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#well first of all we are friends so jot that down
cherry-leclerc · 8 days
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the set up ☆ ln4
genre: fluff, humor, parent trip vibes from oscahhh, strangers to lovers (bc of course it is), uni!reader
word count: 2.12k
Caught up in work, you find time to join your friends at the McLaren welcome dinner; meeting a certain British driver along the way. Whom you don't make the best first impression with.
req!...oscar+lily playing matchmakers? cute cute cuteeee. quick one for my lando lovers mwahhh
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It takes a lot to convince you; like—a lot. Partial credit is due to your pride, but honestly, it drove your friends mad. 
Let's go out and celebrate! Just a good ‘ol round of drinks. I have to study. Maybe next time.
Oh! I heard of this new place down the street where you custom make your own jewelry. Fun, no? I have enough already, thank you.
Five minutes—let’s just go grab coffee! Too tired. Go on without me.
“It’s my welcome dinner, mate. You can’t do this to me now.” Oscar’s brown eyes flicker between you and his girlfriend, to which she apologetically shrugs. Deep down, it's like she can forehear your excuse. An essay is due, your internship, helping out at your local library. There's been too many times where you’ve flaked, and they were starting to worry. The pile of clothes makes her wince as you greedily type away. 
“I-I’m sorry, but I have to—”
“Reckon you don’t have anything on your agenda that is as important as you make it out to seem,” he hums. Narrowed eyes burn down, flipping your screen towards him.
 Compile a series of current events…BLAH BLAH BLAH. He stops caring, already bored.
“I wish I could—seriously, Oscar—but I’m needed elsewhere.” A beat. “Lily will keep me updated! Go Mango!”
The Australian rolls his eyes, sharp eyebrows expanding with desperation. “Papaya, mate, papaya.” You giggle, mimically apologizing. The clicks continue; round eyes laser focused. He tries getting your attention once more, but you don’t look up at him at all. The driver’s girlfriend purses her pink lips, crossing her legs gingerly against the couch.
“I can help you write your paper. All of it. Just please, come with us.” Blue eyes wink back as you come to a halt, temptation swirling. “We’re your friends and we want you there. Pretty please?”
The McLaren rookie thinks it has to do with his girlfriend's cute pout, but that is so far from it. It was well known that Lily Zneimer had a wicked talent for conducting a killer research essay. From her resources, to her dialogue. It’s astonishing how smoothly it gets done too. With her, it’s a guaranteed pass. Now that was what you needed. 
Berry lips twist back and forth for a second before stretching out. “Touch up on globalization effects in different cultures and we have ourselves a deal.”
-
The paper was coming along so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry. Your eyes buzz with excitement as you jot down a row of bullet points, conversing with Lily before settling on what to write. 
“This is not what I had in mind when you both made this stupid pact,” Oscar groans for the millionth time as he passes by, spotting you and his girlfriend crouched down on a table; computer, notebook, pencils, index cards, books—everything—in hand.  
“Mate, this is worth half of my grade,” you shriek; jotting a few more possible ideas. Finally, your dazy orbs connect back onto him. “As in fifty percent.” You gag. “Do you realize how terrifying that is?”
Lily shoos him. “We’re almost done anyway, darling. Go enjoy the party.” The Australian’s jaw drops and she huffs, raising her neat brows. “Go, go, goooo.”
Despite his girlfriend and his best friend ignoring him, he has a splendid time. He curses beneath his breath when a large hand sprawls against his back. Lando laughs. “Don’t worry, my date ditched me too,” he teases, blue eyes sparkling against the fuzzy lights. The rookie sighs plainly.
“I wasn’t ditched—'' He angles his head to face back to where you and the dirty blond hunch over, whispering, attention drawn onto the bright screen. A few people even go as far as to try and take a peek, probably thinking you were working on anything McLaren. “Yeah, uh, I guess you could say I was ditched.”
His teammate rubs his watch a couple or times, nothing but music lingering between them. No one really speaks up until Lily delicately makes her way. Oscar tilts his head politely. “Done?”
“No quite yet, but she has it all under control.” She faces the British driver with a sheepish line formed between her pink lips. “Hello, you must be Oscar’s new teammate.” A beat. “I’m Lily.”
“Lando,” he can feel himself proclaiming. “I thought she was Lily…” A lousy fingers points over to you. They both let out a weak chuckle. That’s my friend from back home, Oscar confirms. Her and Lily are super close, too. She beams, light blush feathering her full cheeks.
All of a sudden—the Australian sparks up. “Come; let me introduce you two.”
The twenty-four doesn't really have anything better to do; business convos that have him apologizing profusely, cameras being shoved straight into his face, girls who never get the hint. “Sure.” 
First thing he notices is the faded scar that hugs the bridge of your nose. It's almost completely gone—and he really shouldn’t even be able to spot it—but it's there, almost a glassy color that shines back at him. He notices how quick you are at typing; navy blue, fingers flying at a constant speed. He’s impressed. Or the way you barely spare him a glance. 
“Don’t be rude, he’s talking to you,” Oscar hissed as he and Lily tower over you like a strict parent duo. You can distinguish the panic that laces through her when you didn’t first respond, too worried at making a bad impression, even if it wasn't her leaving it behind. 
“Of course, I…um, I’m sorry—shit!” The laptop blinks back at you as a warning before settling in its death. A groan slips by, hands pressing harshly against the keys, then the screen. Nervously, you look up at Lily, biting your bottom lip. “What do I do? What should I do? What should I do?”
“Charge it when we get back,” Oscar advises, still waiting for you to greet the older McLaren driver. Lando stands back amused. “As I was saying—”
“It’s due at midnight, dimwit!” It’s eleven-fifteen exactly. “I need to find a charger.”
“O-okay, lets just all calm down.” Lily turns to her boyfriend. “You always carry one with you, let her borrow it.” He winces. Only during races, sweetheart, not an important event. She rubs her temples, curly hair running against the wind. “Let’s just calm down!” she screeches.
“Not helping,” you wail. “That’s it—I’m leaving.”
Oscar is quick on his feet, already tugging you to stay firm. “We haven't even gotten to the speech!” A familiar fire rushes through your orbs, burning him along the way. I don’t give a shit about that right now! I need to turn this in. 
“I’m sure Charlotte has one,” a friendly voice slides in, leaving you three to turn and face it. Lando awkwardly shrugs. “She’s really well organized, you know her. I’ll be right back.”
“Can I go with you?”
Blue eyes shift over, surprised to hear you speak. Anxiously, you bounce up and down against your heels. He gulps. “Of course.” He turns back to the Australian, who is busy comforting his girlfriend as if it was her grade on the line. “I’ll be right back.”
There’s a sort of tension that hangs steadily—or maybe he’s the only one who thinks so—but he tries his best to push past it. Of course, he was right, and Charlotte did have an extra charger, so that’s quite nice. As if this were the one and only resource of water in a hot desert night, you immediately take it from him, plugging it fiercely.
“You don’t know how grateful I am. You’re an absolute angel.” You’re quick to pick up where you left off. If you try hard enough, you can remember exactly what you need in order to have it done in a few minutes. 
“Glad I could help.”
He should probably leave, he thinks. He’s done all he could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a seat across from you, contently closing his eyes as the sound of your keys brings him to a deep sleep. The sound of a computer shutting gently is what nudges him awake. You grimace. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more quiet.”
Lando scrunches his eyes, rubs them for a couple of minutes. “It’s alright. You done?”
“Yes. Just in time—you really saved my ass, thank you again.”
A large hand waves you off, reclining against his comfortable spot. “You’re pretty dedicated to your work,” he mutters.
“I sort of have to be if I want to graduate on time and on top of my game. All those sleepless nights couldn’t have been for nothing.”
“Well, I don’t really know you that well…but I hope you pass,” he says. “Lando, by the way—you were probably too busy to catch it the first time.” He cocks his head to the side, a cheesy grin playing out. “And the second, as well.”
You giggle, shaking his humid hand. You don’t even seem to mind. “Third times a charm, no?”
