don’t do this.”
Now you had gone completely silent, and you still couldn’t fucking look at him. 
“Y/n,” he said, trying to sound stern but he knew he just sounded pathetic. “Please, just, wait for me. Just over a month left and then I’ll be back there with you and we’ll get married and I’ll take time off so we can be together.”
“I am waiting,” you mutter. “I’ve been waiting, Bradley. For four months, I’ve been waiting for you. I can’t wait any longer.”
“Don’t do this to me,” he repressed a cry and wished you would just look at him instead of whatever the fuck had captured your attention beyond the screen. “I’m coming home, okay? I’m coming back to you, to us. Please, let me fix this. I can fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” you shrugged sadly, finally looking at him. “I love you more than anything, but you can’t fix this. This is all on me. I thought I could do this, but all this waiting around for you feels like it’ll kill me. Bradley, I’ve never felt this alone in my entire life.”
“Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please, don’t say that to me. Please, baby, let’s just talk about this when I get back. Just stop packing and put your ring back on and wait for me. You’re breaking my heart here.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, wiping under your eyes and accidentally showing him your ringless finger again. It was a sight he never wanted to see again after he proposed, and he was sure he never would when you said yes. “I can’t.”
“Fuck, Y/n,” he cursed under his breath, blinking away the tears that gathered on his waterline. “Please, stay with me, okay? I know it’s hard, it’s fucking hard for me, too. It kills me to know that you’ve been thinking about all this since I’ve been away, but we’re good together. What we have is good and it works and…fuck, baby, we’re supposed to be getting married.”
His voice broke at the end and you immediately started crying again. “I want to marry you so badly, Bradley,” 
He knew he was reaching at this point, but that single sentence had his heart beating with the smallest fraction of hope. “So we’ll get married at the end of the year like we planned,” he pleaded. “Please, say you’ll wait for me. We’ll figure all this out together, not like this.”
You went quiet again, and Bradley foolishly thought that meant you had decided to stay and wait out another month or so. At this point, he was prepared to retire early if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life with you. But then you shattered his heart with your next words, “I’m moving out, Bradley,” you informed him quietly. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Baby, please-”
“I can’t look at your things anymore and I can’t wait for you to get the chance to call me every couple of months,”
“Y/n, please,” he desperately tried to get you to listen to him, but he was being informed that he was almost out of time, and he hated just how literal that statement was at the moment. “I love you, okay? I love you so much and I need you. I need you to be there when I get back, I need you to promise me you’ll put your ring back on and you’ll marry me in December-”
“Bradley,” you cut him off, watching as someone began tugging on his shoulder. You sighed and got a good look of his achingly handsome face one last time before you were standing up from the bed. “You need to go, and so do I. I’m sorry.”
“Y/n, wait, please,” he tried to say but stopped when the screen went black and he was met with the sight of his tear streaked face in the reflection. He sat there in disbelief for a few more seconds before dropping the Ipad on the table and leaving the room. 
His whole body was numb as he walked down the hallway, his mind racing with thoughts about what exactly just happened. Going into that call, he was a happy, engaged man, and now he had no clue where he stood with you. 
He fell onto his bed as he let the harsh reality set in. 
You broke up with him. You called off the engagement. You left him.
That was all he needed to think about before he was crying quietly into his pillow. He was glad his bunkmate wasn’t in the room right now, but even if he was, Bradley was sure he still wouldn’t be able to not cry right now at what he just lost. 
He reached his hand out and blindly dug around in his bag, pulling out the photo he kept in the pocket. Through blurry vision he was able to make out the two of you at the Hard Deck, his arm wrapped around your shoulders while yours were around his middle. It was taken on your fourth date, back when he was sure he had found the girl he was going to marry one day. 
And it was true. 
Just two dates in and he was whipped for you, ready to push away any other potential dates with other women and wanting to settle down with you. He deleted the few dating apps he had installed on his phone, removed a bunch of random numbers on his contact list and told you that he was looking for something serious at that point in his life. To be fair, he was thirty two when he met you, and he was craving that sort of domestic life he had been told comes with starting a serious relationship. 
Thankfully, you felt the same and by the fifth date, you were officially his girlfriend. 
And a few years after that you became his fiancée, and he was the happiest he had ever been. 
He cried a bit harder as he stared at the picture, wishing he could go back to that exact moment and start over. He would never want to give up the memories he had made with you since then, but he would also do anything to have a second chance and do it right this time.
Did he miss the signs? Was he not paying enough attention for him to be able to see that you weren’t doing well with the whole thing? When had he become so blind to your feelings? 
You looking so defeated and sad was something he never liked seeing, especially when he was so far away from you and couldn’t properly comfort you. When he saw how you removed your engagement ring and the evidence that you really are moving out of the house he’s shared with you for three years, he had never felt more heartbroken in his life. 
He had never felt this devastated. He felt more isolated than before. 
Bradley was usually able to cope with deployments pretty well, knowing that he had you to go back home to. 
Now he knew you were leaving him and had even started packing your things. He would be returning home to a house that no longer held your stuff in it and would have to sleep in a bed you avoided for months because it hurt you too much.
He had never wanted to hurt you, ever, but that was exactly what he had done. 
Really, he couldn’t blame you for leaving. He knew that dating someone in the navy isn’t easy, but he still felt bitter at the fact that you wouldn’t let him try to fix it in the limited way he could. There wasn’t much he could do from his place on the carrier ship, but he still tried to get you to talk to him. He tried to save the relationship, but it was too much in the end. 
He was asking too much of you, and he also wasn’t enough.
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harrysfolklore · 1 year
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hii, could you maybe do a blurb with sabina hidalgo as a fc? i love her and would love to see what you come up with🖤🖤
hii guys i’m sorry i kinda disappeared but i’m back ! this is a blurb about the mexico shows i hope you like it <3
if you want exclusive blurbs, tropes and polls you can, subscribe to my patreon
ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !
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yourinstagram off to the next location 🛫🇲🇽
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harryfan1 OMGGG
pillowpersonpp ❤️❤️
harryfan2 she’s such a milf
harrystyles My loves ❤️
↳ harryfan1 the fact that harry’s son is half latino is such a win
harryfan3 MEXICO SHOWS ARE NEXT OMG
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harryupdates Harry with a fan in Mexico today!
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harryfan1 OMG BABYYYY
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harryfan3 and with his family too 🥺
harryfan4 these shows are going to be amazing
YN’S INSTAGRAM STORIES
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harryupdates “It feels so good to be back here in Mexico, this is my wife’s home country so it holds a huge piece of my heart. I love each and every single one of you here tonight” - Harry in Guadalajara !
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harryfan1 IM CRYING
harryfan2 sometimes i forget that harry is literally married to a latina and they have a half latino kid OMFG
harryfan3 DID YOU SEE THE VIDEOS OF BABY ENZO DANCING WITH YN
↳ harryfan4 WHEN HARRY MOVED TO THEIR SIDE AND DANCED WITH THEM
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yourinstagram off to monterrey ! baby enzo is so happy to be in his second home and h is loving all the love he’s been getting 🤍 happy days
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harryfan1 SLAYYY
jefezoff ❤️
harrystyles Te amo x
↳ harryfan2 SPANISHRRY OMG
↳ harryfan3 HARRYYYY
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harryfan1 THE FLAGGG
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↳ harryfan2 this must be so special to her
annetwist Amazing !
YN’S INSTAGRAM STORIES
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harrystyles Love On Tour. Monterrey. November, 2022.
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harryfan1 AHHH BABY
annetwist ❤️
yourinstagram Enzo wants to cuddle
↳ harrystyles Coming x
↳ harryfan2 STOP WHAT WAS THAT
↳ harryfan3 MY HEART
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yourinstagram made it to méxico city 🤍
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harryfan1 CUTIES
annetwist Give Enzo a kiss from me !!
harrystyles Mis amores x
↳ harryfan2 I LIVE FOR HARRY COMMENTING IN SPANISH
jefezoff ❤️❤️
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harryupdates Harry in Mexico City today !
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harryfan4 i love him so much
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harryupdates Harry’s reaction to Enzo wearing a mini version of his outfit in Mexico City tonight !
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harryfan1 AWEEEE
harryfan2 enzo little latino 🥺
harryfan3 BABYYY
harryfan4 i love him so much
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harryfan1 MY BUBBBB
yourinstagram one of the most special nights ever 🥺
jefezoff ❤️❤️
annetwist I miss you !
harryfan2 TE AMO
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yourinstagram final show in méxico, let’s do this 💚
this past week has been incredible, enzo got to see his dad perform at his mom’s country and get closer to his culture, the love you have to harry was incredible and we can’t wait to be back !
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harryfan1 GORGEOUS !
harryfan2 BESTIEEE
harrystyles I love you so much 💚❤️
↳ harryfan3 EMOJIRRY ILY
gemmastyles You’re the most gorgeous girl ever
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harryupdates “This country gave me the love of my life, and for that it’ll always be thankful. Los amo con todo mi corazón” - Harry in Mexico City tonight !
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harryfan1 MY HEART
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harryfan3 im actually crying
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annetwist 🥰
harryfan3 ily
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withlovewriting · 2 months
Text
All I Ever Knew, Only You 12: The Return
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Chapter Twelve.
