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oddinary4bts · 10 months

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The Forgotten Spaces | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in this chapter)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: a conversation about Laura, details about Jungkook's accident (he says what happens and gives details, it's towards the end of the chapter if the subject is heavy for you!), curse words, domestic ass fluff that will make you go :))))), explicit content: jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (do not be stupid)

☆word count: 8k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: I think this one is also one of my favourite chapters! I hope you enjoy reading <3 Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, October 20th

You’re exhausted. You haven’t been able to move from the spot you’ve been sitting on the counter of your new apartment. Jiho and Hobi have finished making the coffee table you got at Ikea earlier this week, and they’re currently chilling on the couch, though they’re about to leave. Jisung and Felix took care of the desk in your room, and they left about five minutes ago, since they had a dinner to get to. At the moment, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen, and you reckon you appreciate the little bit of peace.

Moving day has made Jungkook far too excited for the anxiety that’s been coursing through your blood. Especially when you had to go to your mother’s house this morning. You’ve ignored every call of hers since she first started calling you last week, choosing to remove yourself entirely from her life.

At least for now, though you’re pretty sure you won’t go back on your decision, considering she’s kicked you out of the house.

You’ve listened to her voicemails though. Most of them were just her asking when you were going to move, though one of them was about a dinner at your aunt’s house that she wanted you to attend. You have an okay relationship with your aunt, you do, but not enough to choose to go when you know your mother will be there. So you decided not to go last night, and your aunt texted you to go grab a coffee sometime this week instead.

You were putting away your new dishes that you’ve just washed in the washing machine when you decided to sit on the counter, too exhausted to take care of the glasses too. It’s then that Jiho raises her head, glancing at you.

“Do you want some take-out for dinner?” she asks. “We were thinking we could eat here before we go.”

Jungkook’s head appears in the doorway to your room. “I’m down for take-out.”

You snort, and he smiles at you. It’s like your brain malfunctions – you forget that Jiho has asked you a question until she repeats it.

“Oh,” you let out. “Sure! But you guys can’t stay over late, I want an early night.”

Hobi laughs, glancing between you and Jungkook. “Right, an early night.”

Jiho slaps his thigh, and he just laughs again, shaking his head. You’re too tired to find a retort, so you just shrug your shoulders, meeting Jungkook’s gaze again.

You don’t even know if he’s sleeping over tonight. You haven’t talked about it, yet the thought that he’d stay… it makes your first night sleeping in your apartment less scary.

“What do you guys want?” Jiho asks after she’s pulled her phone from her black tote bag. “I was thinking fried chicken.”

The fact that the last time you ate fried chicken was months ago, with Jungkook, makes your heart beat just a little louder in your chest. Only he can notice, and a knowing smile grows on his lips.

“Sure, I’m down,” you agree, and Jungkook’s smile turns into a grin.

Jiho nods, and then she’s ordering the food. You jump off from the counter, moving towards your fridge as Jungkook walks out of your room, making his way to you. When he stops next to you, he gently bumps his shoulder into yours, right as you’re opening the fridge door.

“What?” you ask him.

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with those big doe eyes of his. “Nothing.”

You narrow your eyes in suspicion. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“I mean nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He winks at you as you just furrow your brows. “Unless…”

You wait for him to continue, but he falls silent. “Unless what?”

He purses his lips, before pulling on his piercing. You can feel Jiho’s gaze on you, but you do your best to ignore it. “Am I…” He pauses, long enough for a smirk to blossom on his mouth. “Am I sleeping over tonight?”

You look up to the sky, faking annoyance. “Uh, please don’t.”

His mouth falls open and your gaze drops back to him, and it’s your turn to wink at him.

“Alright then, I’m not sleeping over.” He folds his arms on his chest, standing tall with a frown on his features.

You laugh at his expression, and one of your hands darts to his inked forearm. You try to force him to unfold his arms, but he doesn’t budge, as he’s clearly far stronger than you are.

“I’m just teasing you,” you say, pouting as you offer him the best puppy eyes you can muster up.

He chuckles. “I know.”

You don’t move for a few seconds, content just looking at each other, but then the fridge makes a sound as you’ve been holding the door open for too long. It startles you a little, and you both laugh as you turn to reach for a water bottle.

“We should get beer,” Jungkook suggests, and his eyes slide to Hobi, who perked up the minute beer was mentioned.

“We have to, with the chicken.”

“I’m not going out, but feel free to go grab some if you want,” you tell the boys. “I don’t really drink beer anyway.”

“What about sangria?” Jungkook says teasingly, and your cheeks flush red.

“No sangria tonight.”

He pouts. “Why not?”

“Sangria is a Thirsty Thursday drink. It’s Saturday.”

“I mean,” Jiho lets out. “I’d be down for sangria.”

Hobi jumps up from the couch – it was delivered earlier today. It’s an L-shaped grey couch, that you wouldn’t have been able to afford hadn’t it been for your father.

“We can make it ourselves!” Hobi exclaims. “I’ve been told I make the best sangria.”

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook says, shaking his head no. “Yoongi makes the best sangria, you just stole his recipe.”

Hobi chuckles. “Still counts.”

Your eyes slide to Jungkook, and he catches your gaze. He must have read something on your face, because he steps closer, and he grabs your waist. “Something wrong?” he asks, just for you to hear.

“I love them, but I don’t want to hang out with them tonight,” you admit truthfully. “I’m tired.”

Jungkook seems like he ponders for a time, and when he leans down to press a soft kiss on your forehead, your eyelids flutter shut and you rest your head on his chest.

“What about we grab drinks some other time?” Jungkook suggests, face turned towards your friends on the couch.

Hobi doesn’t get the clue. “We can’t eat fried chicken without beer.”

“Babe, we can,” Jiho says, and she sounds scolding.

It makes you chuckle against Jungkook’s chest, and he wraps his arms around you.

It’s wild. Some part of you never expected to be comfortable with public displays of affection. Mind you, Jiho and Hobi don’t form a big audience. But still, being in Jungkook’s arms right now feels just right, and you already feel a little less exhausted. He’s energizing, when he holds you like this, with the warmth of his body seeping through yours. You just want to stay there for eternity, but it’d be a little selfish, wouldn’t it?

After that, Jiho and Hobi understand that you want to be left alone. They leave after you’ve eaten, wishing you good luck on your first night in your new apartment, and Jiho hugs you tight against her chest, saying that she’s the next one allowed to sleep over here. It makes you laugh, and then you wave your two friends goodbye as they walk down the hallway towards the elevator. You close the door when they turn the corner, before leaning against it.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asks gently.

“I’m drained.”

He grabs your hand, gently squeezing your fingers. “I can take care of the rest of the dishes, if you want.”

He’s too good to you, but gosh you love it. “You’d do that for me?”

He smiles gently, nodding his head. “Of course. As long as I’m allowed to be the little spoon tonight.”

You laugh, letting him pull you towards the kitchen. “I promise. You can hold Totoro this time around.”

“And not Appa?” he asks, pouting as he glances over his shoulder at you.

You roll your eyes, chuckling. “Both.”

“That’s better.”

As Jungkook finishes emptying the dishwasher, you sit on the counter, leaning against a cupboard. You take a moment to look at him – he’s wearing green cargo pants, with another of his many oversized dark t-shirts. His hair is so long you think you could probably tie it in a ponytail, though you reckon you’re not sure if it would look good on him. Besides, you like his hair untied, especially now that it’s started to curl a little at the ends. It makes him look soft, and it takes everything in you not to reach out between you and run your fingers through his hair.

“How do you feel about being in your own apartment?” he asks as he’s putting glasses away in a cupboard next to you.

You observe him for a few seconds, before letting your gaze slide away to the living room. You haven’t finished decorating yet, but it already feels like home a little, especially with Jungkook by your side.

“I’m happy,” you reveal. “Tired, yes, but I really am happy to finally have my own place.”

He smiles. “I can imagine. When I moved in with the boys I rode a high for a few months before it just became normal.” He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “It was such a mess at the beginning.”

“It still is,” you point out.

He raises his eyebrows as you turn your head towards him. “Trust me, it’s not half as bad as it used to be.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Why’s that?”

He ponders for a time, and the only sounds in the room are those of the glasses as he puts them away. “Probably because we’ve thrown less parties this semester? Last year we had one almost every week. But I think Jin and Yoongi outgrew the phase.”

“Kinda hard to throw a party when two out of five residents don’t want to,” you say, and he nods his head.

“Exactly.”

He works in silence for a time, as you just yawn next to him. You close your eyes for a few seconds, and really you’re so tired you think you could fall asleep like this. You’re about to do so when Jungkook nudges you gently.

“You gotta move,” he tells you, and he laughs when you whine. “All the other cupboards are full, I need to use the one behind you.”

You crack an eye open, and surely one of his hands is extended towards the cupboard. His inked one is holding a glass and the fondness in his eyes does something to your insides – melts them, the same way metal melts, turning bright and liquid and burning, burning, burning.

You grab the glass out of his hand, putting it next to you. His hand is still extended towards the cupboard, and he’s looking at you with a cocked eyebrow, clearly not understanding what you’re doing.

In all truth, you don’t know what you are doing either. Only know that all the restraints you’ve once had are breaking, melting, popping. The dam is open, and the flood rushes in, washing away all the pain, all the fear you’ve gone through in the last few months. You feel like maybe you’ve drowned, maybe you’re at the bottom of the lake looking up to see the light, to see Jungkook. And if you had to drown to make it to him, then you think it was worth it. It is worth it. Because he puts oxygen in your lungs the way nothing ever did before.

You grab his arm, whining a little again. He chuckles, but doesn’t resist when you pull him towards you. You pull him in, until you’re able to wrap your legs around his waist. The smile on his lips dies slowly as he watches you, sees the look in your eyes. He falls fully serious, and when you pull him down he follows your lead.

The kiss is slow. The kiss is time stopped, eternity awaiting. You feel like you’re everywhere, everything, yesterday and tomorrow. You feel infinite, yet finite like you’re just a punctuated event in the chronology of time. You’re nothing, but you’re also all, and you think Jungkook feels it too.

You know he does, because his hands steadily fall to your waist, and his touch on you is gentle, yet firm. He holds you into your spot, setting your place into the universe to your seat on this counter, with him between your legs.

You cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing his skin as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you sigh as you let him in.

This kiss is the start. But it’s not a start that hurts, like the cataclysm under the stars. It’s a start that makes you think ‘this is it, this is where I was meant to be’. Urgency slides into it, slowly, until passion takes over the two of you. Jungkook’s fingers dig in the supple skin of your hips, and you softly moan in his mouth as he bites at your bottom lip. He lets out a sound similar to yours when you pull him ever so closer, pressing him against you.

You can taste the sauce lingering in his mouth from the fried chicken you ate before Hobi and Jiho left. You’re pretty sure he can taste it in yours too, but you both don’t care, too busy building yourselves anew.

Jungkook pulls away just long enough to breathe in, and then he’s crashing his lips on yours again. If you could choose your Heaven – if such a thing exists, which you highly doubt – it’d be this moment, repeating over and over.

The moment you realize you’re in love. The moment you realize it was all worth it. The moment you realize Jungkook is love, in its purest form. You want to lie in this moment forever, make your bed in it and die right here, right now. Because you know no moments will ever top this, right now.

He’s your heaven.

“Jungkook,” you breathe against his lips.

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “What was that for?”

Your hands move to his hair, get lost in his long locks. “I’m falling for you.”

He doesn’t say anything for so long you start to feel your heart ache. It starts slowly, but soon overpowers everything. You wish you could move away, but he’s like a magnet, and you a piece of metal. You’re glued to him.

He murmurs your name, with so much devotion you feel like you’re a god. And then he chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he whispers. “You have no idea. I’ve been falling for so long.”

