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#so life tip!!!!! tell your friends you love them. because i promise they love you back :)
gentlenotes-moved · 8 months
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hey, you guys. life gets so much more fun when you let yourself enjoy the small pleasures of life, love your friends loudly and wholeheartedly, and let yourself be loved.
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tqmies · 6 months
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ZB1 + Jealous Sex
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ZB1 after one of you is jealous!
note: legal members only (not including gunwook or yujin!) & as always, minors dni!
JIWOONG's eyebrows just furrow because, really? Did you seriously think any of these run-of-the-mill men at this party could make him feel insecure? They don't but they do manage to piss him off. Why were you so close to them? You were just being friendly? You're a liar.
You babble incoherently as he held the vibrator to your abused cunt, having climaxed more times than you could count before having it ripped away by his hands. All he did was crudely laughs at your expense. "What's wrong baby? Earlier you had no problems acting like a slut. I'm just treating you like one."
You knew ZHANG HAO was cute, everyone knew it. Doesn't mean you appreciate everyone flirting with him though.. And his seemingly oblivious act to it all has you seeing red. God, you had to teach him a lesson.
"Babe, s-slow down." He lets out, cock already spent, your eagerness to get him to cum again has him tearing up. His face red as he bites his bottom lip, letting out low whimpers. You continue bouncing on him though, fingers digging into his shoulders as you use them as an anchor. You scoff, trying not to let any moans slip out. "Think any of those girls out there could have you like this baby?"
HANBIN knows that it's not your fault, but it doesn't stop him from getting a little jealous! His friends had crashed your beach date, catching your body in its full glory in the cute bikini you donned. He swears one of them even popped a boner from it!
"You're mine," He growled, your leg thrown over his shoulder. He hadn't even managed to slip your bikini off, only pushing it to the side enough to enter his fat tip into you. Could you blame him? You just looked so good in it! "Only I get to touch you like this, right?"
MATTHEW had been begging you to join him at the gym for months and you finally gave in. Things were fine until you managed to catch a group of girls giggling at your boyfriend in a compression shirt. Leading to an argument that he found himself determined to make up for.
His tongue licked the stripe up your clit, placing light kisses on your thighs to tease you afterwards, before tongue fucking you. "Don't act silly my love, you know you're the only one I want. Those girl's can look all they want, but you're the one that get's me this way."
TAERAE felt the familiar green monster rear its ugly head into his life the minute he spotted you being asked out at the coffee shop he was here to meet you at. You immediately declined the other, but he still couldn't help but feel a little insecure. It was up to you to show him he had no reason to worry.
"Hmm," You mumble, jerking him off as you prepare to deepthroat. He whines, holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you press kisses to the flushed tip. "Prettiest cock in the world attached to my pretty boy. No where else I'd rather be then here taking your load down my throat." He can't even manage to stutter a response before you're gagging on his shaft.
You can't blame anyone who hits on RICKY, people flock to him like bee's to honey. But two can play at that game, and you played it quite well, but Ricky doesn't like sharing.
"Gonna fill you with so much cum that it leaks out," He has you folded into a mating press, your walls sucking him in as you jolt from how rough he was fucking you. He was determined to drill into you until your pussy was molded for only him. "Lets see you talk to the guys with it dripping down your legs."
He doesn't get jealous, or at least that's what GYUVIN tells himself. He likes that you get along with his friends! No he doesn't mind one of his friends offering you a jacket. Or saving you a seat by them! It's all perfectly fine.
"Please, please don't leave me. I'd cry every day and- haah - I promise, none of them can treat you like I can." He begs, too busy caught up in his own ministrations that he can't even notice you're fucked too dumb to properly respond. Your back arched as his balls hit your ass with every stroke as you try to keep yourself propped up. "I'm promise I'm good enough, I'll be the best boyfriend- shit - you could ever ask for."
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writingsbychlo · 7 months
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LAST TIME | tom riddle
summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.
word count; 4153
notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.
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“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”
He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 
“Tom—”
“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”
“There is nothing to say—”
“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t—”
“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”
“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”
“But why?”
Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 
“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”
“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”
“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”
“Tom—”
“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 
“Okay, fine.”
And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 
You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 
The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 
The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 
The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 
The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 
The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 
You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 
As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 
“Tom…”
“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”
“I do still love you, Tommy.”
“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 
Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 
“Have some faith in me.” 
Another kiss.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 
He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 
You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 
In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 
Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 
Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 
“Tom…”
His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 
He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 
“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”
Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 
Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”
Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 
His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 
Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 
“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”
“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”
It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 
“Tom, baby—”
“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”
With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 
Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 
“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”
“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 
Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 
Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 
His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 
Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 
Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 
Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 
It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 
“Was that good, doll?”
“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 
“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”
His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 
His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 
You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”
He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 
“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”
“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 
Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 
“Tom, I’m—”
“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 
His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 
“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 
Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 
“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”
He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 
If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 
It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 
It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 
“Tommy…”
“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”
He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 
“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 
You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 
A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”
“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 
Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 
Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 
“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”
“I love—.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”
His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”
He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”
“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”
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theunaestheticstudyblr · 10 months
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Something that schools don't teach you but is much needed: how to have a work/life balance that works for you.
As someone who works fulltime and does classes and attempts a social life and hobbies, this gets very hard and stressful. But here are some tips I have for helping:
Learn to say no and not feel guilty. Picking up that extra shift when you had plans? Politely decline. Your friend is begging you to take ANOTHER class when your plate is full so you can have one together? Just be honest and say you can't.
Prioritize your sleep and eating. You can't function well if you don't sleep and eat enough. These are not things you can just push aside and do when you get the time. These are basic things you need to survive. These are literally basic needs. Don't throw them to the side. Your body does its best to take care of you. Make sure you take care of it too.
Have boundaries and be firm with them. If you tell your manager you can only work x, y, and z, don't let them add a or b to it. Respectfully but firmly let them know that you can't take on those things and if they have you do a or b, your work overall is going to majorly decrease in quality. Schedule time for yourself. For studying. For going out. And treat those set aside times just like you would if they were work or school times or appointments. You are the most important part of your life.
Understand that some weeks are going to be absolute hell. You're not going to have enough time. You're going to be exhausted and cry and throw things and want to quit everything. You got this babe. Take breaks and remind yourself how amazing you are and treat yourself after.
Prioritize things and adopt better habits. Wash your dishes right after using them. Get a set bedtime. Get easy breakfast things. Take a walk.
Your friends will understand if you just need time alone. I promise. They love you and don't hate you because you're overwhelmed. I PROMISE. And if they don't, maybe they aren't really your friends.
Not everyone is a friend. Some people are acquaintances. Some people are a 5 minute smoke break at work for your sanity. Some people are drinking buddies. Some people are library study date friends. And that's ok! Not everyone has to be your bestie. And trying to put that much energy into that many people will drain you.
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qiwoomi · 1 month
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officially yours (his)
gojo satoru x fem! reader
fluff, established relationship, marriage, modern au, slightly suggestive in the end
a/n: idk how long it's been, almost about a year but I'm back again. this time school isn't an obstacle anymore :] wrote this while seasons - wave to earth is playing in the background
If years ago you're telling the Gojo Satoru you would marry him, he would tell you it would be a dream out of reach. Because back then, he's not confident in himself to make someone as beautiful- inside and out as you happy. It might be because of his rough past, and he didn't want to risk you going through it as he doesn't want you to get hurt.
You are too delicate, too fragile that he's sure that he doesn't deserve you. Hell, he would even risk letting someone else have you if it meant you don't have to go through a single trouble that he always endures. Though he's used to it by now, but you don't.
So how is it possible that here he is, standing on the shoreline of the vast ocean of your dreams, his shoes a little drenched and stained with sand. But never mind all that. His eyes are on you, teary and red though it won't fall. His lips are trembling, he wants to say something, but he knew that he would be sobbing and he promised himself that he won't ruin the ceremony that unite both of you in sickness and health.
There you are in your white wedding dress, your dream wedding dress, as you held the bouquet of flowers in your hand, keeping up a smile even though you're also on the verge of tears. Your eyes are blurry, but your father guided you to him, letting go of you as you're now standing in front of each other.
You allowed yourself to sniffle. Geto then starts doing the speech and declaration to officiate both of you in your wedding day, Satoru's eyes never fell from yours.
It's time to declare each other's wedding vows, which you anticipate. Satoru fixed his bow tie nervously, as you smiled.
"[Name], my love, my heart, my life, my everything." He starts, and his voice already cracked which earned a few laughs from your families and friends. He was full on sniffling, nose red as the first drop of tears stained his cheek. "First of all, I want to thank you a lot for everything you've done for me. Taking care of me even when I'm whiny and clingy, even though I stained your shirt with my snot as you patted me to sleep. Always being there to comfort me because you know that I'm not fine, even though I insist I am. You always knew before me, and this is one of the reasons why I fall in love with you." He manage to make through the first paragraphs, as onslaught of tears stained his cheeks again.
"Oh my god, I'm crying." He accidentally slipped into the mic, as chuckles are heard again. He's trying to wipe them off with his sleeves now. "Does anyone have a tissue?" He sniffled, as Geto handed him a q-tip. He tried wiping his tears with them, as it didn't do as much. "What does a q-tip gonna do? I need a tissue." He sniffled again, only realising the tissue in his breast pocket when you pointed them out.
"Ah, thank god." He sniffled, as he tried to compose himself while wiping his tears. Now the audiences were laughing, which makes you laugh too even though you're also about to drown in tears. "Okay." He cleared his throat, lifting up the paper in his view which is stained by droplets of tears.
"I'm sure that even if I continue listing them down, words wouldn't be enough to express my love to you- because it runs deep. And it is dangerous, at least this is what I thought when I was so young and naive, still learning what real love means." He sniffled. "But I got addicted to it, you're too addictive that I'm sure the thought of you will never go away. Everyday I wake up, I'm thankful that I even get the chance to be with you. And I try to make it last, even though temporary, these fleeting moments is my motivator."
He inhaled, before reading the next last paragraph. "My love, I want you to know that this has been my dream for the longest time. And to see and experience myself to be officially yours is a dream come true. I'm yours, always yours from the start and eternally. I promise myself from the start, and I want you to know that I'll always be with you no matter in sickness or in health, in the hardest days of your life or the easiest. I love you wholeheartedly in all versions of yourself. My heart, I have devoted myself to you, and should you think that I'm not, I'll always remind you through my actions. I love you, my [Name], my wife now and forever."
Gojo Satoru managed to finish, his tears are now at bay only for it to stream continously again when it's your turn to recite your wedding vows. It is safe to say that Gojo Satoru cried more than you, and he took 1 to 2 business days to process your marriage before finally going back to his 'normal' safe. And you love him all the same.
bonus:
It was late on your wedding night, after making love with him. You laid on his chest, catching your breath as he caressed your hair, his eyes on the ceiling as if lost in thought. It was quiet, but you love it.
"My love?" He starts, his eyes now on you, admiring your features. His hand on your hair is so comforting, that it took you a second to answer him. "Mhm? What is it baby?" You asked, looking up at him with sincereness and love in your eyes.
He pouted, frowning a little. Whatever it is that's weighing on his mind, you want to make it go away. "I'm sorry for ruining our wedding. I just can't hold it- you know. I never thought we would go this far." He mumbled, as you now start cupping his face, making him look into your eyes.
"Hey, it's fine. You know, I love that you're not afraid to show your true self. I love you. You make the wedding more memorable." I reassured him, speaking softly that he might even fall asleep to my voice.
Satoru didn't answer, though it's evident he's happy to know your thoughts now that his frowns and pout go away. "I love you too. You know, we're not even done for the night." He teased, now going back to his 'normal' self.
You slapped his chest playfully, though there's no denying it when your cheeks are flushed.
a/n: this is inspired from one of the videos I came across on ig (iykyk) I wish I copied the link but I lost it ☹️ the video literally screams satoru and you can't fight me.
EDIT: HERE'S THE LINK GUYS!!!
© @qiwoomi
est. 250324
do not copy, translate or repost my work.
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s1ater · 2 years
Text
don’t tell.
pairings. mattheo riddle x fem!reader
about. mattheo can’t help but want his best mates girl and couldn’t be more thrilled when he finds out the attraction goes both ways
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warnings. foul language, smut; degradation, creampie, cheating
ricky rocks. 🪺 it kills me that this story has a community label
the one thing mattheo couldn’t have in his life, he never thought it’d be a girl.
girls came easy, but they were never anything that came to mind too much; he had other things to worry about, things to do.
but he’d never thought that that girl, the girl he wanted, would be one of his best friends girl.
none of his friends were ever loyal, none of them except theo. he was a sucker for those long term relationships because the type of girls who were only looking for one night stands and hook ups made him annoyed and had more issues than he could deal with, it was too bad he got stuck with one exactly like that.
you loved theo, more than anyone, but old habits died hard. especially with all of theo’s friends breathing down your neck, begging for a taste.
but you never gave in, not until mattheo.
when you first met him, he didn’t say a word to you. you weren’t even aware of him half the time, his presence was forgettable till your eyes always seemed to find his and his body always seemed to be pressed up against yours in your dreams.
it soon became very obvious who you wanted and he knew it when he was no longer the one initiating the starring—giving him the go ahead to push your buttons.
“i’ll fuck you straight.”
“yeah, you wish riddle,” you starred back at him with a challenging look, “good luck on getting the chance.”
he scoffed, “you act like you’re so loyal.”
you immediately frowned in annoyance, “and you act like you’re all that.”
he smiled, leaning over to your level, “because i am.”
you rolled your eyes, looking him up and down with what looked like disgust, “hop off your throne, riddle. i love my boyfriend.”
“it sure doesn’t seem like it when you’re looking at me,” he tipped his head slightly, a fake expression of thought coming over his face, “you better work on that, y/n, otherwise i’m not going to be the only one who notices.”
he walked away, but some part of you wished he hadn’t and that the looks you two shared, would be caught on to, so you could just get it over with and finally get to fuck him.
that came sooner rather than later—but not how you thought. the opportunity was practically handed to the two of you when half the boys were out for gallivanting down in the forbidden forest and theo had told you to wait for him in the common room.
it was too bad he was running late.
“why don’t you sit down?” mattheo’s stare was narrowing and studying as he motioned you to sit in the big black leather chair across from him. “you’ve got a while longer to wait.”
you scoffed, “alright, but i’m sure theo-“
“who cares about theodore, he’s probably fucking around with a blonde from ravenclaw, anyway.”
the sentence caught you off guard and made you slightly pause as you sat down. you sure he was just messing with you, but with the right motivation and pressure, theo could get convinced into anything—maybe even fucking around with a blonde ravenclaw.
“he wouldn’t do that.”
“right, because you’re the cheater in the relationship.”
you scowled at him, but your cheeks turned hot at the truth of his words. he knew you well for some reason. he knew you weren’t honest—never in any relationship had you ever been in—and he knew you were also easily pressured into things.
“why don’t you show me something,” he nodded toward you, “don’t try to hide your true colors now that we’re alone.”
“piss off.”
“now don’t he so harsh.”
you rolled your eyes, thinking, thinking how wrong this was but still stood up from your seat across from him, and you still slowly glided toward him while your fingers grasped the top buttons of your pure white blouse, “don’t tell.”
“no promises,” he grinned, sipping from the bottle of booze he held as you were now in front of him, slowly leaning before him still teasing the unbuttoning of your shirt.
“mattheo,” you whined, but still continuing with your actions, giving him a peak of your black laced bra. “you’re not being nice.”
he pulled you to his lap roughly, causing you to gasp as you were now straddling him, “why would i?” his fingers reached where yours were, helping you unbutton the material of your shirt, “you’re so damn teasing all the time.”
you rocked your hips forward, pouting at his words, “shame.” mattheo’s breath became uneven for the slightest second, his eyes dragging up to yours at the feeling of your heat pressing onto his cock.
“you’re a fucking, cunt,” he scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smirk on his face. “don’t act like you don’t want this as much as i do.”
“sure, mattheo,” you tauntingly smiled, rocking back and forth again before pressing your lips against his. he immediately kissed back, his hands slowly pulling the blouse from your arms.
he smelled good and he felt good—you felt you could barely get enough despite how close he was with his arms wrapped around you now, pulling you closer and closer till his chest was pressed against yours.
he was making you desperate, real desperate with his taunting that you could barely keep up the returning taunting facade.
“let me cum in your mouth, yeah?” he pulled away and was already unbuckling his belt from beneath you, cuing you to get off the chair and to your hands and knees as he stood, “be a good girl, suck me off, y/n.”
you nodded slowly, deciding whether if this was really okay… but you suddenly didn’t care, especially when your mouth started watering the moment his cock sprung from his boxers, thick and waiting for you.
“ready, love,” he didn’t wait for your words and he barely waited for you; his hips meeting your mouth, eager, “fuck,” you eased your mouth down his length, eyes already watering even before the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat.
“such a fucking good girl,” he grunted, his hand twirling a make shift pony tail of your hair while his head tipped back, his mind filling of bliss with each suck you took. “you love my cock, don’t you?”
he thrusted into your mouth, face fucking you, helping you induce pleasure as you tried to keep up by running and swirling your tongue along his length.
you couldn’t even think to answer, or hum, or anything. you were enjoying it too much and couldn’t help let your mind travel already to fast to the thought of him fucking you.
you could tell he wanted to just by how much enjoyment he was getting from this.
and he pulled out abruptly, leaving spit and precum running down your chin with teary eyes, “let me cum inside you, show theo who really owns your body.”
you let him lay you down against the cold floor, his body hovering over yours as he undone his dress shirt before pulling it off fast with eager fingers, that watched you with dark eyes.
you watched anxiously, your eyes eating every inch of his body and the scars that decorated his tan skin. your chest heaved up and down, your heart pounding, underestimating what he might do with the stare he had.
he gripped his cock, stroking it roughly before laying on your body fully, hiking up your skirt and pushing your parties to the side. he kissed you softly before pushing into you, prompting a sharp whine to resonate from your lips, “take it.”
your hands gripped his shoulders as he slowly inched into you before harshly shoving his full length into your cunt, immediately catching into your sweet spot. a high moan released into the air as your stomach rumbled with pleasure and pain to your walls from just barely getting used to the thickness of his cock.
“fucking whore,” he continued to fuck into you as his mouth began to speak nasty words that made your stomach twist in pleasure, whimpering as he spoke. “you love your boyfriend’s best mate using you like a doll?”
you gasped as his hand caught your face, gripping it harshly, “of course you do,” he smiled devilishly before, slapping the side of your hip, “get on your knees.”
you whimpered as you did so, his hands immediately gripping your hips and continuing to fuck you stupid the moment he pushed into you again. his finger tips pained you as he pressed hard enough to leave bruises.
“i want him to know who fucked you this good,” his hand grasped your throat, pulling you closer to his body as his mouth hovered over your ear before sucking and biting on your neck. “i want him to see what a dirty little whore you are, taking me without denial.”
“mattheo, please,” you whined, grabbing his hand that lied on your hip, “please don’t.”
“don’t what, huh?”
“please don’t leave marks.”
you could feel his cock twitch to the whine of your voice, a grunt resonating from his mouth. he didn’t say a word to reply but began to savor the few minutes left of his high, roughly pumping in and out of you as you moaned—soon coming upon your own.
“who fucks you better, huh?” he leaned back near your face, “me or him, tell me?“
“you mattheo,” you stuttered, feeling your vision go blurry and your limbs grow numb the moment his high came undone and pushed cum deep into your cunt, leaving you marked.
“that’s what i thought.”