Now I see you, trouble, it's coming up ahead, Black dogs running through the fields, They're dripping red, The world is quiet and there's nothing left unsaid, A million image, million capture, million dead.
Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.
Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.
Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)
Words: 5,028
Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of death (incl. murder oopsie daisy), bonding, Dustin is my whole heart, but also a little a-hole sometimes.
Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.
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Chapter Twelve: The Return
Watching as Mike was held back by some kind of invisible force, shouting and pleading to be let past, Hopper’s concerned brow as the pieces of whatever puzzle he was trying to solve finally fit together in his brain, their voices were drowned out by a continuous banging sound.
Slowly turning, Eleven’s breath caught in her throat when she saw you, your body trying in vain to keep something closed, to keep something out. And one ferocious, shrill growl told her exactly what it was that was after you.
The growl echoed in the back of El’s head as she realized it wasn’t just one. She could hear the grunts and shallow breathing of the others, but your body pining something closed was all she could concentrate on. The fear and horror in your eyes, the banging shoving you forward, little by little, as you quietly prayed to not lose your balance, your sneakers slowly sliding across the floor.
You were all going to die.
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“They’re going somewhere.”
Steve’s voice was the only sound that hadn't been drowned out by the blood rushing around in your ears. The monsters had run into the woods, and El had been missing for God knows how long. You prayed she’d found Mike and was safe with him, even if it meant she had broken her promise to Hopper, but a heavy, sickening feeling in your gut told you she wasn’t. And if El was still missing, traipsing around the woods, then there was a good chance those monsters would find her, and although you knew Eleven could stand her ground against one of them, you didn’t want to think about what a group — albeit, smaller — could do.
Especially if she didn’t know they were coming.
“Your stupid pet could’ve eaten us!” Lucas yelled, his eyebrows furrowed together at Dustin’s sheer stupidity at keeping a damn Demogorgon that had eaten his cat.
Storming back over, you pushed between the two, “Hey, assholes. I don’t care who broke your loser code first, alright? And I don’t give a shit about Dustin’s cat, either. But unless you wanna end up like Mews, I suggest we leave. So if you can’t argue and walk at the same time then just shut up and let's go.”
“We should’ve waited in the bus like I said. Waited until someone came through on the radio-”
“And if nobody answers? If those things come back? We’re dead.”
“Steve has the-”
“Dead, Dustin. We’re lucky we got out of there once, I don’t wanna take my chances again.”
“You protected us last time!” Dustin’s voice cracked a little at the end, but the desperation in his voice was enough to stop anyone from mentioning it.
Your eyebrow cocked, but your mouth settled into a thin line, part of you daring the boy to say the words while the other part of you wanted to shove his hat in his mouth, knowing exactly what he meant.
“Last time? What happened last time?” Max questioned, a frown still painted on her face from Dustin’s previous insult.
“Last time we were on the bus... That’s why you didn’t wanna stay there, right? Because of what you did to that man-”
“-Dustin,” Lucas warned, his large eyes darting between you and his friend,
“Maybe we should-”
Steve was cut off by the curly-haired boy who couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut, “What you did-”
“What I did isn’t important right now,” you painfully swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, “We need to get out of these woods and… Harrington? What the hell are you doing?”
“Dude, that was not cool,” you heard Lucas whisper to Dustin as the boy stuttered, trying to explain himself.
But you were too concerned with Steve, and the fact he was now staring off into the woods, clearly straining his ears in an attempt to hear… screeching?
The boys continued to bicker until Steve finally shouted for their attention, his flashlight pointing off into the woods. Everyone remained silent for a moment, and Steve’s gaze turned toward you as if asking for permission to continue.
Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment, you exhaled deeply and sent the boy a short nod before following after him.
“Guys… Why are you headed towards the sound? Hello? Shit…" Max grumbled, finally following after the two younger teens who had begun to rush behind you and Steve.
The noise led you out to a large opening upon a hill, looking over a large majority of the town.
A town full of people who were completely unaware of what had been released into Hawkins. Again.
Lifting his binoculars, Lucas looked around the open space, over the treetops of the surrounding area. Nothing in sight but… “It’s the lab. They were going back home.”
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Steve’s body felt warm as it hovered next to yours, and you felt your brow pull down slightly because, of course, he’d be able to keep himself warm on a cool evening like this. Huffing out in annoyance, you rubbed your arms over your denim jacket, trying to preserve as much of your body heat as possible.
The walk down through the rest of the woods had been easier than anticipated, most likely due to the fact you were heading downhill for a large majority of your travels. And now you knew that a Demogorgon wasn’t going to pop out from behind a bush, you felt a little safer. But still, your pace remained hurried, head-turning every few seconds to check and re-check that the kids were still following along behind.
At the end of the woods, you heard a familiar voice that you really weren’t expecting. Nancy and Jonathan stood not far from the latter’s car, calling out as you all emerged through the tree line. Your eyes darted down toward where Jonathan's grip was protectively clinging to Nancy's sleeve, before he quickly dropped it, realizing she was safe as they made their way toward your group,
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” Nancy clarified, confusion etched on her face.
“They’re not in there, are they?” You asked, head nodding toward the large, grey building.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed slightly, realizing you knew something he didn't, “Why?"
The screeching reverberated around you, carried by the chilly November air, causing everyone to turn their attention to the building, a few windows lighting up from flashing lights.
Just like how the Christmas lights had flickered around Joyce's house last year before the whole building suddenly lit up.
“The power’s back,” Nancy said before you all made your way toward the entrance gate. Jonathan sat inside the control box, tapping a button in vain, but the gate remained closed. Bickering with Dustin for a moment, the older boy finally allowed Dustin to bash it, and the gate slowly creaked open.
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You stayed back with the kids and Steve, Nancy explaining that there simply wouldn’t be enough room for everyone in the car if they did manage to find their families. So instead, you ungracefully threw yourself down on the curb and ran a hand over your face.
You felt exhausted. Physically and emotionally drained and somehow, this night felt far from over.
“Are you okay?” Dustin settled on the grass next to you, his sneaker scuffing yours slightly.
Taking in a deep breath, you looked up toward the star-filled sky and nodded, “Yeah. I’m good, Henderson.”
The boy was silent for a moment, trying to pick his next words carefully, “What I said earlier, you know? About last year…”
Your jaw clenched as you turned your attention to the grass next to you, plucking a few strands.
Max and Lucas stood only a few feet away in the road, and you could tell that they — along with Steve, who stood even closer — were listening, only Lucas being aware of the impact of Dustin’s words.
“I’m sorry if it upset you. Brought up some bad memories. I just-”
“It’s fine, Henderson-”
“-I just think it was totally badass of you, you know?” The boy refused to let you cut him off, his eyes boring into the side of your face as you cautiously turned toward him, “That guy… El said he was bad. He would’ve killed us in that bus… Probably would’ve dragged El back here, and nobody would’ve been able to stop the Demogorgon last year.”
When you remained quiet, despite your slightly softened expression, Dustin continued, “Will would’ve never been found, Joyce would’ve probably been sent to Pennhurst, and we’d all be dead. I know it probably felt really shitty, but you killed him to save us.”
Your eyes returned to your shoes, eyebrows pulled together as you tried to breathe around the large lump that had clawed its way up your throat.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t had this exact conversation with Hopper already, the man explaining that what you had done was brave and heroic and a bunch of words that made your skin crawl.
You had killed a man, without any hesitation. And if Jim hadn’t caught that metal pipe, you’d have probably accidentally killed him too. The thought still choked you, even a year later.
“He’s right,” Lucas spoke quietly, “It was all he would talk about for a solid week. Will had come back from the dead, El had superpowers, but all he could talk about was how cool you were.”
“Yeah, alright. We get it, Lucas.” Dustin scoffed, standing up as his cheeks reddened, obvious even under the dark sky. The boy placed his cold hands into the pockets of his hoodie and looked at you one last time, “Like I said… Badass. So uh, on behalf of us all... Thanks.”
The silence between the group felt like it stretched on forever, and you could feel Steve’s gaze on you, even after he took Dustin’s seat on the curb. His shoulder bumped yours a few times on accident as he fiddled with the bottom of his jeans, pulling at a loose thread.
Thankfully the screech of tires stopped whatever conversation he was gearing up for, and caused you all to stand and rush toward the gate.
Jonathan’s Ford came barreling down from the lab, horn blaring as if he didn’t already have your attention, causing the five of you to rush out of the middle of the road, his car not stopping as it passed by.
Hopper, however, slammed on the brakes of his Chevvy before it could pass you, “Come on, get in.”
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Your group poured into the Byers’ home, eyes wide and suspicious as you all peered at the unusual drawings strung up along the walls, everyone feeling a little too uncomfortable to ask Joyce what had happened as she made her way into the back of her house alone.
Will was resting on the sofa, still unconscious as Jonathan pushed back the fallen hair from his face, softly reassuring the boy and apologizing for his absence, Nancy stood behind him with a gentle hand of her own placed on his shoulder, squeezing every so often.
When Steve turned away from the two, pinching the bottom of his nostrils, you sent him an apologetic glance, and despite knowing next to nothing about the argument that had occurred on Halloween, you knew he hadn’t expected this. The dying red roses in the bottom of his passenger side foot well told you as much.