Your closed eyes manage to fill with tears. “No falling anymore. We’ve got each other.”

The sound he makes next resembles a sob, and you hold him tighter.

“You really think that?”

You nod against him. “Yes.”

He nods too, and then laughs softly. “Gotta add fried chicken to the list of things I want you to eat or drink more often.”

You snort and when he picks you up you just hold onto him tighter.

“Where are you bringing me?” you ask.

He parts so he can look over his shoulder. “There’s something I want you to see.”

An air of mystery fills the space surrounding him, and you close your eyes as you snuggle your face in his neck. “Mmh.”

“That tickles,” he complains with a whiny voice that makes you giggle.

Jungkook carries you to your bedroom. The sun set a little while ago, though the sky outside is still painted in royal blue, having yet to give way to night. He puts you down on the freshly-made bed, and your eyes flutter open as he steps away.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but then your room fills with light.

Fairy lights. He’s hung them around the painting over the head of your bed, and even around the window. It gives your room an inviting glow, a warm tone that feels just right with him in your vicinity.

“When did you do this?” you ask.

He smiles softly, fondly. “Earlier. Before dinner. I thought you were going to like it.”

Your eyes have filled with tears by the time you croak out, “I do.”

He looks so happy with himself, like he accomplished something remarkable. And maybe to him, making you happy is that. Remarkable.

“Come here,” you say, making grabby hands at him.

He laughs, but immediately complies, walking over to where he sat you on the bed. “What do you want?”

You never were asked such an easy question before. “You.”

Something passes in his eyes. “Me?”

“All of you?”

At that he laughs. “All?”

“Shut up and come here,” you whine.

He giggles that sweet giggle of his, but he obeys, sitting next to you. You’re not surprised when he pushes you down so you’re lying on your back, with his hand on your stomach.

“How do you like your apartment?” he asks after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

You turn your head to look at him. “I love it.”

He smiles. “I’m glad.”

Your heart feels content in your chest, yet it demands more. So you prop yourself up on an elbow in order to get closer to him, and you press your lips on his again. This kiss starts the same way as earlier, but it meets passion faster. Way faster, like your hearts are chasing each other in a race, and maybe they are.

You climb on top of him, straddling him as his hands hold your waist once more. Your mouths haven’t disconnected while you moved, but they do now as you descend to his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat. He tastes a little salty from when he sweated throughout moving day, but you don’t care, you just want to feel him.

He says your name, and his grip on you tightens when you suck a hickey over the collar of his shirt.

“Do you want me, Kook?” you ask, and it’s a little rhetorical.

He still replies. “I do want you.”

“Tonight?”

He breathes hard when you suck on his skin again. “Yes.”

Satisfied, you sit back on his lap, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Then take this off.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then he sits up, pressing a kiss on your nose. “But first let me get you out of your shirt, mmh?”

You let him sneak his hands to your back, until he’s grabbed your shirt and pulled it over your head. You help him a little, and he lets it fall to the floor next to your bed. His hands return to your back, and he gently caresses your skin as he presses his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

When he pulls away, his doe eyes meet yours, and you help him out of his shirt. Soon, it finds yours on the ground, and you slowly roam your hands on his chest, on his abs. You find the scar he has there, and you trace it with a finger, holding his gaze.

“I love your scars,” you breathe out.

His eyes glaze a little, and he looks down at himself. “You do?”

“Of course. They are a part of you.”

He kisses you again, languidly, pulling you down as he lies back. You follow him, resting your hands on his chest to keep your lips against his. His hands roam your back, finding your bra strap and a second later he unhooks it. You don’t disconnect your mouths as he slips your bra off, and you shiver a little when it’s off and his hands move to your breasts.

He gently cups them, squeezing once before he grabs your waist instead. You whine against his lips, and he laughs softly.

“What?” he asks.

“Touch me,” you let out.

He breathes in sharply. “Fuck.”

You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “Please.”

“I will,” he whispers, and he says it like a promise.

A promise you know he’ll hold, because one of his hands glides on your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind before it finds your ass. He holds it firmly, while his other hand goes back to your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between his thumb and index.

You moan against his lips, unable to resist, and he slips his tongue in your mouth. You kiss him harder, passionately, fingers moving to get tangled in his long hair. He grinds up into you as your hands get lost in the soft strands, and you moan again.

“Fuck,” he curses once more.

You pull away, enough to look at his features. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes are screwed shut, and he looks like he’s in pain. “Just…” He wets his lips, but his eyes stay obstinately shut. “Are you going to run again?”

Your heart falls in your chest. It falls and aches, and you gently cup his cheeks. “Kook,” you murmur. “Look at me.”

He pulls at his piercing, and it takes him a few seconds but he eventually obeys. When your gazes connect, you pour all of your feelings in your eyes, hoping he’ll read it himself while you say, “I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me now. Us.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He says it with conviction, and it makes you clutch him a little harder.

“Kook, stop this. I told you before, it’s my choice.” You pause, giving weight to your words. “I choose you.”

He looks between your two eyes, and then his gaze shines with tears. “I should have chosen you before.”

A tear escapes his right eye, and you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “But you’re choosing me now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “You’re stuck with me.”

Your lips break out into a soft smile. “Good. Now kiss me stupid.”

Mischief fills his gaze, replacing the sadness. “Oh, I’ll kiss you stupid and fuck you dumb.”

“JK!” you burst out, and he rests a hand flatly on your back, spinning you around until he’s pinning you down on the bed. Your gaze widens, and you have about two seconds of looking at him, heart beating out of your chest, before he catches your lips with the pillowy softness of his.

He’s propped up on his elbows, caging you between his arms, and your hands wander down his body, caressing his sides before going ever so lower. You find the band of his pants, sliding one finger in just to tickle him. He grinds into you, and you feel his erection pressing against you.

Lava trickles down to your core, and your legs circle his waist again until he’s tight against you. It makes it hard to rid him of his pants, and you reluctantly let go as he himself pushes away, standing up so he can get out of his pants. He looks like an angel in the fairy lights, skin turned to honey you want to taste, and you reckon you want to taste every inch of him. Want to press kisses all over his body until all he can feel is you.

Jungkook palms himself through his boxer briefs, and you watch the imprint of his dick shamelessly. He cocks his head to the side, before saying, “Why don’t you take off your pants too?”

“You’d like that?” you tease.

He chuckles. “Brat.”

“You love it.”

He doesn’t deny, just watches you as you finish undressing. It occurs to you that it’s his first time really seeing you fully naked, and a little bit of insecurity seeps through you. He notices right away, because of course his big eyes notice everything.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as you lie down, in just your underwear. “I’d take a picture of you right now.”

You blush. “Please don’t.”

“Just burning your picture behind my eyelids then,” he says, and one of his hands moves under his boxer briefs, fingers wrapping around his cock. “I want to see you every night as I’m falling asleep.”

It’s dirty, especially as he starts pumping his dick. You sit back up, just long enough to hook your thumbs in the band of his boxers, pulling them down his legs. He lets you do it, focusing on jerking himself off. His dick sits right next to your face, and you look up at him, questions in your eyes.

“You don’t have to suck my dick,” he says, sounding reassuring. “I’m all ready for you.”

“Then just a little?” you suggest.

His eyes shut as he tilts his head to the side, chuckling. “Alright baby.”

You smirk, biting at your bottom lip before letting your gaze drop to his dick. You eye the bead of precum that sits at the slit. Jungkook is still holding his dick up, but he’s stopped jerking it off for now. You lean forward, tongue darting out to taste him, and he tastes just as good as you remember. You lick him clean of the precum, and then swirl your tongue around the head, playing with his frenulum.

He slowly starts pumping himself, and you look up to connect your gaze with his as you suck on his tip. You moan, softly, before pulling away with a popping sound.

“You know,” he says, and his eyes fall shut as if he needs to concentrate. “As much as I want you to suck my dick, I think I’d rather just be close to you tonight.”

You melt again, like snow under the spring sun. “Kook…”

“And now I’m far, aren’t I?”

He sort of is, standing up like that while you’re sitting on the bed. So you move backwards, lying back down. “Come here then.”

His eyes open, and he takes in the sight of you for a few seconds, not saying anything. He just has a small smirk on his lips, and he’s still pumping his cock. It makes you jealous a little, because you haven’t really had any action yet, so you let your hand wander between your legs, under your panties.

Jungkook watches, mouth falling open, as you start pressing circles on your clit. You go lower, finding your lips coated with your sleek juice, and you use it to press harder on your clit, moving faster.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses. “Can I take your panties off?”

You smirk lazily, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “Sure.”

He eyes you suspiciously, sensing the mischief and teasing in your voice, but he lets it slide. He kneels on the bed, moving closer until he can pull your panties down and off your legs. You still just rub at your clit, even as he watches you do it. Even as one of his hands moves up your thigh, and he circles your entrance with a finger.

“As much as I want to be close to you right now, we should get you ready first, uh?”

“You want to finger me?”

He inhales sharply, nodding his head.

“Do it, Kook.”

He pulls at his piercing, and his gaze meets yours as he slowly slides his finger inside of you, arching it immediately to find the spot inside of you that can make you cum in no time.

You keep at it on your clit, moving faster as he starts teasing at the spot, before pumping his finger in and out a couple of times. When he's covered it with your wetness, he adds a second finger, and you moan out his name.

“You’re so wet.” It sounds like a praise, and all you can do is nod your head. Because surely, you’re soaked, and you reckon there’s a high chance you’ll wet the bedding under you. But you don’t care, all there is is Jungkook and his fingers inside of you.

He makes scissor-motions with his digits, spreading you wide open to get you ready for him while you’re still drawing circles on your clit. He works against your muscles as they tighten, spasming from your ministrations on your clit.

“Do you want to cum first?” he asks.

“Uh?” you gasp out.

“Do you want me to make you cum before we have sex?”

The brat in you resurfaces. “I’m doing half of the work,” you whine.

Something changes in his demeanour. He’s still soft and gentle, but his free hand grabs the one you’ve been using to pleasure yourself. He leans over you, hovers over you, until he’s put it over your head, against the bed.

“Not anymore, uh?” he asks cockily, fucking you with his fingers harder.

Squelching sounds start to be heard in your room, and you clench around him. Though you still have an available hand, and you start playing with yourself with it. Jungkook chuckles, and he presses a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“You want to cum so bad,” he states.

You do. You’re tilting over the edge, and it only burns brighter as he starts fucking his fingers faster. You time the circles on your clit to his movements, and when he starts kissing you, so slowly you feel your heart combust in your chest, the coil in your core snaps.

You moan out, loudly, as your fingers slow on your clit. His don’t, and he fingers you all through your high, kissing you softly still. You kiss him back, trying to focus on his lips as pleasure rushes through your body. The hand that was holding yours over your head moves until your fingers are intertwined, and you shudder as he milks the ending of your orgasm out of you.

His digits still in you, and he just keeps on kissing you. You focus on that until you feel strong enough to move, and you do so, wrapping your hand around his cock. You pump him, slowly, and he grinds in your hand.

He pulls away then, fingers emptying you, and you realize you’ve been gasping for air. You breathe in and out quickly, chest moving in time. He surveys you, and then presses a kiss to your forehead.

“That felt good?” he asks, and he moans a little when you grip his dick tighter.

“Fuck,” is all you can think to say.

He chuckles, and then looks at his hand. “Let me just clean that up so we don’t dirty your bed before we’ve even slept in it.”

It’s endearing how he thinks of that even as you’re jerking him off, and you watch him as he reaches for a tissue on your bedside table. He cleans his fingers, and when he’s satisfied, he crumples the tissue and throws it towards the bin in the corner of your room. He entirely misses it, but you both don’t care as he settles comfortably between your legs.