“It appears it is.”
-
The objective was quite clear; get you to leave your rotting bed. It was astounding how long you could go without getting up. You always blame it on the fact that—I’m finally done with my most important courses and I can sleep all I want—and—I never wake you up, now do I?
So, naturally, when they march into your room, flashing a phone—you curl a full brow. “What am I looking at?”
Oscar smiles. “Save his number. Right now.”
Lando Norris—winks back at you, digits causing a migraine to stir. You huff, reaching out for the blankets once again. “And why would I do that?”
Lily hums. “I tried to stop him, I really did.”
Beady eyes peek demandingly. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s really just one date—”
“What?”
“And if it doesn’t work out—”
You sit up straight and agitated. “What?”
“...then you won’t ever have to see him again?” The Australian flinches at your cold stare. “He thinks this was your idea…because I told him it was, but…” He winces harder. “Don’t make me look bad and please go!”
Lily squeals when you fling up, hunting him down your flat. “I am going to kill you!”
-
The Brit beams sweetly at you, pinching his hand a couple of times to pump his circulation that was suddenly lacking. “I’m a bit surprised you wanted to see—”
“This was all Oscar’s idea.” He blinks and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I think he does it because the third-wheel act is starting to get to him. Asshole,” you hiss at the thought of the rookie.
Lando coughs, playing with his bracelets. “You’re not dragging me into anything. I want to be here.” Now it’s your turn to stare back at him, caught off guard. He chuckles. “I take it you haven’t gone on a proper date in a while?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Nah,” he yawns. “Oscar told me.”
Pounding your fist against the table, you yelp. “That little—he wants to ruin my life, I see.” You force a tight smile. “I’ve been busy with work…and…I’m—” A flash goes off; you flinch. “A total catch. Like—total.”
Blue eyes flicker to the careful watchers surrounding the restaurant. “I don’t doubt that.”
“Good,” you respond, finally allowing yourself to rest easy. You raise a sharp brow. “Don’t you get tired of this?”
A few murmurs dance across the room, blinding lights continue. He sighs apologetically. “Right now I am. Let’s get out of here?”
You blush. “The bill…”
“My friend owns the restaurant. I’ll pay him later.” He grabs your hand. “Let's go.”
The moment you slip into his car, panic rises fast. “I don’t hook up on first dates,” you spit out. “It’s not in my nature, I-I-I would rather get to know the person—”
“Then let’s get to know one another. I wasn’t looking for anything like…that,” he whispers, timidly. His blue eyes burn against yours. “I only wanted the chance to get to know you now that you don’t have your nose pressed up against a screen.”
A kind smile. “Okay.”
The more you two converse inside his crowded vehicle, the more you find yourself giggling against the rich seat. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Norris.”
“Thank God,” he jokes. “It’s working.”
Another giggle erupts when you nod. You’re sure that you're flustered, burning bright red from all his pick up lines, but you don’t have the strength to look away. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk. For real this time,” you add, sheepishly. 
“So do I.” 
And something inside of him tells him this isn’t the last.
taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Chapter 1 - Wishful Thinking
“AND THAT IS A CHAMPIONSHIP WIN FOR Y/N L/N! THIS MAKES IT THREE BACK TO BACK RACE WINS FOR THE DAMS’ RACER” 
The roar of the crowd is almost deafening. Well, it would be if you could actually hear it. 
“Good job, well done on another season. We couldn't be more proud,” your strategist Stella tells you over the radio. You can only sigh as you raise your hand to wave at the crowds. You don’t even know if they can see, but you try your best. 
You finally reply, “Good work team.” The switch to the radio is flipped back off, you don’t really want to hear anything else. You and your car finally arrive to Parc Ferme and stop right in front of the number 1 sign. It’s a familiar sight to behold. A second home if you will, since most of the season had been dominated by you. 
The steering wheel is turned off and undone and you gently place it down below. Reaching for the hallo, you pull yourself up with a grunt. Standing on the nose, you quickly turn around and raise your fists, earning you multiple cheers and screams. 
Instead of a usual jump, you quickly clamor down and walk to your team. You reach their open arms and are met with the multitudes of pats and hits to your helmet. Your eyes never settle on two specific people that you try to look for. Oh well, they didn’t have to come anyway. It wasn't like you were making history. However, Stella is right in the middle and you give her a giant hug. 
A second sigh is released, but a good one this time. It was more of a relief to be in the arms of one of your closest friends. 
A pat on the shoulder brings you out of your reverie. Turning around, you are met with the helmet of your teammate. 
“Arthur!” you yell and open your arms. It was a P1 – P2 finish for your team for the fourth time this year, the first where Arthur was on the top pedestal. This race not only decided your first championship, but his third second place since becoming your teammate. 
He quickly returned the hug and led you over to the weigh-in stations. After the number had been jotted down by an unknown official, you are finally allowed to take your helmet and balaclava off. Your baby hairs stick to your forehead, but you know your hair is going to get messed up by the champagne in just a few minutes.
“Think I will have a turn next year, non?” Arthur asks with a cheeky smirk, his accent emerging on the last few words. 
"Well, you will have all the chances,” you respond, setting your helmet down on podium. You both make your way to the cool down room and sit in your respective 1 and 2 chairs. 
“And welcome back to the y/n podcast,” Arthur jokes and you take a giant swig of your bottled water. 
“Ah Bearman is late today,” you say, “I guess he got tired of being number 2 guest.” You grin as Ollie walks in a few minutes later. 
“Already started without me?” he asks, watching your impressive overtake in turn 2, which in the end, helped you reach the finish line in a comfortable P1 finish. 
You just shrugged, “You were late.” 
Your eyes were glued to the screen. An impact between Ollie’s teammate Frederik Vesti and Theo Pourchaire had red flagged the race about halfway through. You possibly could have won by 30 seconds, if you had been able to continue and not have a second standing start. 
But oh well, you won anyway. 
A steward came to get you three a couple of moments later. 
She shook her head with a smile, “Why is it always you three?” 
The three of you looked at each other, shrugging. 
It just so happened that the only female, the one who was dominated the F2 world, her teammate, and his best friend almost always found themselves on the three podiums. Most of the time it was her, and others, her teammate, and then the rare sighting of the bear. 
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Well, that was a lie. 
But for now, you wouldn’t want it any other way. Just the three of you. 
Ollie went first, followed by Arthur. 
Then it was your turn to take the middle and highest podium. Taking the trophy from the man, you raised it above your head, fist clenched above. It was truly a sight to behold. Your head was held high as your national anthem blared through the sound speaker, and then the French anthem played for the team. 
Right when the anthem finished, the familiar tune of “Les Toreadors Carmen” began. You quickly picked up your bottle of champagne. Slightly shaking the bottle, you quickly pointed it towards the two boys, who had already started spraying theirs at you. 
Trying to get away, you accidently kicked your trophy off the top step. With wide eyes, you watched at the top popped off, leaving the base and the actual trophy apart. You quickly looked up and saw both the boys pointing and laughing. You stood in amazement and looked around as if to see if anyone had seen it. Who were you kidding though, of course people had seen it and cameras as well. Oops. At least it was your trophy. 
Your hair soon became sticky with the sparkling liquid, your race suit becoming a darker color as it was saturated. You wiped your eyes and you brought the over-sized bottle to your lips. Looking straight into the go-pro, you took a swig and crossed your eyes. 
The F2 page would definitely use that footage later. 
After the celebrations were over, you quickly made your way towards the journalists that were waiting outside of your garage. 
They all shouted your name, wanting to get a quote for whatever paper or website they were writing for. You quickly walked up and grabbed one of the microphones. 
A familiar blond woman spoke up first, “Wow, what an amazing accomplishment you’ve done today. How are you feeling?” 
There was the overused question. 
You took a deep breath before replying, “Ah it was a good run. Not everyone gets an opportunity to do this so I am very happy.” Your smile, however, never really reaches your eyes. 
A man with glasses speaks up next, “I know you must be ready for the break after this history breaking win. Do you have any plans for the upcoming winter vacation?” 