Blinking a little too quickly for your liking, Steve bypassed you quickly and instead made his way into the kitchen and away from the scene unfolding in front of him. Instead of listening to any more of Hopper’s incessant — and frankly, pointless — yelling down the phone, you followed Steve, leaning against the counter as you poured a glass of water from the tap.
“You good, Harrington?”
The boy released a sigh, taking the glass from your offered hand before taking a few sips, his eyes refusing to meet yours as he looked at the paper lining the rooms, “Fine. I just, uh… I thought all this shit was over with.”
You couldn’t be certain if Steve meant the Upside Down situation or the Nancy and Jonathan situation. Either way, you didn’t dare to ask
“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin questioned once Hopper had replaced the telephone.
“We’ll see,” he sighed, already knowing the answer, but trying to keep even remotely positive for the kids.
His bullshit, however, wasn’t sitting well with Mike, “We’ll see? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!”
You’d caught Hopper’s attention before everyone made it into Joyce’s, both hanging back in his car as the rest made their way inside, a sight not unlike the one last year. You’d told him about El, and how you hadn’t been able to find her. You’d had no idea when she’d left, but you’d thought maybe she’d be with Mike. But if the boy had seen her, he wasn’t letting on, seemingly still in the dark about her well-being as he was at the beginning of the week.
After that, you’d rushed back inside and away from Hopper’s worried eyes. If you were surrounded by people, maybe he wouldn’t get the chance to question you.
“We stay here, and we wait for help,” Hopper grumbled, making his way down the hallway toward where Joyce had shut herself away. He’d mentioned on the drive back that Bob had sacrificed himself to make sure they all got out alive. He nearly made it and then… Then those monsters tore him apart.
Releasing a deep sigh, you rubbed your hand over your face before watching the four children at the table. You would be sitting ducks if you remained here, let alone the rest of the town who had no idea what was out there.
You jolted slightly when you felt a warm palm over your other hand, gripping to the counter with such intensity that your knuckles were beginning to ache.
In Steve’s other hand, he held out the same glass of water to you, now only a quarter full, “You’re shaking.”
Taking the drink, you slipped your other hand from under his own and placed it against the cold glass. Despite the chilly November breeze, the air in this house felt stale.
“I just… I feel so useless, you know?” Steve’s eyes remained on you, sad and all too soft, waiting as you continued, “They’re kids. They shouldn’t be sitting here waiting to be… hunted. Because let's face it, the same government that caused this isn’t about to break down the front door and help us.”
Steve didn’t know what to say, feeling just as helpless as you. So instead he remained leaning against the kitchen counter, staring out the window as Mike began to tell them about Bob, and the fact that he alone had started the AV club and that they couldn’t let the man’s death be in vain.
“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”
“But there’s an army now.” Lucas sighed in defeat.
“His army,” something seemed to click in Mike’s head, “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too.”
The boys looked around at each other, clearly catching onto whatever Mike was babbling on about much quicker than you, Steve, or Max.
“Who’s army?” You dared to question. Mike didn’t respond, instead rushing toward the table where more pictures were set and showing you one of some kind of… spider monster.
“The shadow monster,” Dustin began, only to be cut off by Mike.
“It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”
“And so this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”
“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”
“Whoa, slow down… Slow down.” Steve sighed, eyes darting between the paper and you, glad he wasn’t the only one in the group to be completely oblivious to whatever the kids were discussing.
“Okay, so, the shadow monster’s inside everything. And If the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”
“And so does Dart.”
“Yeah. Like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind.”
“Hive mind?”
“A collective consciousness? Like... Bees?” You questioned, one eyebrow cocked in almost disbelief. Snatching the drawing from Steve’s hands, you inspected the drawing, and what you assumed they thought was the brain.
“...Like the mind flayer,” Dustin announced, causing the other boys to look at him with shock.
Max, yourself, and Steve were once again on the outside of Nerdville looking in, “The what?”
Dustin rushed into Will’s room, grabbing a large book from his desk without a second thought and calling everyone else to the kitchen before slamming it onto the table, already opened to the right page, “The mind flayer.”
“What the hell is that?” Hopper questioned, brows pulled down, clearly unconvinced.
“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers.”
“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Jim sighed, “This is a kids’ game.”
“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor-”
“Analogy,” Lucas interrupted almost accidentally.
“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.”
“Okay, so this mind flamer thing-”
“Flayer. Mind flayer…”
Nancy’s jaw ticked in annoyance before she continued, “What does it want?”
“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”
“Like the Germans?” Steve stammered, finally hoping he understood anything going on, only to be met with confusion around the table.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath, “We’re in the same history class, you are not this dense.”
Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, brows pulled down low as he scoffed at you.
“Uh, the Nazis?” Dustin sighed, watching as Steve stuttered once more.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah… The Nazis.”
As Dustin continued, your eyes shot across to Hopper who was rubbing at his eyes in annoyance, and you could count down the minutes until he lost it.
“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.”
“That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus…”
“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it-”
“We kill everything it controls.”
“We win.”
“Theoretically.”
“Great, so how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?” Hopper asked, grabbing the book from Nancy, annoyance still etched on his face.
“No, no… No fireballs,” Dustin’s slight amusement vanished the second the Chief turned his disdained glare to him, “Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because… Because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains, and the mind- the mind flayer it… it likes brains. It’s just a game…”
“What the hell are we doing here?” Jim questioned, more to himself than anyone else, slamming the book back onto the table. There it was.
“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”
“We are!”
“Even if they come, how are they going to stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns.”
Rubbing at your temples, you tried to drown out their arguing as thoughts seemed to whoosh past you. Something the boys had said had rubbed you the wrong way, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.
“-And we know it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.”
“They’re right,” a croaky voice interrupted them. Joyce made her way toward the table, eyes red from crying, “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”
And a plan was set into place.
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You helped Hopper clear out the shed in the Byers’ backyard, tables and old fans thrown carelessly on the floor as you quickened your pace, untrusting of the dark night.
“Do you really think this is going to work?”
Sighing, Jim threw the last box to the floor as everyone else passed you, nail guns in hand, in an attempt to make the small shed look unrecognizable, “I don’t know what I believe anymore, kid.”
“We’re gonna be able to save him, right?”
Hopper stood back up to his full height before turning toward you and placing his hands on his hips, “We’re gonna do everything we can. Now hurry up and start-”
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, unable to hold the words down, despite how acidic they tasted on your tongue. You weren’t used to apologizing, normally any arguments with your mother were over as soon as the morning came and she sobered up a little. And despite your vicious tongue, you often refrained from apologizing to anyone else, whether or not you wanted to. 'Sorry' had never solved anything for you before.
Hopper’s features softened slightly before he released a long sigh, “You don’t need to-”
“About everything. I’m sorry, for everything.” You reaffirmed, hoping he understood.
You were sorry that El had left, and you hadn’t been able to find her. You were sorry that you had broken the frame that held the only picture of his daughter that he dared to have on display. You were sorry he had to go through this again.
You quickly turned, marching out of one awkward conversation, and right into another.
Steve nailed the top corner of a tarmac sheet to the wall as Nancy peeled off some tape. You knew it was only them in the shed, but your mind had been distracted from the seemingly endless drama between the two. Before you could make a silent exit, Nancy turned, wide, blue eyes on you,
“Oh, hey.”
“I didn’t mean to come in here I just… Uh, I didn’t wanna be out there anymore.”
The girl sent you a shy smile, shaking her head as she continued to rip off pieces of tape. Steve, however, held out the nail gun in your direction, “Promise you won’t staple me to the wall if I let you have this?”
Huffing out a barely concealed laugh, you carefully took the staple gun out of his hand and shrugged, “No promises, Harrington.”
Once the rest of the gang had finished their jobs, collecting newspapers and flattened cardboard that would help to conceal the small shack, you all made your way back into the house as Jonathan carried Will into the shed.
Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, you squeezed reassuringly before taking your exit, faces of the others peering out from the kitchen window.
As time ticked by, Steve made his way toward the lounge, practicing his baseball swing, feeling almost certain that he’d need to use it again tonight as the rest of the kids, bar Mike were scattered around the house.
You stood in the kitchen with Nancy, the girl staring blankly at the wall as you slowly washed up the dishes in Joyce’s sink, trying to make yourself feel a little less unhelpful.
“Jonathan and I… We, uh… We planned on meeting with Barb’s parents to tell them the truth.”
A plate slipped out of your grip, landing back in the soapy warm water and splashing your shirt. Looking over your shoulder, you didn’t manage to get out a word before Nancy cut you off,
“We didn’t… But, we did do something else. We met with someone else. That’s where we were this weekend. Why we ditched school.”
You’d heard the rumors that the two had been seen rushing away from school Thursday afternoon and hadn’t shown back up Friday morning. Billy and Tommy had been cackling about it whenever Steve had passed them in the hallways, causing the rest of the school to mumble and giggle about it, too.
But you knew how rumors worked, especially in high school, and decided to keep your nose firmly out of their business. But this? Well, this was your business…
“Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid,”
“We met with the detective that Mrs. Holland told us about-” Dropping your head forward, you let out an exasperated sigh, “It’s fine he… He isn’t what we thought he’d be like. We told him… Everything. Had proof, too. But he made a very good point-”
“At keeping your mouth shut?”