“Do you still want to do this?” he asks, bending down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe out, and you align him with your entrance. “I want you so bad, Kook.”

“Me too,” he murmurs.

Then a thought pops in your head, and your gaze widens. “Wait.”

He stops moving, even as he was starting to push inside of you. He’s kneeling between your legs, and the startled look on his features makes you grab his hands.

“Are you sure this position won’t hurt your leg?”

He smiles, eyes so full of love you feel like you’re an entire new person. “Don’t worry about me, baby.”

You pout a little. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself for me.”

He resumes his movement, pushing inside of you, and he only speaks again once most of him is sheathed inside of you. “My leg doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” he whispers. “I’ll let you know if it does, and we can always switch positions, mmh?”

You nod, and your gaze dips down to the spot where your bodies are connected. “Okay.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. And when he starts pulling back, only to push inside of you again, your hands grab the nape of his neck to hold him in place. To keep him close, so you can feel the weight of his body on top of you.

He fucks you slowly. Lazily, as he kisses you languidly like he’s got until the end of time to have sex with you. It leaves you feeling full, feeling bright like the stars in the sky that July night. Only this time, you both are stars, crashing together, meddling until there’s only one of you, made of the best of him and you.

It’s slow and steady, like the beats of your heart in your chest. Whenever he turns his head one way, you follow his lead, let him kiss you stupid while he just keeps going, slow and steady. It’s warm, like a summer evening. You know every little moment of your life led you to be here tonight, and you know you’ll cherish this moment forever.

You want it to last forever. And it feels as if it does, even when Jungkook readjusts his position, lying on his side a little. He fucks you so slow your heart grows and grows in your chest, like flowers do under the benevolent rays of the summer sun. You grow like a plant nurtured in your home, like love that’s meant to last forever. It feels like there’s just you and him in this space.

And maybe you’re forgotten. Maybe the whole of humanity is gone, and there’s just you and him left. You think that’s okay. You don’t mind being forgotten, not when it’s with him. Not when you know you occupy his thoughts the way he occupies yours.

At some point, Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, and you breathe the same air as he keeps fucking you like this, slow and steady. You hold him, tangling your hands in his hair, running them down his back.

“I’m really falling in love with you,” he breathes.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing him ever so closer to you. “Kook… me too. I’m falling in love with you too.”

He’s so close you feel it when he smiles. “Didn’t you say ‘no falling anymore’ earlier?”

You don’t know how he’s still able to think right now. Because the only thing that occupies your thoughts right now is him. Him in his entirety, his soul settling home.

“I…” you trail off, silenced by a soft peck of his. “I’m in love with you,” you correct.

“I’m in love with you too,” he responds, and then he’s kissing you again.

He’s kissing you like he’s making up for the last few months, and preparing you for all those that are to follow. You see a long path ahead, but it doesn’t scare you anymore.

Jungkook’s movements grow sloppier as you kiss, and then his hips settle against yours, his dick embedded deep inside of you. You feel it twitch as he releases inside of you, and he grunts in the kiss as he fucks his orgasm out of himself.

When he’s done, he once again rests his forehead against yours. “Wow.”

One syllable that encompasses everything that you’re feeling right now. You echo it, and you both chuckle. And you hold on to each other for a long time, before Jungkook pulls away to clean up. He pulls you behind him to the shower, and he washes your back under the warm water. You wash him too, and by the time you’ve settled back in bed, you’re going again. This time doesn’t last as long, and it’s a little more desperate, a little faster, like your bodies are craving each other too much for the dance your souls want to pursue.

When you’re done, you lie with your head on his chest, eyes trailed to the sliver of moon you can see outside. Jungkook’s breathing is deep next to you, but you know he’s not asleep yet. You’re drawing circles on his chest, where his shoulder connects to his torso and ink gives way to a blank canvas. Meanwhile, Jungkook is running a hand up and down your back, slowly, never once faltering.

“What are you thinking of?” he asks.

The question takes you by surprise. Mostly because you weren’t thinking about anything, but now that he’s asked, you think about everything. You think about all the months, all the years that eventually brought you here. You think about how sixteen years old you would kill you for being with him, though you think it’d be because she was jealous. You think about the way he broke your heart, about the way you broke his, and the way you rebuilt yourself together. You think about Laura, and inevitably the words she told you at the bar come back to your mind.

You sigh, and if you could you’d move closer until you were under his skin.

“You know, the other day, at the bar?” you let out pensively. He hums. You don’t know if he’s following, so you add, “When Laura talked to me.”

This time, he says in a low, deep voice, “Yes.”

His hand doesn’t still on your back, and neither do your fingers on his chest. “She mentioned something that got me thinking.”

You feel him shift a little as he looks down at you. “What did she say?”

“That I was delusional,” you admit. “That you broke up with her to be with me to boost your ego.”

Now, his hand stops on your back, resting flatly so he can pull you closer. “I hope you know that it is not true,” he gently says. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and your eyes flutter shut as you sigh.

“Can I ask you why you broke up with her though?” you enquire with a small voice. “We never… You never said why.”

His fingers go back to grazing the skin of your back. “I think it was a combination of seeing you getting hurt and Laura saying stuff about you,” he admits. “That time you hurt your wrist, I panicked. Seeing you hurt, hurt me too, and it made me realize that I cared for you far more than I originally thought.” He pauses, and your hand trails to the top of his shoulder so you can hold him tight against you. “And Laura was a bitch that night. She said a lot of stuff about you, and the more she talked the more I wanted her gone.”

Silence fills the room, and you listen to his steady heartbeat for a time. You take his words in, let them marinate in your mind while you figure what to say.

Because you knew, that day, how much he cared for you. It was written all over his features, in those big doe eyes of his, and it hurt almost more than your wrist did. But two days later, in a fit of heartbreak caused by your mother, you had ended up right by his side, where you were always supposed to be.

“I knew it,” you reveal. “That you cared for me. Even when you were with her I knew it. But…” you trail off, and he waits patiently for you to continue. “Do you remember the night I… I kissed Jimin?”

He stiffens, and you’re pretty sure his heart has skipped a beat in his chest. “Yeah?”

“It was like you didn’t even know me,” you say, voice small. “I expected you to be angry, or to be jealous, but you didn’t even blink.”

He chuckles, and it’s a little sour. “Honestly, it hurt me but I wanted you to be happy. I thought then that you weren’t supposed to be happy with me. I know now that I was wrong, and I’m sorry you had to see me with her. Because, even though Jimin’s one of my closest friends and I love him to death, seeing you two together hurt.”

“I cried for the first time that night,” you admit, and your voice has gotten even tinier. “With Sungie and Felix. I think that’s why Sungie doesn’t like you.”

Because it was evident today. Jisung kept throwing glares Jungkook’s way, kept trying to get Jungkook to be away from you. You think they spent some time alone too, and Jungkook confirms as he says, “He told me he’s going to give me a chance just because you are happy with me.” And then Jungkook chuckles a little. “But he said he’ll kill me if I hurt you again. In Korean at that.”

Your brows furrow on your forehead. “Wait, you speak Korean?”

Jungkook looks down at you. “Obviously?”

“I’ve never heard you speak Korean,” you say, propping yourself up on an elbow so you can look at him. “Say something!”

He just holds your gaze, though a fond smile sneaks its way to his lips.

“Come on,” you whine.

“Guiyeop,” he says, finally caving in.

You grin. “What does that mean?”

His smile turns mischievous. “You’re annoying.”

“Jungkook!” you yell, and you punch him in the chest as he starts laughing. “I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says, tickling your side. “Besides, it means cute.”

You frown, glaring down at him. “Does it?”

His hand reaches between you, and he smooths the frown away from your features. It makes your breath hitch in your throat, and you hold his gaze as he says, “It does.”

You repeat the word, and then smile wide at him again. “I like it. You should teach me how to speak Korean.”

He pulls you back into his embrace, and you rest your head on his chest. This time, he holds you flush against him, both arms surrounding your frame, and you’re engulfed in his warmth as he hums.

“You’ll need to learn if you want to meet my family,” he says before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“They don’t speak English?”

You feel it as he shakes his head no. “My brother does, but my parents don’t really. They all still live in Korea.”

“Wait,” you let out. “You moved here without them?”

He chuckles. “No, my parents were here for two years, but then they moved back to Korea because of my dad’s work.”

“So you were just with your brother?” you ask.

He nods. “Yeah. But when he went to college I moved in with Tae’s family.”

You didn’t know that. It feels like you should have known, considering you’ve known him for almost as long as he’s been here, and your heart falls in your chest.

“Wow.” You glance up at him, though all you can see from your point of view is his jaw. “I didn’t know.”

He presses a kiss on your forehead. “We never talked about it before, how could you know?”

You’re pouting when you say, “I just… it feels like I should have known.”

He says your name like he’s reprimanding you. “I didn’t even talk about my family to Laura,” he admits. “So don’t feel bad that you didn’t know.”

“But I’ve known you for years,” you point out.

He hums. “Yeah and? Did you want to know stuff about my life before?”

He’s got a point. You still whine a little, which brings a cute giggle out of him.

“I guess not.”

He holds you tighter for a few seconds. “See? We’re all good.”

Another silence moves through the room, and you just go back to listening to his heart. Its steady beat is threatening to lull you to sleep, though your imagination runs wild with what it must have been like for him to grow up all alone, on an entirely different continent as his parents. It feels lonely, though you reckon he always had someone around.

It’s more than you had, after your father left. Because you don’t consider your mother to have been around for you. All she was was a thorn in your side, one that you’ve finally gotten rid of. Yes, it aches, but you reckon that now you have a chance to heal.

And healing with Jeon Jungkook by your side sounds like a dream.

“Did they…” you trail off, not expecting the question to take shape. “Did your parents come when you got in your accident?”

He sighs. “My mom did, but my dad couldn’t. She stayed for a couple of weeks, but then she had to go back too.”

You press a kiss to his chest. “How did you feel?”

“About what?”

You shrug in his hold. “About being here alone. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.”

He remains silent for so long you almost think he won’t reply. “I wasn’t alone,” he admits. “I had the boys. They’re like family to me, and it was plenty enough. Besides…” he trails off. “I didn’t want to be around people after the accident. I was stuck in my head.”

You’ve never really talked about that before. As much as the subject scares you, you also want to listen to Jungkook, if he needs to talk. And it seems he does, because he continues after a minute of silence.

“I really thought I was going to die that day,” he reveals, with a small, vulnerable voice. “Sometimes, all I can picture is just me, bleeding out on the backseat.”

Your heart turns to ice in your chest, and you don’t think it’s beating anymore.

“I almost died, actually,” he tells you. “If the medics had gotten there two minutes later I would have.” He’s silent for a few seconds, and his voice is raw with emotion as he adds, “The boys were freaking out, but I was out. Taehyung was just… telling me to hold on, saying my name, and Jimin threw up while Jin called 911. At least that’s what they told me.” You sneak an arm around his waist, soothingly rubbing his back. “Tae didn’t even realize he was hurt too until I woke up in the ambulance and told him. He was so panicked he wasn’t letting the medics approach him.”

The heavy silence that follows is unbearable, and you feel the need to say something, anything. “Jungkook… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m the one that should apologize,” he quickly says, and he scrapes his throat as if to get rid of a lump that’s formed there. “I just dumped that on you out of nowhere.”

“It’s all good,” you reassure him. “I’m here for you, if you need to talk about it.”

“I never really talked to anyone about it, besides my therapist,” he admits. “It just makes it so real.”

You nod, before pressing another kiss to his chest. “You’re alive, Jungkook. You’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

“Alive and with you,” he says, choking on a sob. “Thank you so much.”