“Well, you know. Just be at home and enjoy it,” you paused before smirking, “And get some more hours in on the sim. Just doing what I normally do when I’m home.” You shrug after you finish. 
They reporters jot down things on their pads of paper. You think that you can finally go back to the comfort of your driver’s room when one more man speaks up. This time with a weird colored tie. 
“Regarding the recent hiring of Bianca Bustamante at McLaren for their Driver Development Program, how are you feeling knowing that a woman, not even in F2, now has a chance to drive an F1 car before you do?” 
Now that question gets you and you pause. 
What? 
You stutter out, “I’m sorry?” 
The man takes a deep breath. “Well I know that you recently projected that you’d be interested in an Formula 1 team as big as McLaren and hoped that you’d be able to get one foot in the door. I mean, you’ve been in F2 for three years now, and you aren’t even a reserve driver?” The man pressed his recorder closer to you. 
Suddenly, the outside felt like it was closing in. Taking a deep breath, you try to answer to the best of your ability. 
“Well, number one, I wasn’t aware that Bianca had been signed, but good for her. There always needs to be more openings for women in motor sports and I’m glad that she got in. Am I disappointed? Sure, but that’s life. My turn will come soon.” 
The man nodded and looked away. 
Seeing as no one spoke up after your statement, you said a quick thank you before handing the microphone to someone else. 
Finally you could retreat back to your room and finally change. 
The minute the door close, you leaned back against it and slid to the floor. Reaching for your phone, you quickly open the Instagram app. Orange upon orange is the first thing you see. 
Headlines of “BUSTAMANTE SIGNS WITH MCLAREN FOR DRIVER DEVELOPMENT” were all you could see. 
Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Of course they would go with her. Much more pretty, definitely meets the CEO’s look of younger drivers, would look gorgeous in papaya. 
All the things you believed yourself not to be. 
You knew it was a long stretch sending an email wanting to discuss future plans with the papaya team. They already had all the reserve drivers they needed, and apparently the development drivers too. 
It seemed like every door for every team was closed at the moment.
Hauling yourself off the floor, you peeled your racing suit off, leaving the champagne soaked material to hang at your hips. 
Walking over to the small desk in the corner, you grabbed your headphones. Connecting them to your phone, the familiar voice of Noah Kahan filled the void. 
You were there for a little more than an hour before someone came looking for you. Not surprised, you let Arthur into your own little paradise. Someplace where the reporters and cameras could not get to you. 
He sat down on your bed while you sat down on the floor. 
He inhaled sharply before speaking. 
“I saw the interview.” 
Your head bowed in defeat. “Yeah.” 
“You know, it’s not true what they’re saying. You deserve a seat and you know this.” 
You nodded. “Well, they don’t seem to think so. What is it going to take Thur? I've already exhausted my options. There's nothing here for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be promoted. I’m not…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. 
Arthur quickly shakes his head before sliding down to join you on the floor. He places both hands on either side of you head and maneuvers you to look at him. 
“Listen to me,” he tells you, accent a little heavier, “you are one of the best drivers of our age. You cannot go bashing yourself when a reporter thinks it good to get a rouse out of you.” 
“Well, I’m no Max Verstappen…or your brother.” 
“And you don’t have to be. All you need to do is be Y/n L/n.” 
He smiled. You only nodded again, soaking in his words. 
After a small bit of silence, you spoke up in a wishful voice, “If you were to sign with any F1 team, which one would it be?” 
He thought for a moment, “I think the answer for me better be Ferrari, to be with my brother. But with their shit season so far, I don’t think I’d want to drive that tractor.” 
You wheezed and held him tight as the giggles shook your body. Arthur could help but join in. After you both calmed down, your breaths were only heard. 
“What about you?” he turns his head, wishful asking. 
“With my luck, I’d also have to drive a tractor,” you cracked a smile. 
“Then we’d be driving tractors together. But I’m serious, which one?” 
You hummed, before silencing. Thoughts scrambling to come up with an answer. Sure, you had dreams. Dreams of papaya, green, teal and black, white and navy, burgundy. But never red as Arthur wishes. 
You finally answer, “I’d take the Bull. Drive a little illegal rocket ship.” 
Arthur huffed. “Are we destined to be rivals Miss L/n? I don’t think the racing world could handle another Leclerc-Verstappen rivalry.” 
“Oh be quiet. I’m not on his level. And besides, if something were to happen, it would be nothing but an inchident…on the race.” 
Now it was Arthur’s turn to sputter and laugh. You decided to disconnect your headphones and let the music fill the small room. 
Placing your head on Arthur’s shoulder, you both let out sighs. 
Wishful thinking, that’s all it was.  
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luvhughes43 · 7 months
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the beginning | jack hughes
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au masterlist⭐️
summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?
warnings: pregnancy
word count: 5.6k
The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 
You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 
All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 
When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 
One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 
“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 
⋆ ★
“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 
“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 
The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 
“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 
“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 
“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 
the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.
“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 
“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 
“It’s time to go,” 
you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 
“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 
⋆ ★
“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 
your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 
your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 
“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.
“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 
Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.
“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.
“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 
“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 
You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..
You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 
You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 
“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”
Jack chuckles, “my bad” 
The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”
“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 
Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 
“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”
“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.
“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.
“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 
“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”
“you moved on your own at 18”
“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 
Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 
“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 
“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”
You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.
“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 
After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 
Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 
You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 
“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 
He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”
“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.
“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 
“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”
Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”
You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 
“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 
You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 
Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 
“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 
Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 
“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.
“But I didn't..” 
“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”
“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 
“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 
“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 
“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 
“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 
Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 
Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 
Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions
You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.
⋆ ★
After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 
“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 
“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 
“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 
“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 
There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 
“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!
“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 
“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 
“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 
“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 
⋆ ★
The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 
Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 
Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 
You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 
“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 
“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 
Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.
“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.
“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 
Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 
You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 
“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.
You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 
“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 
you were falling hard. 
⋆ ★
The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 
Ynuser
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That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 
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After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 
It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.
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You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 
Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 
⋆ ★
The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 
You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.
It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.
You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 
“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.
“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”
“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 
“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 
Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 
A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 
You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 
The drive to your apartment was quiet. 
“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 
“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 
“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 
“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”
Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 
When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 
Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.
⋆ ★
Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 
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“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.
“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”
“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 
Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 
“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 
“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 
Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
⋆ ★
After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 
On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 
“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 
“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 
“Okay… and did she tell you that?”
“I can tell” 
Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 
For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.
“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 
“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 
“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   
“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 
“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.
“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 
“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 
“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 
“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 
Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 
“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 
Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 
“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 
You never called. 
⋆ ★
A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 
“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 
“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 
“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 
“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 
“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 
You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 
“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 
“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 
“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 
“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 
In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 
“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 
“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 
“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”
Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 
“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 
Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.
“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 
⋆ ★
After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 
Amazon: Upcoming Delivery
Hi Yn Ln,
This confirms your purchase from Tampax
Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.
Thank you for using Amazon Pay.
Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.
February
January
December
You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 
Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 
Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 
You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 
“That’ll be $65.24” 
It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 
You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 
You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 
Positive
Pregnant
+
Two lines
⋆ ★
The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 
After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 
You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 
No result. 
You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 
fuck. 
That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 
You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 
jackhughes
unblock
Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 
You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 
It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 
⋆ ★
You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.
Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 
What the fuck were you going to do.
part two
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a-little-unsteddie · 5 months
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stuck in your throat || a/b/o
hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3
again, happy birthday lexi <3
“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls
“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.
“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.
“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”
Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”
“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.
“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.
“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”
“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.
“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.
“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.
“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.
“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”
“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”
Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.
“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”
“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.
“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”
This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.
Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.
“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”
The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.
“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.
“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”
Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.
“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”
Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?
“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.
“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”
Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”
“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”
Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”
“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”
“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.
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shuaflix · 9 months
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kim mingyu's (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (preview)
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PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, smut, humor, some angst, college au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, ft. hoshi, vernon, minghao, jungwoo, this sounds like pwp but i promise there’s plot???, the plot being mingyu’s back muscles, slowburn goes crazy tho it’s at 8k words and they haven’t kissed, anyways sexual content
SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).