“At telling the right story. You were right… The truth wouldn’t do anything for Barb, or her parents. It would just put us all at risk. But if we tell some of the story, the important parts… Then we can make sure they don’t get away with what happened to her.”
Squeezing your eyes shut briefly, you placed the clean plate onto the side and dried your hands before finally turning to the girl, “Okay. So they go down for… something?”
“Murray’s taking care of that. But, yes… They won’t get away with what they did, even if it’s only a half-truth.”
Your mouth opened but quickly shut as the lights above began to flicker, a sure sign that something was here.
Turning back around, you peered out of the kitchen window, unable to see anything in the shed. Your heart was pounding like a drum, pushing against your rib cage in what felt like an escape attempt. A hand pressed against the middle of your back, just firm enough to notice it was there, as two dark eyes peered down at you.
The nailed bat in his hand was a strong reminder of what had happened here almost a year ago, and somehow, shit hit the fan whenever you stepped foot in the Byers home.
But Steve was here, again. And if need be, he would protect you. Again.
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Once the flicker had settled, you remained at the kitchen counter, hands folded over your chest as you stared off into space with Steve standing nearby like some kind of guard dog when Hopper pushed through the back door, causing everyone to jump slightly, Joyce and the boys following close on his heel.
“I think he’s talking, just not with words.” Jim began writing something down on an old envelope, lines and dashes and-
“Morse code?” You asked, your brows pinched together as you peered over Max’s shoulder.
“Here.”
“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”
You sat around in a group at the table listening to Hopper over the walkie-talkie, tapping out the morse code as you all tried to decipher it,
“Dash, dot, dash dot.”
“C,” you sighed, not needing to look at the paper that came with the radios, watching as Nancy waited for the kids to double-check, a quick nod before writing down the letter.
“Where the hell did you learn Morse code?” Lucas questioned, not meaning to sound so rude.
“Hopper made me learn it a while back. He has some stupid code to get into his cabin.”
When the group sent you a confused glance, you simply shrugged, “He lets me stay there when I need to get away from my Mom. That was an L, by the way.”
Nancy quickly wrote down the letter, and the rest of the group seemed to let your previous comment slide, now much more focused on the task at hand.
C L O S E G A T E
There was another gate. And El was the only one who could close it.
The sudden, blaring ring from the house phone caused you all to leap from your positions, Dustin lifting the receiver only to place it back down. When the phone rang a second time, Nancy ripped it right from the wall, ensuring it wouldn’t happen again.
“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere, right?” Steve questioned.
But in the silence that surrounded you all, you heard it.
The screeching in the distance that haunted your dreams, and now your reality.
They knew where you were, and they were coming.
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Jonathan rushed back into the house, a once again unconscious Will in his arms as he laid him on the bed in his room as if that could keep him safe from the monsters that would be barrelling through his front door any minute now.
“Can you use this?” Hopper asked, holding out a gun toward Jonathan as he returned. Looking as if the Chief had just spoken an old, ancient language Jonathan simply shook his head. Thankfully, Nancy stepped in, taking the gun. If anyone had a chance at hitting those things, it definitely wasn’t Jonathan.
Your hands gripped the ax that Joyce had stowed away next to the bookshelf, your grip clammy but tight as you held it up high, ready to swing it, throw it, or… do something. Anything.
Standing between Hopper and Steve, you waited with bated breath for the monsters to get closer, hoping to God that at the very least, you would fill the monsters up before they had time to start munching away on the kids.
The screeching grew louder and louder, turning into groaning, a yelping almost, and then… it stopped.
You all swiveled around the room, unable to tell which direction they’d be coming from when suddenly, one flew through the front room window, smashing the glass and lying, unnervingly still on the floor.
A collective gasp fell from the group's mouth as the kids were pulled back by Joyce, Steve shoving you behind where he stood next to Hopper, the two watching silently, almost expecting the monster to stand up, shake it off, and then attack them.
But it didn’t.
Something, or someone, had killed it.
“Holy shit,”
“Is it dead?” Max asked as Hopper nudged its head with his boot.
The door creaked slightly, a force from the other side began to turn the locks, and before you knew it, you had shoved Hopper’s gun downward, pleading for him to not shoot.
And there, with blood running down from her nostril, stood Eleven.
Her name had barely fallen from your lips when she propelled herself forward, meeting you halfway across the room as you wrapped your arms around each other, a soft sob falling from her.
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aseaofyoongi · 1 year
Text
we belong together | ch.1
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min yoongi x reader (f)
genre: min twins au; angst; smut; arranged marriage themes; fake dating; enemies to lovers; slow burn
rating: mature audiences only (18+)
word count: 8,8 thousand words
summary: before college you and your bestfriend yoongi promised your parents if you were to come back home single you would begin dating to marry as a way to get them to back off your love lives. upon coming back however, although you’re both single, yoongi is in love with someone else and unwilling to let them go. unfortunately, you are left to carry out the hapless promise with yoongi’s twin brother and your sworn enemy min yoojin.
warnings: arranged marriage themes; slowburn; enemies to fake dating to eventual lovers;bickering; wet dreams, post college au; clitorial stimulation; fingering; denial/supression of feelings; sexual tension; brief mention of choi soobin of txt; secrets; chapter one set up like an intro; this is unedited so sorry for mistakes now.
posted: november 27, 2022 at 9:20pm
previous: teaser | next: part 2
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Confined.
That’s the feeling you’ve been consumed by for a sizable amount of your life. As if you were utterly trapped in a massive black hole just floating aimlessly amongst the grand ocean of loneliness and darkness; waiting to be chewed up and spit out with little to greet you on the other side.
Every little detail about your life has been promptly calculated since the moment you were a fetus in your mother’s womb. There was no event spared for you to decide on your own free will as your parents steered you down an avenue of accomplishments worthy of your families last name. While time and time again you wanted to snatch the wheel from their hands and swerve in your own direction there was something that stopped you every single time the thought even emerged in your head. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was or where it derived from but you shucked it up to cowardice and continued to comply in being the exemplary daughter they had molded you to be.
Actually, that was bullshit, ‘comply’ was a loose term. You felt it your obligation to obey their demands one after another because it wasn't your duty as their one and only daughter to not burden them with insignificant nuisances.
Still you’d imagine some management over your own life would be nice once in a while. As much as you craved the idea however it was unattainable. A mere figment of your wildest dreams.
Walking through the rotating doors and before you could get a single word out the boy sitting behind the front desk greeted you with a beaming smile. He was nothing short of adorable and you could practically see the bright splendor of vibrancy radiating right off his ambiance. He shone so bright he served as the luminescence for the entire room, “Jiminie, you are glowing.”
There was a gleam sparkling in his eyes at your emphatic display of affection. Jimin was special to you—he was a genuine friend. One you’d make entirely on your own without the need of your parents’ influence of persuasion.
“What can I say. I’m a different man than I was two days ago.” He dusted off the implied dust of the yoke of his black button up as a way to exhibit a hint of pride. Although you knew the reasoning for his puffed chest and radiant grin you decided on teasing him anyway.
“Hm. . I can’t recall anything happening in the past couple of days.” You rubbed your chin pretending to be hurdling around a million thoughts.
Which technically you were daily.. but not because of this and never because of Jimin.
“Seriously?” He pouted, looking a bit deflated like a balloon running low on helium and you couldn't stand to see the sad puppy dog eyes substituting his usual sparkle.
“Of course not. I could never forget my second favorite day of the year right behind my own birthday.” You pulled out a small white box tied in a navy blue ribbon. His favorite color. “Happy birthday, Jiminie.”
His gasped was louder than you expected and the patrons who loitered around the lobby immediately turned their lurking eyes in your direction but neither of you cared. “You really shouldn’t have.”
“Nonsense. Besides, what are friends for?”
“These look so expensive,” he whispered as the opened gift box sat opened on his petite palms displaying the present you had worked on for months. A small pair of sterling silver hoops with the letters ‘JM’ engraved in the inner top corner of the earring. “You didn’t have to.”
“You deserve way more than this, Jimin-ah Plus the big two-one should be celebrated appropriately. Are you doing anything special this weekend?”
“I was planning on going out with someone this weekend but I don’t know if they’ll have the time anymore,” he shrugged. “Apparently, something super secretive came up.”
“Well if the loser ditches. You know I’m always down to party.” You extended your hands to pinch at his roseate cheeks. They truly resembled the softness and intricate tint of strawberry mochi, “I can’t believe you're getting so old already.”
“Ouch,” he smacked your hand away. “You sound exactly like my mother.”
“Correction! I am like your mother. I’ve practically raised you for the past 3 years.”
“You’re only 4 years older than me.”
“It might as well be a ten year difference.” The younger chuckled at your dramatic antics which resulted in you eventually joining along.
“Today after work I have uni orientation but how about we meet up-”
“Back it up,” You interrupted, holding onto his hand tightly. “‘Uni’ as in University?”
“That’s right,” he beamed, “majoring in dance.”
Jimin’s enthusiasm was evident in the way his voice glossed over your tympanum with its delicate velvet vibration. His pitch was just a bit higher than usual and you’d immediately notice how his cheeks curved into an adoring smile—the way he talked about dance. That was the exact way you felt towards painting. The only difference between the two of you was he had a vacant street and a straightforward road ahead to follow. While you stood at the start line with a business degree you had no desire of obtaining in the first place and dozens of obstacles in your way. Thrown in your path by your very own mother and father.