You blink back tears as you peck his chest once more. “I’m glad that you are right here.”

His grip around you tightens, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest, even through the heaviness of the conversation. You don’t talk for a while, both of you lost in thoughts, though you reckon you just don’t know what to tell him. You weren’t wrong before – you’re not good with feelings. You try to be, because that’s what Jungkook deserves, especially with what he’s been through. But feelings are one of your many shortcomings, though you reckon you’ve been getting better.

Letting him in is making you better, in all the ways that matter. You think you could spend the rest of your life right next to him, and that he feels the same way. You believe he feels the same way, because his grip never falters around you. He still presses gentle kisses on the top of your head once in a while, and when his breathing slowly deepens, interrupted by soft snores, you smile against him, holding in a giggle.

His warmth eventually lulls you to sleep, and for the first time in forever you sleep soundly, like you’ve finally reached your safe haven.

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☆☆☆☆☆

I am so soft I could cry gosh... they're in love, aren't they? What do we think?

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you, my bad): add yourself to the taglist by following this list

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barbi2709 · 10 months

Text

Soobin with an anime nerd s/o

Disclaimer: This and each of my stories are only fiction and are not intended to offend or make anyone uncomfortable, if this type of content makes you uncomfortable, feel free to leave without resentment :]

Paring: Soobin x gn!reader

A/N: I'm doing this bc it's just a underrated topic here (no bc I'm in my delulu moments and bc im an anime nerd myself, nonono). Also im doing this to get out of a writer block to continue with my other txt series which I haven't even started (loln't)

Our Soobinnie <3

My boy just want someone who gets just as excited as him when they watch anime :(

So when he met you he was so excited to finally meet someone like him.

Once u both started dating, anime dates became a thing really quick.

You going to his place or him going to yours to watch anime.

You both have a list of animes to watch and is endless.

You both promised to never finish an anime that you are currently watching together.

Ok, but the anime dates you have are just so cute :(((((

Like, you both with cozy blankets while cuddling on the couch and watching like 6 chapters on a raw bc neither of you want to stop watching or leave each other.

(I truly believe he would agree to build a pillow fort)

He wouldn't admit it at first but he IS into romance animes.

The most cheesy shit you can find out there, he'd be like 🤮🤮🤮🤮 at first but once you ask him to watch it together my man agrees before he can register his answer.

If you're more into Shonen and seinen, be prepared to an excited Soobin every time a fight scene come to the screen.

You both could be talking for HOURS about theories or making bets about who would win the last battle.

And also be prepared to defend your fav characters from this man *cofcofmegumicofcof*

(If Megumi hater, why so hot?)

But also my man is the type to get a little bit jealous of 2D characters, so whenever you got a new husbando please make sure to reassure him.

(Or tell your sexy bf that the character is ur fav bc they're almost as sexy as him)

Having crisis together at 3 a.m. because of the spoilers for the next anime or manga chapter that you're waiting for.

He comforts you when your fav character dies.

You both cried the shit out of you after the end of snk.

Manga shopping dates are also a thing in your relationship and I swear is the cutest thing ever :(

Like, you want that one limited edition but you think you've bought enough for the day so he bought it for you and leave it at your dorm as a surprise :(

I want him </3

Whenever he's on tour, he tries everything on his power to take you when he's going to Japan.

Or he plans a trip with you to Japan bc one of his life goals is to go with u at least once in his life.

If you can't go to Japan with him he'd buy EVERYTHING for you.

"I saw this Okkotsu plushie and bought it for you"

"I thought you'd like to have a Naruto lamp for your night stand"

:((((((

The members think you both are annoying bc of how nerds you're.

But they are happy that Soobin found someone who shared his same interests.

So now you're just annoyingly cute as a couple.

I feel like he's the one to watch "guess the anime opening challenge" type of videos.

And you both are SO. FUCKING. COMPETITIVE

He's always making rules to got one win

"Let's add the rule that if you also sing the opening you got the point"

"Binnie, you didn't knew the lyrics"

There's also dates when you both are just reading mangas with soft music at the background, no one's talking, just the comfort of each other presence.

You got him to do the Tik Tok trend of Wotakoi hands dance with you during pandemic.

At least in one of his social media accounts he has an anime matching icon with you.

I don't think he'd be into cosplay or going to conventions, but if you ask him enough times he'd be doing anything for you <3.

And that's it, love y'all

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theapangea · 11 months

Text

Night Out

Chapter: Girls Night Out Pt.1

Pairing/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader, Nancy, Robin, Max, Eleven

Summary: You and Steve have been dancing around each other for sometime now, neither of you wanting to make the first move. All your friends decide it is finally time for you both to confess your feelings.

A/N: This is probably my fav piece of writing to date so hope you enjoy! Read Boys Night out Part 1 first!!

*Also posted on AO3: Theapangea*

Part 3

Tick tock

The faint clicking sound of the slow moving clock above the door echoes within your body. Your eyes follow as the seconds hand makes its way around the face of the clock. Your heart beat mimicking each second that passes by, each second slower than the last. Your shift crawling to the end of the hour as you bite your cuticles to the bed, anxiously waiting for it to be over.

The clock was crawling closer and closer and closer to 6pm, the end of your shift. The smell of freedom was inching its way to you. You could almost feel the sign of relief when you will be off of work.

The drowning sound of Robin’s voice following you around the store for the last two hours fades as she continues to talk about this week’s crush. This interaction feeling move like torture that the shift itself. And as much as you love Robin and her daily word dumps, you couldn’t help but not want to listen today.

Pushing yourself off of your elbows and making your way to the opposite side of the counter. Leaving Robin to finish her monologue by herself.

She watches as you grab the last stack of VHS tapes that need to be returned to their place on the shelf. Her gaze follows as you make your way slowly around the small store, half-assing the shelving job knowing she will have to fix all your mistakes when you leave.

Step by step. One foot in front of the other. Dragging out the simple task of your simple job. Continuing to watch the clock as you pace your movements to match the speed of the endless dial.

12 minutes 43 seconds left

12 minutes 42 seconds left

12 minutes 41 seconds left

Your eyes only leave the countdown to follow the trail of movies on the floor that lead directly to the two girls gushing over some guy on the cover of one of them. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be?” Pushing some of the movies with your shoe to see their selection. A quiet groan exits your mouth, one that only you would be able to hear, as you realize you will have to be the one to pick up their mess.

“Nope.” Max and Eleven say in unison as they stare up at you towering over them. Their ear to ear grin engulfing their faces.

You loudly groan now, letting them know of your distaste for what they are doing and this conversation.

“What about hanging out with your little boyfriends ?” You speak as if you are talking to a small child, kneeling down to be eye level with them on the floor. Max rolling her eyes at your remark as you continue, “I mean come on - Friday night and you two are here?”

“You’re here.” El speaks before tearing a piece of licorice with her mouth. Her comment is not meant to be a jab at you but you couldn’t help to think that Max’s sarcasm is starting to rub off of her.

“That’s because I’m forced to be here.” You specify slowly, picking up a couple of movies that they have scattered on the floor before standing up again.

“Forced but loves every moment of it because I’m here.” The voice says from behind you. Robin chiming in as she swings her arm over your shoulder.

And she was right. You love Robin, loving hanging out with her and love having shifts with her. But today was just too long and it felt like the rest of your life was waiting for you outside those glass doors that keep you prisoner to the capitalist society that you are forced to participate in as Robin would put it.

“Besides,” You shrug her off nonchalantly, “I’ve got plans later.”

“You never have plans.” Robin points out as you walk back to the center counter, the three girls following behind. All of them exchange the same curious expression of what could possibly be happening tonight.

“Well I do tonight.”

Making your way around the counter to organize the various sets of movies that you had picked up into their designated genre piles. The three girls stay on the other side, playing the part of the anxious audience waiting at the edge of their seats for your next act to begin.

“Where are you going?” El asks, resting her head on her hands. Her palms pushing her cheeks and lips together into a make-shift fish face.

Your eyes glance quickly at the clock above their heads.

9 minutes 23 seconds left

You ponder the question for a moment, wondering if you should even share the information with them. You knew they wouldn’t understand why you are going to this stupid function. But maybe this was supposed to be how you ended your final month in high school. Maybe this was supposed to be the big event that happens before you graduate.

“Jason Carver’s party.” You feel as if you have to force the words out of your month.

And then you wait.

“Why?” Robin questions, you can hear the disgust tones as she drags out the word.

And there it is.

This is exactly why you didn’t want to say anything. None of them exactly like Jason and why you should have kept your mouth shut in the first place.

At that moment you didn’t have an answer for Robin. At least not a good answer. At least one that she wouldn’t instantly dismiss knowing that you were lying. High school was ending, if everything went according to plan you would be out of this small town sooner rather than later and at this moment you wanted to be young and dumb. You wanted to go to this high school party just to say that you went. Just to experience the adoslance stupidity and underage drinking one last time. Trying to savor whatever distaste you had for the town of Hawkins.

And maybe because if the basketball captain invites you to his party personally, you don’t just not go. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about some after school makeout sessions that you had with that specific basketball captain and that maybe you were hoping for it to develop into something more. But you couldn’t possibly let Robin know that you actually wanted to go to this party and that you and Nancy have basically been talking about it for the past two weeks.

You stumble over the words as your thoughts become jumbled. Not knowing exactly what to say that would satisfy Robin, knowing nothing will at this point.

Ding

All of your heads turn rapidly to see who has stepped into the retail space. The familiar girl with short brown hair coming to your rescue, saving you from the wrath that was Robin Buckley and her opinion.

“My savior.” The whine in your tone was obvious but you didn’t care. You were just happy that Nancy was here to take you away from this conversion and this shift.

A suspicious smile rests upon her face as she comes to the small circle that you and the girls have formed. “I know something you don’t know.” She practically sings, the smile growing wider as she spreads her fingers along the counter, leaning closer to you.

“What?” Not breaking eye contact hoping that she can give it away without verbally telling the rest of the group.

“It’s about a certain boy that you like.” Her smile becomes too much to bear for her small face. You can basically see that holding in this information was visibly painful to her.

“Nancy.” You whisper in a harsh tone, you don't want anyone to know about any crushes that you may or may not have. You could feel their glancing eyes as you and Nancy share your hushed exchange.

“What boy?” El’s sweet voice echoes.

Your eyes widen as you practically beg her to remain quiet. To shut up now and forever or else .

“A boy you know.” She says without breaking eye contact. Clearly she could tell you were bluffing as she knows you would never tell a soul about any of your private conversations. Obviously Nancy wasn’t always the best keeper of your secrets, especially when it came to spilling any crush that you may have. Her motives were more childish than sinister in nature.

“A boy I know…” El whispers to herself, trying to piece the puzzle together. Counting on her fingers all the boys she currently knows.

“It’s Steve duh.” Max interjects, lightly hitting El’s arm. El’s expression reliving as the mystery is finally solved.

You instantly object to the speculation, not saying anything that is remotely audible, but you can see Nancy shaking her head yes confirming Max’s answer.

“Wait, how do you know anything about that?” You wonder out loud.

“Dude everyone knows that you like Steve.” Max adds, pushing herself onto the top of the counter. “Plus, Robin told me.”

Head whipping towards Robin, her name falling from your lips as loudly as a scream.

“I’m sorry , she got it out of me.” Robin mumbles under her breath, throwing up her hands as her last defense. Knowing that telling Max would have come out sooner or later but she was just hoping that it was much much later.

“Well it doesn’t matter be-because I really du-don’t like, I-I don’t like St-” Stumbling over your words again, trying to gain any sense of confidence to defend yourself.

“Do you want to know what I know or not?” Nancy cuts your embarrassing ramble.