RELEASE DATE ▸ out now!
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hi i am deep in mingyu brain rot :') (24/7 actually but it's hitting even harder) so i hope u look forward to this one !! send an ask or comment to be added to the tag list <3
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“STEP ONE,” HE STARTED. “We write down anything we wanna try, and then we approve or veto the options.”
You uncapped the marker and asked, “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“No judgment?”
“No judgment.”
You started writing down whatever desires you had pushed down for years. Albeit short, you figured they covered all the bases. Weeks ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of admitting any of them to Mingyu; now that your relationship with him took a turn, however, it wasn’t so hard to reveal them.
Next to you, Mingyu was shamelessly jotting sex positions down like he had them memorized. You peeked at his list out of the corner of your eye and nearly did a spit take. The first one on your list was kissing, but Mingyu had started off with anal.
Although he agreed to zero judgment, you were finding it hard to feel the same way.
Once you two were done, you stepped back to look at the whiteboard with its two complete lists side-by-side. Mingyu’s list was considerably longer than yours, but you stood by your own. You felt as though yours was more natural, more gradual.
Y/N
Kissing
Neck kissing
Touching
Penetrative sex
MINGYU
Anal
69
Cowgirl
Wall sex
Public sex
Phone sex
He snorted. “Kissing.”
“You said no judgment!”
“I thought it was cute, that’s all,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Anyway, anal?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if your list is exactly beginner level.”
“Well, that’ll just make you an expert by the end of this, won’t it?”
You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “Okay, how about we start with my much more reasonable list, and then we can get to yours once we actually, um… do the deed.”
“You have seriously got to start just saying sex.”
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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months
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"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"
Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room
Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader
Wordcount: 2k
🏎Masterlist🏎
_______________________
“Diamonds are made under pressure.”
This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.
In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.
They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.
This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.
Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.
Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.
After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).
“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?
“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.
“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.
“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”
“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”
Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.
One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.
Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).
The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.
Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.
“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.
“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.
But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.
Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.
“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.
(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.
With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.
Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.
“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.
He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.
“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.
“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.
“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.
You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.
This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”
Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.
Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.
This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.
And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.
“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”
A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.
Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.
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Elementary, Chapter Two
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader
chapter rating: M (no explicit smut but my blog is always 18+ ONLY, just one steamy makeout but the smut show begins next chapter so strap in 😎 as always, i cannot force myself to reread my own writing so this isn’t proofread)
word count: 4.9k
series masterlist | joel masterlist | joel playlist
It was Saturday afternoon, your book club meeting nearly wrapped for the day. You were delighted to see Sarah’s face, half-expecting both her and her father to forget about the meeting, but she was one of the first ones here.
Joel greeted you with a shy wave and a smile as he walked her into the small room in the corner of the library, his grey t-shirt and jeans fitting him far too well.
“Mornin’,” he greeted, both of your eyes trailing away to watch Sarah make a bee-line for the snack table. “That’s my fault, I forgot to make a grocery run.”
“That’s what they’re there for,” you waved off his worry and fixed your eyes on his again.
“I, uh, tried to keep up,” he held up his copy of Sense and Sensibility, surprising you with how far into the book his bookmark rested, not quite where the rest of you were but not too far off. “I don’t know about that Willoughby guy…somethin’ seems off.”
“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled, shifting your weight onto one hip and crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly waited his assessment. Joel cracked a charming half smirk and nodded confidently.
“Yeah. No man is that perfect.” You snorted a laugh and eagerly agreed. “So I got it, then? He’s a bad guy?”
“No comment,” you replied with an untamable grin, something about his presence filling you with a girlish giddiness you hadn’t felt in years.
“Sarah!” Sarah’s new friend, Jessie, squealed when she entered the classroom and spotted her, causing both you and Joel to look over with proud smiles.
“This was a good idea,” Joel turned back to you. “Hadn’t realized how sheltered she was. It’s nice to see her have a friend.”
“We all deserve friends,” you noted.
“You know, if you ever need a friend…I’m right here,” he offered with a shrug, busying his eyes by looking down at the book he was holding.
“Would Sarah be okay with her dad and teacher being friends?” you asked, Sarah’s well-being your ultimate responsibility and priority over whatever you happened to be feeling for her father.
“Yeah, we, uh, talked about it…I may have made a comment about how pretty you are,” he chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s been teasin’ me about it since.”
“Pretty, huh?” you smirked and relished in the blush you brought to his face, his eyes rolling as a husky chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well, Joel, if I ever need a friend, how can I go about getting in touch with you?”
“Right,” he nodded, frantically reaching into his pocket to pull out his flip phone, your lip caught between your teeth as you watched him struggle to find his phone number—of course he didn’t know it by heart. “Alright, you ready?”
You clicked your pen and pulled out your post-it note/bookmark, jotting down his number as he read it out to you.
“Are we gonna start or what?” Harriet snapped from her wheelchair, making both you and Joel laugh.
“I’ll be back to pick Sarah up at eleven,” he tapped his book with yours before walking out of the room, only stopping to place a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before disappearing, leaving your heart longing for more.
Taking a deep, necessary breath, you turned to the group and smiled. “Alright, how far did everybody get this week?”
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“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at your phone so goddamn much since you got the damn thing,” Tommy teased his older brother as they walked around their favorite H-E-B supermarket, Joel determined to surprise Sarah with a fully stocked fridge and pantry for once.
“Yeah,” Joel mumbled as he swore he felt a buzz in his pocket, tugging his flip phone out for the twentieth time since stepping inside the store, hoping to see a message or an incoming call from you.
“That the plummer for the project on 15th Street?” Tommy asked as he loaded a case of Gatorade into the bottom of the cart.
“No, it’s, uh—“ Joel was nervous, having gone so long without having a romantic life that he started to feel like a teenager again, too embarrassed by the weight of his crush to tell anybody. “Sarah’s at her book club so I’m just makin’ sure I don’t miss her call if she needs me to pick her up early.”
“And her ‘pretty’ teacher ain’t got nothin’ to do with that?” Tommy teased with a grin, amused by the look of betrayal and embarrassment on his older brother’s face.
“Sarah told ya, huh?”
“Yep,” Tommy laughed and took over pushing the cart. “You ask her out yet?”
“Not yet,” Joel sighed, the idea of going on a first date at his stage in life seeming ridiculous. What would they even do? Go to a movie? Go out to dinner? It all seemed too…cliche. “What do people even do for dates anymore?”
“Take her to Lady Bird Lake or a museum or somethin’. She’s a teacher, she’ll be into all that,” Tommy suggested. Joel nodded at the advice, making a mental note of it before being interrupted by the first actual ring of his phone all morning.
“Hello?” Joel answered the unsaved number with a hopeful heart.
“Joel?” your voice responded, bringing a smile to his face.
“Hey,” he greeted, sounding more like himself. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chirped, but he could tell there was something you were holding back.
“Sarah’s okay, right?”
“Yes! Sarah’s alright, she’s waiting here with me—“Joel heard his daughter greet him in the background. “The meeting ended a bit early, and I was trying to start my car, but it looks like I have a dead battery. Is there anyway I could get a jumpstart?”
“Oh—yeah,” he mouthed to Tommy that they needed to go checkout, Tommy pushing the cart towards the registers without needing any further instruction. “We’re just checkin’ out at H-E-B, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“Sounds good, thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.
“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for,” he hoped his attempt at playfulness didn’t fall flat, and judging by your chuckle, it hadn’t.
“That and lots of other things.” Joel’s heart sped up as he contemplated the other things. “See ya in a bit.”
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“So,” Sarah started as she sat beside you in your well-used Ford Focus, the two of you reading as you waited for Joel to arrive. “You married?”
You laughed at her bluntness, looking over at her only to see her deadpanning. “No, I’m not married. Not anything.”
“Why not?” You laughed again, this time incredulously.