@sophiekay20 @aliyahsutherland @multifandom-obsessed @thomaslefteyebrow @transias @sambucky8 @heyitsmeimdead @padf00ts-l0ver @thehuntress09 @afidiofobia @i-love-scott-mccall @greengarsstuff @demigirl-with-problems @sunsetcurve-95
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lunargrapejuice · 25 days
Note
helloo!! i wasn’t sure if you’re still doing this so delete this if you’re not/don’t feel like it but can i please request [You’re so, so, so pretty] + childe (i’ve been missing him lately)
dreamy sigh.. he is so cute 🥺 i hope you enjoy!<3
"you are so, so, so pretty" | childe x reader with no pronouns used
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“see you, zhongli!” 
you wave at the tall funeral parlor consultant before turning around and easily falling into step with childe who had just paid the bill despite your invite to dinner being from zhongli. not that you were complaining, your hardly contained elation to go once hearing childe would be joining you was evident to you both. you’re thankful and flustered that he insisted on walking you home, giving you time to walk side by side down the liyue street leading back to your apartment with a comfortable closeness between you.
he takes in your every word, just as he had at dinner and every other time when he couldn’t take his azure eyes off of you and took every chance he could to make you laugh just so he could see you smile and hear his favorite melody. he’s so very screwed; a man whose heart is digging its own grave but he loves it.
he loves you, and the words are on the tip of his tongue. they always are but of late there was hardly any strength he could muster to hold them back and damn that archon because after listening to the harbinger gush about you too many times to count it was all his doing that childe is beside tonight, ready to give you his heart, prepared for you to send your polearm straight through it when you tell him you’re better off friends, that his job is enough reason to say no.
it’s kept him quiet, uncharacteristically nervous because he really doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. not when you’re so close to him that he could reach out and pull you into his chest, kiss you for the first of many, many times just tonight if you’d let him. just a few simple words that would bring you the closest you’ve ever been, the start of so much more that he’s dreamt of with you for longer than you know. or it would be the ending of you in his life, which he doesn’t know how to live without. just the thought -
“hey!” the sudden rise in your voice breaks him from the tug of war between his head and his heart, trying to stay one step ahead of every pulse through his veins that urges him to confess to you, his heart begging for you in a way he can’t ignore. he stops next to you right in the middle of the bridge, the night life slow enough that no one else is around. “what’s up with you tonight?” there’s a sudden change in your tone, unhidden worry and what he thinks might be hurt underneath it all. 
it tugs at his heart strings but he covers it with a smile as he replies. “nothing,” and you almost believe him. “c’mon,” he tilts his head in the direction of your place. “i’m listening.”
your eyes study him keenly and he hopes in the dull moonlight you can’t see the heat in his cheeks under your attention. “okay but i’m watchin’ you ajax,” you say it like a sweet promise but with a hint of mischief, like you really might catch him in the act of his emotions and easily uncover the truth from the harbinger who holds more secrets than you know.
the use of his name, the touch of you wrapping your arm in his and tugging him along leaves him utterly speechless. completely defenseless against you. all he can do is follow after you, letting you lead the way because he couldn’t be torn from looking at you, watching your lashes flutter with every blink, the way your lips move as you speak, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose when the wind blows. he couldn’t process or think of anything else other than you; how much he needs you, how much he adores you and wants to shower you in love, in every possible way he knows how. he’s far from perfect.. fuck he’s so far from what you deserve but..
this time it’s his steps that stop you, the quickness and strength of his stance nearly bringing you flying back into him but he effortlessly catches you. he doesn’t know where he’s stopped you at, if you’re close to your apartment or if you’re impeding the way for anyone else. he only knows that he loves you and never wants to forget how you look under the lantern light hanging on his arm.
“childe?” he remains quiet and you feel your chest tighten. taking a step, you move to be in front of him but don’t let go of his arm, somehow feeling like he needs your touch right now. or perhaps it was you that needed it. “ajax?” your voice is softer this time, paired with a gentle squeeze against his arm.
it brings him back to you and in seconds he’s reaching for you, his movements slow, as if to give you time to pull away and stop him but you don’t move. 
“you’re so, so, so pretty,” his words come out in a whisper, in time with the pads of his fingers brushing along your forehead, moving strands of hair from your face. 
wide eyed and with your mouth slightly agape, you stare up at him. “t-thank you.”
the smile he adorns is boyish and love struck and all of it has you bursting with butterflies and warmth that you swear is going to consume you both is a flurry of fiery wings if they escape you. and at his next words, you think they just might.
“can i kiss you?”
you don’t know how you find the strength in your knees to walk but you take a step closer to him, closing the last of the distance between you, his other arm coming around your waist and its all you can do is cling to him with a murmur of ‘please’ before his lips are on yours.
♡♡♡♡♡
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
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ghouljams · 10 months
Note
Living vicariously through Bee, can we have Bee either impulsively purchases or has new livestock bestowed upon her, except…she has no place to put them. And Königs like god dammit (affectionate) and helps her build a ramshackle paddock to keep them in for the time being. Can include whatever kinky or plot shit you want, competency kink, size difference, stronk, whatever. I just need validation cause I just had to help my dad build a quarantine paddock in the burning sun this afternoon cause he impulsively bought more sheep 😭
Maelstrom you fuckin beauty I am so here for this. Bee is exactly the type to fall victim to the supply store chicks and bring home way too many because she wanted them to have friends. She is not made for farming but she loves animals and is so stupid. This is going to be very little relevant plot stuff and mostly me making König's life harder.
You call König as soon as you get home, worrying your lip with your teeth and staring at your new family member. You need to have a good long talk with yourself about impulse decisions and saying no to your neighbors. The line hardly rings twice before it picks up.
"What's wrong?" König asks instead of a greeting. You don't know why something has to be wrong for you to call him. Although thinking about it there's usually something wrong when you call him.
“You have to promise not to be mad.” You hear König exhale over the phone, a slow release of pressure.
“I promise I won’t be mad.”
"Ok, I- actually don't know where to start," you tell him honestly, that seems to work best with him. There's a short beat before he tells you,
"I'll be right there."
König stares down at the little pig you hold aloft for him to see. It’s eyes are almost as big and shiny as yours, it's little nose snuffles as you stare entreatingly at him and god dammit he can't say no to you.
"You need a paddock, and a shed." He tells you, already making a mental list of what he’ll need to grab from his place.
"Is a paddock like a little fenced area?” You ask, holding your squirmy piglet like a baby. König nods.
“Do you have a paddock?” Sometimes it feels like he’s really holding your hand through a conversation. You swear you’re not normally this stupid.
“I have a busted up fence behind the house.”
“Show me.”
-
König crouches next to one of the old fence posts behind your house, testing its stability before nailing up the wire netting he’d grabbed from home. He tips the brim of his hat with his finger to glance at the rest of the posts in the area, quick mental math buzzing and filling in where he’d need to put missing posts. When he stands again the roll of his shoulders as he straightens to full height is mesmerizing. You don’t think you’d properly internalized just how strong he must be. Watching him work is certainly… enlightening.
He’s really good at this, and you- you have nothing to add that could help. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you would’ve been completely lost without him to here. Your heart clenches in your chest watching him twirl his hammer idly. You should really be doing something besides watching him. The flex of his bicep as he wraps his hand around the next post and shakes it, the tightness in his back as he raises the hammer and brings it down hard on the top of the post to force it further into the ground... You let out a pleased hum involuntarily. Are you proud of your ineptitude? No. Is seeing König work sort of worth it? Absolutely.
“You sure I can’t help?” You ask, more to be polite than to actually offer. König glances at you, the soft patterned sundress, the sandals, and shakes his head. No, the only thing you need to do is keep looking at him like that.
“Don’t need any help,” He sits back on his heels, staring at the fence post for a moment, before he looks back at you, “actually, if you had something to drink?”
You nod quickly, feeling like just the worst host in the world. You’d been so busy drooling over how hot your poor neighbor is you’d forgotten how hot he must be working out here. You can see the sweat on his skin, the wetness of his shirt where it sticks to him, of course he’s thirsty.
“I’ve got some lemonade, how’s that?”
“Perfect, thank you Hummelchen.” You smile at the nickname, whatever it means it feels affectionate and it makes you happy. You’ve never had a nickname before.
You steal a last look at the flex of his biceps before scurrying back to the house. This you can do, piling ice high in a glass and pouring lemonade just to where you think it might spill. You pop another glass in the freezer for later and feel fairly pleased with yourself, thinking ahead for once. You grab the glass to take out to König, careful not to spill as you cross the grass.
He's back to working hard, tapping nails into fence posts, and making sure everything is as secure as possible for you. For you. He's doing this for you. Just like he does everything for you, and doesn't ask for shit in return. It would be hot if you weren't starting to worry you're taking advantage of him. He looks up when he hears you approaching, his eyes crinkling pleasantly at the edges. He doesn't seem to mind helping you out. You should really find a way to return the favor.
You hold the glass out to him, "Looking good!"
He hums, fingers bumping yours as he takes the glass causing some of the drink to spill over your grip. He wants to tell you you're more than welcome to stay and watch, that he likes feeling your gaze so heavy on him, so appreciative, but he stops.
You lick the sticky sweet drink from your fingers without thinking, a terrible habit you've picked up living alone. König's eyes trace the motion, the soft pink of your tongue as it slides over your fingers. His own fingers tightening on the cool glass, feeling the creak of it trying to hold up under his grip. You don't know what you do to him, making an inquisitive noise at his staring, wiping the wet of your fingers on your skirt.
"You need something else?" You ask, König's voice catches in his throat. You. You. God, only you. You're all he needs and then some. You really must not know. Fuck, he wants to show you, wants to make sure you know how your every movement affects him. Maybe then you wouldn't be so spectacularly naive.
"No," he finally grits. You grin, just happy to have helped even a little.
"Just grab me if you do, I gotta finish up the laundry but I'll be back for your glass." You pat the post nearest you with finality and turn back to the house. König watches you go, thumb rubbing at the condensation on the glass.
König's hand settles on your shoulder as you're pinning sheets in place on the line. It makes you jump a little, you'd been thinking and hadn't heard him walk up.
"Paddock's done," His hand is damp with sweat and dirt, his voice almost as warm as the air. You glance over your shoulder at him and have to pretend you're not staring. It's weird he'd lose the shirt and not the bandana but you're not complaining. He's littered with scars but they only add to the appeal of the cut musculature, did he walk out of a museum? He's gorgeous, and your throat feels dry for any sane words but "wow" and "Holy shit" and "do you mind if I just touch you for a little." You tear your eyes away from his abs to look at the paddock.
Perfectly straight fence and evenly spaced poles, your new critter already snuffling about in the grass. There's even water and food troughs, you wonder if he found those in the old shed or if he brought them from his place. Somehow the well fit fence makes him all the more attractive.
"You'll need a shed for it, but it should be fine for tonight." König tells you, you nod a little and swallow the drool you're working on.
"Piggy smalls can sleep in the house, he's little so-" you cut yourself off, the questioning concern in König's eye makes you think you've said something wrong again.
"Is that what you've named it?" You nod quickly and hear him snort.
"You like it?" You ask, just to hear him tell you no.
"It's very... you." He says after a moment, smile wide enough you can almost see the edges under his bandana. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and you twist your fingers into your skirt so you don't reach to try and touch him.
"Are you staying for dinner?" You ask quickly, before you lose the nerve to say anything to him.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"Yes."
He likes the way you say it, like a sigh. Like you could never say anything else to him. "Then I'll stay."
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moremaybank · 1 year
Note
Hey love, I hope you're doing well. Is it okay if you do 17 with JJ Maybank?
I really love your work
- 🐈‍⬛
"what's wrong? why'd you stop?" / "nothing's wrong. i just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."
warnings 18+, protected sex (did i really just write that?), a mix of soft and rough!jj, language, i think that's it?? this warning feels really short
author's note thank you my love!
prompt list (requests closed) / jj masterlist
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"Are you sure about this?"
Your eyes search JJ's, and you can see the doubt behind them. Doubt that you didn't want him as bad as he wanted you. And then you saw the guilt. Guilt from laying his eyes on his best friend, his personal definition of forbidden fruit.
The thing is, JJ doesn't realize that you've been dreaming of being in his arms since you were a kid. To run your hands through his sea salt-coated hair, kiss his pink lips, and tell him you love him. And, if you're lucky, hear him say he loves you too.
"Absolutely. I've wanted this forever, J," you respond. The uncertainty fails to wash away from his features, and you bring a hand up to his face. Your thumb grazes over his cheek as you look deep into his eyes. "I promise."
Finally, finally, a grin spreads across JJ's face. He wastes no time, surging forward and kissing you as if he's dying, and your lips hold the magical potion that can save his life.
It all happens so quickly. Your clothes are shed. Your hands are in each other's hair and all over each other's skin. Your lips collide over and over in a fit of passion. The kisses are made with love and lust in equal measure as you two finally partake in what your dreams are made of.
JJ's lips leave bruising kisses up and down your body, marking you all over and finally claiming you as his. When he makes it back up to your breathtaking face, he captures your lips in another harsh kiss. His tongue dances with yours, but you catch him off-guard, wanting to try your hand at asserting some kind of dominance. You suck on his tongue, pulling back before eagerly chasing his lips once more. He lets you and comes back time times harder than the last.
That is, until he abruptly pulls away.
"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" You ask, your brows furrowed with concern as you try to catch your breath.
JJ's hand smoothes the hair away from your face before taking hold of your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes trail over your entire frame, naked and beautiful and begging to be touched, and he gives you a tooth-achingly-sweet smile.
"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."
The words roll off his tongue with ease as if it's a phrase he's used to saying, and your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
JJ, the most gorgeous boy you've ever known, thinks you're beautiful. You had always considered the thought to be impossible. Miraculous at best, and that wasn't because you doubted your beauty. It was because it never crossed your mind that he had even noticed. It's incredibly corny, but that proves that miracles do happen.
"Get over here and kiss me."
He indulges you, towering over your frame from his spot on the bed and pressing his lips to yours. It's slow and savoury, a full one-eighty from the fast-paced kisses he offered earlier. You moan against his lips and break away.
"Closer, JJ."
"I'm right here, baby," he breathes, nuzzling his nose against your jaw as he etches more kisses into your skin.
"No," you breathe, "closer."
Your legs wrap around his torso, and your heels push his lower half closer to yours. His cock grazes against your core, and your walls clench in anticipation of his future intrusion.
You see the hint of mischief in JJ's gaze as he catches your drift. He grants you one last peck, his hand circling his length. He guides the tip to your dripping entrance and probes you slightly. His eyes move back up to your face as he pushes his way in, and he gets lost in the way your face contorts when he does.
Your hands slide up his arms, looping around the back of his neck for support as he slides completely into you. A trembling mewl escapes your lips at how deliciously he stretches you out.
"So big, J," you whine.
"I know, baby. But you're taking me so well. You know how pretty you look with me inside you?" JJ questions. His hand glides up your thigh and finds your clit, starting to massage it. His hips begin to move and you throw your head back as he ruts into you with a perfect tenderness.
It's perfect. He's perfect, and you decide he should never be anywhere except right here, drowning in you.
"You don't have to hold back, JJ," you speak. "Give in. Fuck me the way you want to."
"No," he says, brushing your statement off, "you deserve this side of me. I wanna do this right."
"I want all of you, J. Don't hold back."
He gives you a once-over, and he commands your wish when he's sure this is what you want. He presses down on the back of one of your thighs and spreads you out to give him more space. His perfect cock ruts into you sharply, knocking the wind out of you.
You don't regret your request for a second because this is the JJ you wanted. Of course, you love his sweet and considerate side, but you hoped to see the side that didn't care what he took from people. The rough, unapologetic attitude that was just so him.
"Fuck, where have you been all my life? This pussy is perfect, so fucking wet for me," he praises.
"Your cock is perfect too, J."
"Yeah?" He taunts. "You gonna be my good girl and cum for me, pretty girl? I know you want to."
You lean up onto your elbows, moaning into JJ's mouth as you capture his lips in a fiery kiss. Your cunt squeezes him harshly, a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum for him.
"Gonna cum. Make me cum, J. Please," you beg.
Your pleading eyes and tight grip on his cock are too much for him, and he snaps. He fucks you hard enough to send you over the edge and then some, unable to get enough of your soaking heat.
"So. Fucking. Good for me," he speaks, punctuating each word with a forceful thrust. He jerks inside you as he finishes on the last one, releasing into the condom.
JJ leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as relief washes over him.
"That was amazing," you grin.
"You're amazing. I've been waiting for this forever, and damn, was it worth it."
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updated jj taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @indigoreccs @laineywilsons @mvybanks
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romanoffs-widow · 7 months
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Sorry for everything
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Sum: Nat takes out her anger on you after a stressful couple of weeks.
Warnings ⚠️ : Shouting, arguing, and split up?
A/N: Thank you very much to @bobisek96 for requesting this fic, I hope it's okay 😭 and tysm to everyone for all the love on my (not actually first) first fic! I appreciate you all sm ❤️
(I promise there is eventual fluff 😅)
Happy reading! 😊
NATASHA POV:
Everyone thinks being an Avenger is so easy. All you gotta do is a couple of fights and interviews, and that's it, right? Wrong. These last couple of weeks have had me exhausted and honestly drained.
Steve and Tony keep arguing about useless crap, Lena accidentally stained the couch with red wine and didn't even tell me, so I sat in it and stained my favourite sweatpants and I've had to do 6 different interviews because Tony had a cold and couldn't do them, and on top of all that, Morgan has clung to me like a magnet since her dad has been sick. I love kids, and I really do, but not when I'm exhausted and keep having nightmares, leaving me sleepless almost every other night.
"Hey Natty," she says with that smile I love so much. I don't know what it is, but even y/n/n can't cheer me up today. Too tired to respond, I just give her a nod. Hopefully, she can see I don't want to talk right now.
I went to change into comfier clothes. I feel a pair of hands wrap around my waist. I shrug her off, getting annoyed. "Are you okay, baby?" I roll my eyes as I put my top over my head. "I'm fine." Maybe now she'll get it? "You know if you don't want to talk to me, just say." She says it with a tone that tips me ove rather edge.
"You know what? Maybe I don't want to talk to you. Maybe all I want to do is lay down in our bed and try my very best to relax! I have had such a hard couple weeks, and all you do is bug me because you're a pathetic childish wench that wants my attention all the time! If you knew what I go through every single day as an Avenger, maybe you'd at least try to understand how hard my job is! So please just shut your whiny mouth up and get out. I don't want to see your face EVER AGAIN!"
Y/N POV:
My vision is beyond blurry as I feel the endless stream of tears rolling down my cheeks. My hands are shaking, and anxiety is sitting heavy on top of my chest. "Alright. O-okay." I get up, and without saying anymore, I grab my backpack and start shoving a bunch of clothing into it. I go into the bathroom and grab my toothbrush, as well as the other necessities that belonged to me.
With my bag and arms full with items, I give the redhead one last look. Her face is still red from all the shouting she did as she stared at the floor, in the same spot she'd been in for a couple of minutes. I give her a small nod, sniffling as I close the door. I am fully aware the whole compound heard all of that, and honestly, they should. I don't deserve to be treated like that.
I'm going to miss this place. The past 9 years of my life have been spent living here, getting to know all of the amazing people within. I had so many memories here, one of the first being when Morgan was born. She had a head full of hair and a smile that looked just like her fathers'.
As I walked out of the tower, I went to the first person I could think of. Wanda Maximoff, my best friend of 5 years. She does live in the compound, but she also owns an apartment on the other side of the city for emergencies. She gave me a spare key when she got it. Thankfully, I'd never used it before, so I'd never seen the interior of the four walls.
Memories, good and bad swirls around in my head, as I twist the bronze key into the lock. It took me an hour to get here, with the bus and all. I get settled in, as I know I'll be staying here for a while. I started getting myself a snack when I heard the door swing open. I look at it to see the red magic I'd come to know very well.
"Y/n/n honey? Are you in here?" As soon as I hear her voice, I run over to her, the flow of tears starting up again. "Oh my god, are you okay? She didn't hurt you, did she?" I shake my head, unable to speak. "Oh, my poor baby. I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner. Everyone is out looking for you. I'd better call Pietro and tell him to tell everyone you're safe."
I just hug her tighter. "E-e-even...?" She looks at me with guilt in her eyes. "We all heard what she said to you, and F.R.I.D.A.Y said that you'd left, so we all went looking for you. None of us have heard from her since." By now, I've soaked her hoodie with my never-ending tears.
"Shhhh, it's okay, you're okay." Wanda whispers as she rubs my back to calm me down.
1 MONTH LATER...
I hear a knock at the door. Wanda only left, and she had her own key, so it definitely wasn't her, and i haven't ordered any packages. Deciding i dont care, I go to open it. I see nothing but a white teddy bear holding an envelope sitting on the welcome mat. There is no sign of anyone being here, as the halls are silent. I pick up the toy and bring it inside, closing the door. I go and put it on the counter, taking the red letter from its paws. It had my first initial on the front.
Our place, 2 pm?
- N xx
I roll my eyes. Even if I was very upset with her, she always knew how to make me smile. I check the clock, seeing it's already 1pm, so I decide to start getting ready.
I step into the shop and immediately see Natasha. As I get closer, I can see that she has bags under her eyes, and I see that her knuckles are all red and sore. She's probably been training to get her mind off us. "Hey," She goes to hug me, and I let her. "Hi." She ordered both our favourite drinks.
"How have you been?" I scoff. "What kind of a question is that? My girlfriend of 9 years kicked me out because she was having a rough couple of weeks and hasn't even bothered talking to me for a whole month, and you think I'm okay?" She looks down with guilt filled eyes. "...no. Sorry."
I sip from my cup. "Are you gonna give me some pathetic excuse as for why you made me leave like that, or what?" She nods her head, and takes a Depp breath.