You were happy for him—but you resented his freedom.
“I’m so happy for you. I hope I’m automatically invited to all of the showcases to come.”
“Without a doubt.”
You painted your softest on your cheeks. “Please let me know if you ever need help with anything for school. Promise me, Jiminie?”
“Promise.”
“Keep me updated on your birthday plans,” you walked towards the elevators pressing the first button before it lit up white but the doors remained closed. “I forgot to ask. Is he in yet?”
“I think so. I punched in about an hour ago but I haven’t seen him leave or anything.” Jimin’s demeanor shifted at the mention of your best friend. There were remnants of nervousness in his motions as he fidgeted around with one of the many silver bands hugging his fingers. A habit you’d notice he’d adopt when in distress but you didn’t question it, “I guess I’ll surprise him.”
He spoke almost in a whisper, “you can invite him if you want.”
“Yoongi?”
He nodded.
“I’ll let him know.”
The younger boy nodded but words failed to follow. He remained as quiet as a mouse. The usual richness of his chocolate eyes was dulled down and he never bothered to meet your eyes once as the elevator doors opened.
“See you later, Jiminie.” You stepped into the mirrored walls of the four by four elevator waving him off as the doors began to shut slowly—he waved back.
“See you later.”
The ride up to the 50th floor was shorter than you remembered but you supposed you were distracted by the dozens of thoughts colliding in your head. The main one sitting at the forefront was Jimin’s hostile — tense even — reaction at the mention of Yoongi’s name. To you it was no secret that between the two of them another world war could ensue as they agreed on very little and argued about a lot more but this time it just felt different and you couldn’t figure out why.
The elevator dinged indicating you’d made it to your destination. The digital numeric pad appeared to the left side of the elevator and you quickly punched in the code before the steel doors opened, granting you access to your bestfriends loft.
“Yoongi?” You called out, walking deeper into his home, past the foyer and down the hallway leading you to the living room area. His apartment was in utter disarray. There were shoes, pillows, blankets, clothes and countless objects scattered all over the floor. While a multitude of takeout containers were spread all over the coffee table still containing food that had to be at least a couple of days old. A simple whiff sent your nostrils into a frenzy as the putrid stench overtook the atmosphere. As a result, you pinched your nose to avoid anymore of the horrid smell invading your senses.
Walking past the leather L-shaped couch you set your things on the kitchen island and immediately the mountain of dishes accumulating in the sink.
This was so unlike him.
If there was one perpetual detail you’d become familiar with in all your years knowing Yoongi, it was his cleanliness. And the lack of organization around you only sent a troubling worry to course through you only imagining the worst of events to have unfolded. Your shaky hands reached into your bag for your phone, immediately pulling up his number from your contact list.
No answer. You dialed again—nothing.
Suddenly, your ears became alarmed by a soulful voice.. humming. The melodic vibrato was coming from the direction of Yoongi’s bedroom and even in the distance set out between you and him you could tell the person knew how to carry a tune. That definitely was not Yoongi.
For a second you feared you might be interrupting one of his rendezvous but Jimin hadn’t alerted you of anyone being over.
“Yoongi. .” You called out again a bit louder but you were not met with a response, just the continued rhythmic hum bouncing off the walls—it was soothing and silky and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. In the back of your mind you know you should feel uneasy but the saccharine voice was hypnotic, recognizable to your ears even and you were enthralled by his sweet song like a snake to a pied piper.
The vexatious ring of the elevator rang behind you followed by the click clacking of shoes against the marble floor.
“Yoongi?” Realistically, you knew you were an idiot for yelling out into the void but in your defense. . Fine, there was nothing to defend. It was downright fatuous on your part. Entirely hypocritical after having made fun of protagonists in horror movies for doing the exact same thing.
“Yes. .” His tone was puzzling and although your impromptu visit was definitely unannounced it wasn’t entirely out of the blue. Your name tasted of lemons against his rose tinted lips, “what are you doing here?”
You rounded the corner into the main foyer and there he was. His skin mimicked the pale tints of ivory. He raked his fingers through his auburn locs displaying the sudden panic in his cafe noir tinted eyes stripping them of their usual shine.
“I texted you last week,” you waved your phone in your hand. “I told you I would be coming to visit after being away for the past few weeks.”
“Right. .” he nodded, “right.”
He forgot.
He never forgets, yet he forgot.
“I just—” there were beads of sweat glistening his temples. “I expected you a little later on in the day is all.”
And now he lied.
Yoongi would never lie to you.
You swallowed the lump sitting in your throat. It was hard to stand before someone you’ve known most of your life and feel so unfamiliar with the version of them you used to know. “Time has never been an issue before. If you prefer I can leave and come back later.”
“No,” He plopped all the bags he’d been carrying down on the floor. Cleaning supplies? Understandable considering your surroundings. “Please stay. I’ve just been dealing with something.”
“Does it involve Jiminie?”
“Jimin?”
You nodded.
“Why? Did he mention anything?”
“Is there anything to account for?” You crossed your arms at your chest. Your attempt at looking a bit more serious. Hoping he’d spill whatever the fuck happened with Jimin which they both seemed to be hiding from you.
“No. .” he stuttered. Not very convincing.
“Are you asking or telling me, Min Yoongi?” your tone was rugged and if you were a rose your thorns would be piercing right through his flesh.
“Telling. .” His words were still sitting on a balance between an inquiry and a statement and Yoongi himself seemed to not be entirely sure which he believed the most, “I’m telling you.”
“Can you listen to yourself Yoongi?” You roared. “Are you really believing the words coming out of your own mouth right now?”
“You’re asking way too many fucking questions,” he scratched the back of his head. “My head cannot tolerate it right now please.”
“Bullshit.”
“No—not bullshit. You are really causing me a throbbing migraine.”
“No.” You hissed, “you did that to yourself.”
“Did you come over just to fight?”
“Not exactly. . but it seems that’s the route you’ve driven us down. So nice to have you back in town.” You walked back to fetch your bag from the kitchen, “by the way your house smells like shit.”
“Well that’s totally my bad.” His voice was bass almost reaching the deepest depths of the undiscovered sea. The sound in the utterance of his words rumbled behind you like an unexpected spark of thunder causing a nimbostratus cloud to near as the azure sky you were used to turned to a dark gray hue. You felt a gaping hole developing in your stomach—slowly swallowing your entire being. So you stood waiting to be sucked in and vanish into thin air.
It couldn’t be.
“Are you just gonna stand there like a fucking statue?” he snickered.
“I’m hoping you would actually disappear.”
“Ah, just as. . peculiar as I remember.”
Yoongi’s eyes inflated to the size of golf balls as he entered the kitchen. He either didn’t know his idiot brother was in town OR he didn’t expect you to find out his idiot brother was in town.
Either way, paired with the secrecy in whatever the fuck was going with Jimin; this was yet another thing he kept from you.
“Were you ever going to tell me that he was back in town?” you were fuming with rage and any more unfounded words would have you reaching a venomous pique you hadn’t reached with Yoongi in a long long time.
“I was going to,” he took a deep breath. “Perhaps, initially I thought I wouldn’t have to.”
“Which one is it?” you tapped at the marble floor with the toe box of your red bottoms. Your back still turned towards the unwanted intruder standing behind you.
“Actually. .” he began, “this is why I was expecting you a bit later in the day.”
“Go on.”
“I needed to propose something to you,” Another thunder blared but this time it was nearer. So close you felt its vibration through your body. “To the both of you.”
“Well. .” Yoojin whispered in your ear, closing the distance between the two of you. His words were lento in their pace and so mellow. You despised the way his euphonious voice was fucking sweet like honey and most of all you hated the way the continued to effect you after so many years, “I already know but we still have to fill you in.”
You turned around to push him away but instead your eyes gravitated towards his towel that was disposed of on the floor near the frame of the kitchen door. His bare physique was completely exposed to your eyes. He was as captivating as you remember and though Yoojin wasn’t chiseled by any means, he was much more captivating than any Greek god who had been marbled into a statue. Not to mention, those pieces of so called art didn’t have a third fucking leg for a dick. He brushed his long black locs back exposing the rich tone of his skin's golden hue. “Yoojin, you wanna stop eye fucking her and put your towel back on?” Yoongi hissed.
You shook your head forcing yourself back to reality. Calling on sane thoughts and drifting your thoughts away from Yoojin and the reminder of his beautiful and massive cock.
“But I like having it all out,” he snickered. “Especially if there’s an audience.”
Yoongi walked past the two of you and grabbed the towel before throwing it in Yoojin’s direction. Your eyes remained on his slender fingers as he wrapped the rectangular fabric low on his waist.
You hated yourself for feeling as if you were still in the palm of his hands even after he did what he did and even after being away for such a long time.
You hate him. He means nothing to you.
“So about that proposition. .”
“Right.” You pointed towards Yoojin, “how come the evil twin already knows but I don’t?”
“He’s been here for the past three days.”
“Three days?” you muttered through clenched teeth.