“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, making you shrug and giggle again as you tossed your hands up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the men I go after.”
“Like my dad?” You blushed and turned back to your book, finally pulling a laugh from the girl much wider than her years. “I think it would be cool if you two started to go out.”
“What makes you think we want to go out?” you challenged with a smirk, trying and failing to erase it from your face.
“I haven’t seen my dad try this hard since…well, ever,” she chuckled. “And both of you always have this stupid smile on your face after you see eachother. I’d say that’s a pretty big tell.”
“You’re too observant for your own good,” you noted as you felt your cheeks creep with heat, embarrassed that she’d caught you.
A few quick honks cut off the conversation, both of you stepping out of the hot car to greet Joel as he and another man pulled up in front of where you were parked. Joel climbed out of the passenger seat with a smile, striding over to both of you with two water bottles in hand, giving you each one.
“Drink up, it’s hot as hell today,” he commanded and both of you obeyed.
“Hey,” his companion stepped out of the drivers side and joined the three of you, giving you a nod. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” you held your hand out for him to shake and he grinned mischievously.
“Likewise.” Your cheeks heated again despite the cold water bottle cooling you down.
“Mind if I pop the hood?” Joel pointed at your car, your head eagerly nodding in response. You watched him closely as he walked over to the drivers side, bending down to find the hood release. His shirt stretched over the broadness of his back, a line of sweat darkening the gray fabric down his spine. With a sudden thirst, you took a healthy chug of your water, hoping it would soothe the fire burning inside of you.
“Thank you guys,” you started as you turned to Tommy, needing to distract yourself from Joel.
“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulder. “How was, uh, book club?”
“Oh!” Sarah chimed, earning a furrowed brow look from her father as he walked over to the bed of the truck to grab some jumper cables. “Can I go over to Jessie’s house tonight? She’s having a sleepover—“
“I don’t know,” Joel exhaled as he returned. “I need to talk to her parents first.”
“I have their number,” you offered, pulling your phone out of your purse. “If you want it.”
“Sure,” he gave you a tired smile and trailed his eyes over your form properly for the first time since he arrived. Your hair that was once freely falling had now been put up, the sweat on the back of your neck causing your hair to stick to your skin in a way that bugged you. Your makeup was probably well into oily territory, your mascara smudged the last time you checked it in the car’s rearview mirror. The only thing half-presentable about you was the sundress you were wearing, it’s floral, cotton fabric flowing in the warm April breeze. “Uh,” he caught himself staring and quickly turned his gaze back to his daughter as he fished out his cellphone. “Here—you can type it in.”
After giving Sarah the phone number, she and Tommy retired back to the cool a/c in his truck, leaving you and Joel alone. An irresponsible thing for the two of you to be.
“Care to show me how it’s done,” you asked, unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him—more attention, more of his voice, more…everything. Being around him made you feel like you were burning alive, and yet strangely enough, the only time relief came to you was when you got closer to him.
“No one ever taught you how to jumpstart a car?” he teased with a smile, glancing over at you as he clamped the metal prongs onto the negative and positive sides.
“Not really,” you chuckled, pointing at the opposite colors. “So black goes on negative and red goes on positive?”
“Yep,” he nodded before pointing at the inside of the car. “Go on and try to start it up.”
“Just start it?” you asked, worried about messing up.
“Yep, like you normally do,” he encouraged you with a smile, watching you as you sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Both of you gasped at the sight and sound of your battery sparking and then smoking. “Shit.” He walked over to the now ruined battery and investigated as you came out to join him. “Wasn’t your fault, my cords must be fucked or somethin’. I’m sorry—just ruined your battery.” He sighed and gave you an apologetic look, but you were quick to brush it off.
“Don’t worry about it,” you placed your hand on his arm and watched as his head turned to look at the contact before locking his eyes with yours. You fought the urge to worship his biceps like your celibate and cavewoman-like hormones were urging you to and pulled your hand away. “I’ll just call a tow truck and have them tow me to an auto-shop.”
“They’ll take you for all you got.” He shook his head and gestured back at the truck. “We can take ya to go get a new battery for almost free.”
“Almost?” you chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, the only payment I ask for is maybe…a date?” He gave you a bashful but hopeful smile as he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe tonight?”
You stared at him with a widening grin, pleasantly surprised by his proposition. You hadn’t thought he’d make the first move, at least not this soon. Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded, your stomach fluttering as you watched him sigh in relief.
“Alright, well, let’s work on gettin’ you a new battery and go from there.” Joel waited for you as you locked your car up and joined him again, following him over to the backseat of his truck. He opened the door for you, giving you that warm smile that was beginning to feel like a drug as you climbed in beside Sarah.
Joel remained outside as he unhooked the cables from their working battery to your dead one, shutting the hood of the truck with a firm slam. He ungracefully hopped into the passenger seat, looking over at his brother.
“Take us down to the Autozone,” he ordered, Tommy glancing back at you with a raised brow and smile as he waited for his brother to use his manners. Joel sighed, “Please.”
“That’s better.”
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It took under an hour to go get your new battery, bring it back to your car, and have Joel install it. As he bid you goodbye, he let you know he’d give you a call once he figures out a time for your date tonight, and you couldn’t help but beam with excitement.
The entire rest of the afternoon was spent going through your closet, taking the longest shower of your life, and fussing with your hair, wanting to be ready if Joel chose to be last minute with your plans—which normally would thoroughly turn you off, but you were weak when it came to Joel.
Thankfully, Joel called at three, asking if you’d like to join him for a walk at Lady Bird Lake. You eagerly accepted the offer, mildly surprised by the unconventional choice in date but not disappointed with it.
As you sat in the living room, you heard a car approach your house and moved to peek through your window, the same dark pick-up truck from earlier rolling into your driveway. You grinned as you watched him hop out of the drivers seat, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He looked so masculine and broad, but there was something in the warmth of his smile, the deepness of his eyes, that showed he was soft, too.
Quickly heading to your front door, you opened it before he could knock, his look of surprise when you swung the door open turning into a smile as he took you in—a sage green wrap dress that fell between your ankles and knees, your makeup soft and complimentary, your smile knee-weakening.
“You look so pretty,” he complimented softly, as though you weren’t meant to hear it. “Uh, got these for you.”
Joel handed you a bouquet of yellow daisies and you gave him a touched frown, kissing your teeth as you pressed the petals to your nose.
“This is very sweet,” you gave him a smitten grin and gestured back into your house. “Let me just go put these in some water. You’re welcome to come in.”
“Alright,” he followed you into your house and down the hall to your kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene as though your home would reveal some hidden secret about you. “This is a nice place.”
“Thanks,” you replied as you filled a vase with water at the sink. “I found it for a really good price last summer, and now the owner’s gonna sell it to me.”
“Take it you like Austin then. You from around here?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter.
“Nope,” you continued to tell him where you were from. “But I do love it here. Besides, I’m getting older. Seems like a good investment.”
“Old,” he repeated with a smirk. “You ain’t nowhere near old. Me on the other hand—“
“You’re what, mid-thirties?”
“33,” he corrected. “But my body is pushin’ seventy.”
“You haven’t heard the way my bones crack when I get up every morning,” you joked, earning a laugh.
“We’ll just have to be gentle with each other, then,” Joel quipped, not taking much time to think before he spoke. He internally cringed at the way you looked away and chuckled awkwardly, scolding himself for his stupid joke.
“Hopefully not too gently.” You shot him a wink and every worry of his faded into oblivion. “Alright, then, shall we?”
“Yeah,” Joel swallowed his desire and walked you out to the truck, helping you into your side before seating himself. “You ever been to the lake?”
“Nope,” you shook your head. “Is it pretty out there?”
“It’s pretty, but you’re gonna give it a run for it’s money in that dress,” he flirted, shooting you a glance and a peek at the smile he was wearing proudly. Your cheeks turned hot at his compliment and you rolled your eyes, grinning like a lovesick teenager.
“You’re a flirt,” you pointed out.