"What I said was really messed up. I shouldn't have called you any of those rude names or said any of that to you. I was having a hard couple of weeks, and I just wanted some quiet. Which I got. But by all means, that's no excuse to take my anger out on you. I don't know if you even want to talk to me anymore after what I did, and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness or anything remotely close but I really am sorry y/n/n. These past 9 years have meant so much to me, and I don't want them to go down the drain because of my stupid actions."
She pauses for a while. Waiting for me to give her some sort of response. "Thank you. I'm sorry for bothering you so much, but it would be very helpful if you communicated how you feel to me, so I know when you need space. I haven't forgiven you. That's going to take a long time, but if you're willing to work on this, so am I. Okay?" She puts her hand on top of mine. "Okay."
6 MONTHS LATER...
Everything had been going actually quite well with y/n, and I. I've been working on my communication, and she's been helping me to recognise when I feel like I need space. She's moved back into the compound, and as of recently, she's started staying in our room again.
"Hey baby." I forgot how much I love her voice. "Hi malysh. Cuddles?" She nods her head and wraps herself around me on the couch. We quickly get sucked into our newfound favourite show, Greys Anatomy. "Meredith really is gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you!" I say as I give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm nothing compared to McDreamy." I laugh, knowing she loves Derek too much.
"Sorry...for everything." She turns to look at me with her eyebrows furrowed, abandoning our show. "I know. It's okay." She adjusts herself so she can kiss my lips. "I love you." She snuggled back onto me, sucking back into the show.
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beanghostprincess · 2 months
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Rayleigh explains to tiny Shanks and Buggy what Valentine's Day is because Roger won't stop running around the ship saying he doesn't know what to get Rouge as a gift (they've been like this for a long time and they've lost count of how many islands they've visited in such a short time already).
So the man, of course, tells them it's a day in which you give presents or just celebrate your love with the people you care about the most... Mostly in a romantic way, but when they were very little and very close, Shanks and Buggy instantly went "We like each other!!" and ever since they've been giving each other presents for Valentine's Day, even if it's meant to be in just a platonic way.
The thing is-- They grow up together, and of course, they develop feelings for each other that are beyond what friendship. And suddenly Valentine's Day has a new entire meaning. Buggy comes to the conclusion, at the age of 13, that they're too old to be doing this with each other when they should be doing it with their crushes. Which they don't have. Because they're quite literally the only ones of their age on that ship. But whatever- Shanks is devastated. He accepts and goes with the typical "Yeah, of course. Pffft. I'll just save all my romantic ideas for a girl--" but he doesn't want any girl. He wants Buggy. And he has known that for a long time.
So fuck it. He's impulsive and it's dumb and he wants to show Buggy how much he means to him as more than just a friend. At 13, he uses the "I had already bought you a gift before you complained about this" excuse, and at 14 Shanks just says he had forgotten about not doing it. Old habits die hard. But then they're 15, and they're alone and the crew disbanded but at least they're alone together. And Shanks has this constant fear of Buggy leaving him too the way the rest of the crew did, so he doesn't give him anything. He had something planned because of course he had. But he keeps it to himself this once.
What he doesn't know is that Buggy is actually waiting for him to give him something. He's proud and stubborn and he would never admit it, but he regrets complaining about Valentine's Day now that Shanks doesn't want to officially celebrate it with him anymore. He tells himself he doesn't care. He doesn't give a fuck if Shanks doesn't want to give him a stupid present. He doesn't care if Shanks has forgotten about it. But the thought of Shanks celebrating this day with somebody else makes him unable to concentrate for the whole week. He wants to throw up.
But it's killing Shanks. It's eating him alive. So he swears he will confess his love and will give him a proper Valentine's Day gift next year. Next year. He only needs to wait. And Buggy promises to himself that if this happens- That if Shanks gives him something. Anything. Any hint from the universe that Shanks wants to be with him. He'll say yes. They've lost too much for them to then separate again.
Soon enough, Roger dies. Before Valentine's Day and before they can say anything. Before Buggy can fix whatever is wrong with him and his jealousy and rage toward Shanks. Before Shanks can act upon the feelings he's been forever keeping to himself. An 'I love you' rests on the tip of Shanks' tongue while he watches Buggy running away from him, and it stays there for years and years, patiently waiting for the next time they see each other again. Because it's the first thing he'll say to the clown.
But he doesn't save it until they see each other again. No. It's much sooner than he expected and a bit too late, too, to hope for an answer. Shanks loses his arm for the future generation and realizes how fragile life is and how little time he could have left if something went south. So he writes Buggy a letter (that nobody but him would understand because he's not writing precisely with his good hand) and attached to him there's this music box. It seems like a silly present. A dumb, childlike thing that no adult would appreciate. But Buggy grew fond of it when they walked through several stores with Gaban one day, and he didn't have enough money for it so he kept whining about it the whole week. Shanks had... All of his money left. He wanted to buy himself more chocolate, but he guessed a music box was alright too. It would be Buggy's, but since they're always together it would be his too, anyway, right?
They're not together anymore and Shanks can't see Buggy's face when he receives the gift. He can't hear the music box, either. But he guesses it had always been just for Buggy, at the end of the day, so he doesn't care. He just wishes Buggy had responded to it somehow because there's never any sound at the end of the line when he tries to call him and Buggy never responds to his letters either.
To this day, though, the music box rests on one of Buggy's most precious treasure chests that not even Alvida or Cross Guild can come close to, next to a bunch of letters he has carefully kept over the years. Shanks never knows if Buggy receives his gifts, but he keeps sending letters anyway. And Buggy refuses to respond to them, hoping Shanks will keep sending them nevertheless.
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ilikemesometaetaes · 10 months
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•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes
•••> Summary: Some people don’t actually like seeing their exes upset. Do you?
•••> Pairing(s): Hoseok / Female Reader (ft. Choi Yeonjun)
•••> Word Count: 16.57k [Unedited]
•••> Rating: 18+
•••> Tags: eventual smut (in second part) | angst | ExFiancè!Hoseok | ExesToLovers!Hoseok | Boss!Hoseok | Military!Reader | Veteran!Reader
•••> Warnings: angst, cussing, mentioned gunshot wound/forced discharge due to physical handicap, alcohol use, jealousy, unrequited feelings, engagement cancellation, mild toxicity if you know how to read red flags, rejection, arguing, loss of feelings, eventual smut, You know the drill. If you don’t want to read, don’t. If you’re under 18, don’t.
Copyright © 2023 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.
PART ONE -> PART TWO
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His loud guffaw is what drags your attention to him in the first place.
It isn’t his black sequin jacket; it’s not his flame orange hair; it’s not the gold ring that wraps around his pinky.
It’s his god-damned laugh.
He’s standing there with his friends, laughing at something that Jimin has just said, when you notice him.
Your ex-fiancé.
Your fingers clutch a little bit tighter around your flute of champagne as soon as you take Hoseok in. It’s been months since you’ve seen him. An awful, lonely stretch that has been a slow process to use as healing. Despite the time you’ve had, you feel your blood boil the more you stare at his irritatingly handsome face.
Because it isn’t fair. He shouldn’t be smiling all brightly like that. He shouldn’t be happy or joyful or unreservedly calm like he always was. He shouldn’t be the same old Hoseok that you grew to fall in love with at one point in your life.
Is that toxicity you sense? Some red flags in your personality? Meh. Perhaps.
“I promise that it’s not you; it’s me.”
As you stare at the way he raises his glass to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip of his own champagne, you can’t help but remember the phrase. The downpour on your car lightened to make it that much more deafening.
“It’s you?” you ask him. “How in the hell is it you? I’m the one who’s busy. I can make more time for us, Hobi.”
The man in the driver’s seat chuckles dryly and leans forward to place his forehead against the steering wheel, his black hair falling forward with the motion. “But that’s not the problem, Y/N. I don’t want you to make more time for us. You’re doing so well now and I know that you have the promotion in a few months. I can’t get in the way of that.”
You sit back in your chair and stare at him, holding his ring to your chest. It feels so heavy in your grasp that you think it could pierce through the floor of the car and drop to the wet pavement below.
“Hoseok,” Your voice is a broken whisper whilst the tears collect in your eyes, the dread of loss rearing its ugly head to gaze upon you. “You know that you mean more to me than anything I’ve ever known. I can drop everything and I- I can be better. Please,” you beg. “Please don’t do this.”
“But I don’t want to be the reason that you throw your life away. I can’t be that person that just…” He takes a breath and throws his hands up in exasperation. “… accepts others putting themselves down for me. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.”
He starts your car without waiting for your response and your desperate mind pushes you to reach out and grab onto his arm to try and stop him from running away. The rain continues to patter against the roof and windshield.
“I don’t know what you want me to do. This-” you cut yourself off for a moment and look down, searching for the words to say in the reflection of the street light on the shifter. “-it can’t end like this. Tell me what to do to make it right.”
Hoseok clutches the steering wheel tightly and shuts his eyes, exhaling with a low rumble in his chest.
“I’m not the one you should be doing things for, Y/N. You should be making decisions for yourself and doing things because you want to do them- not because I want you to.” He opens his eyes and turns his head away from you to stare out the window.
“I don’t want your world to revolve around me.”
The man you watch lowers his glass to the table that he leans on and continues to listen intently to what Taehyung has to say. You assume the younger one is going on about data and stocks with how serious the conversation became in the short span of a few moments. The smile that was on Hoseok’s face is nowhere to be seen now.
He looks a bit stern from the way he purses his lips and furrows an eyebrow. When it seems that Taehyung says something that boggles his mind, he cuts in to add his piece. He was never one to just be quiet and truly listen, you think spitefully.
“Y/N!”
Petty Officer Blake calls your name, drawing you away from the sight of your ex and back to his uniformed arm slung casually over your shoulders. The weight of his bicep presses the collar of your own uniform into the back of your neck even further and makes for a scratchy sensation that you put up with only because it’s your friend who’s close to you.
“What?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. His gelled hair has fallen into his forehead a little and begun to break uniform regulation, but you don’t bring yourself to care. The formal portion of the evening ended ten minutes ago and no one cares if a few hairs are out of place.
“I get that we’re relaxed now, but you’d kill me for not reminding you. I asked if you submitted the muster report to Ensign Trias.”
You clear your throat and speak confidently despite your inner turmoil, a skill you learned during your grueling weeks at boot camp.
“I did. She’ll be happy to know that we’re all present or accounted for.”
Blake agrees with a grin. “Yes, she will.”
With a final swig, you finish your champagne and place it on the table with thoughts of Hoseok creeping back into your skull. Why is he here?
You know the answer, though. Taehyung and Jungkook obviously invited him. Your shipmates are the reason you’d met Hoseok in the first place. Now that you’re back from your underway at your home port for the first time since early November, they obviously thought to reunite the group for the ship’s New Year’s ball.
Everyone in your group of friends left home, although it was only you, Taehyung, and Jungkook who decided to enlist to leave. The three of you met at boot camp fresh out of high school. Looking back on it, it feels like a lifetime ago.
The three of you are all chiefs now, years and years of service in the military under your belts, and you couldn’t have been happier when you found out that the both of them would be deployed on your ship for the next eight months.
On your first deployment as a young and inexperienced sailor, Taehyung was the only face you recognized amongst the sea of them aboard your ship. His friendship was what made you begin to actually enjoy the military in the first place. Long hours of watch and constant maintenance was draining, so when Taehyung invited you to go to a bar he was familiar with once you pulled into port again, you were all for it.
Hoseok was the first amongst his friends that you’d met. He lived in the local area that you were ported in and you’d instantly grown intrigued by him when you found out he was also from your hometown.
He sipped on bourbon and passionately took part in the conversation alongside Jungkook, who was completing a shore tour at the same base, while you watched him quietly. Being a naturally brave person with military confidence instilled in your psyche, you were the one to speak first when he wasn’t speaking with the others.
“What’s your rate?”
The man looks up from his glass and focuses on you with wide eyes whilst the rest of the table continues the conversation without him. He’s seemingly shocked that you’re speaking to him in the middle of their banter. After a beat of realization, he replies.
“Oh- um. I’m not in the military.”
You lean against the table your group is sitting at and place your chin onto your fist with a small smile. “You’re not? You definitely have the hair.”
He thoughtfully raises his hand up and strokes the side of his head where his fade tapers at his ear. “I’m not. I just like the style.”
“Me too,” you agree, giving him a neutrally flirtatious compliment. When he doesn’t speak again, you turn your eyes back to the center of the tables’ attention and pick up on the conversation between Taehyung, Jungkook, and their friend, Jimin.
“I told you that we were going to be home for St. Patrick’s Day. I planned ahead so that we could go to the Irish Channel and celebrate- and now you’re bailing on us?” Jimin is offended by the fact that Taehyung can’t make it to the holiday party he planned. That much is obvious by the way his eyebrows turn up in disbelief and he holds a hand to his chest.
“ ‘s not my fault,” Taehyung replies through a mouthful of fries. “Blame the powerful men who decide our fate by getting into fights with each other. Blame the system.”
Jimin sighs and puts his face into his hands. “Fucking hell.”
Jungkook grumbles to himself lowly, inaudible. With a snap of his neck, Jimin turns to him. “What?”
The younger one pipes up. “I won’t be able to make it either.”
“Fuck, guys!” Jimin exclaims. “What the hell happened to us? We used to hang out all the time!”
“Life happened, man.” Hoseok butts into the conversation and you turn to him to find that he’s staring down into his empty glass. “We grew up.”
You just stare at him in awe.
“Did you see that dude with the orange hair?” Blake leans into you to whisper the question. You don’t respond even though a quiet voice inside you bites back that Hoseok’s hair is actually flame orange, not just orange. “Someone’s definitely going to say something to him. This is a military event for fuck’s sake.”
Blake bringing up Hoseok’s presence makes the the walls of the large room feel like they’re closing in on you. Like the world is slowly becoming smaller. Blake is so unaware of the torment that you’ve suffered because of the man that’s he’s mentioned, but you can’t explain the heartbreak to him. You can’t explain the life that never was nor the dreams that were lost. Suddenly, it’s difficult for you to breathe.
The chair legs scrape against the floor as you stand from your seat. Consequently, Blake’s arm falls from around your neck and he looks up at you with questioning eyes at the abrupt action.
“Going to the bathroom. I’ll be back,” you mumble. You can’t bring yourself to be confident with the negativity that has filled your mind since you first noticed Hoseok.
“Want me to come with?”
You look at him with furrowed eyebrows when you realize what he’s just asked you and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Kidding! I’m kidding.”
You roll your eyes and push in your chair, readjusting your dress jacket draped over the back so that it doesn’t fall off when you let go of it.
Your steps are slow as you make your way to the corner of the room where the bathrooms are and it’s in your steps that you take the time to think about the past. Are you the one running this time? The more you ponder over your retreat from the room, the more you criticize yourself for doing the same thing that Hoseok did all that time ago.
“Hey Y/N,” A voice stops you in your path. “Ready for the new year?”
Laci.
Stiffly, you turn to face the woman and her lips are pulled into a knowing smile by the time your eyes reach her face.
Smug bitch.
The woman’s smile is patronizing as she regards you, her lengthy blue dress swaying when she leans onto one foot and places a hand on her hip. It fits her well, her curves filling it to perfection in a way that makes her model-esque lifestyle obvious. She doesn’t spend her time sweating over machinery or working out to prepare for fitness tests like you do. Instead, she diets and pays to shape her body in the way that she wants it. To your dismay, she’s utterly perfect.
On the outside.
“Hey there, Laci. You look beautiful as always.” You manage to mumble through the annoyance.
“Oh, thank you!” She smiles even wider. “Took me two hours to make everything look right. The dress is a little itchy, though.”
You try to keep your voice level with hers, a byproduct of your resentment for the woman combined with your need to appear kind. “I love the dress. It suits you.”
“You do? Hobi told me the same when he picked it out, although I don’t know if it’s really my style…”
Ouch.
You hold back the instant desire to clock her in the jaw because you are way above the notion of physically assaulting someone. Despite your handle on your emotions, you still loathe her.
Never, in any of the conversations you’ve had with her, has she missed an opportunity to rub in your face that her and Hoseok are dating. She has a knack for being able to drag your attention to something he’s bought her without saying so at first so that she can give you the time to unknowingly compliment it. It irritates the fuck out of you because she knows she does it. Laci parades her absolute prize of a boyfriend in front of you because she loves knowing that he loves her and not you.
“I see,” you quip, turning to begin leaving so that the conversation can conclude. “Regardless, you look great.”
“Thanks,” She giggles in her flattery, but there’s a touch of poison in the soft sound. “I feel so bad for you. You never get to dress up and look pretty.”
You take the hit and purse your lips at the offending remark. Frankly, you don’t feel confident dressed in anything but your uniform now. It’s second nature since you hardly find the time to be out of it these days.
“Yeah,” You breathe evenly whilst you turn away and begin stepping off. “It’s too bad.”
“Y/N?”
Your feet freeze mid-stride. Your heart skips a beat.
“It’s good to see you.”
Slowly, you turn back to face where Laci stands and immediately hold your breath at the sight before you.
And suddenly, it’s as if he just ended things with you yesterday.
Hoseok stands, his arm sliding around Laci’s waist, as she leans into his touch and presses her nose into the side of his neck with a smile. The sight alone makes you jealous- seeing him with another woman is heartbreaking- and you can’t help the acidic touch of spite beginning to taint your mind. Despite the pain the sight of him causes, you still know in your heart that that should be you.
Your heart pounds woefully for him. You miss him so fucking much and you passionately hate him simultaneously, but his attention on you makes your chest cave in under the weight of it. Meeting his eyes takes you back to the first time he looked at your own, He looks divine- just like he did before.
“Good to see you too, Hoseok.”
You hardly ever called him by his full name when you were together. The only times you did were when the two of you were talking about something serious. After your failed engagement more than three years prior, his nickname never got another chance to leave your lips.
“How’s everything?”
You close your eyes for a moment, taking a cautious breath to calm yourself before you answer his deep voice, and then open them again to find his left eyebrow taking on the ever-familiar position of concern for you.
“It’s alright.” Your voice seems to be lost somewhere in the midst of the pain that accompanies his appearance. “I’m making an announcement later on.”
“Is that so?” Hoseok smiles softly while he allows Laci to thread her fingers into his. “How late is later?”
“In about an hour. Don’t want it to get in the way of the countdown.”
You know the announcement won’t matter to him; it’s too late for him to change his mind. Him and Laci have been together far too long for him to come back to you.
The two of you broke up for a good reason- you’ll give him that. He had every right to feel the way he did because you didn’t give him the time and attention that he needed.
You regret many things in your life. No matter how much you’ve tried to live with no regrets, the blasted things always manage to creep back in and remind you of all the mistakes you’ve made throughout the years. The wrong decision that had bad results, the wrong statement that upset someone, the wrong timing of a poorly delivered joke; many of your past actions bother you in your day-to-day life.
Being unable to keep Jung Hoseok by your side is the worst of them all.
“Well, we definitely look forward to your announcement! I think Hoseok and I are going to see if we can get a few moments to ourselves before the fun starts.”
You nod your head only once as Laci smirks at you. Hoseok offers a tight-lipped smile in place of words and it’s in this moment that you finally accept that your once-fiancé has fully moved on from you. He doesn’t even spare you another glance before he turns around with Laci wedged under his arm.
The tear in your eye fights to come through to the corner, but you lightly snort to choke it back down and prevent yourself from crying at the sight of Hoseok turning his back on you.
Again.
Splash some water on your face. Take a deep breath. Don't let yourself cry over him again. You chant the words in your mind like a mantra as you stare into the mirror in the bathroom. The water you just splashed onto your face drips off of your chin.
The music continues to play in the dining hall without you. Although it's muffled, it serves as the perfect reminder that peoples' lives will continue to go on without you. You lean against the sink even harder with the weight of the statement bearing down on your shoulders.
A sharp knock on the door follows shortly after you lean your face into the sink again, prompting you to whip your head around to face the sound.
"Y/N?" Blake. "You in there?"
"Shit." You curse lowly while you fumble for some paper towels to press against your wet skin. After giving yourself a final glance and concluding that you still look like a wreck, you turn to the door and open it to step out.
"What's up?” You plaster a smile on your face as you greet his curiously concerned blue eyes.
"The captain's looking for you." His eyebrows are furrowed and the worry lines in his forehead are deeper than usual. When you move to step around him and avoid that conversation, he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you. "Are you okay? What's going on?'
You sigh and look away from him to hide your predicament- one he is completely oblivious to. "Nothing. Don’t worry about it."
“Why? There’s obviously something wrong. We agreed we’d be transparent with each other.” He grabs onto your hand and brushes his thumb over the top. “Talk to me.”
Suddenly, you become acutely aware of the presence by the end of the hall where it turns to open up into the dining room. When you glance over Blake’s shoulder towards the movement, you find a flash of flame orange hair. With the revelation of who stands there, watching you, you are propositioned with two options.