“Yes…” you groan knowing that none of the three girls listening intensely on the conversion are going to go away any time soon.

“Ok,” She begins, tucking her loose hair behind her ears. “I was going into the basement to tell Mike that he needed to empty the dishwasher because I did it last time and mom always asks me to do it even though Mike is perfectly capable-”

“Nanc, the news.” Interrupting her blabbering to get back on track.

“Right, right…so…as I was walking down the stairs to the basement, I overheard Steve, Mike, Dustin and Lucas talking about you .” Enunciating the last word. The melody swirls in your head as you can only hear the words ‘Steve’ and ‘talking about you’.

“Really?” Robin practically taking the word right out of your mouth. Her intonation more baffled than yours would have been. Almost as if she can’t believe that Steve would actually like you in return. A small roll of your eyes before landing back on Nancy.

You watch as Nancy nods her head signaling that her story was true. The corners of your lips slightly turn upwards when the image of Steve talking about you comes to mind. The way he would push his brown locks away from his face wondering if you actually liked him. The way his lips would speak your name into the universe, with tones of hopefulness and desire. Your name hanging onto his lips by a thread as he talks about his little crush that he has on you with the younger boys. All looking to him to set the example to go chase after the girl of his dreams.

“Well what did Steve say?” Robin questions as your mind runs loose. You’re incredibly thankful for her at this moment for being your voice as no words can make their way out of your dry throat.

“Well that was really all that I heard.” Nancy’s gaze shifts downwards as her hand falls onto yours, lightly running circles with her thumbs trying to comfort you in some way from across the counter. “I kind of ran back upstairs before I could hear the full conversion.”

“So no confirmation or anything?” Max feels a bit of an anticlimax with Nancy’s story. Though it was the best thing that has happened all day so she couldn’t complain much but still nothing like coming into the store with big news and it falls flat.

And there you were. Trapped in your own skin as your mind continues to race. Only this time the darkness begins to seep in as your heart comes crashing down from the high you were just having. Deep down inside you knew that Steve liking you was too good to be true. But there was still a sliver of hope that you tried so hard to hang onto.

Nancy studies your face as she can tell you are getting too into your head. Her hand squeezes yours to get your attention, “He could like you.” Hoping that her words would be the cure to the wash of sadness that has overtaken you.

“You don’t know that.” Your voice cracking as it feels like your world begins to break. Steve now knows that you like like him and you have no idea how he feels or what he is doing.

“Why don’t you go ask him?” The soft voice speaks again, El’s bright eyes full of a small dose of hope.

Robin practically screams with excitement over El's comment, “El’s right. He’s at Nancy’s house right now. You could tell him how you feel.” Her hands tightly wrapped around yours and Nancy’s arms, shaking them frantically.

“And say what exactly?” Trying to clarify what exactly this group wants you to do. Trying to understand how they think this is a good situation.

“Hey I like you, do you like me, like’s makeout.” Max says so casually while picking at the sole of her shoe.

Nancy interjects before you get a chance to speak, “You’re coming over to my house anyways so what’s the harm?”

“The harm is that he could totally reject me to my face and then I would die.” You try to explain to her but it feels as if none of them are listening. None of them are understanding how this could possibly ruin your whole life. If Steve doesn't end up liking you then the next few months are going to be absolute disaster.

“ It’s now or never.” Nancy emphasizes every syllable . “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“Yeah, don’t you open with him tomorrow.” Robins addition hitting you like a semi-truck. This whole day and conversion totally making you forget that you would have to come face to face with him tomorrow morning. Feeling as if you don’t make the confession tonight than it will be ten times more awkward in the morning.

The loud sound of air being pushed through your nose, nothing making you relax as the anxiety begins to build as you look back up at the ticking clock.

2 minutes 15 seconds left

2 minutes 14 seconds left

Only this time, you didn’t want the time to run out. You didn’t want your shift to end anymore.

“Besides,” Nancy begins, her delicate voice lacing around each spoken word, “if he’s not at the house then we just go to the party like planned, right?”

Shaking your head in agreement as there was no going back in time to redo this day. There is no way you can avoid Steve forever is this God forsaken small town.

Nobody said anything after that. It was almost as if the room grew colder. The small glances that were being exchanged between the small group of girls trying to come up with any sort of plan other than just simply confessing was zero to none. Obviously you were going to think of the worst possible scenario because if Steve really doesn't like you then maybe it will hurt less. You know that's not true but you try with every ounce of you body to convince yourself that it is.