“Me?” He laughed. “I haven’t flirted in…shit, I don’t know how long it’s been.”
“Well, you’re a natural, then,” you nudged his arm with your elbow and felt dizzy by the sparks shooting through your nerves by the simple contact.
“Sarah gave me a run down of things I should and shouldn’t do tonight,” he filled you in.
“Oh yeah? What are the do’s?” you implored with an amused smile, watching his profile as he drove.
“Pay, open doors, and ask questions,” he replied.
“And dont’s?” Joel chuckled and shook his head.
“She said I’m not supposed to kiss you until the second date.” You scoffed and waved that thought away. “You disagree?”
“Strongly,” you answered him with a laugh, Joel laughing along with you.
“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He shot you a wink and you felt like your heart was being shocked back to life. “I haven’t been on a date in so long. You gotta let me know if I’m fuckin’ this up.”
“You’re doing just fine, trust me,” you assured. “I can’t tell you the amount of shitty dates I’ve gone on, so the bar isn’t very high for you tonight.”
“Well, that’s sad,” he chuckled and shot you a lingering look as he stopped at a red light. “Hopefully I can break this streak of shitty dates.”
“I think you’ve already done it,” you laughed. “I mean, I can’t think of a first date that sacrificed hours of his life to replace my car battery on a Saturday afternoon.”
“You’re right, I’m setting the bar high,” he chuckled and shrugged. “Gonna have to change your oil next time just to keep up my reputation, then for the third date maybe rotate your tires—“
“Are these euphemisms?” you asked with mischief in your smile, not knowing the way you made his heart speed up with it.
“You make me nervous,” he admitted with a smile, his cheeks flushed pink. When he turned to look at you, he saw a bitten smirk, his head shaking. “That amuse you?”
“A little,” you nodded.
“Callin’ me a flirt,” he shook his head in mock scolding. “Look at you.”
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After your leisurely walk in the park—the green of the grass and array of colors from the flowers and butterflies swarming in the air just as beautiful as Joel attempted to describe it on the way over—you and Joel found yourselves outside of an ice cream shop, sharing a chocolate and strawberry sundae.
“How are you not terrified every day? I only have Sarah to look out for and I can hardly manage, I can’t imagine a class full of ‘em,” Joel spoke, watching you as you spooned the last bit of the ice cream into your mouth.
“It’s scary at first, but then you develop this sort of bond with them—it just happens naturally, and it makes you feel responsible for them. You know? It’s just like…I feel a responsibility to show them some peace and understanding, because who knows what they have going on at home. I show up for them because I might be the only person that’s doing that, you know?” You shrugged, trying not to read into the way he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, his posture relaxed as he sat back in the metal patio chair. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” He chuckled, amused by your fluster.
“Like that.” You gestured at his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing, giving me those pretty brown eyes—“
Joel’s laugh cut you off, his head shaking. “I’m just listening to you talk, I have no control over my pretty brown eyes.”
“Mmhm,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Whatever you say.”
“I, uh—Sarah’s away tonight. If you wanted to come over—“ Joel watched as you lifted an eyebrow. “Not for that—well, I mean—but I just meant to continue talking. We have a pool—“
“Why didn’t you start with that?” You stood upright and snapped your fingers at him, earning a grin. “Chop, chop, Mr. Miller.”
Joel made a pit stop at your place so that you could change into a swimsuit, throwing your dress back on over it before hurrying back out to the truck. Once inside his house, you found yourself studying the scene much like he had earlier at yours. It felt almost unreal to be in his space, the intimacy of walking the same halls he walked every morning and night turning you drunk.
“Pools out back, I’m gonna grab us some beers.” You nodded at him as he broke off towards the kitchen while you kept forward towards the sliding glass door to his patio.
Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see a rather nice little backyard set up. He draped yellow string lantern lights in zig zags from fence to fence, illuminating the pool and patio table.
“Here you go,” Joel appeared from behind you, handing you a beer before walking over to the table and taking a seat. You joined him, giving him an expectant but playful smirk as you entered a staring match. “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, turning your grin towards the pool. “I’m just having a good time.”
Joel’s chest swole with pride at your confession.
“You wanna get in? It’s heated.” You gave him an impressed up and down, making him chuckle.
“Fancy,” you teased as you stood up, avoiding his eyes as your hands found the knot holding your wrap dress together. Before you could move to untie the knot, Joel’s hands rested over yours, his body now standing tall in front of you. Your eyes shot up to meet his and your breath faltered, his lips just a few inches away.
“May I?” Joel asked for permission as he replaced your fingers on the knot with his own. You gave him a quick nod, your lips parting as you waited with bated breath for him to undress you. Joel slipped the knot undone, the dress falling open. His eyes traveled from your face down the front of your body as he slid the dress off your shoulders, leaving you in just your swimsuit. His hands were quick to touch your skin, a soft gasp spilling from your lips at the fire his skin on yours caused. “You’re too beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” you praised, lifting your hand to cup his bearded cheek. Joel’s lips curled up at the sound of your compliment, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. “Remember that rule we talked about breaking earlier?”
“Uh-huh,” Joel nodded, leaning in to fill the gap between your lips until he was crashing into you, your fingers threading into his hair as you accepted the attack. Joel moaned as you tugged on his hair, walking you back against the table and hoisting you onto the metal. “You taste so sweet, baby.”
“I want you,” you whined, earning a growl of desperation as he licked and sucked his way down to your neck, fighting the urge to leave his mark on you.
“Hey, neighbor?” Joel’s older neighbor called from over the fence, interrupted their heated makeout. He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to gather his composure enough to form a response.
“Yep?” Joel called back.
“Your girl’s locked out, just came knockin’ on our door.” Joel’s brows furrowed and he immediately straightened up, his eyes apologetic as he handed you your dress.
“Thanks,” he called back before placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay,” you assured as you tied your dress, the throbbing between your thighs persistent but the sound of him calling you baby was a more-than sufficient distraction, filling your stomach with butterflies.
You sat back down at the table and waited until Joel came back out, your fingers drawing hearts on the dust covering the table. When you caught yourself, you scoffed, disgusted by the cutesy feelings filling you to the brim, and wiped the table with your palm. Walking over to the edge of the pool, you rinsed the dust off and listened as the glass door slid open.
“Hey,” Sarah greeted, her voice nearly making you fall into the water as you weren’t expecting it. “How was the date?”
You stood up and chuckled, ignoring her question by changing the subject. “How was it at Jessie’s?”
“It was good, just didn’t want to spend the night,” she informed as she sat on one of the patio chairs, swinging her feet.
“Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure what to say to her and desperately wanted Joel to come out to help carry the burden of this awkward tension.
“Using the bathro—“
“Nope,” he interrupted as he stepped outside, mouthing an apology to you as he walked over to her and kissed her head. “Can you go inside for a second?”
“Sure thing,” Sarah gave you a knowing smile as she left the two of you alone, closing the glass door behind her.
“Sorry,” he stepped to you, placing his hands on either side of you face. “Don’t think we’re gonna get to continue that tonight.”
“It’s alright,” you rubbed his chest.
“When can I see you again?” he asked, eyes full of reverence as he looked at you.
“Whenever,” you shrugged, pinching his chin. “I’m free after five every night.”
“I’ll try to talk Tommy into babysitting on Friday.” You grinned at his suggestion and nodded your head. “Lemme grab Sarah and we’ll drive you home.”
“Wait—“ You stopped him before he could get too far, tugging him down for a deep kiss, his arms wrapping around you and squeezing you so tight that you hoped it would last all week until you saw him next, but the minute he let go of you, you already missed him. “One more kiss.”
“One more,” he repeated as he kissed you again, slow, deep, and lingering, the two of you procrastinating. Finally, you gathered the will to pull away, chuckling at your breathlessness. “Alright, if we don’t stop now, I’m just gonna keep on torturin’ myself.”
“Not into that?” you quipped seductively, tilting your head at him as you tucked your hands into the back pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. Joel chuckled and shook his head at you as though you were testing every ounce of his strength.