On one hand, you could reciprocate Blake’s support and give in to his comfort like you want to, although it would appear much differently to Hoseok who watches from afar and only sees the action of Blake holding your hand. Perception is reality.
On the other hand, you could give your coworker and friend the cold shoulder to display to Hoseok that you are, after all this time, by your lonesome. Being alone like the way he left you would undoubtedly display how big of an emotional crater he left in your soul.
Maybe it would make him feel bad. You want him to feel bad. At least it’d mean he feels something for you.
Although you know you would have gone through with the second option two or three years ago- when you were freshly bitter from the split- your facade has hardened into a detached permanence since then. Time has not done you well.
You look up to Blake then, eyes beaming with the ache of tears that beg to break through, and smile into his concern as carelessly as possible so that you can brush off the emotion. Gently, you take his hand.
“I’m fine. Just a little wound up is all.”
The concern and worry seem to disappear from his face all at once as he smiles a toothy grin. “Announcement making you nervous?”
“Something like that,” you chide.
When you get the chance to peek over your friend’s shoulder again, Hoseok is gone. Damn. It was too easy to get him away. You can't help but wonder if you made the right decision because of how your heart slightly twists at the thought that maybe- just maybe- your ex-fiance still has feelings for you. You brush off the hope just as soon as it arrives.
With a knowing smirk, Blake backs away and swings his arm out in the direction of the ballroom, beckoning you to return to it. "Ladies first."
You giggle and begin walking. "How kind of you, sailor."
"Just trying to look chivalrous, miss." He smiles.
You maintain your smile as you walk back into the ballroom, searching for your captain while you avoid anything relatively close to the shade of orange you know to be somewhere on the dance floor.
You find your captain with a glass in his hand and the executive officer below his other arm, laughing with rosy cheeks at something one of the department heads has just said to the two of them.
"Gentlemen," you address them. "I hope you’ve been having a good evening. Captain? You sent for me?”
“Y/L/N!” He looks at you and smiles, the crinkles by his eyes deepening. “Good to see you! Is everything in order for your announcement?”
You nod as you respond to him. "Yessir. The DJ is ready."
“Good, good. Carry it out whenever you're ready, Chief."
Your eyes are cast to the floor in preparation of what you will be speaking into reality. "Aye aye, sir."
Time begins to slow as you make your trek over to the DJ’s table to ask for the microphone. Your legs struggle to move at a normal speed and your mind is attempting to escape all of the memories that surface. Stretched across a thousand agonizing moments, you prepare to move on from this chapter of your life while it flashes before your very eyes.
Robotically, you nod at the DJ who smiles and then hands you the mic, knowing very well what you are about to tell the crowd of people. It feels like you are separated from your body, but your tight grip on the cool metal grounds you and keeps your feet moving to the podium.
Once you come to a standstill and face the crowd, the DJ follows the movement of you bringing the mic to your mouth and lowers the music when you clear your throat.
"May I have everyone's attention, please?"
As expected from a military event, the people quiet themselves particularly fast.
You struggle to breathe for a moment, the weight of your announcement making the lump of nervousness in your throat that much more burdensome to breathe around. As the silence becomes deafening like the night it did in your car, you swallow thickly.
"I'm..." You trail off for a brief second. "I'm sure you all have heard that I will be making an announcement tonight and some of you were probably wondering what it will be."
The sailors of your division are, without surprise, gathered together in a large group. They cheer from the side of the dance floor closest to the bar. No surprise there.
"Hell yeah, Senior Chief!" You recognize GM2 Green’s chirpy voice and internally cringe at the rank she’s just called you. It’s the next rank above your own. The one you should be promoting to.
LPO Promise yells right after her, his deep voice bellowing amongst the hoots and hollers. "Get that promo, girl!"
Blake stands amongst them and smiles sadly at you because he is the only one, besides your captain and division officer, who knows what your announcement is.
Your smile is bittersweet as you regard your division’s support because- as much as you appreciate how happy they are for you- they are dead wrong.
Because you won't be promoting.
"Well, after a lot of thought and tons of paperwork, I can finally deliver my announcement with no going back."
You wince as you see your division grab onto each other with excitement.
"It’s with a heavy heart and so much appreciation to everyone aboard the Hybe that l inform you all that I have been cleared to be discharged at the beginning of February."
The room goes awfully silent before it erupts with congratulatory applause.
And suddenly, your eyes find the flame orange hair in the sea of natural colors.
Hoseok’s face is expressionless as you look at him. You know that he understands what this means for you and what it would have meant if he had just been a little more patient with your love for your work. If he had just waited three more fucking years, the two of you could have been together the way you both wanted.
But what you want is never in your cards. You don’t want to retire; you don’t want to leave your life in the Navy behind.
You don’t want to be physically handicapped.
But you are.
The gunshot wound you took to your shoulder two years ago still burns into your skin as you clench feeling back into your fingers. With so much nerve damage caused by the hollow point of the 9mm bullet that was shot into your axillary nerve, you lost feeling in your shoulder and a good portion of your arm.
Unfortunately, it served as the perfect basis for the Navy to discharge you. You have barely more than two months to find another occupation to make a living.
The trigger-happy dumbass who decided to load his magazine with the unapproved ammunition had accidentally fired it while you were still on range. Although he claimed that his pistol misfired after the ceasefire was called, you knew the guy- he was dangerous and careless when it came to gun safety and it resulted in your injury. Mishandling a deadly weapon will always have its consequences.
The callous sailor got his court martial and dishonorable discharge way before the Navy first informed you of your forced separation.
Thankfully, the people of your division were there with you during your recovery and supported you through the process of rehabilitating the damage. What none of you knew was that the Navy was tracking your injury the entire time and was able to disqualify you because of your permanent physical handicap. No matter how much you want to cry out that it’s not fair, you wouldn’t be able to kid yourself
Life isn't fair, but the decision to let you go is fair. Besides, how could you protect the people you love when you're broken?
You let your eyes leave Hoseok to look at your division who are already approaching the podium with obvious tears in their eyes. You’re surprised to find that you also have tears of your own- tears that were on the verge because of Hoseok and carried out by losing yet another ones- even if your contribution is minuscule- is what drives you in your career. To be retiring after only ten years of service utterly kills you when you think back on how long you planned to stay in upon your enlistment at such a young age.
The Navy is your life. And now? You have to let it go.
“Thank you to everyone- CO, XO, CMC, the entire crew- for being a great team during my last tour.”
The lump in your throat becomes monstrous as your tears stream down your cheeks and your heart breaks. Your voice is much too wobbly to continue for much longer. “It’s been a pleasure serving with you all and I can’t wait to see what you are able to do to carry out our mission towards a better future.” Sniff. “Bora haewa, sailors. May you continue to gain the respect that you all deserve. I wish you fair winds and following seas.”
With that, you leave the podium and return the mic to the DJ who was obviously moved by your speech and now exhibits shiny eyes that he attempts to blink away. Your own tears continue to run down your skin as you repeatedly wipe them off.
You only have two months to get your new life in line and say goodbye to this one yet you merely want to stand watch on the Hybe one more time and joke around with your division. Simpler times you took for granted are now so precious that you find yourself already missing the life even though you will be in for a few more weeks.
“Chief,” Green cries and throws herself on you as leave the DJ table. “Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving us?”
“Good for you.” You could recognize Isom’s drearily monotone voice anywhere even as you dig your face into Green’s shoulder. “You’re finally getting out of this hellhole.”
“Shut your mouth, Isom.” Promise growls. “We don’t need that negativity here. You can obviously tell this means a lot to her.”
“Whatever.” The man replies, rolling his eyes as he almost painfully reaches his hand out to give your shoulder a few pats. “Congratulations.”
Promise replaces the older sailor’s hand with his own, letting his fingers linger to squeeze in comfort. “Congrats on the retirement, Chief. I’m excited to see where your new life takes you.”
“Thanks guys.” You sniffle. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but it was a pretty quick process that was really difficult for me to keep up with.”
"No, we get it." Promise says. Green emits a small 'mhm' as she raises a hand and wipes her nose with the back of it. You can't bear to go without hugging her small frame even more as you see that the white in her eyes has turned red. Promise faces her. “It’ll be good for her."
“And it's time for her to move on." You hear Blake walk up from behind the two of you as he adds on to what Promise has said and it is then that you decide to release Green so that you can turn to him. He smiles at you softly, expectantly, and you return the expression with one of your own, accompanied with outstretched arms.
The hug with him is warm and caring, a rare occurrence for him to be physically affectionate, yet it is because of the few drinks he's had that he decides to communicate his care for you- for once.
People filter to you as the minutes go by so that they can give you their congratulations or upset speeches about why retirement is the end of the road. As saddening as it is to think about what you should do after retirement with your injury, you don't blame your shipmates for bringing it up because they have no idea why you're retiring. They probably think it's easy for veterans to get jobs since they’re so much younger than you.
Your harsh reality is that there aren't many places who would hire a physically disabled person, as awful as it is. In your harsh reality, your veteran status nor your disability status will help much.
The clock at the head table- conveniently placed by the Officer-In-Charge of the event- reads 23:17. Forty-three minutes until midnight and the new year. Should you enter the new year wasted? Or should you just remain sober and cry it out as you truly lose everything you have ever loved?
Blake ensures that you have at least a few drinks in your system before the clock reads 23:45. He was never one to pass up free booze and neither were you, so why would you change that pattern for the new year?
By the time everyone gets settled together, it’s 23:52. You don’t find Hoseok anywhere- that goes without saying that you can’t seem to find Blake nor your other shipmates either. As far as a New Years’ kiss is from your mind, you hope for the bare minimum of someone you care for at least standing next to you. Anything else would just be the icing on the cake.
You search around for a few minutes, slowly feeling the loneliness you’ve felt for years creep into your skull with such adamant ferocity that you merely stand in the back of the crowd and admit your defeat with a large gulp of the drink in your hand. So far, the alcohol you hold and the one before it have provided you with the buzz that stirs in your veins.
At least you feel something.
Suddenly, you spot Blake in the crowd. It's not surprising that he has a woman under his arm- Blake is incredibly good looking- but it's surprising that the woman who wraps her arm around his waist is none other than Green. The sight makes you wonder when that happened.
23:58. Two minutes until the New Year.
You glance down at the drink in your hand and swirl the contents of it with intentions of downing it once the clock reads 00:00.
"Y/N!”
You look up at Blake and Green with a jump of surprise and realize that they are beckoning you over to them.
"Get over here!' Green yells with a rapidly-curling arm.
You make your way over to them quickly, joy coursing through every cell in your body because of the people you care about. It's a small thing that brings you happiness- simply being around your loved ones. When you come to stand next to Blake, you take a look at the clock again.
23:59.
Blake holds Green tighter to his side. You simply hold your drink a little tighter between your fingers.
The sailors of the Hybe begin chanting when it hits the thirty-second mark. In comfortable delight next to the two people who hold most of your heart, you chant with them and look around at the cheering crowd in utter enjoyment.
At six seconds, your voice dies before you can make any more sound. You can't seem to find any air to take into your lungs as you spot orange hair and brown eyes that hold rays of sunlight within them.
He smiles down at her with the light of a thousand glowing stars as she cups his jaw and smiles up at him.
“Three!”
The world slows.
“Two!”
His orange hair drapes onto her forehead as they both lean into eachother.
“One!”
He pulls her more tightly to him by her waist and closes his eyes.
“Happy New Year!”
Your heart breaks all over again as they kiss.
The fanfare of the New Year falls on your deaf ears because all you can seem to process is the constant string of deafening words in your head.
That should be me. That should be me. That should be me.
It's hard to know how, but you manage to break away from Blake and Green, who kiss with such intensity that you have to gasp for your own air. They’re so preoccupied with each other that they don't see the tears in your eyes.
The look on Hoseok’s face was all too familiar. It brings back distant memories you thought you had buried as you gulp down the last of your drink and make a beeline for the door. You need to leave before you make a fool out of yourself.
It's not specifically the kiss that is burned into your skull. The kiss stirs your envy and jealousy in a way that you are used to because of Laci's constant jabs. It stings, but you are familiar with it.
The thing you are not particularly familiar with is the sensation that came before the kiss. This is the sensation that forces you to leave the party through the closest exit.
The feeling is one of acceptance, although you're not sure of how far-reaching the damage is. It's heartbreak and it's happiness all in one emotion yet you cannot place a word on it at all because you've never quite felt it in the volume that you feel it now.
You're heartbroken because you mourn what you've lost with Jung Hoseok. You weep for what could have been yet never was and never will be.
And the never will be is also what you are happy about.
You are happy that the world will continue to be blessed by his smile of ardor. Even though the smile on his lips and the wonderful shine in his eyes are no longer meant for you, it's the fact that he will continue to give it to someone who has truly made him feel the way he used to make you feel. It's because of your never will be that Jung Hoseok has been given what you were too blind to give up- everything.
The look that Hoseok gave Laci is one that would make even a stranger proud of the beautiful things that he has accomplished. The smile of adoration and love is a look you know all too well. It's as familiar as it is heartbreaking.
You remember when he used to look at you like that.
Snow falls steadily on the sidewalk as you order an Uber. You receive a text from Blake that asks where you are, yet you can only seem to ask him to grab your dress jacket as a response.
Don't forget we have drills on Monday is all he says and you huff out a shaky breath of gratitude for how well he knows you. He knows that you need space and you manage to elicit a small smile past your cascading tears.
The Uber arrives soon after you give up on looking at your phone and when you manage to slide into the backseat of it, slightly buzzed, your body slumps into the seat all the way back to your apartment because of how physically and emotionally drained you feel.
You spend the rest of the night in your room, reminiscing about your time with Hoseok.
He asked for you to be his girlfriend in the parking lot that was in front of your ship. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon of the bay it was ported in. After two months underway, he was there to greet you for family day.
Like any gentleman, he showed up with flowers and charmed himself straight into your heart after so many hangouts with you and the rest of the crew. It was the first time you saw that look in his eyes as he tilted his head down to you.
And right there, in front of so many of your shipmates, he kissed you for the first time.
Taehyung and Jungkook freaked out like the pair of spazzes they were. Hoseok flicked them off behind your back as you wrapped your arms around him, but it wasn’t noticed by you until hours later when Jungkook finally sent the pictures of your first kiss with Hoseok to you.
And you were in love with him then. Just as you are now.
If you really love him, though, you think it’s about time you finally let him go.
You lie in your bed, letting tears stream down to soak into your pillow, and delete the photo- along with all of the others that chronicled your happy days as Hoseok’s.
The number of photos and videos came out to be 1,753.
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It's much too difficult to ignore Namjoon’s voice as he speaks to Taehyung. The bass of it carries a lot farther than the falsetto of Jimin's, who stands with them.
"Yeah, I heard it was so bad that he had to change his locks."
"Oh, no way!" Jimin seems to laugh out of pure astonishment. "She's that crazy?"
Namjoon sips on his drink. “Apparently so.”
For a moment, they’re silent. You take this opportunity to rejoin the group and walk up slowly.
“Does Y/N know?” Jungkook asks.
You quirk your eyebrow when you get to them. “Know what?”
The five men turn to stare at you in surprise and you can see that the youngest one winces.
“Uh…” Jimin trails off, lost. “The…”
None of the men seem to be able to speak. You have obviously reentered the conversation at a bad time.
Finally, once he’s done looking at the others in disdain, Yoongi scoffs. “It’s not like he wants to keep it a secret. She’s our friend too.”
“What’s going on?” You set your drink on the table and put a hand on your hip expectantly.
Yoongi grabs onto your shoulder. “Laci cheated on Hobi.”
Suddenly, you forget about the comedic way the men look like deer caught in headlights. Instead, your blood boils.
“What?”
There’s no happiness gained from the news; you feel no satisfaction from learning of the reason behind the end to his relationship. Hoseok, as much as it was his decision to end things between the two of you, deserves nothing but the best that this world has to give. Knowing that he’s been wronged like this just makes you angry- and feeling a little protective.
“Yeah,” Taehyung has the nerve to laugh. "Turns out she was banging her manager to get that bonus she was gloating about."
"You missed a golden opportunity." Jungkook coughs and brings his soda to his lips to poorly cover up the statement. Taehyung looks at him crookedly, confused, and Jungkook sighs. “She was boning her manager to get that bon-”
Yoongi’s fingers grip a little more tightly into your skin when he cuts off the younger man. "I find this topic hardly appropriate for a retirement party. I just wanted her to know."
Despite his statement, you turn to him. "Is he alright? When did he find out?"
Namjoon speaks up instead, running a hand through his hair. "He was sulking around and hardly came out of his room for a few days. He finally told me about it the day before yesterday."
In the beat of silence that follows the revelation, you worry for Jung Hoseok. Misplaced guilt makes itself known in the feeling of your stomach dropping because you become acutely aware that all of his friends are here, at your retirement party, with you.
"But is he alright?" You repeat the unanswered question adamantly.
A brief pause passes between you and the group of men. No one seems to have the desire to answer you.
"He's a mess," Yoongi sighs, finally. "-but he'll be fine. You know he doesn't like it when we hover."
The older man is right. For as long as you've known him, Hoseok always prefers to do the comforting rather than be comforted. He isn’t a reserved man, but he is less likely to seek help from others because he has his own, private healing system.
Jungkook chuckles. "You should've seen the groupchat when we were talking about the party."
Shit.
You have to take a seat as you process what Jungkook has just said.
Hoseok has just been cheated on; he just broke up with his girlfriend; all of his friends are here at your party while he does whatever he does and handles his issues alone. You didn’t even have the courage to invite him.
The thought makes you feel awful.
“That’s enough.” Yoongi says. “We’re here to celebrate Y/N’s retirement. Let’s not bring up her ex-fiancé anymore, yeah?”
Quietly, the group murmurs in agreement and proceeds to talk about whatever it is they talk about as you turn around to greet more of your former shipmates. The party continues in full.
But you can't seem to get the thoughts of Hoseok out of your head.
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“We’re really glad you decided to join us. Your résumé is really impressive!” The woman, Kyla, walks just slightly in front of you as she speaks.
You smile and shift the box of your belongings in your arms. “Thanks! It was super tough trying to find work around here.”
She turns her head slightly so that you can see the smile on her face. “Oh, I get it. The job search is increasingly difficult these days. I’m glad we found you!”
The workspace is surprisingly homey when you take a look around. At the nineteenth floor of the office building, you expected cubicles and white walls, however, you’re surprised to find that each employee has their own office- granted, they’re a bit small- and each space is decorated differently.
“Employees are free to decorate their spaces as they deem fit. We, at BigHit, believe artistic freedom encourages more efficient production.” Kyla stops in front of an empty office and turns to you. “You are welcome to do the same, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” You can’t help but breathe out the graciousness a little, thankful for the opportunity that has been afforded to you. Although you’re on a military pension due to your honorable discharge, it’s not nearly enough to support a comfortable lifestyle, and you’re still so young- you can’t not work. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all we ask for.” Kyla gestures her well-manicured fingers into your space. “Please, make yourself at home. The chief supervisor of this floor will come by to help you settle in soon.”
You squeeze in through the door with your box in hand and misty eyes. After two months of job-searching and extremely strict budgeting, you finally have a job. Not only will you be able to relax in your apartment now, but you will be able to support yourself even more than you did before. Life is finally getting better.
Your new office is quite small; it seems to be a standard eight-by-ten workspace with a desk perpendicular to the far-right wall, a company-provided desktop computer, and a set of drawers against the wall that sit next to the desk. Although it’s not much, you begin picturing all of the ways you can make it your own because, after all, you’re extremely lucky to have landed the job in the first place.
“Again, Kyla,” You set your box down onto the desk and turn to her. “Thank you.”
She laughs lightly and begins walking towards the door. “I’m just here to make sure you’re happy and content. The chief supervisor is actually the one who signed off your application, so save all that for him. Let me know if you need anything- anything at all- and I’ll be here to work it out.”
You nod and reach into your box to start taking your things out. “Sounds good.”
“Oh, and Y/N?” Kyla pauses, halfway out the door, and turns to you again. You stop to look at her with questioning eyes.
“Thank you for your service.”
You’ve heard the phrase hundreds of times before, yet it still sends you into a fit of confusion when someone hits you with it.
Did you really serve? Was your time fulfilling maintenance requests and working on heavy machinery enough to be considered service to your country?
Are you enough?
“Uh,” You scramble for the right words awkwardly. “Th-thank you for your support.”
Kyla nods, smiles, and then leaves with the closing of your door.
Twenty minutes and an empty cardboard box later, you sit in front of your new desktop monitor when there’s a knock on your door. It’s a familiar cadence that taps to a specific beat, yet you can’t place where you know it from.
“Come in!” You voice at a volume a little less than a yell. There’s a beat of hesitation before the knob turns.