You grab your coat and purse from the back and follow Nancy outside the glass doors that once kept you safe from the impending doom that is this night.

~~~

I'll post part 3 this weekend!! Hope you are liking the story. Thank you for reading and I love YOU!!!

Tags: @orphic-musings @shireentapestry

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington series #stranger things fanfiction #Steve Harrington #stranger things steve #stranger things #reader insert #nancy wheeler #robin buckely #max mayfield #eleven

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cafeinthemoon · 1 year

Text

King - Chapter III

Chapter 3/?

Wordcount 4k

Title Dragonet

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Poseidon x reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of blood and piercing; mentions of nudity

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So, after almost saying sorry for the wordcount in the previous chapter, here I am with an even longer one lol I've put much effort in this one, specially bc it's the wedding night ;) (wedding nights are, apparently, on of my fav things to write).

A few words about the title: dragonets are a group/category of small, colorful fishes of "shy" behavior, greatly appreciated for people who raise fishes in aquariums. There are really interesting things about them to research :)

Also, I want to apologize in anticipation for the use of the word "manhood" in this chapter bc though I think it sounds good when it's isolated, it feels kinda ridiculous when you contextualize it (but this is just my opinion as someone who doesn't have English as their first language lol)

The Lord of the Seas, as silent as his own domain before a storm, didn’t give any signs that he has noticed your presence in the room until he stopped by your side before the altar, but a moment under his glare was enough to make you wish you were invisible.

He kept looking at your whole form, examining your appearance, that is, his servants’ work through the aspect of your hair, your skin and the gown you were wearing, analyzing your movements, the way you were staring at him, your breath, your shivers, everything. Those eyes, you guessed, were the eyes of someone who was used to have people’s lives and deaths in his hands, and you had no doubts that he could finish you right there if he decided you weren’t worthy of his time.

Fortunately for you – or not, you still didn’t know – you were worthy, and after his examinations, he opened his mouth… doing this to give you an order, as expected.

– Come forward. You are too distant from the altar.

Unlike you imagined, Poseidon had a soft, low voice, typical of a young man.

You hesitated, though you understood what was said, and for the first time a wrinkle of irritation appeared on his forehead.

– You are too distant from the altar, human.

The sentence was repeated in a slightly higher tone, but not even this was enough for you to make a move toward him. When he took one step toward you, it was the end of your self-control: you stepped back, and would have run away if he hasn’t reached you in a second. Your legs almost failed you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t let out a scream.

He raised his hand and you closed your eyes tight, too scared to see what was going to happen, but you opened them again when you felt his hand closing around your jawline; his skin was warm and his grip was far from rude.

What he did after that, however, made you doubt what you were experiencing.

First, he moved your face from one side to the other, as to verify its conditions; the second step was to raise his free hand to your ears’ height and snap his fingers beside each one, making you flinch; he then put his hand at your eyes’ height and showed you three fingers, moving them and observing as your eyes followed everything.

– Tell me – he ordered – How many fingers you see here?

You replied with some difficulty, less because your movements were limited by his hand than because of your nervousness.

– Three… – and, before you forgot the appropriate treatment, – Poseidon-sama.

Finally, he lowered his hand and let go of your jawline. Less patience was sensed in his voice when he spoke again.

– Now, tell me. If you can talk, if you can see me, hear my voice and understand what I say... Why don’t you respond when I speak to you?

You swallowed, and no word was heard from you. You could barely raise your eyes to him, but when you did, you saw him raising an eyebrow, and the corners of his lips curving themselves in a smirk.

What? A god can do this type of thing?

Apparently, not only he could do that, but he had also proficiency in teasing.

– Are you defying me, or are you just anxious?

You felt your cheeks warming up and looked away, but not before sensing his fingers touching your hair, brushing it behind your ear.

– So quiet, so hesitant and small... – he commented; and, with a chuckle, – I thought I would find a human here tonight, but instead of this… What are you? A dragonet?

Your eyes widened at the comparison. Now he was giving you names? What kind of man was that?

Your tongue was almost freed at that moment for you to make that very question, but before the words left your mouth, Poseidon grabbed your arm.

– There is no use for shyness here, woman. Come, now. Let's finish this.

He then led you to the spot he originally ordered you to take.

Now that you were seeing the altar from close, you could see details that went unnoticed before. For example, alongside the earrings, there was a white, folded piece of fabric on the tray, which use you didn’t find hard to guess: in case the bride didn’t have her ears pierced already, she would bleed, and the fabric would keep her clean. You used to wear earrings, but your last pair was taken away during the preparations for the wedding, as well as any other metallic object or jewel you might have had with you, so that you would be at least spared from the pain and the mess.

Poseidon took one of the pearls and approached it from your lips, holding it with his fingertips.

– Kiss it.

You obeyed, despite the strangeness of the instruction. He then moved your hair away from your right ear, exposing it, as well as your neck and collar, and pinned the earring on your lobe. You flinched at his touch, but one look from him and you stopped avoiding his hands.

The process was repeated with the second pearl, and you knew that the easiest part of the ceremony was over.

Poseidon was the first to speak after it.

– These pearls are the sign of the Emperor’s wives – he started – Not only for the others, but for yourself. From now on, your heart, your mind, your body and your spirit belong to me. Whenever I tell you to come, you come. When I tell you to leave, you leave. When I tell you to speak, you do it, and if I want you to be silent, you do it as well. You will carry my children, and only them; no one else can touch you and stay alive, for these pearls must be their only warning. No attempt of removing them will be tolerated, nor even if they come from yourself. Always remember this, and you will stay in my favor.

Finally, he raised the back of his right hand and told you to kiss it, as the ultimate sign of your compliance. No, you weren’t really agreeing with all of that; you never asked or expected it, but you gave him the kiss. You knew it was marking a permanent change in your life, but how many things have already changed since you were taken away from home? Even when you were trapped in the depths of the seas, marked as a god’s belonging, you still had hopes of finding your way, if not out of his domain, at least through it, but you would have to navigate between many things to get there, most of them unpleasing. You still had to learn where you were stepping into, and for this you had to study the territory.

Your study already began, with your arrival at the lodge and your friendship with Alyssa, and now it would continue with this strange wedding.

With the kiss, the ceremony was over. Poseidon held your wrist and, without any additional explanation, walked you around the altar, to the doors through which he arrived. With one hand, he pulled them, and a new path appeared before you.

His steps were steady, too fast for you to follow without panting; you would have stayed behind if he wasn’t holding you. At some point, when you almost stumbled, he finally stopped and turned to you, disappointed.

– Too slow.

You just stared at him, unable to speak.

– Humans used to be a bit stronger in the past – and, assuming a more serious tone, – I am not sure if I like what I see now.

And before you could think of a reaction, he grabbed you by your waist and threw you over his shoulder. You let out a little scream, and had no response from him but a tightening on his grip before he continued to walk on the same pace as before.

This is so humiliating.

The only advantage of this – if you could call it an advantage – was that you were spared from any anxiety that a longer trip to the chambers where your marriage would be consummated would provoke.

***

Poseidon only put you down when you passed the chambers’ entry, closing the door behind him.

You immediately stepped away from him when you reached the floor. You haven’t gone too far when you felt a warm, comfortable texture under your feet; you looked down and found a black carpet that covered the entire place, forming what seemed to be a black sea.

It was when you realized the wideness of that place.

It was like two or three rooms with your lodge’s size were built together, but without walls to separate them, and the existing ones were even higher, leading to a ceiling that reminded you of the skies out there, toward which you saw the bright star flying at that night. All around you, there was a cold, bluish light that touched everything, from the decorations on the walls and the furniture to your skin and gown, yet your sight was as good as if you were under the daylight.

Some meters ahead you, at your left, there was an enormous canopy bed with four columns and a golden shell on the top of each one, and with curtains and sheets so dark that they could be black or indigo under that light; the curtains were opened, but you couldn’t help wondering if you’d feel like drowning in an abyssal zone if they were closed around you. Not so far from it, there was a small table with a bottle upon it.

There’s oppression in each corner of this room.

All of this you noticed the instant when the door was being locked behind you; you turned to it, passing your arms around yourself. Your wedding night was going to happen, then.

Poseidon turned to you and, when he started walking at you direction, Proteus’ advice came back to your mind in a flash.

Trust the silence, the modesty and the compliance, and everything will be good for you.

Everything would be good if you chose to become his Lord’s wife. If you acted like he instructed, you would survive.

But would you still be you?

Anything that goes beyond this you will do at your own risk.

He spoke as if your death was a certainty in case you dared speak. However, if you didn’t do anything now, you would lose what made you human.

My freedom.

And maybe Proteus-sama needed to know more about humans, because if he understood that trying to prevent you from doing something by threatening you with the unknown was the precise way to encourage you to do it, he would never speak like that to you.

To him, my voice means my death. But, to me, it always meant change.

And because, besides a human, you were also a merchant.

And the best thing a merchant does is to trade.

You stopped trembling, and decided to make your first offer.

Right now, Poseidon was going to untie the stripes of his robe, but was still dressed with it. You pulled back and knelt on the carpet, with your palms before your head and your face hidden upon the ground.

You couldn’t see Poseidon’s expression when he saw that, but a sort of annoyance – and maybe a bit of confusion – was sensed in his voice.

– What is the meaning of this? Are you really going to beg for my favor right now?

You tried not to stutter in your reply.

– Yes, my Lord.

You heard him sigh.

– Well, whatever. What do you want to ask?

It was the moment.

– Please, my Lord… Kill me.

Now, a slight change in his voice was sensed: whatever he imagined you asking for, it was clear that he wasn’t expecting something like this.

– What?

You raised your eyes to him, afraid of going too far but eager to observe the emotions on his face while you spoke:

– Please... Kill me... Make me one of your servants... Or just throw me away... But do not make me a mother.

It was hard to tell if Poseidon was shocked or offended by your request. The best you could say was that he was intrigued.

– Do you understand what you are asking from me, human? I can finish you with a move of my hand if I want, yet you would prefer this rather than having my children? – and with a hint of indignation, – What kind of plead is this?

You couldn’t risk his patience now, as much as you couldn’t risk having your request denied. You took a moment to adjust your posture, kneeling with your hands upon your lap, not looking directly into his eyes, then started to speak lower, as if opening your heart to him.

– Poseidon-sama, if you give me a death like this, I would be honored. But if you make me bear a child, it would be the longest, the most painful death I can think of – your hands gripped on your gown – Please, show your wife mercy and don’t give her such fate.

The Lord of the Seas spent a moment observing you. Then, without saying a word, he turned his back on you and walked toward a corner of the room, out of your sight. When he came back, you shivered: he has now returned to his previous spot and had his Trident with him.

So... this is the fate he chose for me.

His grip around the weapon’s base increased, and he extended it toward you in the blink of an eye. You only had time to bow your head...

But the strike never came.

You looked again, and found the three blades pointing at you, at your eyes’ height, the metal shinning under the blue light.

He's not going to kill me, then?

– Touch it – he instructed – Beware of the blades.

You understood you were supposed to put your fingers upon the symbol beyond the blades, and did it. Despite not being made of the same material of them, it was sharp, and freezing to the touch. With all the possible caution, you moved your hand away, back to your lap, and the Trident was pulled back to his owner’s side.

– Here you have it. The sign of my favor. Now, on your feet.

You obeyed and he went to return the Trident to its place, then passed by the small table where you saw the bottle. He opened it and brought it to you: it was an interesting object, with an elliptical shape and a rounded cap, entirely decorated with small, reddish jewels and aged gold. Before you understood what was going on, he grabbed your jawline just like he did before and approached the bottle’s neck to your lips, making you swallow part of the content. You took two shots of the fluid, cold and bittersweet down your throat.

You coughed a bit when he moved the bottle away, putting it back on the table.

– What is this, my Lord? – you had the nerve to ask.

– I am simply answering your request – his reply was unfazed – With this, you will not be able to conceive for one month. The next month, on the same day, you will take it again.

You frowned.

– I don’t understand. If my request will be answered, why do I have to...

You never finished the sentence. You blinked and the next thing you knew it was your lips being silenced with his index finger, after he returned to your side in an instant. Apparently, moving so fast that mortal eyes can barely follow him was one of the Sea Lord’s abilities, something that you supposed to be both impressive and lethal.

He had the same smirk as before when he replied to you.

– Let me tell you something, dragonet. Killing you, thus making you a subject of my elder brother, would be rather a waste after bringing you here. Even worse would be making you a servant with these frail hands of yours – he grabbed your wrists and approached your right ear, whispering – And, concerning sending you away... do you think you would survive as a rejected offer? Do you even understand what it means?

You opened your mouth in shock and he chuckled.

– Not even your people would have mercy on you.

You remembered the relief in Alyssa’s tone when she said she was glad for being accepted.

So, there’s really a taboo surrounding rejected offers.

You didn’t have much time to think of this. You felt his arm passing around your waist and pulling you to him, in a way that you were forced to stay on tip toes, your hands upon his chest, with no chance to escape. With his free hand, Poseidon took a lock from your hair, approaching it from his nostrils, smelling it intensely as he let it slip between his fingers.

– Finally, I conceded you the favor of not becoming a mother, but you are still my wife, you understand? – he approached his lips to your neck, brushing them on your skin as he spoke – You were the one who took me out of boredom this year with this absurd request of yours. Who told you I would not want to see more of you?

Your eyes widened with that. So, he was indeed willing to keep you around.

Staying this close to him was not that bad, though: not only he was handsome, but his body was warm and the fabric of his robe was soft; besides, from him you could sense a deep, addicting fragrance that reminded you of the sweetness of flowers, with a hint of the salinity of the seas. You inhaled it in silence, wondering if it was elaborated to make women compliant.

All of this was observed carefully by Poseidon, and what he said to you about it made you hold your breath.