“I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?” he husked, leaning back in to place a feather-light kiss to your lips as you responded with a grin.
“Your hands are already pretty full, wouldn’t you say?” Joel laughed against you and gave your ass a squeeze, his palms having already been firmly planted there.
“Oh, I like you,” Joel hummed, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. “Here,” Joel handed you his keys before pinching your chin. “Start the truck up and I’ll go get Sarah.”
“Sure thing,” you beamed as you watched him start towards the house, stopping him once more with your voice. “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“I like you too.” You and Joel stood there lovestruck, a chuckle slipping from his lips as he struggled to find the strength to take you back home, not ready for the night to be over. But knowing that the best things come to those who wait, Joel took a breath of patience and smiled.
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
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ladykailitha · 7 months
Text
Fake Boyfriend Part 1
This was going to be an AO3 exclusive until I found out I couldn't do the strikethrough coding for the titles over there and until I think of one that works as well as this one does, it goes here first. There is a second part that will be posted on Tuesday as it got a tad too long for Tumblr (clocking out at over 3k).
Summary: After most of the older teens have gone off to college, Eddie goes over to Steve's to hang out. When he finds Steve on the phone with one of his co-workers, he tells Steve to pretend Eddie is his boyfriend to get the guy to back off via notes on his notebook. It works better than he could possibly dream as the more Steve describes his "boyfriend" the more it sounds real.
***
Eddie let himself into the Harrington mansion like he always did, backpack slung over his shoulder. Steve and he was long since past caring about knocking on each others’ houses’ doors. Bedrooms on the other hand were sacrosanct and closed doors were to be respected at all times, but their houses? Open invitation. Always.
He went straight to the kitchen because if Steve was going to be anywhere in that labyrinthine house of his, it was going to be the kitchen. He entered through the open doorway just as Steve snapped.
“Fuck you!” he growled.
Eddie frowned. “Hey!”
Steve turned and he could see that Steve was on the phone with someone. The other man mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ when he spotted Eddie in the doorway.
“I gave you this number for work purposes only,” Steve continued with a sigh. “I’m just not interested in you, Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Understanding slowly dawned over Eddie. He knew who Steve was talking to now. Caleb worked at the same hair salon Steve did and was constant thorn in Steve’s side. Always flirting with him and just generally making Steve uncomfortable.
He ripped the backpack off of his shoulder and started digging around. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He turned to a blank page and wrote: TELL HIM YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND
Steve looked at the sign with a frown of confusion. ‘But I don’t’ he mouthed back.
Eddie pointed at himself.
Steve chewed on his thumb for a moment before he nodded. “Caleb!” he said interrupting the other man’s stream of consciousness that he was just spewing at Steve on the end of the line. “Look. I didn’t want to have to pull this card because ‘no’ is a complete sentence, but I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie gave him a thumbs up.
“I haven’t brought him up before because he’s not out–”
Eddie scoffed, smirking with a raised eyebrow.
“I mean we’re not out as a couple to our friends and family,” Steve amended, sticking his tongue out at him. “Of course they know I’m bisexual and he’s gay, they just don’t know that we’ve been dating.”
That was certainly true, especially considering that they weren’t actually dating.
Eddie scribbled another note: WAYNE
“Well,” Steve said with a huff of laughter, “his uncle knows, but my parents don’t.”
Eddie started on another note, but Steve beat him to it. “It’s a small house and thin walls, the dude was going to find out sooner or later.”
Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.
Steve laughed. “And have my parents walk in on us? Fuck that. I trust his Uncle Wayne way more than I do my parents.”
Eddie looked down at the half-written message that would have spelled out TRUST with a fond smile on his face.
Steve rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you want me to prove he exists? Like describe him or something?”
Eddie jotted down another note: PERSISTANT BASTARD
Steve slammed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that bubbled to his lips.
He cleared his throat. “So are we talking looks or personality?” he asked. “Because I could go on about both.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, causing Steve’s cheeks flush.
“Looks?” Steve asked, his voice a little high at the absurdity of it all. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. He’s got the most amazingly soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen outside of the movies. I’ve heard people describe them as doe-eyed or puppy-dog eyes. They aren’t bad descriptions, just... not close enough. I don’t think there is a word or phrase that matches their glory.”
Eddie shoved his hair in front of mouth to hide his embarrassment. Steve took a step toward him.
“He has long hair in soft curly locks that frame his face,” Steve continued and Eddie dropped the aforementioned lock, choosing to duck his head, and look away, rocking back on his heels.
Steve took another step forward. “He has these dimples that just light up his whole countenance when he smiles. They are the single most kissable part of his face, if you don’t include his lips.”
Eddie’s mind was spinning out of control, because there was no way Steve was making this up on the spot. These had to be things Steve had actually thought about.
But Steve wasn’t done talking. “He’s whipcord thin, but don’t let that fool you. He is strong, so strong.”
Eddie head jerked up and stared at Steve in amazement.
The other boy ducked his head, twirling his fingers around the phone cord. “I told you could go on and on about his looks, man. I could tell you about how long his eyelashes are or his legs that give him this causal sensuality that should be fucking illegal.”
Eddie didn’t think he could get any redder. He was so, so wrong.
“You want me to wax poetic about his personality now?” Steve asked incredulously. “No, I’m not describing Jon Bon Jovi. He’d be offended at the comparison. Eddie Van Halen is closer to the mark, or maybe Kirk Hemmett if you really make him blush.”
Cue Eddie’s blush burning his ears and flushing his throat; a part of his body that was refusing to do what it was supposed to and fucking allow breath to enter his lungs.
“What’s he like?” Steve breathed and Eddie was instantly jealous of his ability to do so. “He is so smart.”
Eddie snorted divisively.
“The school system may have failed him more times then I care to count,” Steve insisted, “but god, he is so clever, coming up with stories on fly. He has all this knowledge of so many things. He learned elvish and is learning dwarfish.” He snorted. “Because he can.”
Eddie blushed. Even his friends from Hellfire and Corroded Coffin thought he was a little insane trying to learn those languages. Not Steve, apparently.
“He uses it for his D&D games–campaigns, sorry,” Steve said, more to Eddie then to Caleb. Eddie mouthed ‘It’s okay.’ And Steve lit up with the brightest smile.
He took another step forward. “You know those kids that come into the store all the time?” Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, my kids. He loves them as much as I do. Maybe even more.”
Eddie scrambled to write another note: NOT POSSIBLE
Steve blushed this time. “Understands them better, certainly.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. That was fair.
“He DMs for them every week,” Steve continued. “DM? Oh that stands for dungeon master. It’s like the storyteller or master of the story. He sets the path for the characters to follow or blatantly ignore.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh.
“He does the voices for each person the party meets and it always makes me laugh,” Steve said. “My favorite is the voice he did for the princess. I don’t think there was a dry eye from all the laughing everyone was doing.”
Eddie grinned. That was his favorite, too. He had done it to make Steve laugh, the fact that it had made everyone else laugh too was just icing on the cake.
“Which, of course, impressed Dustin,” Steve said. He paused. “Oh Dustin is the one with curly hair and those hats.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. That’s another strike against this Caleb dude, not knowing the names of Steve’s kids. Like they came as a packaged deal. Everyone knew that.
Steve cleared his throat and looked down as he too felt Caleb’s disinterest keenly as well. “Anyway, anyone who can impress that little butthead is number one in my book.”
Eddie smiled tenderly at Steve before he jotted down a note again. YOU IMPRESS HIM TOO.
Steve blushed. “He can take his talent for story telling into song writing as well. He might not be the singer of his band–” There was another pause. “Yeah, an honest to god, plays at The Hideout every Tuesday metal band. He plays guitar. Lead, not rhythm. His best friend Jeff is rhythm guitar and their lead singer. He can read music and learn a song by ear. Do you know how fucking rare that is? To be able to do both? Trust me, it’s rare, okay?”
“Look, Caleb,” Steve growled, “don’t get pissy with me. You asked me describe my boyfriend. I warned you that I could go on and on.”