Ever so slowly, the door opens.
Flame orange hair.
Mocha brown eyes.
Jung fucking Hoseok.
Your heart drops to the floor as your ex-fiancé stands in the doorway. Suddenly, all of the air in the room seems to be vacuumed out. He’s stolen it, rendering your ability to breathe practically nonexistent.
“H-Hoseok?” You stutter his name. “W-what’re you-”
“I’m- uh-” He seems to be just as dismayed as you, eyebrows furrowing incredibly hard whilst he looks at the floor. “I’m the Chief Supervisor.”
Dumbly, you continue to stare at him in silence, at a loss for words. He speaks again. “I see you’ve- er- settled in well.”
His brown eyes are inquisitive and shocked, although you don’t understand why.
If anything, you should be the one who’s surprised seeing as he’s apparently the one who hired you. He saw your name on the application- allegedly, he’s the one who approved it- so why does it look like he walked into the wrong office?
“Kyla helped me out.” You struggle to make small talk with him, scurrying for development yet becoming unsure of how to go about conversing with him.
You eye Hoseok critically, wondering why he’s being so awkward, and note the way his natural brown hair begins to push the orange out to reveal itself at its roots in an almost natural way. It gives away that he’s gotten his hair done since the last time you saw him on New Years Eve.
His eyes look tired because of the bags under them, something you’re not used to, yet he seems to have gained the smallest bit of mass around his shoulders and arms. Despite what he’s gone through in the last few months, he looks good.
And as much as you’d love to hate him, you still can’t.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Hoseok’s voice is almost a whisper, yet you can still hear the slight edge of bass that you used to love so much. Almost delicately, he steps into your office and you eye when he places his hand on the door to close it. Then, he decides against it, dropping his arm back to his side while he takes another step to stand in front of your desk. “Were you able to access your profile yet?
It’s hard to speak past the lump in your throat as you look up at him from your chair. “Not yet, no.”
“Wait,” He shifts his weight to the other foot and crosses his arms over his chest almost as if he’s trying to protect himself. His body language practically screams that he’s uneasy. “Did Kyla give you your log-in information yet?”
“She didn’t,” you answer him.
He toes the ground awkwardly. “Oh…”
In the tiny and quiet space of your office, the two of you go silent. Neither one of you speak for a few seconds.
Hesitantly, Hoseok grabs the back of the chair in front of your desk and moves to sit.
“So…” His voice is uneven. His eyes meet yours and there is something in them that throws you off. “How’ve you been?”
The tension in the question is palpable, although you can’t seem to place what kind of tension it is. Is it guilt? Obligation?
Sexual?
Suddenly, you can feel his hands skating up your thighs and coming to rest at your waist. His arms pulling you close to his warm body. Loving kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your lips.
The ghost of his touch hits you like a truck as he sits there and expects an answer from you. You have to shudder out a breath to collect yourself from the notion of missing his touch and love.
“I’ve been better,” you clear your throat. “But I’ve been worse.”
Hoseok’s smile is small and courteous, although, it is easy to see that something has changed him since the last time you saw him smile. His smile was blinding and beautiful when you saw him on New Years, but now? The light that contested the sun is nowhere to be seen.
He looks down at the floor again, breaking the line of tension and allowing you space to breathe. “I guess that’s… good.”
It’s easy to see that he’s lost. His lack of confidence is horribly obvious in the face of your judgement. The room goes quiet again and you can hear your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears because of how much it quickens from the situation.
“So you’re the one who hired me?” You place your hands onto your desk and lean into the question.
Hoseok raises his hand to the back of his neck and rubs sheepishly. “Oh- uh- yeah. I did.”
“Why?”
It’s a million-dollar question. One that has a simple answer. It could be dealt with professionally and truthfully with the way Kyla explained it earlier. He could take care of it smoothly and cleanly and move on with your professional relationship. But you don’t want him to.
Because, after all this time, you realize-
You still hope that he will come back to you.
The possibility that he hired you because he still cares about you lingers in the back of your mind. Even if he still cares about you as a friend, you cling to that hope like a koala clings to a tree. Jung Hoseok is a good person and you want him in your life in any way that you can have him.
Despite the fact that he gave up on you.
“I saw your application,” he says. “You’re more than qualified for this job.”
The statement does not satisfy your hopeful thoughts; instead of the answer you wanted, you got the answer that you needed.
It’s enough for you to see a future with Hoseok in it, but it’s not enough for a future that you thought about once upon a time. It’s also enough for you to know that he is no longer in love with you. That ship sailed long before you were forced to accept it.
Now that you have gotten to speak to him cordially and seen that there is nothing but friendly attitude, you can finally put any remaining reservations you had for him down into the grave of who you used to be.
“Well,” you say after a moment, clearing your throat of emotion. “Thank you for the opportunity. It was really hard to find a job.”
“It’ll be nice to have you around.” He smiles the smallest of smiles.
And in his eyes, you see the beginning rays of a sunrise.
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“So, Y/N!”
Yeonjun yells a little over the music of the bar. You look at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“What brought you to BigHit?”
You set your glass on the table and turn your body to face him while the others continue to eat their food.
“I actually stumbled across it on Indeed! I saw they were hiring a technician and I needed a job really bad so I applied.”
He places his cheek on his hand and nods while you speak. When you give him the straightforward answer, he leans in a little. “Do you like it here so far?”
“It’s very nice.” You smile genuinely even though you’ve heard the question hundreds of times in the last four days. “It’s a huge culture shock.”
RaKeisha turns her head to look at you. “Oh yeah! You did tell me that you used to be in the military! I can’t imagine how much more lax it is.”
“Loads.” You laugh.
RaKeisha’s words seem to incite curiosity in Yeonjun.
“Oh?” He asks. “You were in the military?”
You nod and pick up your drink. “For ten years.”
The man hardly misses a beat before he says, “Military women are pretty admirable.”
The table of your new coworkers goes silent for a split second before erupting into a chorus of ohhhhhhh’s that make you duck your head in embarrassment.
“Christ.” You mutter and smile bashfully, blushing into your cup before taking another sip.
Another one of your coworkers, Soobin, claps a hand onto Yeonjun’s shoulder. “My man!”
As the dinner continues, you think more and more about the man who sits at the other end of the table. He casts you glances every now and then with the slightest of grins on his lips. He’s a little cute.
His blonde hair shines under the low light and his eyes are borderline flirtatious. You note the way his full lips twitch just slightly every time you make eye contact with him. He’s young- younger than you by a few years, you think- but he still carries himself like a man. Although his eyes are not full of sunshine, they are full of potential.
You like potential.
After twenty minutes of the back and forth, you finally smile back at him.
A chair scrapes loudly and the sound of cutlery clattering on the table distracts you from the moment. Everyone turns their heads towards the interruption.
Hoseok walks away briskly in his gray suit, however, you see a slight sway to his step that causes his path to become partially diagonal as he makes his way towards the restroom. It makes it obvious that he has begun to feel the alcohol that he’s been drinking.
He doesn’t turn around once.
RaKeisha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and leans in to whisper to you. “What was that about? Is he going to throw up or something?”
You brush off the strange action. It isn’t your business to meddle in his affairs anymore. To maintain the professionalism he set when he first came to talk to you, you shrug in response to your coworkers question.
“I don’t know. Something.”
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"♨️Keep your clothes warm♨️"
The caption on your screen is short as you stare at the photos you’ve come across.
You lie in your bed and hold your phone while you lay on your side, scrolling through Hoseok’s instagram page in deep thought. Only recently did the two of you begin following each other again.
In the photo collection that is accompanied by the caption, he wore a Louis Vuitton scarf and a brown skull cap that concealed his eyes. He posed in an elevator where he used a certain filter that caused a fish-eye effect from the floor of it. You can’t help the small smile at how dorky he looks in each of the photos.
He’s just as dorky as you remember.
Yeonjun
iMessage
The notification slides down from the top of your screen and you quickly click it to get yourself out of the mild stalking you’re doing.
Fancy some more ice cream?
You smile at the message and then look at the time on your phone. It reads 11:24.
Kinda late to be getting ice cream, don’t you think?
His response bubble pops up almost immediately after your message is delivered.
We went out at like
2 am last time
You scoff and tap away at your phone.
We didn’t have work the next morning lol
Yeonjun replies quickly.
So? We won’t be long. I’ll pick you up in 20 mins
You roll your eyes at him, wondering how he manages to be so cute yet so annoying. Still, you get up and put on some shorts and a t-shirt.
Your adventures with Yeonjun have become normal in the last month or so. Even though he is increasingly flirtatious with you, he likes to keep what you do together private. No one at work knows of how the first team dinner kicked off a potential situationship with the man. It’s a little exhilarating. It makes you feel younger.
You’d like to think it’s a little game; there is obvious tension between him and you, but you are not going to be the one to make the first move, given your history, and, apparently, neither is he. Whoever gives in first? Well…
You’ll get to that part when you get there.
You also find that it is much too difficult to ignore the fact that you are afraid of what Hoseok would think of you finally getting into another relationship after all these years. Even as you walk out of your door and take the elevator to meet Yeonjun in the lobby, you quickly remedy the thought with a correction- you are afraid of what your Chief Supervisor would think of two of his employees getting into a relationship.
“There she is.” Yeonjun stands by the door and smiles at you, raising his hand to offer you the smallest of waves.
You smile back. “Here I am.”
The two of you head to his car in the warm spring night, giggling like teenagers when you resume your efforts of trying to trip each other. You finally get into the car with slight tears in your eyes from how hard you were laughing when his face was graced with a look of shock after actually stumbling.
You can feel the chemistry as he drives. You feel the attraction. He is undoubtedly handsome as he props an arm up on the steering wheel and hums along with the song playing on his stereo. If all of his flirtations are evidence of it, you think that he just might have feelings for you.
Maybe you can develop some for him too.
Rita’s stares back at you as the two of you pull up to the establishment. A short line of people stand in front of the window where a young girl serves her customers. She looks like she’s still in high school. You glance down and unbuckle your seatbelt as the brief thought of I remember being that young skates across your mind.
Everything is routine at this point; Yeonjun waits at the front of his car for you, you smile at him and he smiles at you excitedly- ‘gosh, it’s really nice to be doing this with you’- and you walk up to the line together. The place is always busier on Friday nights.
But then a wrench is thrown into your routine.
Yeonjun’s arm encircles your waist when the two of you stop at the back of the line. There’s hesitation in the way he does it. You can feel it in the way his fingers just barely feather against your hip, pull away, and then press completely down so that they can fully hold you.
It’s impossible to stop your head from looking up at him in surprise. Although it’s not the reaction you think he wanted you to have, you try to play it off by arching an eyebrow at him.
“Getting a little brave, are we?” You tease.
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
His response is smooth and quick. The way he lowered his voice to say it makes your heart lurch in your chest and your breathing falter for just a moment. How exciting.
Countless customers are served and, before you know it, you’re standing at the front and ordering alongside Yeonjun. A brief argument about who will pay and you begrudgingly letting him hand over his card later, you leave the window with him stuck to your side.
As you wait for your orders, he keeps his arm around your waist. It’s almost instinct for you to place your hand to his stomach because of how close you are to him. You can’t let him be the only one that proceeds forward now that he’s made a move. Another boundary has been passed and it’s your turn to meet the new one.
Yeonjun’s heart beats against your fingertips, strongly and surely pulsing below his skin. He’s warm and comfortable in your embrace. Being so close to him, so cozy, has you feeling a type of excitement that you haven’t felt since…
Hoseok.
The thought of him turns you cold instantly. You don’t have the slightest clue as to why it feels like his name breaks you out of a stupor- what about your current situation makes you stupid?
When the young girl calls Yeonjun’s name for the order, you detach from him quickly. For whatever reason, you can’t stay near him after thinking about your ex. It feels wrong.
You know that the sensation of being with Yeonjun opens you up to a potential relationship with him- if nothing else, a friend with benefits situation that can take care of your needs- so why doesn’t it feel right?
Even as Yeonjun looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, confused with why you’re rushing away from him, you wince- a confirmation that something is up. You’ve never been one to conceal your emotions well- you faced hell for it during your time in the military.
When you walk back over to him with your orders in hand, he still has the same look of perplexity on his face.
“You okay?” He asks.
You were expecting the question. It doesn't make answering it any easier, though.
"I..." You trail. "I don't know."
His eyes get a little wide and he clasps his hands together nervously. "D-did I... Did I make you uncomfortable?"
Quickly, you rush to comfort his worries. "No no, you didn't." You take a breath to try calming yourself so that you can organize your raging thoughts. "I'm just... thinking about some things."
"Some... things..." Yeonjun echoes what you've just said with puzzlement. Enough time has passed since you were served that his order of mint chocolate ice cream begins to melt just slightly. "Are they things I should be worried about?"
A burst of courage suddenly hits you. Without worrying any more about it, you grab his free hand and pull him away from the crowded area so that you can gain some privacy with the conversation.. "Yeonjun? I'm going to be honest with you."
"Okay..." He’s visibly confused as he raises his ice cream to his lips and licks up some of the dripping cream.
"But first," You say, taking a breath. It’s now or never.
“I need you to kiss me.”
Even as you say the words, you’re surprised that you actually say them aloud. The look of shock on his face is replicated with your own because neither of you were expecting to hear it.
“W-what?”
“Please,” you rush. “Just kiss me.”
“Y/N… not that I don’t want to,” You think he looks mildly horrified by your statement as he sits on the curb. “But why?”
“Because I-” You cut yourself off and go to sit down beside him, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say and panicking a little when no words come out. “- because-”
The sound of stuttering brings back the concerned look on his face. Your mild freak out has obviously made him uneasy.
“Hey,” He leans forward and grabs ahold of your hand in his. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me now, okay? I’m just not sure I want our first kiss to be something that you need. I want you to want it.”
Yeonjun’s words stop your blazing path of courage in its spot. Do you want to kiss him?
You’ll give it to him; Yeonjun is hot. His blonde hair falls over beautifully brown eyes and frames his face when it stops right at his cheekbones. You think he looks like he could be in a movie when he slicks his hair back for work.
His lips are kissable. They’re full and plump and so pink as he stands and stares at you in expectation. No matter how much you can see the possibility of kissing him in your head, though, you’re left wondering- do you want that possibility to become a reality?
It could possibly remove you of the leftover feelings you have for Hoseok. You know that people get into relationships to get over old ones everyday; are you the type of person who needs a new guy to move on?
On the other end of the spectrum, kissing him could prove to you that you haven’t truly moved on from Hoseok.
Desperately, you want to find out, so- yes- you want to kiss him.
“Yeonjun,”
You whisper his name and place your hand over his. His fingers dig into your skin lightly and you scoot closer to him to remove the extra space. When he looks down at you headily, you press your chest to his. “I want you to kiss me.”
His free hand is slow to move. It skates up your side and gently cups your jaw to accompany his face as he leans in.
“Are you sure?”
His question is whispered mere inches away from your lips. Within the few moments he used to lean in, you started holding your breath. You don’t know why, though. Are you excited? Or nervous?
Rather than think about it any longer, you bring back your potent burst of intrepidity.
You barely get the ‘I’m sure’ out before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and closing the remaining distance.
Yeonjun's lips are soft as they smash up against yours and you have to sigh at the sensation. He’s warm, embrace tight and secure, as he pulls you against him, and his breath tastes like mint chocolate. Although you don’t particularly favor his flavor of ice cream, it tastes wonderful when he slips his tongue onto the edge of your bottom lip to lave against it.
Yeonjun lets his hand on your face drop to your bent knee and squeezes it gently while he moves his lips against yours. Your heart rate picks up and your spine tingles with excitement because it's everything you’ve ever wanted in a first kiss with someone.
But that's just what it is- a kiss with someone.
Your body reacts naturally to having intimate, physical contact with a human being, but you realize that butterflies don't fill your stomach. Your thighs clench together with lust, but there is no passion. The possibilities of a future with this man are hardly there as he lowly grunts.
In this moment of time, where you share your breaths with someone who isn’t Jung Hoseok, you can’t help but feel like it is the most unnatural thing in the universe.
No one can make you feel the same and, because you kissed Yeonjun, you know for sure now- you're still not over Hoseok.
In your study of the kiss, you fail to reciprocate his lips' movements and go still. He must notice that your fervor is gone because his rhythm against you drastically slows.
Deliberately but surely, Yeonjun pulls away with a satisfied exhale on his lips and his eyes fluttering open. You can tell from the way he looks at you dreamily that he felt a lot more in the kiss than you did.
As you part your lips to take a breath, you feel how well-kissed they are. They tingle, and remnants of mint chocolate still sit on your lips when you lick them. Damn, he's a pretty good kisser. It’s shallow to think it, but you figure it’s your mind’s way of trying to soothe yourself.
"So," he whispers. You look at him with your hands still around his neck, unsure of how to handle the revelation. "I'm not the one, huh?"
The question burns your chest and makes you feel so guilty that you let your lips part to take an exhale of shocked shame. It’s so heavy and cumbersome that your heart breaks for him that very moment.
You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes while you try to sort out your thoughts.
“Yeonjun…” You hesitate again. It’s becoming more difficult to speak. “I…”
He pulls away to put his hand back on your cheek and thumb over your cheekbone.
“Is there someone else?”
You wince sheepishly. "Not exactly. It's... It's complicated."
Yeonjun chuckles at your words and slowly relaxes his hold on you. "I see. So it's like that."
"It is." You stiffly nod to confirm his thoughts.
The man who sits in front of you has a disheartened smile on his lips. The look tears you apart because the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. As much as you feel bad for him, though, you know that you can’t delay the inevitable.
"Thank you."
Yeonjun expresses his gratefulness lowly and removes his arm from around you so that he can lean away and pick up his abandoned ice cream. Guilt and confusion still prevent you from doing the same.
"For what?" you ask.
Thoughtfully, he chews on his ice cream and then looks at you with a click of his tongue.
"For being honest with me." His smile turns crooked as he regards you. "It saved me from a lot of hurt."
His statement wasn't meant to make you feel guilty you don't think- Yeonjun doesn't seem like the petty type- yet you feel the ugliness of the sensation pressing on your chest like a truck. It makes the task of breathing just that much harder.
"Yeonjun, I'm-"
"Don't apologize." He cuts you off and places a hand on your shoulder.
"But, Yeonjun-"
"No ‘buts’, Y/N. I’m already so lucky that you even gave me a chance."
Suddenly, you look at him, feeling even more horrible because the compliment manages to actually flatter you. He’s too kind for his own good.
“Oh, come on, Jun. It’s not all that.”
Yeonjun smiles and looks at the ground with a blush on his cheeks.
“It is, though,” he says. “All of us at the office know how amazing you are. Soobin, Chanyeol, Mr. Jung-” You choke and splutter in shock from the unexpected name. With a quirked and worried eyebrow, he trails off. “-Mark… Y/N, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You clear your throat and pump your fist to your chest a few times to try assisting your struggle. “Just choked on my spit a little.”
“O… kay…” He shakes his head and continues. “As I was saying, all the guys think you’re an amazing woman. They talk about you all the time.”
“Even Hoseok?”
Oh fuck. You were not supposed to fucking say that.
In a panic, your eyes widen as he narrows his at you.
"Is he the one who's making it complicated?"
You’re rushing to mend your slip up before you can even think about it.
“No! No. Uh…” You swallow thickly. “I was just wondering because- uh…” Shit. Think of something. “… because he’s our Chief Supervisor! It’s a little weird. Heh.” Nervously, you laugh, applauding yourself for coming up with something so quick. Once you finish laughing, you search his eyes to see if he’s bought your excuse.
Yeonjun’s face is unmoving for a moment, his eyes still picking you apart like you are an unsolved mystery, and it makes your heart leap away with anxiety.
Then, his face relaxes and he chuckles. “Well, yeah. Even Mr. Jung talks about you.”
You can’t press any further into the topic of your ex because it would allow Yeonjun to see right through your lie.
“That’s so weird,” you say instead. You need to make the conversation general again. “All of you talk about me?”
“Yep.” He struggles to answer you past his new mouthful of ice cream. “Ever since they saw me flirting with you at that team dinner.”
“Oh, good god.” You accidentally snort as you cover your face with your hand. “It’s been that long?”
Again, he takes a mouthful. “Mhm. ‘ou should sh-ee how much Chan-eol and Mish’ter Jung tal’ abou- ‘ou.” He swallows the melted dessert. “They’re like teenagers in high school.”
“What do they say?”
You ask the question with curiosity and hope bubbling up in your chest like fragile butterflies that have been blown away countless times before. They shudder under the weight of the pressure that the memories cause. It’s hard to forget what has happened to them over the years.
“Well, they talk about your work ethic a lot. And how you look extra beautiful when you’re working hard.”