– Not only this, but you are a terrible liar, you know? – he whispered in your ear – I can sense, smell, your warmth, your arousal from here... It is still just a tiny bit, but it can always get better…

Just like at the beach, when you stood with the water at your waist and your body was too slow to react and avoid the next wave, there was no way to escape the one brought by the god who commanded all of them: the strength of his arm keeping you close to him, having only the thin fabric of his robe and your gown to separate you; his fragrance, which you still weren’t sure to be a perfume or his natural scent; his breath upon your ear, your neck as he spoke; his voice, soft and composed yet youthful, sweet even in the coldest threats and mockery, invading your thoughts like a lullaby, numbing your senses, making his authority acceptable.

If this is what facing a god feels like… how do I fight him?

Not knowing how, you didn’t fight. However, you hoped that one day you would find the answer, for the path to it was right there with you.

The answer is himself.

This thought barely crossed your mind when Poseidon suddenly released you from his grip, and you almost fell. Before you did, you felt his hand holding your left arm, while the other grabbed your gown by the cleavage and pulled it with no hesitation; in a second, the pretty piece was turned into shreds that were promptly discarded with one move of his hand.

You covered your mouth, then your chest with the shock. That was the reason behind that servant’s laughter and the enigmatic response of her partner: you didn’t receive anything more because you wouldn’t need anything more.

His eyes passed all over you, in a way that nothing escaped from them – not even the tremble in your legs. It wasn’t clear that if he approved what he saw, but whatever he might have found displeasing, he would discuss it with his servants later. You pitied them for the tyrannical lord they had to serve.

Poseidon let go of your arm and unraveled the stripe of his robe, getting rid of it as fast as he did with your gown. The blue fabric fell to his feet, exposing everything and making you understand that it wasn’t for nothing that he held such prideful posture.

He was perfect in every possible detail.

At that moment, none of you spoke, and you kept observing, feeling something between embarrassment and awe: the absence of flaws impressed and enchanted you, from the uniformed tone of his skin, to the thin, golden layers of hair shinning over it in different parts of his body; the line of his muscles, as defined as if made of marble; his broad chest and strong arms; the shape of his abdomen, his groins and manhood; his firm thighs and legs. It was hard not to imagine yourself being held, touched, taken by him, and that was precisely what he wanted you to think of, for he stood there long enough for you to catch all those details, fix them in your mind and give room to desire.

Of course. He expects me to give him my undivided attention.

And it was the easiest thing for him to get it, you had to admit.

He came closer to you again, but unlike you imagined, he didn’t surround you with his arms: instead, he held your left shoulder as to keep you in place while his free hand held your chin, in a way that looked more like a study than an attempt of seduction.

– I am going to prepare you first – he spoke more to himself than to you – Most humans use kisses for this type of thing, don’t they? It worked with the previous one – his thumb caressed your lips as he approached his own, whispering – It might work for you as well…

And it worked. As he approached his mouth and put it over yours, you closed your eyes, afraid that he would just suffocate you with greed, but none of this happened: he started with small, brief touches on your lips and the corners of them; noticing your compliance, he made the kisses longer and experimented with them, sucking your lower lip, opening your mouth to reach your tongue with his, while his hands started caressing your face, your neck and shoulders, then go all over your body, warming up your skin; they were strong, but didn’t lack gentleness.

As he extended his kisses to your chin, your neck and collarbone, with his hands continuing to work on the rest, you began to feel sleepy, even relaxed.

Even when humans aren’t common here, he really knows how to do it with them. Maybe these things are not that different with other folks.

When Poseidon understood it was the right time, he took you in his arms and carried you to the canopy bed. Concretizing your fear, he indeed closed the curtains when he laid you on the mattress, so the apprehension of being surrounded by darkness couldn’t be denied, but at the same time it was good not to have yourself exposed as before.

As cold ripples that reach your feet when you first enter the sea, you felt his hands touching your feet, then your legs; it tickled you, but when you tried to move them away, you sensed his hand closing around your ankle and pulling you down to him.

– Where are you going, dragonet? – he put his body over yours, and you sensed his hand leaning on the sheets beside your head – It is too late for this.

You didn’t reply. With his other hand, he searched for your mouth, and carried on with the kisses when he found it. At the same time, you felt his knee moving your leg to the side, separating it from the other as he laid upon you.

You were now one of Poseidon’s wives.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #snv x reader #ror x reader #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader

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grey-edges · 2 months

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which one of the pjo books are you on right now? and which book, scene and character would you say is your favorite so far?

i’ve finished Mark of Athena and haven’t started House of Hades yet!

(*this got rambly IM SORRY but im just so invested in this series*)

obviously i love percy but honestly jason is my fav right now i just wanna dissect his character and also wrap him in a fuzzy blanket and send him to therapy. leo also gets a honorable mention as one of my favs im obsessed. (i thought nico would be my fav but tbh i barely even know him yet but i know once i get more content he will be #2 if not #1)

for favorite scene oh gosh i dont knowwwww. my favs from HOO not in any particular order, but the stress of annabeth and percy falling into tartarus?? unmatched,, annabeth helping frank with the chinese handcuff was too pure. OH and the battle scene in charleston where annabeth called percy by throwing her knife in the ocean i screamed, and then jason and percy combining their powers??? SO EPIC i need more of that pleaseee OH WAIT and the double giant battle with jason and percy and bacchus lifting them into the colosseum??? THE GASP I GUSP i reread that chapter twice that has to be my fav. also with the iceberg battle scene from SON when frank describes how insane and intense percy’s fighting is like go white boy go!! same with jason’s final battle with the giant in TLH like holy fuck! i was scared of him and his powers!! seeing them finally like come to and him unleash them and remember his true strength was so cool!! honestly i need to reread TLH and SON again already i ate them both up.

my fav scenes from the first series were all the underworld scenes in TLO like nico getting sent to his room I CRIED THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY and the river styx scene??? dont even get me started thats my new roman empire I SWEAR. other random moments i think about a lot are bianca killing that skeleton zombie army man in TTC i remember being so shook like ??? WHAT POWERS DOES SHE HAVE and then the REVEAL at the end with nico screaming at percy??? oh i just know walker and whoever plays nico are going to give a performance of the century with that and i cant wait to see it on screen. same with SOM the siren scene with percy and annabeth??? oh im gonna be sick. again i already feel like i need to reread the first five

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson spoilers #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #asks

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hydn-jpg · 11 months

Text

just follow my lead

ik the anatomy is kinda off but at this point i'm just glad i managed to finish this drawing bc it's been sitting in my wips for a while haha. but yeah!! this was one of my fav moments in crimes so i just had to draw it!! can't wait to see these fools again in book two!! (☆▽☆)

timelapse below the cut bc i feel like sharing + rambly artist commentary(?):

idk if it's obvious from the timelapse but the bg and other dancers were last-minute additions lol. initially it was supposed to be just trystan and noel (which is why i did the lineart right after sketching them) and a simple painted bg but just as i was about to colour it kinda struck me as a bit,, bland? so i quickly sketched out the bg they used in the scene (as close as i could anyway, i wasn't about to make it that detailed when i'm gonna gaussian blur it after anyway lmao)

the dancers were the same, i made them faceless and bland so they don't stand out too much (e.g. me changing the blond guy's suit from cream to grey) i did put a little more effort into the dress of the redhead in the far back bc she's supposed to be olivia nevrakis,, i wanted to add her in since she was a pretty integral part of the chapter without making her too pronounced hsdjlkk i drew the red flower and lace details on her dress and everything, it's a shame all of that isn't really visible in the final product but again— gaussian blur'd (also very tiny). in hindsight maybe i should've drawn her closer to the screen or smth but this is about trystan and noel so!!! whatever lol

there are a lot of things i'd change if i ever redraw this (or maybe just the bg) but that's a problem for future me to decide to do or not do (×_×)

#sorry if the ~artist commentary~ made no sense i am not eloquent and have too many thoughts #but yeah!!#i am super excited for crimes 2 !!!!!!!!#literally vibrating at a speed that could shatter glass in anticipation #i hope i could do a lot of fanart for it !!!!#brain pls be nice to me ok #playchoices #choices cop #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion #choices fanart #trystan thorne #the loml #mc: noel rose #my art #hydn.jpg #hydn.mp4

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ssuperficialspacecadett · 10 months

Note

W o w

2 more stellar chapters!!!!! I can’t wait for our fav receptionist to try out being a ring girl! (Is the asshole guy gonna try something and we get to see Frankie/the guys jump in? Bc protective men is 😭😭)

Anyway I love love love how you wrote the guy’s relationships with each other!!!!

If and only if inspiration strikes, I would love a scene from a “guys night”

Either before our girls comes into their lives or after, just then having fun and being them 🥹 bc I feel a lot of fics over look the importance of their friendship esp in regard to Frankie like Frankie fics will sometimes act like he has had no support until the girl comes in his life but yours just shows how much they all love each other

Doesn’t gotta be long (or even at all!) maybe just a nice lil thing 🥰

Ily have a wonderful day!!

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Best Friends, Beers, and Bets - Through the Scope Drabble

Rating: everyone (just the boys being silly and goofy together)

Word Count: 1K

Notes: hi everyone ! i know i have been gone for a hot minute and i am deeply sorry about that. there has been a lot of not so fabulous things going on in my life and in my mental state that has left with with little motivation to write. the worst part is? im 3/4 done with chapter 11 ... like girl plz just finish that hoe DAMN ! but i found the motivation today to write for this lovely ask i received a little bit ago (: i love the idea of getting to take a peak inside how the TF boys are before Estrella came into the picture. so a very big thank you to @romanarose for this !! chronologically, this takes place before chapter one.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Frankie, Will, and Santi sit together in the back of The Barrel at their usual table. The bar isn't particularly full this evening, but the comforting hum of conversations emitting from the regulars fill the empty chairs. They talk and laugh amongst each other as they wait for their last member to arrive: Benny. It had been only four days since his receptionist quit, but the hurt was apparent to everyone. Usually, she was the one to help him clean up after they close the gym down for the evening. Both of them managed to get it done relatively quickly too. Unfortunately, in her absence, Benny had to do it all himself. The other guys had repeatedly offered to give him a hand in the evenings, but Benny refused. He said that he had it covered and that they should just wait for him at the bar. Not wanting to press him further, the trio would retreat across the street.

“Here he is! We all thought you fell into the washing machine and couldn’t get out.” Santi claps Benny on the shoulder as he makes his way to buy a round for everyone.

“You were 15 minutes slower than yesterday.” Will says, tapping his watch while his brother takes a seat next to him.

“Gee, that makes me feel great! Fish, do you want to rub salt in my wounds too?”

“I’m just happy you’re finally here, man.” Frankie’s eyes convey sincerity. “But you’re going to run yourself ragged doing all that clean up by yourself. Why don’t you let us help?”

“Yeah.” Santi rejoins the table and passes out the bottles. A few seconds of silence go by as each man takes a moment to wash away the stress of their day with deep gulps of chilled liquid. “We are offering to help you clean. It’s not like you’re forcing us.”

Will nods in agreement and tips his bottle in both Frankie and Santi’s direction.

“I just hate the idea of y’all doin’ work I’m completely capable of.”

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man if we help you clorox a few work benches, Benny.” Frankie says gingerly.

“I know, I know. To be honest with y’all?” Benny scoots closer into the table. “It’s kinda lonely there without someone to talk to in between clients.”

“My bed is going to be kinda lonely too if it makes you feel any better.” Santi offers.

This manages to get a laugh out of the very tired looking Benny. “Oh is it now? Poor you.”

“Poor me is right! Your receptionist may have kept you company during the day but she kept me company during the night. Now that she's quit, that means I have to as well.”

“That’s not what that means at all, Pope.” Will says with a raised eyebrow. “You can still see her even if she doesn’t work at Brass Knuckles anymore.”

“Well she also started talking about getting exclusive…”

“And there’s the real reason!” Will laughs.

“Can we get back to my issue?” Benny begs. “What do I do? No one has answered the ads I’ve posted online. I don’t know how much longer I can handle juggling training clients and taking care of the in between tasks.”

“What about good old fashioned paper flyers? You could give some to me to hang at the auto shop. Will could take some to the VA?”

“Absolutely not.” Santi says with conviction. “I will not have a man take this job and ruin my chances of meeting another beautiful woman.”

“Fine.” Frankie rolls his eyes. “What about a bookstore or a coffee shop? Does that sound better to you?”

“That’s not a bad idea, but do people even read those flyers? I know I don’t.” Benny shrugs.

“Well you’re not the one that's desperate for a job. I would just make sure you print out the ads on bright paper so it catches peoples eye.”

“That’s not a bad idea either.” Benny says to his brother. “Still, who knows how long it's going to take before someone calls about it?”

All four men are quiet as they brainstorm possible solutions to the problem that's currently plaguing them.

“I’ve got it!” Santi snaps his fingers. “I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving.”

“Pope, what the fuck?” Benny looks shocked.

“Yeah, why are you actively saying he can’t do it?” Frankie questions.

Santi only chuckles and Will shortly joins him when he puts the pieces together in his head.

“You cabrons aren’t listening to me. I bet you that you can’t find another receptionist within a week of the last one leaving. You’ve never backed away from a bet as long as I’ve known you, Benny.”

“He does love to prove you wrong, Pope.” Will has his arms crossed over his stomach and they rise and fall easily as he begins laughing again.

A look of realization settles over the two other men.

“Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” Benny and Pope shake hands across the table. “You’re a dick though. She’s been gone for four days now. I only have three days to find someone else to hire.”

“Damn.” Pope takes a sip of his drink. “I guess you better get your ass into the printer shop tomorrow and make some flyers. If you don’t, drinks are on you when the clock runs out.”

Will and Frankie cheer knowing that no matter how this bet ends, they will be getting free beer.

“What happens if a man calls before a woman does?” Benny looks smugly at Pope. “I’m not goin’ to tell him no if it’s in my three day window of search time.”

“Won’t happen. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Even if, what did you say before, a beautiful woman calls about the job, that doesn’t mean she’ll want to immediately hop into your bed.” Frankie states playfully.

“You think she’s going to want to hop into yours, Fish?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 @painitemoondust @pedritosgirl2000 @tpwkmera @romanarose @missbabyjay @missgurrl }