“Now before you get mad at me again,” Yoongi cleared his throat and Yoojin pranced around the room semi-naked reaching for the handle of the refrigerator. The towel hung low on his body and you despised admitting you were enchanted by him once again there was a part of you hoping it would accidentally slip off. Besides, your last good memory of Yoojin featured him being nude anyway. “I wasn’t here when he invaded my house. I was away.”
“But aren’t you glad I found my way back home?” he raved. His hands flailed in the air signaling his brother to proceed. But that wasn’t cause for your perturbation, it was the cynical smile plastered on Yoojin’s face.
“Go on.”
You raised an eyebrow in your bestfriends direction as he took a seat on the stool beside you. Seemingly consumed by his own thoughts and although his mouth opened more than once there were no actual words being spoken. And while you understood he might need a minute to communicate whatever it was he needed to say. You were slowly dissolving into a puddle of apprehension. Although, you didn't know the precise reason for being here in this position, you couldn’t shake off the anxiousness coursing through your body. Despite what you felt you opted to accompany him in silence deducing perhaps all he needed was a moment of peace. Perhaps, all he needed was you to be there even if it was just like this.
“Yoongi?” You snaked your hand under his intertwining your fingers together, “what is the proposition.”
Though you weren’t looking at him you could feel his eyes burning a hole on you from across the room.
“It’s less of a proposition.. more of a favor.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You promise not to fight with me?” he rested his head on your shoulder.
“I promise.” You held your breath as you levitated above the cerulean sea. It was calm, for now.
Seven words were all it took to leave you sitting speechless with no thoughts baring consciousness to even compose a single sentence. The ocean beneath you no longer lapped its miniscule waves whispering their timid tune, the surf was ravenous and his fucking words had you decending deeper and deeper into the roaring waters.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi. What exactly do you need me to do?”
“A decoy.”
“A decoy?” you inquired.
“A decoy.” Yoojin confirmed, “you do know what that is right?.”
You ignored him. Directing your attention to your best friend, “And you want me to. .”
“I want you to date Yoojin who will be pretending to be me.”
“Why?”
“While you were gone. .” his clammy hands held onto yours a bit tighter, “my parents in agreement with yours provided me with an ultimatum and it was birthed from that ridiculous promise you and I made to them like four years ago.”
“The promise?” your eyebrows scrunched up together shooting him a puzzled look.
He nodded. “The dating to marry promise.”
“That fucking promise?” You scoffed. “We made that to get him off our backs before college. They were setting us up with people we didn’t even know.”
“I’m so fucking glad I left.” Yoojin whispered.
Although, you wanted to be upset at his irreverent comment—he was right. He was always adamant in wanting to opt out of this manufactured lifestyle and actually had the courage to simply walk away but unlike him you and Yoongi were the cowards who you stuck around. Enduring every fucking obstacle your parents chucked your way with a graceful smile still plastered on your faces to satisfy their perfect child syndrome. The two of you were fucking masochistic.
“We didn’t actually mean it though,” you stammered. . your mind was in a haze, struggling to find your way to the surface as you continued to sink deeper under the blue blankets of the sea, “. .but that is not what you want, Yoongi. It is not what I want.”
“When have they spared us our feelings? Our privacy? I met someone you know.” He sounded so fragile as if his heart would break at any moment. Perhaps it already has.
One thing was certain, your heart was already shattered into dozens of tiny irreparable pieces. You had nothing to lose just the condemning perpetuation of a love-less marriage to an affluent tycoon. There wouldn’t be happiness but it’d be something you could endure. Yoongi on the other hand.
He couldn’t.
“And I’m guessing this is where the proposition comes in?”
“Yes, unfortunately. Upon coming back from my vacation Yoojin decided to sporadically visit. He was already at my house. And during that same time our parents phoned me telling me about their plans for us. For our future.. but I’ve met someone who doesn’t know about the wicked ways of our family and I cannot let him go.”
“And I really have to fake date this idiot?”
“I think you mean this handsome idiot,” He stood behind you on the stool placing his chin up on your other shoulder. The proximity between the two of you became miniscule the closer he pressed his chest against your back. You wanted to push him off you but your body betrayed you and it selfishly craved the heat radiating from his semi naked figure like an itch finally being scratched.
“No, that’s not at all what I meant,” you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t worry it won’t be for long.” Yoongi reassured you, “I won’t take forever. I promise.”
“Forever’s a long time.” A nippy shiver ran down your spine when his minty breath crashed against the nape of your neck as he chanted his tempestuous locution. The pool of arousal between your thighs seeped on to your panties. All you could think about was his carnal utter vocalizing his filthy desires to you as he fucks you agaisnt the island or maybe the counters or against every single piece of furniture in this apartment.
“This will never be synonymous to forever,” you scoffed hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your legs were pressed just so tightly onto one another.
“Do you thrive on being annoying?” Yoongi interrupted your sinful thoughts.
“No. But I know you enjoy cockblocking.” Yoojin winked at you.
“There is no cock to block.”
His thunderous laugh rumbled through the walls of the apartment as he exited the kitchen.
Your eyes followed after him, “can I just get back to you later? I need to think about this.”
Yoongi hummed, “I’ll be a text or call away.”
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Arriving back at your apartment was a breath of fresh air—though, it was quiet and lonely on most nights. Having a space away from your parents house and their controlling nature was peaceful. Not to say they didn’t just barge in here sometimes but you’d figure dealing with them sometimes was better than dealing with them all the time.
You kicked your shoes off by the door and placed your purse and keys on the entryway table stationed near the front door.
Yoojin was back. You were boggled by the realization as it hit you once again. No matter how many times you repeated it in your head it sounded false—like your mind was playing a trick on you.
Except it wasn’t.
He was back.
And now you have to date him. . This felt like a wicked curse bestowed upon you by your worst enemy and you couldn’t imagine coming out of the whole ordeal sane and in one piece.
But you have to.
Except, the terms of this whole charade replayed in your head as Yoongi uttered them off to you.
‘You will be a couple. You have to kiss, hold hands, be affectionate and actually look like you mean it. Our parents will be watching the two of you two carefully and while you are you, Yoojin will be me.’
You knew Yoongi wasn’t doing it out of wickedness.. he was completely oblivious to what had happened between the two of you but it still felt so cruel.
So fucking cruel.
You plopped on the bed following an exasperated sigh staring up at the eggshell ceiling. A flood of memories coursed through your head—all of them having one common denominator: Min Yoojin.
If you were going to get into specifics your story with the Min twins began the first day of sixth grade when they began middle school as the new kids in town. Yoongi was placed in your class and the two of you shared nearly every class together. You’d remember the first day the teacher introduced him to the class. All of your classmates were indifferent to the boy standing in the front of the class; they were all distracted by their own doings. Some on their phones while others simply ignored the situation entirely as only a few pairs of eyes lifted up to catch a glance at him but your attention remained on him from the moment he walked in.
“Yoongi.” you repeated to yourself.
The soft curves of his timid smile were dulcet—painted in the pastel undertones of comfort and familiarity. You didn’t know him, not yet. . but it sure felt as if you did. In no time that feeling became a reality, as you got to know him real well, real quickly when the both of you connected instantly.
What you didn’t bargain for however was Yoongi’s mischievous twin brother—older by a whopping 2 minutes he’d often argued.
Min Yoojin.
The moment you laid eyes on him your world shifted. Though, he shared the same face as your best friend. He was just . . so goddamn different. While Yoongi kept his hair in a bowl cut his fringe covering nearly half of his face Yoojin kept his short with a middle part framing his petite face, golden skin and dark brown eyes. He used to dress in black while Yoongi’s wardrobe was colorful and bright. They were complete opposites. Yoojin was also an introvert, reserved and kept to himself all of time. Adding to the mysterious aura everyone wanted to crack. Yourself included but unlike the other you kept your distance.
You weren’t really sure why you did. You just knew you didn’t want anything to come between your friendship with Yoongi.
For a long amount of years you kept at the promise you made to yourself but the more time you spent around him (and between sneaky glances and scarce verbal encounters which you often re-lived bashfully under the safety of your bed sheets) the deeper your crush developed.
Your first mistake was developing feelings and the second was that moment of weakness you had succumbed to which led everything to crash and burn to ashes.
Your continuous mistake however was the way your heart continued to palpitate increasingly at the mention of his name—it was obvious in the way your body reacted to him, desiring his touch and attention even now.
There was a slight knock at the door. You weren’t exactly expecting anyone but figured it was Yoongi being anxious as usual to remind you once again of the details of the agreement made between the two of you. . And the other Min.
“Who’s there?” you really needed to stop that.
There was no response.
Looking through the peephole you eye was met with a head full of black locs that hovered right above his shoulders. He stood with his hands in his pants front pockets, swaying his body back and forth as he waited for you to answer.
“What do you want?” You yelled, door still closed.
“Just—” he sighed and you saw as he leaned against the doorframe, “please open.”
“I am not going to open until you tell me why you’re here.” Some might say you were being childish and perhaps you were but Yoojin was the last person you expected to come knocking at your door at 1 in the morning.
Yoojin landed a harder knock, “just open up already.”
“Aggression will get you nowhere.”
“Aggression?” He scoffed, it was your persistent hobby to push his buttons. After everything he had put you through, this could be your coping mechanism.