The comment shocks you. You were prepared to hear something about your physical appearance, so when you hear Yeonjun point out something that’s not exactly physical- as you expected from a group of men- you become pleasantly surprised.
“Really?”
“You get this look on your face when you focus,” he says thoughtfully. “Your eyebrows kinda come together and everything. It’s really pretty.”
You become flushed and duck your head to begin eating your own dessert as something to occupy your facial features.
As flustered as you are by Yeonjun’s compliments, you find it’s hard to think about them when you've just been told that Jung Hoseok talks about you like he's not your ex-fiancé.
"Thanks, Jun…"
There’s an uneasy feeling that comes with the knowledge. It’s hard to think with people around you. After a beat, you speak your need.
"Actually… Can you take me home?”
He winces. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"
"You didn't..." you say, stressing the first word so that he knows you are actually uncomfortable. "But I think I'd like to be alone for the rest of the night. It's getting late anyway."
"I understand."
Yeonjun gets up and gives a few brushes to his backside to remove his shorts of any dirt that might be clinging there.
Your ice cream, forgotten, sits on the pavement as you walk back towards the car. Your mind is too muddled to remember it.
Yeonjun frowns, picks it up, and tosses it into the nearby trash can.
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Now that you know to look, you can feel his eyes on you as you pour yourself another cup of coffee in the break room.
It’s your third one today. Wait, is it the fourth? Or fifth? You’d like to think that the reasoning behind you losing count is because of how focused you are on your work, but you know that the coffee has been unnecessary since the second cup. There’s no way around the fact that you’ve lost count because you keep getting cups so that you can see him put his eyes on you.
Since Yeonjun told you of your obvious influence on the men of the office, you’ve been especially watchful of whose eyes linger on you. It’s quite difficult, at first, until you realize that they all manage to avert their gazes just fast enough when you let yourself search.
But his eyes- Hoseok’s- they linger just the slightest bit too long. It’s long enough for you to see that he is looking at you with with a blank expression on his face. You expected curiosity or distaste- hate, even- but his face is almost devoid of any emotion. It’s certainly beginning to throw you off.
It throws you off so much that you pour the coffee until it spills over the sides of your mug.
“Shit,” you mutter and back away from the edge of the counter as it threatens to spill over onto the floor.
“Whoa there,” a familiar voice says from behind you. You turn to look at who you know to be Yeonjun lurking behind you. “What happened here?”
You sigh in frustration and turn to face him after putting the cup down. “Just kind of lost myself for a second and stopped paying attention.”
He smiles softly and reaches past you to grab some of the napkins from the dispenser. “Here, let me help.”
The two of you begin sopping up the spilled coffee and you keep your eyes down while the heat of embarrassment rises on your cheeks. Yeonjun tries to reassure you that what’s happened is nothing, ‘relax, babe,’ yet you can’t help but feel mortified that you made such a slip in front of your Chief Supervisor- in front of your ex-fiancé.
Once the coffee is cleaned, you both turn to toss the napkins in your hands into the trash can.
Thunk!
Yeonjun’s shoulder bumps into your forehead as he turns towards you at the same time that you turn towards him. You immediately shoot your hand up to soothe the dull ache that the force has incited and the man is quick to do the same to comfort you.
“Oh fuck,” He grabs onto your shoulder and leans down to look into your downturned face. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re good.” You wince, rubbing your forehead affectionately. It only takes a brief moment for you to remember that someone else has seen the entire interaction and you quickly jerk your head in the direction of where you know him to be standing.
Brown eyes no longer train your figure. In fact, he has completely left the break room.
His absence leaves a terribly noticeable emptiness in your chest.
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Glasses clink together and beers slightly spill over the edges from the contact. A chorus of cheers accompany the movement.
“Congrats, team! Another fiscal for the books!”
Hoseok smiles brightly as he regards his team, loving every moment of the camaraderie. He lets his eyes sweep over every member who bring their glasses to their lips and watches as each one takes sips and gulps of the golden beverage.
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The man’s attention is drawn to his accounting manager, Yeonjun, as he continues to gulp when everyone else has ceased. As soon as he sees Yeonjun, though, he also sees you egging him on with the most excited of smiles on your face.
Hoseok can’t help but try to distract himself with the bitter taste of the beer.
He hates the idea of the two of you, but rumors about how you began spending time with the younger man started circulating the office ages ago. It's an unavoidable truth now.
He sees the way Yeonjun makes you happy; he noticed the way you became no longer interested in anything to do with himself mere weeks after you first started; Hoseok grew to accept that you no longer loved him long before he, himself, had begun to lose those feelings.
Just one more hug.
You gave the best hugs in his opinion.
Even as you lean into Yeonjun while he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, Hoseok can’t think of anything but being able to wrap his arms around you and pull you to him one more time. You had this habit of giggling whenever he picked a random moment to encase you in his embrace and he used to revel in the feeling of your body vibrating with happiness against his own.
Now, he begs for the sensation.
If he were brave, he’d throw all caution to the wind and march right over to you so that he could feel your hug again. He would press his nose into your neck and crush you to him like he wants whilst everyone else watches their boss crumble below your fingertips.
But he’s not brave. He’s a fucking coward. Hoseok proved the statement to himself when he cancelled his engagement and broke up with you.
He was too much of a coward to handle your lifestyle. He wasn’t brave enough to continue loving you even after the fact because he wasn’t able to charge through the obstacles that came with loving someone in the military. Worst of all, he was too much of a chicken to approach you on the night of the New Years’ party. He was so ashamed that he couldn’t even look at you.
So he dyed his hair flame orange.
Don’t get him wrong- he definitely likes the style- but he wouldn’t do something crazy like that on a normal day and he could definitely think of a few other aesthetic things he could do to his body to make you look at him.
Maybe an eyebrow piercing. Maybe a lip piercing. Hoseok doubled back on those thoughts when he thought about their more permanent- and painful- consequences.
So he ended up dying his hair. He did it so that you’d have to instinctually look at the strong color; so that you’d have to look at him first.
He also got himself a girlfriend. Maybe it would spur the jealousy in you so that he could know for sure if you still cared or not.
To say that his plan worked was the truth- you undoubtedly eyed his hair when he stepped in front of you after Laci approached you- but you didn’t look at him in the way that he wanted you to. In fact, you almost seemed to dote on his relationship like a proud mother. The notion made him frustrated.
Because you were happy for him; he didn’t want you to be happy for him. He’s usually so good at keeping his emotions concealed from those around him, but when he had Laci on his side and your happy eyes driving him further into the ground, he couldn’t help but feel the guilt of a thousand criminals weighing on his psyche.
That’s what he is, anyway. A criminal. He had no right to do what he did to you.
Hoseok is very aware of the pain he caused you on the night that he left you and he is also conscious of the fact that you felt that pain for a very long time from the way Namjoon had explained it. He’d heard through the grape vine that you stopped talking to the guys as often as you used to and that you had been in a handful of reckless situations after the breakup. For crying out loud, you’d apparently gotten fucking shot.
It seems that that stage of your life has long been over, though.
You sit so content now, next to Yeonjun, and you have a beautiful smile on your lips that displays just how much you’ve grown since being his fiancé.
He hates the idea of you with someone else now but he loves the idea of you being content. When you left the New Years’ party, he knew that any future he had with you was over and done with. It didn’t matter that you were retiring- any hope he might have had to maybe be yours again was long gone.
Like he did at many of the team dinners before, Hoseok gets up with jealousy pushing his anger to the visible surface. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor despite the loud commotion of the occupants in the restaurant and he can feel the eyes of his employees on him as he begins stalking angrily away.
The bathroom at this place has become his sanctuary by this point. He finds that he makes an escape to it every time they come here after work. His own little solitude, away from the chaos that you bring into his mind at these dinners, serves as the perfect oasis to calm him down.
Hoseok follows the corridor down to where the single bathroom sits nudged into the center, under a lone ceiling light, and he goes to grab the brass knob but finds it locked.
Sighing heavily, he leans against the wall and tips his head back with his eyes closed in wait. Many things cross his mind now that he's separated himself from the loudness of the team dinner.
Unsure of how much time has gone by, he blames the lengthy silence for how much he jumps when the door finally opens and RaKeisha steps out.
“Mr. Jung?“
He smiles quickly to cover up the unsound state of his mind.
"You took your time,” he jokes.
The woman steps out from the bathroom slowly, unsurely, and he can tell from the way she slightly missteps that the alcohol has begun to affect her equilibrium.
"I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to freshen up a little."
"Don't fret, Kei. I was just messing around. And how many times must I tell you to call me Hoseok at these functions?"
She giggles lightly and begins to walk forward. "At least once more, Mr. Jung."
Suddenly, she stumbles, and he instinctively rushes to catch her.
Hoseok grunts with effort as she spills into his arms heavily. Her hands fly desperately to assist in catching herself and she makes a small sound- a squeak- as she was preparing to meet her end.
He's able to steady her after a few struggle-filled moments and he's thankful that he acted quick enough to keep her from tumbling onto the floor.
“Are you okay?” He asks, looking down at her worriedly.
She chuckles sheepishly with embarrassment.
“I am.”
And then she looks up at him with those eyes.
Somehow, they look like yours.
Rakeisha’s skin complexion is much different from yours. Her eyebrows are shaped differently and her hair isn't the same. Overall, she looks nothing like you.
But the way she looks at him is the way you once did.
Rakeisha's eyes are wide and undeniably beautiful as she looks up at him and he can't help but only see you as her face gets close to his. Your nose, your lips, your eyelashes; you stare up at him as he stares down at you.
“Hoseok,” you whisper in the voice that isn't yours. His heart gallops away in his chest as he scrambles to clear his mind of the illusion. His arms tighten around the body that isn't yours, yet his mind remembers exactly what it was like to hold you so intimately.
And then you lean in. And so does he.
Hoseok kisses the lips that aren't yours as if they are, clutching tightly onto you so that he can pour out everything he feels for you to let you know he wanted to come back to you. He really did. And now, it’s too late.
But then, you gasp. The real you gasps.
He thinks he imagines it as he feels his adrenaline pump in his veins and his heart hammer away in his chest. Maybe you feel it when he tightens his arms around you and pulls you so that your chest presses against his own. He wants you to feel everything.
But then, the illusion is gone and it is RaKeisha who still stands fused to his body. You are not the one he holds like his life depends on it. He’s not holding the one who truly makes him happy.
Hoseok turns to look at your wide, shocked eyes with RaKeisha still chasing after his lips in his arms.
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Looking back, continuing to hang out with Yeonjun whilst knowing that he wanted to be with you may not have been your wisest decision.
The both of you agreed that you did not want anything like that- it's purely friendship at this point- but you can't help the shame that comes with yet another failed attempt at moving on. It's now been almost four years since the separation and you've failed every time you tried again.
But when you see Hoseok storm off to the bathroom yet again, you can't help the small itch at the back of your mind that tells you that it could be because of you.
You want your presence to irritate him. You want him to be bothered by the fact that you're being friendly with another guy. The idea of making Hoseok jealous is much too enticing to resist.
Is this yet another red flag?
Meh.
The likelihood that his jealousy stems from being without you is extremely minuscule- if not nonexistent. It's a lot more likely that he's jealous of you.
He's also failed at getting into another relationship since Laci and it might have torn him up a lot more than he lets on. And, although the two of them are no longer together, you tend to catch yourself comparing yourself to her on occasion.
The dinner continues without your Chief Supervisor and people begin to get antsy because of his absence. A few of the younger employees get a little out of hand and the older ones wonder where he is so that he can instill some professionalism back into the group.
You volunteer to go check on him without thinking twice about it. Must be the beer.
You leave the large room, following Hoseok’s path, and look down at the floor unconsciously so that you can walk straighter. Part of you wonders if he’s actually using the bathroom or if he’s just sitting in there shutting himself away like he does when he’s overcome with emotion.
When you look up, the hallway to the bathroom is dark yet the door to it is lit by the ceiling light right above it like a spotlight. It allows you to see the silhouettes of two people entangled with each other. Immediately, you recognize the shape of Hoseok’s hair draped over whoever he is bound to. It falls just long enough to touch her forehead.
He grunts softly and his arms tighten around whoever he’s with as you get closer, yet your steps are losing the speed they were at before because you realize that your heart is quickly crumbling to the floor.
When you get close enough, you pick out the locks on RaKeisha’s head dangling down. Hoseok holds her to him so tightly that her back is forced to bow her body into him.
You couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving your lips if you tried. The sight punches a hole in your chest and the air from your lungs.
They don’t move at the sound of your breath, yet they detach from each other quickly after another beat of heated kissing and tightening arms. As if they convey ‘I don’t want to let you go.’ Your emotions are a maelstrom in your head and the chaos makes it seem like things move in slow motion.
Hoseok brings his hand up to thumb at the corner of his lips. RaKeisha adjusts her shirt back over her stomach because it had somehow ridden up over her waist while they were kissing.
“Y/N-” she starts, swallowing thickly. “I- uh-”
Even though you know you shouldn’t be, you feel extremely petty and unnaturally jealous of her as you wait for her to spout some nonsense to you. She’s your friend, yet the audacity she had to kiss your ex-fiancé- even though she didn’t know about your history with him at all- temporarily wipes you of common sense.
“Y/N,” Hoseok speaks instead, out of breath and donning an extremely guilty look on his face. It’s too dark to tell, but you’re almost one hundred percent sure that he’d look pale if you could see him properly.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. The pettiness has left a bitter taste on your tongue and a block of ice in place of your heart. It prevents you from putting any effort towards trying to understand the situation because- oh, for fuck’s sake- it’s obvious that it is exactly what it looks like.
“I didn’t ask,” you say. Okay, maybe you drank a bit more than you thought. You’re not usually this short with people.
Hoseok hesitates for a moment while RaKeisha ducks her head and books it. The retreat leaves you alone with him.
“Okay.” His voice is lowered by the uncertainty in it.
You respond almost automatically. “Okay.”
He stands there, head lowered, and purses his lips while you stare at him observantly. He can’t seem to meet your eyes because of how you’re looking at him. Good, you muse. You hope he feels small.
“Well,” You suck in a breath, bring your lips between your teeth, and begin to turn away. “I’m going back to the dinner.”
“Y/N-” He stumbles forward as he reaches out. “Wait.”
“Why the fuck would I wait for you?” It’s too easy for the question to come spilling out and it comes out too fast for you to at least control the way you ask it. You turn to look at him with your anger finally exposed on your face and he recoils and pulls his hand back to his side as if the question has burned him. Red hot rage boils in your blood and controls your words. “You couldn’t wait for me.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it because you know that he has absolutely nothing to say. You are right and he knows it.
Instead of speaking to further the conversation any more, you begin walking away.
His fingers wrap around your arm in a crushing grip and yank you back in such a direction that your back thumps against the wall. A dull ache resounds from where your shoulder blades came into contact with it. The action alone makes you want to fight him because of how he thinks he just has the right to touch you.
“What the fuck, Hoseok!” You hiss and raise your arm to rip it from his grasp.
“Just-” He raises his hands up in surrender, obviously apologetic, and looks away from you. “Just stop-” He grits his teeth, balls his hands into fists, and drops them to his sides. “- stop leaving me.”
“What the hell do you mean?” You bite. It feels good to cuss so much at him. “What else am I supposed to do?”
Angrily, you poke your finger into his chest to accentuate your words. “You left me, asshole.”
He sighs harshly and leans into you with his hand on the wall despite the aggression in your actions. Unconsciously, your hands come up and fold in front of your chest at the new closeness.
“That wasn’t- it wasn’t-” He bares his teeth in frustration and then licks his lips, struggling. “It didn’t end how I wanted it to.”
You scoff in disbelief. “Look, Hoseok. What we had is over with. It has been for years.” It hurts you to say it. “But what still hurts is the fact that you wanted it to end.”
He slams his hand against the wall twice, shaking his head vehemently. “No, no! Not like that! I didn’t wa-”
But you don’t want to hear what he has to say. You’re done with his excuses. “I’m not who I used to be, so don’t give me that.”
He goes quiet again, letting you speak.
“But thank you for everything. Genuinely, thank you. You were the best and worst thing that ever happened to me and I’m grateful that you did what you did because it allowed me to grow.”
He’s incredibly silent as you conclude your interaction. “I’m done with this conversation.”
And you walk away, leaving him in the dark hallway.
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Hey! Thanks for reading! Part two will be out soon!
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likeahorribledream · 3 months
Text
new guy
» CHAPTER TEN: A LITTLE GUIDANCE
CHAPTER NINE
SUMMARY: WHAT LIES AHEAD FOR YOU AND RANSOM?
PAIRING: Ransom x Reader
WORD COUNT: 5.0K
WARNINGS: Fluff, angst. New Girl AU.
REQUEST: Librarian!Reader, she’s shy and insecure about her appearance.
18+. Minors DNI.
ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃
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As soon as the door slams shut Theo and Chase come out of his room, looking around to see if the coast is clear.
"How bad do you think it is?" Theo asks.
"Pretty bad." Chase sighs. "I'm gonna go check up on her." He stops in front of your door and knocks softly. "It's me, princess. Can I come in?" 
You poke your head out from under the covers long enough to tell him to come in and disappear under them again right after. 
"Are you ok?" Your best friend asks as he closes the door behind him and walks over to your bed. 
"No. I'm not." Your voice breaks as more tears rush out of you. 
"What happened?" He sits on the edge of your bed and pushes back the covers to let you breathe. 
"I don't want to talk about it." You keep your back to him, curling up on yourself. 
He reaches over to you and rubs your back. "Where's Ransom?" 
You shrug. "I don't know, I think he- he left." You reach for a pillow and hug it tightly to your chest to try to calm yourself down.
"Want me to stay with you?" He pushes back your hair, away from your face.
"Can I be alone, please?" You whisper, scared that if you speak any louder you're going to break. 
"Of course. If you need me or Theo, just send us a text." Chase leans down and kisses your temple before standing up. "We love you." He adds before leaving. 
Ransom waits for his Über to show up to take him to his destination. 
"If you want a good tip and review I'd recommend not talking unless it's to ask for directions.."
The driver nods as he looks at him through the mirror. "Got it." 
With now time to think about what he wants to say, Ransom writes a few things down on his phone to make sure not to forget anything. He has a lot of questions to ask. 
The driver, as promised, keeps his mouth shut and Ransom gives him 5 stars and a $50 tip just for leaving him alone. 
He gets out of the car and up the few steps that lead to the front door, going in right after knocking. 
It's only been a few months since he has stepped into this house but it feels like it has been years. Things change quickly, he has changed too. Probably more so in the past few months than he has over the past 10 years. 
"I thought we were finally rid of you." Fran sighs as she sees Ransom walking toward her. 
"Fuck off." He says as he walks past her to his grandfather's office. He knocks but this time he waits for permission before walking in. 
"I like the beard and longer hair. It suits you." Harlan says to him as he takes a seat. 
"Mh. Thanks." He runs his fingers through his hair. 
"Not a fan of the bloodshot eyes though." 
Ransom sighs and glances down at the desk before looking back up. "Why did you have kids?" 
Harlan sits back in his chair and looks at his grandson, really looks at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"Have you always wanted kids? Is it because Nana and Great Nana wanted them for you? Why did you choose to have kids?" 
Harlan takes a moment to really think about his answer, he's not sure why Ransom is asking him this but he has a feeling that his answer could potentially change Ransom's opinion. Whatever it is. "I don't know how it happened." He says sincerely. "I don't remember ever thinking about wanting to have kids until I met your Nana. I was a lot like you when I was younger. Reckless and handsome." He teases to lighten up the mood. "You often hear people say "I met the love of my life and my world got turned upside down" but when I met the love of my life my world finally made sense. All the puzzle pieces fell into place and everything felt right. I loved her with all of my being, still do. There's not a day that I don't miss her but she's not really truly gone because I see little pieces of her in every single one of you." He smiles fondly. "I can't say when exactly I decided to have kids, all I remember is thinking that the world would be a better place with more of her in it. Now that she's gone, I'm glad I have all of you to remind me of her."  
"Would you still choose to have kids if you knew how bad we were going to turn out?" 
"Not everyone turned out bad and it's not entirely their fault if they did." 
"Meg is fine but the rest of us, not so much." 
"You turned out fine." Harlan looks at Ransom with a smile and pride in his eyes.
Ransom can't help but laugh. "In what world did I turn out fine?" 
"Look at how much you've changed since I cut you off, how much you've grown. For the first time in… years, you look happy. Genuinely happy."
Ransom shrugs and looks down. "I was." 
"It's that girl, right? Your friend that Marta helped? You fell in love."
It's not a question, it doesn't need to be.
"What happened?" 
Rubbing his hands over his face and sighing, Ransom feels close to breaking down again. "She wants to have kids." 
"And you don't?" Harlan asks curiously.