#through the scope #through the scope drabble #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #i love asks #literally please blow up my asks

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Twenty Six

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

As always, thank you so much for the love on this fic! This chapter is much softer than the last couple, giving our favs a well earned break from what I am putting them through in this story!

Please let me know what you think, your reactions genuinely mean the world to me!

-x-

Words: 3.2k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I remember when our girl's days started with shopping and then ended in a bar, not the McDonalds in the mall’s food court,” Penelope says, smiling as she pops a fry into her mouth.

Emily chuckles, “It’s in the rules that the pregnant woman gets to choose where we eat.”

“That’s true,” JJ chimes in, having a sip of her soda, “I always got to pick when I was having Henry.”

“See,” Emily says turning back to Penelope, “If you want to pick you have to have a baby of your own.”

Penelope visibly shivers, shaking her head, “No thank you, I am more than happy being the cool Aunt to Henry and Nugget.”

Emily frowns, scrunching up her nose as she smiles at JJ before turning back to Penelope, “Why are you calling my baby ‘Nugget?’”

“Well since you refuse to find out what you are having I’ve had to improvise,” Penelope replies, nodding towards the box of McNuggets in Emily’s hand, “Plus chicken nuggets seem to have become one of your main food groups lately.”

Emily clears her throat, her cheeks red with embarrassment, “I’ve been craving them.”

“All I ever wanted to eat when I was pregnant was this one particular taco from Taco Bell,” JJ says sympathetically, smiling wryly, “Poor Will went out to get it for me so many times in the middle of the night.”

Emily laughs, “Aaron has half-filled our freezer with nuggets, Jack is always delighted when he comes over.” She knew that Aaron was, at best, a few weeks away from hiding vegetables in her food just like he did for his son.

“Did you get everything you needed, Em?” JJ asks, looking at the bags of clothes on the spare chair at their table.

Emily nods in response, “I got a new bra and a couple of pairs of pants,” she says, scrunching her nose up, “None of my actual clothes fit me properly anymore but I’m going to try to put off buying maternity clothes as long as I can.”

“Just think, before we know it we’ll be throwing your baby shower,” Penelope says, her excitement clear, and Emily chuckles wryly, “Which reminds me, I’ll need your mother’s number so I can contact her about that. I tried looking for it but it’s listed as classified.”

Not for the first time, she finds herself grateful for the way she was raised, the way she can hold herself together in moments like this. It had been just over a week since she had seen Elizabeth, and it still stung when she thought about it, about how everything had gone south so fast. She was grateful that her mother had, so far, stuck to what she had asked and not contacted her, but it also hurt. An unspoken confirmation from her that she had chosen alcohol over her daughter. Over her grandchild. Despite everything, she still didn’t want anyone else to know, her need to keep it private, even from the people she considered her extended family, overriding anything else.

She supposed, on some level, it was probably a good thing she’d never seen her mother that often anyway. It would make things less suspicious, but she’s sure questions would come further down the line when the baby arrived.

When she and Aaron decided to finally get married.

She twists her engagement ring around her finger and smiles at her friend, “That’s not really her kind of thing,” she says before reaching for her drink and taking a sip before she expertly, switches the conversation “I’m only 17 weeks Pen, let's not wish the time away. There's a lot to do before then,” she finishes her fries and sighs, the salty food taking the edge off of her rising panic for everything she and Aaron needed to organise before the baby was born, “Like finding a place to live.”

It was a discussion that she and Aaron had started having when they found out she was pregnant. She loved her apartment, it had been her home for longer than anywhere ever had been before, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough for their growing family. Whilst the baby would be sleeping with them for the first few months after they were born, she didn’t want to eventually force Jack to share a bedroom with his sibling when he was with them.

She wanted a house, a home. Somewhere her kids could grow up and run around together. Somewhere they could get covered in mud in the backyard. Everything she’d watched in the movies when she was young and convinced herself she’d never have herself. Aaron, despite having moved into her apartment less than a year ago, agreed, and part of her wondered why they hadn’t just bought a house then. If she was honest with herself, she knew it was because a part, a very small part, had still wanted some kind of control of the situation.

“Have you still not found something?” JJ asks, well aware of the difficulty, and stress, of finding somewhere to live when pregnant.

Emily groans, shaking her head as she places her hand on her stomach, her almost constant indigestion bubbling away, “No. Aaron is insistent on splitting everything down the middle which is insane,” she exclaims, blowing out a breath, “I have all of this money just sitting in my trust fund.”

They’d been disagreeing about it almost as long as they’d been talking about buying a house. She wanted to use her money, to buy them somewhere they could live forever, but Aaron was hesitant. She could never quite figure out if it was incredibly misplaced machoism that made him feel like he had to be the provider, or if he was just uncomfortable with the amount of money she had, or if it was both.

Either way, it was frustrating, and she knew this was something they would likely run into a lot over the years.

“And you have how much in that trust fund?” Penelope inquiries, making both Emily and JJ laugh, the question a regular one on every girl's night since she’d first confirmed their suspicions that she had a trust fund at all.

“Pen, if you can’t get that information out of me when I’m drunk, you have no chance when I’m sober.”

___

Emily sighs as she slumps back on the couch, rubbing her hands over her face as she takes a break from looking at real estate listings.

“It can’t be that bad,” Aaron says as he sits next to her, handing over the ice cream she’d requested after dinner. She sits up, making Sergio who had been curled up in her lap, his head on her bump, jump up, meowing as he walks away.

Emily grumbles as she takes the bowl from him, narrowing her eyes as she takes a bite, moaning at the taste of chocolate, “It is almost impossible to find a house that has everything we want within the budget we have.”

Aaron sighs at the mention of it, familiar dread that what had so far only been a disagreement between them could easily transform into a full-blown argument, “Em-”

“I have the money, Aaron,” she says, placing her bowl of ice cream down on the table in front of them, her appetite for it gone.

“It’s your money, sweetheart.”

She scoffs, shaking her head at him. “We’re having a kid. We’re going to get married. What happened to ‘what’s mine is yours?’”

“I don’t know if that applies to literal millions of dollars,” he replies, remembering how he’d had to sit down when she originally told him how much money she had, a fearful glint in her eyes that it would change the way he viewed her. He sighs and places his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, “It’s just…I spoke to Dave and-”

“You listened to Dave about this?” She asks incredulously, cutting over him, “He’s been divorced four times, I don’t think he’s exactly the person to go to for relationship advice.”

“Three times,” Aaron corrects, a wry smile on his face, “And he’s the only other rich person I know.”

“I’m richer than him,” she grumbles under her breath as she crosses her arms over her chest. She looks at him and sees the flicker of amusement in his lips, the way his eyebrow arches, and she clears her throat, “Right, not helping,” she sighs, “Why are you so hesitant to do this my way? Is it some macho bullshit that you need to be the provider? Because if it is-”

“No,” he replies, squeezing her leg again, “I promise you it’s not that.”

She stares at him for a moment, desperately trying to see if he’s lying to her, but she’s satisfied he isn’t and she places her hand over his on her leg, “Then what is it?”

He doesn’t want to upset her, to make things harder on her than they had been since what small part of the relationship she had left with her mother had collapsed around her, but she deserved the truth.

“I’ve been divorced once already, sweetheart,” he says carefully, hating himself as her eyes go slightly wider, “I need to be practical. If you buy us a house-”

“It will be our house,” she says, cutting over him, “Not mine. And if anything happened between us,” the thought of it alone makes her breath catch in her throat, “It would still be our house. We’ll have both of our names on the deeds. I wouldn’t just screw you over like that.”

“I know,” he assures her, squeezing her hand, shaking his head at himself, “Why is this so important to you?”

She sighs, “That money in my trust fund came from my parents, and their parents, and the jobs they chose that meant we were never really a family,” she blows out a shaky breath, the wound from the conversation with her mother the week before still fresh, “And I always told myself that if I got married and had kids I’d use it to buy my family a home, to make something good out of the very thing that made my childhood miserable,” she places her hand on her bump, “For a long time I convinced myself I’d never have this and that I’d end up donating it all to a charity that would make mother furious, like a cat sanctuary or something, but now I do have you and Jack and Nugget.”

“I can’t believe the Nugget thing is catching on,” Aaron says, and she smiles at him, her eyes soft and full of love. She’d told him about their friend's nickname for their unborn child the moment she got home, and the confused look on his face had made her laugh so much she’d started to jokingly use it herself.

“What can I say, Pen is persuasive,” she replies. She cups his neck, her thumb brushing over his jawline, “Please let me do this for us. If it makes you feel better you can pay all the bills when we do find somewhere, or we can keep this place and rent it out and that can go into an account for the kids, but…just let me do this.”

He looks at her, and he isn’t sure he’s ever seen her so raw, so torn open. Her honesty a gateway that let him see the parts of her she still hid even from him sometimes. He picks up one of the more expensive listings she’d been looking at, far outside o the budget they’d tentatively agreed on and looks it over.

“You like this one?” He asks, and she nods, her lower lip in between her teeth as if she was trying to keep her hope contained. It was a beautiful home, a large colonial-style house with a brick facade, the interior was largely open plan on the first floor, with large archways separating the rooms, letting natural light filter throughout the house. The bedrooms and bathrooms were all a decent size, especially the master bedroom and its adjoining ensuite, and there was plenty of space in the backyard for Jack, the baby, and any other kids they may have to run around.

He finds himself mostly drawn to the huge, immaculately decorated, kitchen and he can picture himself making pancakes on a Sunday morning in there for his family.

“It’s a beautiful house,” he says, smiling at her and raising his eyebrow, “5 bedrooms?”

She rolls her eyes at the suggestive tone in his voice, hearing exactly what he hadn’t said, and pats his chest, “Easy there tiger, at least let me have this kid before you start thinking about filling up the spare rooms.”

Aaron chuckles and pulls her in for a kiss, “Let’s go see it.”

The way her eyes light up tells him he’s made the right call, that putting aside any deep-rooted concerns and misplaced fear about letting her do this for them, for their family, is exactly what he should have done weeks ago when she first brought this up.

“Really?” She asks, her smile wide, any ability to hide her emotions well and truly lost in the first trimester of her pregnancy.

“Really,” he confirms, kissing her again, “I can see our family growing up there.”

She throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she kisses him, the action lost in her wide smile, “I love you so fucking much.”

He chuckles and wraps his arms around her, pulling her so she was straddling his waist, her knees on either side of his hips, “I love you too.”

“I’ll call the agent in the morning.”

He nods and pulls her in for another kiss, smiling at the feel of her bump pressed up against him. “We won’t be able to do this for much longer,” he says, moving to kiss her cheek and then her neck, “We won’t have room.”

She pulls back and smiles at him, and she runs her fingers through his hair, “In that case,” she says, leaning in to kiss him again, “We’d better make the most of it before we’re regulated to just the bed.”

___

Cases with children were always harder.

The desperation to solve the case, to find the bad guy who was doing the worst of things possible to the most innocent, more intense. She’d always felt great empathy for the parents in these situations, but now she could put herself somewhat in their shoes, her love for Jack, for the baby in her belly, enough to make her feel sick at the mere thought of something happening to them.

She watches Aaron from her desk, her focus on her paperwork limited at best as she keeps looking through the blinds in his office, desperate to go check on him. She knew he found cases like this harder too.

There were survivors this time, a little girl and a teenage boy reunited with their parents, the recovery from all that they had endured only just beginning, and that was something they could cling on to. Evidence that they all needed sometimes to remind themselves of why they did this. That didn’t make it any easier, and she knew they’d all remember the wails of one of the victim's fathers when he realised his son had been alive only one day ago.

She blows out a breath and looks back at her paperwork, determined to get a little more done before they headed home, when she is distracted once again, but this time it wasn’t out of concern for her fiancé.

It feels like tiny bubbles. Bursting against the inside of her belly, as if tiny butterflies were floating around, their wings delicate. She places her hand on her stomach and gasps, choking on a laugh.

“Are you ok, Em?” Derek asks and she turns to look at him, nodding as she laughs again.

“Yeah. I…I think I just felt the baby move for the first time,” she says, her hand still on the bump as she continues to feel the movement on the inside, “It feels weird.”

Derek smiles at her, his eyes soft as he nods towards Aaron’s office, “Go tell Hotch, we all need something good after today.”

She nods, not needing any other encouragement, and she stands, almost bounding up the stairs as she approaches his office. She knocks on his open door and waits for him to look up. He looks exhausted, the lines in his face deeper than usual, as if they’d been carved in.

“Do you have a minute?” She asks, and he smiles at her, already standing up from his desk.

“For you, always.”

It makes her smile, and she knows it’s one of the things he’s learnt from his past mistakes with Haley. He always made time for her, and in turn, she knew that was because she understood the job, the work that could sometimes consume them both. It was yet another way that, if she believed in fate, would make her think they were made for each other.

She takes a seat on the couch in his office and waits for him to sit next to her, his arm automatically around her shoulder. She knew they couldn’t be seen from the main bullpen here, only if someone was on the walkway, but she was sure no one would begrudge them this after the last few days.

“I just felt the baby move,” she says, her throat closing up as she says it outloud, her hormones getting the better of her as she fights back tears.

“What?” He asks, his voice full of wonder as he presses his hand into her bump, and it makes her laugh.

“It will be a while before you can feel anything from the outside honey,” she says, resting her head against his shoulder. She feels the movement again, and she smiles, placing her hand over his, “I wish you could feel it though it's amazing. And really fucking weird.”

Aaron laughs and kisses her temple, keeping his lips against her skin, “Nugget is the size of a pomegranate this week.”

She snickers at his use of the baby’s newfound nickname and pulls back to look at him, “I know, I’m reading the same book as you,” she says softly, “Spencer told me today that the baby weights as much as a mozzarella ball,” she crinkles her brow, her stomach rumbling at the thought of food, “Which, strangely, really made me want Italian food.”

Aaron kisses her, eternally grateful for her, for the life they were building, “Sweetheart, I’d go to Venice to get you pizza right now if you asked me.”

She chokes on a laugh, but it comes out as more of a sob, her happiness overwhelming in a way she didn’t know was possible. “That’s sweet, but I’m totally content with that place down the street from our apartment.”

“Whatever you want, Em,” he says, kissing her again, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, “Whatever you want.”

-x-

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