This time he repeatedly pounced on the door.
“You’re going to wake up my fucking neighbors.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours,” you opened the door slightly, revealing an agitated Yoojin. Immediately, a cunning smile across your face. “Hi.”
“Save it.” He pushed past you, his shoes were placed by yours at the entrance and he walked further into your apartment as if he was familiar with the place.
“If you haven’t noticed,” You shouted after him, “You haven’t been here after disappearing so you cannot just walk into my fucking house like you own the place.”
You found him sprawled out on your couch, seeing him this comfortable in your house really pinched at your nerves for some odd reason, you just wanted to throw something at him just to induce a bit more of irritation his way.
“First of all,” you pushed his feet of the couch, taking a seat on the opposite couch, as far away as possible, “these are new so get your fucking feet off.”
“They are the same fucking couches you had in your room back at your parents house.”
“Well, did you come over to analyze my fucking furniture, or did your little impromptu trip have a actual point?”
“I came over because…” he scratched the back of his neck, why was he nervous? “I missed you.”
You burst out in laughter, but his expression remained stern, “I’m sorry,” you continued, “It’s just you literally had years after years to miss me. Yet. . Now?” you snickered.
“You’re so fucking immature,” he hissed.
“And you’re a fucking loser knocking at my door begging to get some pussy.”
“I never asked for pussy and for the record I wouldn’t have to beg.”
“But you do agree that you’re a fucking loser right?”
He shrugged, “if I say yes will it get me some pussy points?”
“Fuck you, Yoojin.”
You stood ignoring his question and existence, walking in the direction of the kitchen as he followed behind.
Why did you even answer the door? There was a versatility in the feelings you possessed for Min Yoojin that drove you to an intersection. The same one you stood at this precise moment, stuck between two roads. One side was composed of all of the core memories you held onto like a photobook in the back of your mind. This avenue was the reason why your heart beat at the mention of his name. The other other option was a road of sorrow, heartbreak and melancholiness. And every single memory with Yoojin there, you wanted burned to ashes.. It was the reason why you wanted to rid yourself of such a nuisance promise once and for all.
He called you by your name, something you hadn’t heard since that day. It sounded so foreign to your ears but your body felt the complete opposite, there was a bolt of electricity coursing through you causing the hair follicles on your arms to stand straight.
Years later, still the same effect.
You were pathetic.
“Tell me you don’t miss me.” He whispered.
“Wow, that was really fucking cringy.”
Yoojin chuckled as he shook his head, “glad to see not much has changed.”
“I could say the same.”
He stood on the other side of the kitchen island while you leaned on the counter near the sink. It was summertime, the heat was off and your air conditioner was set on high, yet you could feel the beads of sweat forming at the palms of your hands.
“Was your prime objective to make a fucking fool out of yourself,” you crossed your arms at your chest, “did you achieve your goal for the day?”
“Actually, no,” Yoojin rounded the island and walked towards you, closing the distance you had been so desperate to maintain between the two of you, “I just wanted to make sure we were good after our meeting back at Yoongi’s place.”
“I told Yoongi I needed some time.”
“Is it because of me?”
It is. “No.”
“Then why wouldn’t you just agree?”
“Because unlike you I can’t just hide behind this fake relationship. I’m me.” Your tone is a bit more hurtful than you intended, “and I have to continuously lie to my parents for the long foreseeable future.”
He nodded, seemingly understanding where your frustrations stemmed from. Even though that wasn’t your frustration at all. Your parents controlled your life for as long as you could remember and dating fake ‘Yoongi’ who’s actually Yoojin was going to be the best form of secret rebellion you could come up with.
Your parents aren't fond of Yoojin. As his own parents aren’t fond of him. And that slight detail made things so much better.
“You’re right. I guess I never considered the route your life and Yoongi’s life took,” he stepped closer, “the fact that Yoongi even has to go through such lengths is. .” he sighed.
“It’s fucked,” you finished for him, “but that’s how life has been here, at home, for him and I.”
“Tell me. .” his eyes were just as star-filled as you remembered, so alluring, dark, “who were they planning to marry you off to?”
“Choi Soobin.”
“Ah,” the proximity between the two of you was slim and any sudden moves would have the two of you pressed against each other. An exciting thought, though you would never admit it out loud, not with Yoojin around. “He’s richer than the Min’s will ever be. How did you manage to slip away from that?”
“I almost didn’t,” you began, “Soobin is sweet, the sweetest person I’ve ever met actually. We went on so many dates and although we clicked instantly, it was more platonic than romantic. There was love but not like our parents were hoping for so we made plans to walk away from the whole thing.”
“And both parents agreed?”
You shook your head, “Of course not, but in trying to get out of that, Yoongi and I ended up in this. . Well you and I now.”
Once again a deep silence fell in the room.”
“Was that all you wanted to know about?” He nodded, “this could’ve been a text, Yoojin.”
“You never gave me your new number.”
“I know you well enough to assume you probably swiped it off Yoongi’s phone when he wasn’t looking.”
“Did.” He smiled brightly, his golden cheeks rose up like a loaf of bread right out of the oven.
That damned smile. It was so delicate, so bright, mesmerizing, so hard to forget. You knew because that same smile played in your dreams night after night. It was your artistic inspiration and the reason why you always secretly hoped to see Yoojin once more.
However, now that he was here, it was more complicated. You found yourself in a staggering debate ever since you laid eyes on him again. Your mind told you to send him off already, that you’ve entertained him long enough. While, the ocean between your thighs, begged for you to take him back to your room.
You must’ve been enthralled in your own thoughts because you hadn’t noticed when Yoojin closed that tiny gap between you, placing his hands on your waist.
“Yoojin,” you murmured.
“My name has always sounded so much better on your lips,” his hand abandoned the indent of your body and came up to your face, tracing your silk lips.
“Yoojin, please,” your voice was so weak, your eyes were shut so tight you could actually see stars.
“Yoojin please stop or Yoojin please don’t stop.” His hand retracted itself from your lips as he waited for you to answer.
“Yoojin please touch me already before I end up going crazy,” you blurred out.
“See, I knew you it,” his hands wasted no time finding themselves at the hem of your panties. If his intent was to tease, he was definitely working you up real nice and slow because even after what felt like five minutes of having him head south, you still waited for some sort of stimulation.
“When I said touch me, I meant now.”
“Patience.” He said in a hushed tone.
“I’m not a patient person and you know that.”
Yoojin smirked, finally dipping his hand into your underwear. His fingertips found themselves tracing shapes against your clit slowly as his lips landed on the nape of your neck. His mellifluous kisses felt sultry against your skin.
Still, he maintained a timid pace.
“More,” you breathed into his ear, you began moving your hips faster against his fingers.
“You really know what you want huh?”
You nodded, not a single stutter in the way you continued swaying at your own pace. Forward and backwards you moved—chasing your own high.
“Hm, you look so hot like this you know,” he hummed, “just as I remembered but. .” he removed his fingers from your body just as you were nearing your peak, “I want to make you cum on my own accord.”
Your labored breathing hindered a response to escape your lips but you were determined to have things your way.
You felt as two fingers sat at your entrance, pressing against you teasingly, the squelching sound chimed as a result of how drenched you were. He massaged your slickness lento, the recurrent circular motion he added to the bubbling anticipation rushing through you, as his digits began sinking further into your cunt.
“You’re so warm, doll.” He groaned.
Being a whimpering filled mess at the mercy of Yoojin’s fingers was not how you expected your night to roll out when you opened the door earlier that night. But an hour into his visit, here you were bearing his attack against your walls as his digits moved in and out of you slowly.
“Yoojin,” you whimpered, holding on to the edge of the kitchen counter—feeling the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten already .
“That’s it, doll,” His earthy tone was raw and tickled your inner ear, sending a frigid chill down your spine. “Cum for me.”
His pace hastened grazing the spot that drove you over the edge.
You could feel it.
Fuck.
You woke up in cold sweat, heavy breathing. Looking beside you on the bed, you expected a naked Yoojin to be lying next to you, instead you were alone.
It was a dream.
You sighed, slightly relieved that you had not fallen into his abysmal trap so easily.
It was only just a dream.
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Thursday came around quicker than expected and being incognito for the last couple of days really served as a form of needed therapy. Providing you all the time needed to think things through—to make a decision on Yoongi’s proposition.
Though, your heart threw spears at Yoojin’s name, you knew Yoongi wouldn’t be asking for a favor if this magnitude unless he was desperate—plus you figured if you were in the same situation, and you found your better half, Yoongi would be one hundred percent willing to do the same for you.
‘How do you know he is the one?’
You asked Yoongi.
‘..Because I cannot picture my life without him.’
So your decision, although hard, came to you rather quickly.
‘I’ll do it. . . For you.’
‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.’
‘Will I meet him soon?’
‘Soon.’
You haven’t spoken with him for two days since that conversation took place over the phone with the passing of midnight clouds bearing as the only witness to the assertion of the deal concealed between the both of you.. and Yoojin.
Since then, you were in solitude for a couple more days to prepare yourself for life after the decision you’ve made—to link arms and walk side by side with the treacherous Min until Yoongi was ready to get things (not so) straight with his parents.