"Why would I? With how fucked up our family is, I don't need to put that kind of burden on a child or on her. She deserves better. My dad cheats on my mom constantly, they both hate me and each other." He shakes his head. "I'll be a shitty dad and a shitty husband." 
"Tell me, do you think your dad stops to think "am I being a shitty husband?" before cheating on your mother?" 
"Fuck no." Ransom laughs but there's no joy to it.
"Exactly."
Ransom frowns and raises a brow, confused. "Exactly, what?"
Harlan chuckles and sits up on his chair, leaning forward on his desk. "You are not your father. You are nothing like your father. You love her, you care about her. Let's forget about your parents, about this family. It's just you and her in the world, would you have kids with her?" 
"Of course I would. She's my whole fucking world, I'd do anything for her. I'd give her anything she asked for but this is the real world and Drysdale men don't make good fathers." 
"Then break the cycle." Harlan says, like it's the most obvious solution. 
"Oh, right. Sure. Just like that." Ransom answers, clearly being sarcastic as he rolls his eyes. 
"Why not? Are you a good boyfriend to her?" 
"I don't know. I guess."
"Do you love her? Show her affection? Treat her right? Take care of her? Respect her?" 
"I do."
"Then you've already broken the cycle of Drysdale men being shitty boyfriends or husbands. If you can do that then you can break the bad father cycle." 
"What if I can't and I end up ruining her life and the kid's life?"
"What if you can and you end up being happy with a great family?" 
"I hate it when you answer my question with a question." He shakes his head.
"I know you do." Harlan chuckles. 
"I'm scared I might have lost her." Ransom admits, so quietly that Harlan almost missed it.
"If you love her then fight for her. If you just give up then you're sure to lose her. Go home, fix it." 
Ransom runs a hand through his hair. "We have two roommates, they are protective of her, they probably won't let me talk to her alone and if they do they'll just hide and listen to everything." 
"Here." Harlan opens his desk drawer and pulls out a set of keys. "Send them there."
"Are those the keys to my old house?"
"Those are the keys to the house that I paid for. Now go, fight for your girl. Make me proud." 
Ransom stands up and takes the keys. He walks over to the door and opens it, turning around to add one more thing. "Please don't tell anyone about me and her. I don't want them anywhere near my relationship." 
Harlan nods. "You got it. Your secret is safe with me." 
"Thank you. For everything." 
His grandfather smiles at him. "I'm proud of you Ransom." 
He walks out of the house while taking his phone out of his pocket and tries to call you. He's not surprised when you don't pick up, it was to be expected. He hangs up to get an Über and he's surprised to see how late it is already. He hadn't realized that so much time had passed. It's almost dinner time but it feels later than that because of how dark it already is outside. 
On his ride home, Ransom thinks about how or what he'll need to do to get you alone without the guys. 
Once he gets dropped off near the building, he calls Theo to say he needs to see both he and Chase to clear the air before seeing you. After the call, he runs up the stairs and waits until he's sure they are gone. 
After the night they had locked you up in the loft together you had confiscated the keys from that specific lock and put them all in a drawer in the kitchen so while the guys are moving down to the first floor, Ransom quietly sneaks into the loft and locks the door. He leaves the key just in case one of you wants to get out, he doesn't want to hold you hostage he just wants to keep the guys out until he has had a chance to have a real talk with you. 
He sends them a quick text to tell them where he hid the key of his old house with the address. The guys would be pissed if they weren't so impressed by how quickly Ransom has learned to play by their rules. Plus, there are worse ways to spend your Saturday night than in a giant, beautiful house. 
Once he's sure the guys won't be interrupting anything Ransom takes off his shoes and his jacket, leaving them close to the front door. He takes a few deep breaths to settle his nerves before heading to your room. 
He usually loves moments when the loft is calm and in complete silence, like right now, but tonight he wishes there would be a noise, a sound, anything to cover his nervous heartbeat and the blood rushing through his veins at an incredible speed.
Ransom turns the knob and walks in without a sound before closing the door again. He moves closer to your bed, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of you looking so small and fragile, almost broken. He hates that he did this to you.
Lifting up the covers, Ransom carefully gets into your bed and lies behind you. A sigh of relief almost escapes his lips when you don't flinch or tense up at his presence, counting it as a small win. 
You have no idea what time it is, all you know is that you've spent the entire day in bed crying, sleeping or staring at the wall in front of you. You're tired and your body aches from lying in the same position for hours on end, yet you can't find the energy to move. Not even to turn around. Chase and Theo check up on you often to make sure you don't need anything, maybe that's why you're able to tell right away when it's Ransom who comes in and not one of your other roommates. 
You let him get in and settle down right behind you without saying anything. What is there to say that hasn't already been said earlier? 
What you don't expect is for him to reach over and wrap his arm around you, like he always does, and you feel terrible for jumping the way you do. Ransom tries to move his arm away when he sees and feels you get scared but you stop him, putting your hand on top of his. 
Ransom's eyes are burning with unshed tears as he wraps his front around your back, getting as close to you as physically possible. 
"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did." He says quietly, not surprised to hear the pain in his own voice. "Can you turn around, please?" 
You hesitate but slowly turn around to be facing him. As soon as he sees your face he moves his hand away from your waist and uses it to wipe off the fresh tears on your cheeks, not realizing that his own are now running free.
"I'm so sorry, kitten. I'm so fucking sorry." He whispers, knowing that his voice can't get any louder without breaking or wavering. 
You're fast to cover his cheeks with your hands, using your thumbs to make his tears disappear as soon as they come out. "You don't have to apologize. Sometimes things just don't work out." You give him the tiniest of smiles to show him you're not mad. You could never be mad at him for knowing what he wants or doesn't want. 
Ransom's eyes widen as he realizes why you think he's apologizing. "No, no, no, no." He says quickly and puts his index finger under your chin to make you look in his eyes. "I went to see Harlan today and we talked, for hours. You were right. I'm not my dad and I'll never be my dad. I love you, I'm fucking crazy about you and I never want to hurt you. I promise I'll never cheat on you or do anything else to hurt you, to hurt us." 
"Oh, Ran. I know you won't. The thought never even crossed my mind and I love you, I really do that's why it hurts so much but we want different things. As much as I love and adore you, I haven't changed my mind about wanting to have kids. I'm sorry." 
"I know, kitten. That's what I'm trying to say." He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and rests his forehead against yours. "I changed my mind."
Your eyes widen and you quickly sit up. "Are you for real?"
"Yes." He sits up too, facing you. 
"A few hours ago you didn't even want to think about having kids, Ran this isn't like changing your mind about getting a cat." 
"Like I said, I talked to Harlan and he opened my eyes on a few things." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger across your cheek. "If it were someone else, I wouldn't have changed my mind but it's you. I know you won't be scared to call me out if I do something bad and I know I'll love our kids because they will be yours. I really thought about it, I'm sure."
You stare at him speechless. "Maybe you should take some more time to think about it." You suggest, a little taken aback.
"I don't need to." 
You're shocked that he has changed his mind so rapidly but also shocked that you believe him even if you think an afternoon isn’t enough to make such a big decision. He seems so sure of himself, there's not even an ounce of doubt in his voice, in his words or in his eyes. 
Before you try to argue again, Ransom closes the distance between the two of you and kisses you. It starts off chaste and soft but it quickly turns sloppy and full of need, full of desire. One of his hands travels down your body to the small of your back where his hand then moves under your shirt. He sighs at the contact of your warm, soft skin and moves closer to you. 
You put your hands to the back of his head where you tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close, as if he'd ever dare to leave you like this. 
Ransom kisses the corner of your lips and trails down from your cheek to the side of your neck to give you a chance to breathe. He sucks and nips at the skin, smiling against your neck when he feels you shiver. 
You bite your lower lip and close your eyes to let yourself get lost in his touch. 
He lifts up his head and he grins at the sight in front of him. "You look so beautiful." He presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath once more. He helps you lie down on your back, holding himself up with one hand flat on the mattress while the other is still on your back. He lowers himself with you and settles his body on top of yours, between your legs so as to not crush you under his weight. His hand that's on your back moves from under you and comes to take yours instead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he raises them above your head to rest on the pillow. 
Once again Ransom breaks off the kiss to let you breathe and instead presses soft kisses all over your cheeks, forehead and nose. He stops to look down into your eyes when he feels you cupping his cheek in the palm of your free hand to get his attention. 
"I love you." You say softly after feeling the urge to say it first this time. 
Ransom's breath hitches in his throat and he gently squeezes your hand that he's holding. He gets lost in his own mind for a few moments, trying to think back to the last time that someone told him they loved him and meant it. For years girls have told him they loved him, not because that was how they felt but because they thought it could get them expensive gifts or money. It didn't. Those three little words have always turned Ransom off, until tonight. He used to hate hearing them but now they might be his favorite words. "Fuck." He curses quietly under his breath, his heart is pounding in his chest in the most wonderful way. "I love you." He adds quickly right before kissing the tip of your nose. "Wanna get started on those babies?" He asks you, cheekily as he wiggles his eyebrows and grins down at you. 
You can't help but laugh at his playful attitude. You tilt your head a little to the side, matching his playfulness. "Are you sure you want the babies and not just the baby making?" 
"I'm a big, big fan of the baby making." He smirks. "But I'm gonna be an even bigger fan of the babies that come from it." 
You shake your head as you smile, amused. "How about for right now we practice and we can talk about babies tomorrow morning?" 
"Anything you want, my love." He smiles as he leans down to kiss you. The moment your lips touch, his playfulness is gone and all of his focus is on making you feel good, beautiful and loved beyond words. Over and over again until you're both too exhausted to move.
Ransom rolls off of you and lies on his back next to you, letting you both catch your breath. You wiggle closer until you’re flushed against his side and rest the back of your head on his bicep. He moves his head to look at you and smiles at how relaxed and at peace you look. He wraps his index finger and thumb on both sides of your jaw to angle your head in the right direction to give him easy access to your lips as he leans in to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling away.
‘’We totally just made a baby, I can feel it.’’ He rests his head back on the pillow and looks up at the ceiling. 
You laugh and take the hand that was on your face, holding it between yours as you close your eyes. ‘’I think it’s going to take a little while before we do. At least I hope so.’’
Ransom frowns and turns his head to look at you. ‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’
You blindly trace his pinky ring with the tip of your finger, slowly opening your eyes to look back at him. ‘’I love how excited you are about this but we don’t need to have a kid now. We need money, lots of it and our own place because I’m not taking care of a newborn baby on top of taking care of Theo and Chase.’’
‘’Right.’’ He sighs. ‘’I keep forgetting that money is an issue for me now.’’
You raise a hand to his beard and gently scratch with your fingers along his jawline. ‘’We just need to come up with a plan, to make sure we’re ready when it does happen. If we did make a baby tonight, we’ll make it work but I’d like to be prepared.’’
‘’It’s a good thing that one of us is smart.’’ 
‘’Don’t say that, you’re smart too.’’ 
‘’Oh, I know. I was talking about myself.’’ He laughs at your shocked gasp and kisses your temple. ‘’I’m just teasing.’’
You sit up to put your shirt and leggings back on. ‘’I hope you enjoyed getting laid earlier because that was the last time in a very long while.’’ You stick out your tongue at him before hurrying out of your bed and heading to the bathroom to take a shower. 
‘’No, come back.’’ He tries to stop you from getting out of bed but you’re too quick. ‘’Kitten.’’ He whines and smiles when he hears you laugh. He gets out of bed and follows you to the bathroom, not bothering with putting on any clothes since it’s just the two of you and he has locked out your other two roommates. ‘’What are we doing?’’ He asks, innocently.
‘’I’m taking a shower.’’ You turn on the water to let it warm up before getting in.
‘’What a great idea for us to take a shower.’’ 
You bite down on your lip, trying not to laugh and encourage him. You shake your head instead. 
He leans down to kiss the side of your neck, covering every inch of skin with his lips as he puts his hands under the front of your shirt to cover your stomach. ‘’Need some help with your clothes, kitten?’’ He nips at the skin right under your ear, making you shiver.
You slightly lean back into him, making him think he has won but you quickly snap out of it and pull away. ‘’I got it, thanks. I’ll be done soon if you want to take a shower after.’’ You take off your clothes and walk inside the shower, closing the door behind you as you step under the water. 
A few seconds later you feel a big gush of cold air coming in, making you aware that Ransom has opened the door. He steps in and stands behind you as he closes the door right after. 
‘’Ran, what are you doing?’’ You don’t turn around, your poker face sucks and you want to pretend to be mad for as long as you can. 
‘’Just making sure my beautiful baby mama is safe.’’ He wraps his arms around your shoulders and kisses the back of your head. 
You laugh quietly and lean back into him. ‘’I’m not a baby mama yet.’’
‘’Yet. But I’m working on it..’’ He moves his hands to rest on top of your stomach and you almost melt at how adorable he is being since coming back from Harlan’s. 
A small part of you wants to tease him and tell him that he’s being super cheesy but the sincerity in his voice stops you. Instead you put your hands on top of his and relax under the hot water. 
‘’Ran?’’ You say his name quietly after a few minutes of just holding one another. 
‘’Yes, my love?’’ 
‘’I’m starving.’’ 
He chuckles. ‘’Yeah, me too. Let’s wash up and then we can go out.’’
‘’Out? Ransom Drysdale are you taking me out on a date?’’ You turn your head to look up at him.
He smiles and kisses your forehead. ‘’I don’t know if you can call it a date because I definitely can’t afford fancy restaurants but we’re going out to eat.’’ 
‘’Well, lucky for you I’m more of a small restaurant kinda girl. Small prices, big portions and I have my own money.’’ 
‘’I’m paying and I sure am lucky.’’ He smiles before letting go of you to grab the soap. 
By the time you get out there is no more hot water but neither of you care. You head back to your rooms to get dressed and meet back at the front door.
You’ve decided to walk to the small italian restaurant a few blocks away, you’ve gone often but Ransom hasn’t had a chance to eat there yet and you have a feeling he’s going to love it. You, Theo and Chase have been going there for years and the owners know you well, they often give you discounts that you pay back in their tip. 
You sit at your usual table and Ransom surprises you by sitting next to you instead of sitting across from you. You are so used to your boyfriends being either ashamed of being seen with you or trying to hide that they have a girlfriend in case they run into their other girlfriends that you’re always pleasantly surprised to see Ransom doing the exact opposite. He puts his arm on the back of your chair once he's settled and runs his fingers up the back of your neck as he takes one of the menus to decide on what to eat. 
You on the other hand don't even look at the menu because you know exactly what you're going to eat, the same thing as usual. 
"Everything looks so good." He says as he flips through the few pages with his free hand. 
"It tastes even better, I promise." 
"I bet. It smells amazing in here." He quickly glances around to see what is on other people's plates to potentially help him make a decision. There are so many choices and it's hard to choose just one.
A waiter comes over to pour you water and take your orders, leaving swiftly after. 
Ransom gets closer and kisses your cheek as he reaches for his glass of water at the same time with his free hand, taking a few quick sips before putting it down. He watches as you lean into his side, smiling as he watches you yawn and rest your head on his shoulder. Bringing his hand up to your head, he gently strokes your hair while kissing the top of your head. "Tired, my love?" 
You nod. "Yes. Today was exhausting." 
His heart clenches at the painful thought of everything he put you through today. "I'm so sorry." 
"You don't have to apologize, Ran." 
"Yes, I do. I hurt you and I made you cry. I'm sorry." 
You tilt your head to be able to look at him without having to move away from his shoulder. "You didn't hurt me or make me cry. I was scared that we were done and I didn't want us to be."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily." He teases, smiling lovingly down at you. 
"Good, I don't want you to go anywhere." You smile back at him, a look of pure adoration in your eyes.
Anyone that would look at the two of you right now could see, without even knowing you, that you're in love with each other. The looks, the smiles and the touches are filled with respect and need for each other that makes it beautiful to watch the interaction between you two. 
You barely let go of each other long enough to eat and as soon as you're done you find yourself back into Ransom's side. 
The same waiter from earlier comes back over to clear your plates and ask if you need anything else.
"I'm full, thank you." You smile before finishing your water and putting your empty glass back on the table.
"Just the check." 
You try to pay for your half of the bill but Ransom insists on paying, you know better than to try and fight him. Instead you might "find" $20 in his jeans pockets while doing the laundry, that you'll make sure to give back. 
You walk back to the loft with your arm around his waist and his arm around your shoulders. Walking is a great way to help the food go down but the air is getting cold and gets through your clothes. 
Once in the elevator Ransom pushes on the button for your floor and wraps his arms around you, hiding you under his coat to help warm you up. Back in the apartment, he locks the door again to keep the other two out for the night and meets you in the bathroom to brush his teeth as you do the same. You both head back to his room, closing the door behind you, then taking off your clothes to get into his bed. He stays in only his briefs while you steal one of his t-shirts to cover yourself with for the night.
"I love you, thank you for tonight." You press a kiss to his chest before laying your head on top of his heart, just in time to hear it flutter at the first three words of your sentence. 
"I love you." He rubs your back, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. 
Thankfully the day ends in the exact same way it started: You in the arms of the man that you love feeling good and protected, right where you belong.
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drgenius-reid · 6 months
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War and Peace, and Coffee
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A/N: It's down to the wire but I just about managed to get something together for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute Challenge. Summary: Spencer finds himself meeting a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader  Category: Fluff Content Warnings: Use of Y/N. Word Count: 920
Spencer didn’t think he had ever seen someone more beautiful in his life. Even as she sat in the corner of the coffee shop, curled up on a chair with a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose, she looked adorable as she succumbed to the words in front of her. 
She read 1984 by George Orwell. Spencer could tell what book it was just from seeing a tiny piece of the cover that poked through her fingers. He noted how delicately she was holding the book, being careful as to not ruin the spine of it. 
On the small table in front of her, Spencer could see an untouched cup of coffee, a bookmark with a quote that he couldn’t figure out from where he stood, and a banana peel on a plate. He was intrigued by her. Even though he didn’t know why. 
The woman looked up from her book before Spencer could look away. Their eyes met and Spencer’s cheeks grew warm, embarrassment flooding over him at being caught watching her. He tipped his head forward towards her when she smiled softly at him, her eyes wandering back to the words that had pilfered her attention. 
Spencer walked up to the counter at the front of the coffee shop and ordered himself a black coffee with plenty of sugar, and an orange, paying for them before he headed to the bottom of the shop where a tall shelf sat, completely filled with books. He grabbed a copy of War and Peace and took a seat at the table next to the woman’s. 
‘You know you can always take the spare seat at this table,’ she said softly. 
Spencer looked to his right to see the woman now holding her cup of coffee, hands wrapped around it securely. Her glasses were back on her nose properly and her book rested on the table near her knee. 
‘I wouldn’t want to ruin your reading time,’ Spencer smiled. ‘Thank you though.’ 
The woman let out a small chuckle before motioning her head towards the door. ‘See that woman who just walked in? That’s Margaret. She is about to order herself a port of tea and a slice of cake. You, my friend, are sitting in Margaret’s seat and trust me, you don’t want to be there when she gets here. She will either flirt with you until you leave to try and get away from her, or she will pick you apart.’ 
‘And what if I’m into older women?’ Spencer challenged the woman, who threw her head back in laughter. 
‘I promise you, if you want to read your book and actually enjoy it, you’d be better coming to sit here with me.’ 
When Spencer saw the older lady ordering the exact thing he was told that she would, he moved his things across to the next table as quickly as he could, sitting down just in time. His new table mate picked her book back up to continue reading. 
‘Nice choice of literature you have there.’ 
The woman smiled at Spencer as she shrugged lightly. ‘The best books are those that tell you what you know already.’ 
‘But one must know that there was truth and there was untruth, and if you clung to the truth even against the whole world, you were not mad.’ Spencer smiled at the woman who looked at him in disbelief. 
‘You’re an Orwell fan?’ 
‘More like a literature fan. I’ve read this book multiple times already,’ Spencer said as he lifted the book into the air slightly. 
‘Quote it,’ the woman challenged, placing her bookmark back into the book so that she could put her attention on him fully. 
Spencer took a deep breath and looked at her, trying to hide the smile that wanted to spread across his face. ‘Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, when I saw my enemy and yet loved him. 
‘I knew that feeling of love which is the essence of the soul, for which no object is needed. And I know that blissful feeling now too. To love one’s neighbours; to love one’s enemies. To love everything - tol;ove God in all His manifestations. 
‘Someone dear to one can be loved with human love; but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. And that was why I felt such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What happened to him? Is he alive? Loving with human love, one may pass from love to hatred; but divine love cannot change. 
‘Nothing, not even death, can shatter it. It is the very nature of the soul. And how many people I have hated in my life. And of all people none I have loved and hated more than her. If it were only possible for me to see her once more.’ 