Tonight, however, your last spec of sanity disintegrated as your weekend isolation was cut short by your favorite front desk boy as he invited you to celebrate his birthday at club Fuego. Initially, Jimin had decided the two of you were desperate for a much needed night out without the presence of anyone else and you agreed but to your demise and slight surprise, Jimin knew of Yoongi and Yoojin. He knew about Yoojin being here on a secret mission with you and somehow at the expense of that the twins ended up on the invite list to the birthday celebrations as well.
You didn’t mind but a part of you wanted just one more day away from it all, from Yoojin mainly.
The journey in finding the perfect outfit was more exhausting than you would have liked to admit but an essential to having a good night out included looking your best. First, you tried on a knitted royal blue long sleeve dress, though the color was perfect the more you looked in the mirror the more you hated the way it looked for an odd reason; not really flattering at all. Next, came an all black ensemble consisting of a black crop top and black faux leather plants but it looked bland and not ‘night club worthy’ at all. You discarded that outfit in the ever growing mountain of clothes taking residence on top of your bed. Exhaustion washed over you as a result of your continuous outfit changes, and even then you still had no fucking clue on what to wear.
You needed to be out of the house in approximately, you looked at the digital clock on your nightstand, 30 minutes.
You needed something to make you feel confident; sexy; and unstoppable, something that would have Yoo—the city eating out the palm of your hands.
Suddenly the perfect outfit came to mind.
[9:30pm - You] Is this like a hip hop night club or an actual get dressed night club?
[9:31pm - JM] Please tell me you’re already dressed.
[9:32pm - You] I’m basically almost done.
You stared at your lace black undergarments in the mirror.
[9:32pm - You] How far are you though?
[9:33pm - JM] Not far at all. Hurry up!
He attached a picture of the entrance to your building.
Oh shit, you hurried to finished getting dressed.
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“You look great ma’am. Have a great night,” The door man nodded in your direction holding the glass door open for you—you shot him a soft smile thanking him and wishing him a good night.
Yoongi’s car sat by the curb as your best friends and an unwanted demon waited for your arrival. Jimin rolled the passenger window down, “I was going to talk shit for making us wait here for like 20 minutes but you look way too fucking good bitch.”
“Thank you, thank you. Your compliments only feed my ego. I hope you’re aware,” You began posing on the sidewalk as Jimin began flashing pictures if you.
“That’s my best friend. She’s a real bad bitch,” he screamed out, calling on the attention of everyone around you. There was a tinge of bashfulness taking over you as the eyes of those settling on the sidewalk were set on you.
“Can you get in the fucking car already?” Yoongi said from behind the wheel.
“Fine.”
Not fine. Of course, you were stalling but only because you knew who would occupy the seat beside you for the 15 minute car ride ahead. And 15 minutes next to Yoojin would be like an eternity in hell. . But you could only stand outside your best friend's vehicle for so long without raising eyebrows or questions being formed about your hesitation to sit next to him.
While Yoongi knew of your mostly hate relationship with his brother. He didn’t know what caused it and you intended to keep that a secret for as long as you could. Before you could reach for the handle, the door was being opened for you from the inside and suddenly there you were, face to face with the man you’ve convinced yourself to be your least favorite Min. His eyes ogled you as you got in the car as strategically as you could without flashing anyone, of course, you settled for the black off the shoulder long sleeve corset dress with crystal trim or the shortest dress in your closet. His intense gaze remained on your figure as you took a seat beside him after slamming the door shut, but his eyes were so fucking hard to read, so dark they mimicked the expansive late night sky. Those were the eyes you thought you knew once upon a time but now they were estranged and knowing Yoojin presently; you figured he was probably mocking you and likely thinking of about a dozen snarky comments he’d make to make you feel like a fool and ruin your night but you wouldn’t let him win this time, or ever.
You had to be nice to him while your parents were around any other time was free territory.
The car ride remained silent aside from the low music being emitted from the radio, of course, they played the same generic crap that looped on continuously all day long so not even that could stop your thoughts from drifting to the man who sat just a couple feet away from you.
You wanted to say so much but instead you bottled it all up and stored it all away under lock and key in the deepest depths of your heart. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he occupied your thoughts on a daily basis.
Jimin cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable by the silence that has taken reign in the last 5 minutes of all of you being in the car together, “have any of you been to this club before?”
Yoongi shook his head, “I’ve been in New York for the last few years.”
New York. . Nice.
The three of them looked at you but you were stuck in your own thoughts as you swirled around the whirlwind gusts of the tornado wrecking havoc in your mind.
“What?”
“Have you gone to Fuego before?”
“No,” you answered. “This is my first time.”
Once again silence fell amongst the four and there was a wave of awkwardness washing over you as you remained hyper focused on looking out the window—enjoying the vibrancy of the city under the grace of the stars.
“Yoojin,” Jimin spoke once again, silence was not in his nature as he flourished in his true social flower nature, “How was New York?”
“Loud.” He was notorious for his one word fucking answer—another thing you despised about him.
“So I guess the city truly never sleeps.”.
“Unfortunately, but I have good memories as well so it wasn’t all negative.”
“Was there a lucky lady?”
“Ah—” you could feel his stare on you. Perhaps, he was trying to figure out what your body language displayed, but you ignored him and slaughtered those butterflies flapping their wings at the lining of your stomach. Your gaze was set intensely on whoever or whatever you could spot through the car window. You knew Yoojin was simply trying to structure the right words to cause a reaction out of you.
“There were a couple.”
A couple? You felt a jab land at your stomach vacuuming the air right out of your lungs in the process. You were hurt, and you were beaten but most of all you hated how much you felt for someone who wasn’t even yours. Someone who doesn’t deserve you.
The gates of Fuego were seemingly the pearly white gates to your safe haven; the only offset was the man still sitting right beside you. But it was within your full intentions to stay as far away from Yoojin as you could and by far, you meant far. . far. . far away.
Yoongi turned off the engine as he pulled into the parking spot—you were ready to jump out of the vehicle, ready to lose yourself in your last night of “singleness.”
The soft utterance of his vibrato voice rang through the tight space of the car, “We’ll catch up in a minute.” Yoojin was demanding, authoritative, and quite invasive. As much as you wanted to rebel against him your body was non compliant and you became enchanted by the spell he cast upon you.
Yoongi looked in your direction and you nodded, signaling that it was OK, “we’ll go ahead and make the entrance line. Don’t take too long.” He opened the door, “And no fighting or I’ll just call the cops on you two.”
You were both now alone in the car.
The air became stuffy, restricting your airway and you weren’t quite sure if it was due to all of the car doors and windows being shut tight or if it was due to the fact that you were alone with Yoojin for the first time in years.
“I know my arrival was unexpected. Especially, to you,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck, “but I was hoping we could talk”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” you hissed.
“There’s plenty to discuss,”
“There was plenty to discuss before you left Yoojin,” you shrugged, “but that expired long ago.”
He shook his head, “I wasn’t aware things like this had an expiration date.”
“Everything has an expiration date.”
“If only I would’ve been made aware.”
You had not gotten the chance to see how truly captivating Yoojin looked tonight. The buiguilding charm he exuded was venomous and simply looking in his direction had you under his fangs.
“I don’t think knowing would have mattered much to you,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “being in New York with all those girls and all.”
“Are you jealous?” he snickered.
It was so fucking hot, your body felt overheated. You were sweating from every single inch of you body. w
“Don’t flatter yourself,” there was a scornful derivative in your intonation, “you were the last thing I thought about.”
“Face it, you missed me.”
Those words took you back to the wretched dream you had the other night, remembering the way he spoke softly into your ear, the way his lips serenaded your neck, the way his fingertips felt as soft as the fluffiest of clouds against your skin.
“I-I did not,” you stuttered.
“Admit it.”
“No, you know what I have to admit though,” you began deflecting, just mention something you hate about him, “I hate this fucking act you adopt. You’re a fucking asshole, stomping over me without much thought when others are around, but as soon as we’re alone you pretend to care.”
You recalled how he used to be, the Yoojin from before the storm. The Yoojin who understood you, showered you with care and love, the Yoojin who was communicative and expressive. The Yoojin your heart longed for in the loneliest of nights for the past five years.
“Listen,” his eyes were finally expressive, they were kinder, the dark tone in his pupils was comforting. There was solace behind them, they felt like a warm blanket but was the opposite of what you needed as the temperature continued to rise in the enclosed car, “I’m here now. I’m back.”
You wanted to believe him, but you knew it was bullshit.
“I don’t care Min. Tonight we’re celebrating Jimin. Tomorrow we begin our little charade which I hope you know I only agreed to for Yoongi.”
“For Yoongi?”
“For Yoongi.” You confirmed.
“So you don’t miss. . .” His words drifted off leaving his implications for you to interpret and you knew exactly what he meant.
You did, but there was no admitting it to Yoojin—a deep silence fell through and the only noise your ears picked up came from the quickened thumping of your heart clashing on the walls of your chest, it terrified you that he could possibly hear.
“There was nothing to miss.”
He huffed, “Alright.”
“I’m glad we got this conversation out of the way. See you inside,” you excited the car, slamming the door behind you.
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author’s note: it took me longer than expected to write this (I deleted 3 different drafts 🙂) so hopefully this first chapter isn’t too bad, also this is unedited so hopefully everything makes sense.
thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think <3
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