Spencer trailed off. The woman was staring at him, mouth agape. It was a look that would normally make him extremely uncomfortable but with her, it didn’t.  
‘I’m floored,’ she said finally. ‘War and Peace was the first book I read for my undergrad and I remember reading that passage for the first time. It really made me think about the nuances of love and what it means to love everyone. I’m Y/N, by the way.’ 
‘Spencer.’ 
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer.’ 
‘And you, Y/N.’ 
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down-one-juice · 1 year
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Print and Palms - Morpheus x reader SOULMATE AU!
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Summary: A little Godling finds her way back to Preston over the long years she has roamed, visiting the grave of a dear friend. Her little visit is interrupted though, as her and an endless are bound.
Words: Around 3k
Warnings: Blood, Swearing.
AN: This is the first fiction I have written since college, please be nice to me! Comments are really appreciated! Also its a Slooooooooow Burn because in this chapter, they have yet to meet. But in the next chapter, they shall!
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There you now stood, on the edge of the world it seemed.
Watching from the top of the old bell tower in the centre of town, you peeked beneath the awning above you. All bustle and hustle below. Rain angrily flew sideways at you, sticking your hair to your cheek, occasionally landing a drop from your brow onto your chin. Women and men dressed in their warmest clothing Scurried away towards the shelter of a pub or home. Umbrellas, gloves and heavy skirts to fight off the chill.
Your garb mimicked theirs. The woollen skirts layered over you. But you did not feel the chill, you already felt gutted and cold from the inside. For you were at this bell tower to honour a promise. You could almost see it from here, the mountains now cleared of any fog that may have been there before the rain. What was once a fresh mound of dirt a mere 300 years ago, now fell into a flat landscape.
“Hello Perrin,” you whispered towards the mountains.
A sincere sadness plagued your heart, You had missed the last visit to his grave 300 years ago. Not that you were able to say it was an accident. You had merely tried to pretend you were human. That is what they do. They mourn and move on, create distance between the one that had died. As after all, even a great wizard needed to greet his death like a well-earned slumber. But, after 50 years you realised something. Humans do not spend the better part of a thousand years with the ones they love. You needed to honour the man that picked you up when you scraped your knees running with the hounds. Or the man who had hidden you when you had torn the heart from a man the first time.
Ah, to be 13 again.
Even when you had lost control, tearing flesh from man and woman. Howling and biting for the throats of the innocent. He had taken you in by the hearth. Swaddled you and washed the blood clean. Soft and stern like only a father of a disobeying child would be. A child who did not know why they disobeyed so.
That was the time before the amulet hung by your breast. He was the reason you were in control. You had returned the favour well, helping him through 17 wives and what must have been scores of little spawn.
You wanted to be able to tell him of his descendants. Where to start? You still kept an eye on a select few, the ones that had more of his blood running through them than most.
“That small one,” you started suddenly,” with the red hair, Ronny? He found his soulmate. He was ordering his coffee, looking though his wallet for a tip for the jar when the girl asked for his name. She was sweet looking; not too tall. And then they locked eyes.”
You sighed and leaned onto the pillar beside you. A soulmate was a beautiful thing. It meant that the universe and the realms had converged in such a way that you were near enough to feel them.
Perrin had never found his, nor had you. Two with such a long life, surviving with the knowledge that the universe preferred you alone.
For those that are mostly or all human, It’s a warm feeling. They can feel what the air is like to breath from the others lungs for a brief moment. Then it turns into a warm and comforting hum. That’s the way others had described it to you.
Love was apparently pleasant and warm. Or, at the very least, human love. Kind and simple.
You watched as a print had made its burn onto the skin behind Ronny's ear. No doubt where his new loves hand would fall many times as she kissed his freckled face.
Why you had been so long without a soulmate was baffling. Most of the time, even immortals found their own. If they tended to be mortal, Death made an exception. They’re ‘record’ seemed to be lost, and they mistakenly were taken to the wrong realm it seemed.
Lightening cracked, illuminating the large manor beyond the treeline. Wind picked up as you waited for the thunder to hit. In those seconds the wind seemed to still. You looked back at what was now a grave.
“I’m so sorry.”
Tears seemed to jerk from your eyes as a single sob ripped into your chest, rattling the amulet that was tucked beneath your collar. And the flood gates opened. The next sob was met with the crash of the thunder, wind flew through the bell tower, finally warning you it was time to go.
Yet, you couldn’t. Not yet.
“Five more minutes, old friend. I owe you that much.”
Years passed.
You travelled far and wide, half a century had passed before you felt the pull back to Perrin and his resting place.
You had finally made your way back to the town that was once small and meek, now booming with wealth and prosperity thanks to the attraction that became the Burgess house. It had always made you queasy that thing, it seemed to call to you, then shun you away with the same breath.
A warning and a plea.
Perrin had often told you to not meddle in the affairs of folk that believed they had more power than they did. It wasn’t worth risking those that would bring a godling to harm.
But yet, you had always wondered about the rumours the poor folks in the pubs spouted at you.
“A devil.” They would slur. “An’ if yer’ not careful, he’ll gobbl’ you up and ne’er spit you out!”
You had felt bad for most of them, they would never know what a true devil was. Although some of the ones that were on the handsier side you hoped would taste a portion of the devils wrath. For now, you sat at the pub at the bottom of the street, as you had so many times. Every so often flitting back in when you were confident that you would not be sought after as a witch and burned at the stake.
Again.
Now you stood before the stone building, holding an old leather bag and watching the flapper women gleefully run towards cars awaiting to take them to the Magus. It was still slightly familiar, it had not been quite long enough for the building to shake the last of the century off just yet. The doorway still held those designs from the last visit, although it seemed several layers of paint had been slopped over them.
You sat by the door, shrugging off your obnoxiously large, old coat, which was by now more patches than the real deal, harshly shoving it between you and the hard seat back as a cushion. Slipping into the seat you placed your bag by your feet, pulling an old notebook bound in leather from its innards.
“’ello, miss!”
You glance up at a kindly older gentlemen, his eyebrows slightly unruly. His nose was large, almost as though a cauliflower had been plopped in the centre. Above that his glasses fell slightly askew, doubting they did much as he was still squinting at you merrily. He was dressed cosily, a vest and woollen jumper hugged him tight. Though it did nothing to hide the finger marks that peeked from the sleeve. What would have been a bright scarred colour was now a dull grey.
A lost soul, you thought.
“Just a pint of the freshest you have, please,” You answered.
He seemed to understand and cheerfully chatted to another at the bar as he poured. You went back to the notes. Reading over a few runes that you had found in some abandoned building not far from here. You could see what they were going for. A few tweaks and they may have successfully summoned something.
As you saw the movement of the barkeep turn back towards you, the sky exploded.
Blue and black shook the windows angrily. Sand and grass flew through doors that were flung wide open like mouths. A few of the lights on the streets shattered and sparked, only to blacken the streets moments later.
Chaos erupted. A few that had been holding drinks nearer to their mouths spat glass and ale mixed with red. You had been thrown to the floor, napkins and coasters flying past your head.
What was this power? This anger that you felt screaming through every part of your being. You clutched at the amulet under your shirt as your heart seemed to pick up to match the heartbeat in the wind. Closing your eyes for a moment before you managed to scramble to your feet. The wind still pushed at the backs of your knees. Almost as though willing you to bend before it. To kneel.
You watched as others started to come to a sense of realisation that the world wasn’t ending. Burgess house was probably at it again. They all did their best to close windows and doors. Bundle the injured up and out to the back where windows were less frequent. Others just continued to drink. To grumble out a harsh:
“Always knew those doors were shoddy.”
But they couldn't feel it, couldn’t grasp the absolute rage that had freed itself into the room. It was still ebbing and flowing and screaming. Even if the wind had flown on to the next victim.
You cautiously approached the ghost of what was once a window, glancing upwards at the path that was well paved and still well lit, compared to the dark streets outside the door that were missing bricks. You watched a gust pick up the leaves and branches at the entrance. Framed by beautiful arches of life that seemed to answer the call. You knew it was through there. The Burgess estate.
Perhaps it was time to venture past those borders and visit the Magus.
A small tingling on your chest made you look down. Black grains sank beneath your skin, your breath caught and you stumbled back to your chair. Hearing the kind old man calling out politely as you felt your hands go numb. Your nose felt cold and your knees fell stiff.
The necklace chain you had worn for centuries seemed to scream away from your neck as pain ripped through your back. The power you had felt just before punching through to your heart as a scream tore its way from your throat. You could barely afford to breath as a pain as hot as a branding iron slashed at the base of your throat.
You finally fell, finding the strength to open your eyes, you curled in on yourself. You could just make it out, golden sand flowed from what seemed to be the glow of fire in your neck. The tears that blurred your vision seemed to evaporate as soon as they found your lashes.
You began to question just how much more you could take, the sand felt cool on your skin as the fiery feeling raged on.
You did not know how long it lasted, nor did you wish to know, but the calls and shouts from the pub patrons were mere buzzing in your brain. You knew there were hands on you. Knew there were people clawing through the sand to clear you from it. And yet all you could feel was the presence of anger and power that ripped you to shreds.
As soon as it started. It ceased to be.
The smouldering ache left almost immediately, but in it’s stead it left a wanting. You felt as though you had ice on your throat that you would never be able to warm. For now, a welcome contrast but in the coming years, it would prove maddening.
You gasped and threw yourself away from the sand beneath you. Scurrying backwards on your hands with a new found energy. Panic induced adrenaline seemed to be a hell of a drive. When your back hit the bottom of the bar you stalled, eyes wide and panting. In the middle of the room was now a pile of sand that seemingly glowed under the light.
Dragging your gaze from a very human shaped mark on the floor you looked at the people hovering around. Concern, disgust, fear. One woman even had a hat pin aimed in your direction.
The new silence deafened you, and you found the energy to try and stand. Clumsily you stumbled to your things, attempting to grab your bag and coat before you, so gracefully, ran away. You could hear the people around you starting to move again and you wanted to be gone before some poor police officer was sent this way.
Your skin felt like ice and you just wanted to be away from here. Before you could escape, however, you caught your reflection in the window of the doors. Your eyes were red, small splotches of blood hung by your lash line and nose.
And a hand print had snugly found it’s way around your throat. The skin around it still angry and bright. Your breath caught in the back of your throat.
You needed to get the fuck out of here.
Not far away from where the pub now shook, the Endless sat, statuesque and tall. All muscle and bone, seemingly as healthy as when he first fell. Alex dared not venture past the frame of the door. Not this time. He simply peered through the bars, avoiding the light that would catch on the beings prison and cast shadows over the floor.
There he was, the dream.
Shrouded by the glass that could not quite allow him to hear well enough to make out the goings on upstairs. To hear the fact that above them, the Magus laughed and rejoiced with those that buckled beneath his feet. This was a natural occurrence for Alex, staring at the pale man whilst he heard the guards bicker about something stupid.
He was in awe of this monster, as he always had. But awe can be overshadowed by fear. As much as the Magus, his father, believed it would finally bestow him his brother back, Alex could not be so sure the creature would comply.
And that’s all he was now. A creature in the silence that seemed to breathe slower and slower as the years passed. His bird like torso almost still. Almost as though he had forgotten that he needed to to breathe.
Alex could hear a ruckus from up the stairs. No doubt another fight had broken out after too much liquor and swapping women. The old stairs behind him flew dust down at his feet. A wind that didn’t exist scraping over the ancient walls near his face. Roderick was probably up to no good again. At least, that’s what Alex had hoped.
He was not able to think on the subject any longer as he turned his attention back to Dream. He had slightly moved from his position. Now his face basked slightly upward and his eyes cast to the ceiling. Furrowed brow and pursed lips as his eyes seemed to melt into starlight.
“Always freaks me out when he moves.” One of the guards grumbled with a clink of a coffee cup. Just out his eye line he knew that the men were lounged quite comfortably. Against the Magus’ wishes.
The other let a grunt in response as he stood, footsteps edging close to the glass ball.
“’es stopped now, eh?” He could make out a shoulder coming into view, and Alex ducked up a few of the steps, trying not to crunch the stone beneath his dress shoes. The silence that followed seemed to be enough of an answer as the shoes clacked back towards the table.
Alex felt the floor seemingly fall from under him as he slipped, the guard let out shocked “OI!” as it seemed they had felt the same. Alex's’ attention immediately turned to the door again. Scrambling back to his knees he peeked back through the bars as the glass prison seemed to fill with some sort of wind. Impossibly harsh, throwing the Endless about against the walls.
He didn’t seem too phased as he let the current take him left to right, he seemed amused almost. Intrigued. The guards started to scramble, talking about Roderick and if they should go get him. Alex at this point wasn’t scared of being found, all he could do was watch.
Because the Endless lord started to SCREAM.
The first sound he had uttered in such a long time. His voice had not been used for such an age that it seemed to not quite reach it’s peak. It was hoarse and pained, Alex shot upwards, tempted to throw the gate open and barge in. Still wishing no harm onto him.
The dark hair fell over his eyes that now screwed shut as he clutched at his right hand. A golden light spreading over the palm, the muscles rippled through his chest and back. Changing what was once a relaxed canvas of skin, into a map of veins and tendon.
The glow seemed to fill the prison with warmth that the cellar had not felt in a long time. Alex could feel it on his face and hands as they clutched at the metal. But alas, the light was short lived as the glow was snuffed out by red.
Blood began pouring through his palm, by the bucket load.
The screams were higher now, more desperate as his toes disappeared into the thick warmth. By the time it had stopped, Dream had slumped backwards, trying to find footing as he tired. His feet were now gone. He sloshed as he attempted to stand, below his ankles were hidden from view.
He seemed to trip. Putting his hands out to steady himself, his right hand pressed against the glass. Alex’s eyes almost burst from his skull, his heart dropping with them. For there, in the Endless’ palm, was the print of another. Smaller, slightly more curved and delicate than his own.
I’ll be damned. He thought. Even the fucking Sandman gets one.
The riot came to an end and he heard one of the guards grunting to climb to his feet. It was time to leave. Turning on his heel, not without sparing one last look at the burn on the beings hand, and ran.
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darling-i-read-it · 8 months
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is it possible to either request a fic or hc whatever you feel like doing of trevor?
something kind of like that college request with love sick smitten nauseating trevor and his sweet little girlfriend who walks in to them planning a heist. she knows what he does but she doesn’t want a part of it and neither does trevor but she still supports him. he does anything in his power to keep her out of it. but does he get turned on seeing her hold his gun? yes. will he eventually try to get her warmed up to straddling him with a gun pointed at his neck while she rides him? absolutely.
but putting her in danger is something that makes him physically sick. maybe during the heist she somehow ends up in crosshairs, similar to what trevor did in north yankton when he put that gun to the woman’s head “if you move i’ll shoot her brains out”
but trevor just sees red like his special ability. killing anyone who angers or threatens his baby.
HI literally making me absolutely feral i hope you enjoy <3 <3 Trevor you're such a real one
tw for guns, violence, vague sexual descriptions, typical trevor stuff
Trevor fell in love with you because of your innocence. All the girls who loved him where like him, something similar in their hard gaze, the smell of alcohol on their breath. Not you. You were different.
he swore it was a good thing, he promised Ron and Wade that you were happy with him.
they never believed him. it was hard to believe Trevor on a good day
but they could see from the way you were with him that he was telling the truth. You would sit in his trailer, gently cleaning up without being invasive, laugh at his dumb jokes, call him cute. There is no one someone who didn't love Trevor would do all that
He was nauseating about you. He talked about you all the time, bragged endlessly, always had your name on the tip of his tongue.
"Yeah, I brought her out to dinner last night. She tried to drink me under the table but I had to bring her home," he would say, with heart eyes.
"She didn't make me take down my posters. Would Amanda do that for you Michael?"
"We had lots of fun yesterday. Don't worry Ron, I cleaned the couch. "
He loved that he had something in his life no one else did. You were his unicorn.
Obviously spending so much time with Trevor, it was easy to know what he did for a living. He didn't like to hide anything from you and he didn't like to hide his job in general
Trust that he would be honest about everything. Down to the last penny, he would tell you what he did and why he did it (even if his reasonings were always a little skewed)
You didn't want anything to do with it. You had no interest in going to jail and he perfectly respected and appreciated that. He liked having someone on the outside anyway
Plus, you were the person he could go to outside of all of that. He had plenty of friends in the business, he wanted something that was normal and just for him
that being said
Trevor does love a little bit of corruption. He has never said no to taking you out shooting.
"Just...like that," he muttered. He had his hands on top of yours, his body pressed against your back. You had one eye closed like it would help you aim the gun in your hand. You starred at the beer can on the stump, breathing in and out evenly, just like he had taught you. "Whenever you're ready doll."
You pulled the trigger. Your ears rang out. Trevor didn't believe in ear protection (or any protection for that matter). You missed, just barely.
"Am I getting better?" you asked, hopelessly. You had asked him to teach you to use a gun just in case someone came home while he wasn't there. He agreed. You needed to know how to defend yourself.
"Oh so good. Honestly better than most of the men I've worked with." He loved seeing a gun in your hand. He loved when you brandished it, talking like it wasn't a fully loaded weapon in your hand. He liked when it got a little close to him, making him twitch a bit.
But that's a whole different battle.
Other than that, you avoided all of his lifestyle things. No heists, no ride alongs. He wanted you as safe as humanly possible.
Naturally, if you were around, you were bound to walk into a heist planning without meaning to. You didn't recognize the concentrated look on Trevor's face as he starred at the wall, full of papers and lines and pictures. You had just been grabbing some groceries before coming back to Wade's cousins.
Michael Townley was there, his eyes trained on the wall as well.
"He's no good. We need someone who's done this before Trevor," Michael was saying. You slowly closed the door, approaching the wall. Trevor was sitting on the arm of the couch.
"And Frank is? I mean, I like the kid, don't get me wrong. But can he handle all that?" Trevor's sounded unenthused. He turned to look at Michael and saw you standing behind him, grocery bags in your hand. He stood up quickly. His sudden movements caused Michael to turn around. "Hey baby. You're back early."
"The other store I wanted to go to was closed," you explained. "What's all this?" You asked even though you knew the answer.
"Nothin'," he promised, approaching you. He grabbed a bag from your hand. "You grab beer?"
"Course."
"Atta girl." He helped you put things down on the kitchen counter. Michael gave you a nod in acknowledgment. You returned it with a thin lipped smile.
"Are you guys planning a heist?"
"No need to worry about that dollface," Trevor said. "We can finish this up later." He turned to look at Michael, eyes like daggers, daring him to defy. Michael nodded once. He knew what it was like to want to keep someone out of the danger.
"Yeah, no problem."
but the information stayed up there. You could look at it while you watched the TV, making sense of the ramblings. They'd be down by the docks.
Trevor ignored any questions you asked about it. You didn't want to know, he knew that. You were just curious.
The day of, he planned a full day. Heist at 9, lunch with you at 1. You would come grab him from a safe point, he made sure of it.
Then things went array. His timing had never been great and honestly, he probably should have made sure the safe point was completely safe. It was the exit area, the place where everyone was supposed to meet up when things went well. Everyone showed, all the goods were there...
they were followed
You were already there, waiting with your car, sitting on your phone
You saw everyone rolling up, tires screeching and people running
Guns were going off. You ducked your head below your steering wheel and freaked out silently
Someone was running towards the car, grabbing your drivers door, opening it up because you didn't bother leaving it locked. You didn't even think
Someone pulled you out of the car, tossing you on the ground. You saw little to nothing for a moment, eyes blacking out as you looked around the soon to be chaos
You stood up shakily and saw the man who had pushed you down. Someone completely foreign and honestly scary looking. The second you registered his face, it had been blasted off.
You screamed, almost falling over and scampering away
Someone had grabbed your arm, keeping you up
"Right here doll."
You knew the voice well and almost melted into Trevor's touch, a heavy sigh of relief leaving your lips. Even if everyone was still shooting, you were safe with Trevor. He'd never let anything happen to you.
He dragged out of the fire and placed you carefully behind a car.
"Stay here till I get you." He gave you a gun and said nothing else until he had turned around.
You peaked over the car. There were dozens of men pointing a gun at him. He looked untouchable, guns in both hands, face hard, eyes red.
"Now who wants to fucking try it? Huh?"
You had never seem him move so efficiently. It was like he couldn't get hurt at all. His vision had slowed and everything in his way was gone.
He didn't stop until the very last man was under his boot and a gun was through their temple.
Then he ignored all of his comrades to run to you, skidding on his knees to make sure you were alright.
"You alright baby? They hurt you? I'm so sorry you had to be here."
His voice was rushed and honest. He had you in his arms, breathing harshly. You held him tightly against you, breathing in the smell of his shitty cologne. You had never been so happy to see him.
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