Eddie could barely breathe. This was starting to feel less like an excuse to get this asshole to stop harassing Steve and more and more real with every compliment that came out of his friend’s mouth.
Steve’s own breath caught in his chest. He looked directly at Eddie, so full of adoration, Eddie was sure his heart full on stopped.
“Yeah, of course I do,” Steve murmured, “of course I love him. God, how could I not. He means everything to me.” He tried to step forward but the cord got caught in his fingers, so he unwrapped it and took a final step toward Eddie. The cord was now taut, stretched as far as it could go.
Eddie could tell that the scant two feet between them was too far for Steve, but he was tethered to phone. He knew that that ache and longing in Steve’s face mirrored his own expression.
“And I am so grateful I get to call him mine...” Steve finished, his breath shallow as he fought to get his heart rate under control.
Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst
***
Part 2
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coff33notforme · 1 year
Note
PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE A WALLY DARLING X READER (ROMANTIC) WITH A NON VERBAL READER? NO PRESSURE THO X3
A/n: Yes of course Anon! This was a super cute idea and I really enjoyed writing it!
Disclaimer: Once again this might be inaccurate to the experience of everyone who is non-verbal, I mostly based this off of how my friend who is non-verbal communicates, so if this isn't true for everyone thats why!
Pairing: Wally Darling and Gn Reader (Romantic!)
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When Wally first met you, he was inclined to greet you with an over the top introduction, so when you responded in silence it threw him off
Did you feel overwhelmed by his greeting? Were you uncomfortable? Or maybe just shy?  
But he was snapped out of his thoughts when you you gave a gentle wave, a concerned look on your face 
Wally smiled, letting out a breathy laugh
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m Wally, and you are?” he paused hoping you would say something, but much to his surprise you instead reached into the bag that hang on your hip, pulling out a notepad of some sort before you jotted something down
Before you flipped the notepad around
‘I’m Y/n, it's nice to meet you’
Wally smiled, before he continued, telling you about his friends and neighborhood
Over time Wally will become more comfortable with asking questions about you being non-verbal, he didn’t want to get all up in your face about it the first time he met you of course but since your much closer now, it doesn’t seem inappropriate
If you have any other preferred method of speaking other than writing things down Wally would be happy to help you feel more comfortable using them around other people
Like Sign language, or if you have a tablet that you use to communicate, anything you want  
Even though you don’t speak to Wally using your words, he's become very good at picking up on cues you give him that signal your behavior, as well as reading your body language to know how your feeling 
When you first met your other neighbors, Wally had simply remained quiet, something rare to see from the usually energetic, puppet letting you introduce yourself to them with your notepad. It was clear from their expressions that they were confused
You turned to Wally expecting him to say something, but he simply returned your stare, moving his hands, signaling you to continue
You sighed, flipping the page to jot something else down, then you turned the notebook again
‘Hi, I’m y/n, I’m non-verbal, so I won’t be using my voice to communicate with you, I hope we can all become good friends.’ 
You glanced to Wally nervously, but he offered you a supportive smile, giving you a thumbs up
“That's so cool!” Julie shouted waving her arms enthusiastically, you gave a small smile
“How else do you speak? Do you just write?” Sally quipped curiously
You stepped back a little, feeling overwhelmed by the flood of questions being thrown your way
Until you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder, Wally! 
You completely forgot he was here, he offered you a lazy smile
“Now, we don't want to overwhelm our guest here, do we?” 
Julie and Sally shook their heads, as you gave a meek smile
“Then we'll be on our way for now, see you two later.” he spoke, before turning on his heel walking away with you in hand
You turned to Wally arching an eyebrow at him
“What?” 
You looked to him and then back at your neighbors behind you, you flipped your notebook up, writing something down again before showing it to wally
‘Why didn’t you say anything when we were talking to them?’
Wally gave out a low hum
“Because I know you can talk for yourself, you didn’t need me to say anything for you, and they loved you!” he exclaimed, you felt your cheeks become warm as you smiled
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Feel Free to Drop me some more Welcome home requests!
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hwaslayer · 3 months
Text
project: make you love me (jyh) | fourteen.
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 3.8k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa in the whole flashback scene!!, kissing/making out hehe, late night food run with yeo and yuyu, some overthinking..
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"Wait." Yunho whines softly as he gently grabs at your wrist, pulling you back towards him before you could walk into the science building.
"Yunho." You playfully whine. "I literally have 2 seconds to get my ass upstairs to class."
"Well, I don't necessarily have literature with you anymore, so.." Yunho smirks. "Sorry I just want a few more kisses from my girlfriend since I won't see her until tonight."
"You're too much."
"And you're not?" He teases with a chuckle. You tippy toe to give him another kiss on the lips, Yunho chasing your lips as soon as you break the first one. You giggle against his lips, playfully pushing him back on his chest.
"I'll see you later."
"Mhm." He smiles, adjusting the hood over his head. "Have a good day, love."
"You too." You give him one last wave before you walk off to your class. 
During class, you do your best to focus on your professor; taking notes as you try to keep up with the pace of the class. You can't help but daydream in between about your man, how well break treated you and your friends— though, there were a few other things occupying your mind as well.
But as of right now, you already miss Yunho.
You shift your thoughts to how the night could go, how excited you are to see him and spend time with him after a long day of classes and practice. Class ends up finishing rather quickly, especially as the last half took place with the group activity you had to do. You run to your next class, shooting your friends a quick text in the group chat to see who else has a quick break afterwards.
you: friends, who has a break in the next hour or so?
chaery: me!
you: okay, i'll meet you at the cafeteria? gonna quickly eat before my next class.
chaery: you got it bae!
You find yourself daydreaming a bit more during your Healthcare Ethics class, the majority of the class picking back up on the debate that occurred last week. Yunho sends you a quick text to tell you he hopes you're doing okay in class, following up with his usual 'i miss you' and 'can't wait to see my baby' texts. You smile to yourself as you jot down a few interesting words and phrases that come up during the debate, stringing out your notes enough to help you remember the details for your homework later.
Your professor dismisses your class about 10 minutes early, causing you to dash over to the café and take all the extra time you can get to scarf down some food before the last half of the day occurs. You order some soup and fruits to get you by, sitting at the last free corner table in the café. It's not long before Chaery walks in and grabs a small salad bowl to eat, settling in front of you with a heavy sigh.
"God, what a day already."
"Tell me about it." You pout.
"How's class been?"
"Class is class. I just can't wait until the rest of the day is over. Then we can finally grub on some good food and I can see Yunho."
"Aw." She giggles. "No, same. My schedule isn't as packed this time around, but I still feel swamped or whatever."
"Seriously."
"Is Yuyu in class?"
"Mhm. He's pretty swamped, too."
"I bet. Graduation is gonna come in no time." You nod. "By the way, have you told him already?"
"No. I just haven't gotten to it." You shrug. "It just never feels like the right time."
"I know, I get that." Chaery rests her chin on the top of her hand. "But, Seonghwa hasn't bothered you since then, right?"
"Nope."
"Maybe he finally got the fucking hint."
♣︎ FLASHBACK
"Yunho sent you roses even though he was with us all weekend?" Seungmin swings his keys around his finger as he's the first to make it to the door. Your group just arrived back home after the weekend in the snow, Yunho immediately heading to his apartment to unpack and rest after the drive.
"What're you talking about?" You catch up, with Chaery and Soobin trailing shortly behind.
"Those are roses, no?" Seungmin raises a brow, pointing at the rose bouquet sitting at your doorstep.
"Yes, but I don't think this was Yunho." You pick up the bouquet, reading the small card sitting in the middle. 
"Why wouldn't it be Yunho, though? Who else would it be, babe?" Chaery smiles. "What a dream boat, spoiling his girl even—"
"It isn't Yunho." Your expression changes when you read the card, letting out a deep sigh. Seungmin slowly unlocks the door, grabbing your bags and gently setting them inside the house. Soobin follows his lead and takes Chaery's bags from her hands while the two of you continue to inspect the roses.
Y/N, I'm sorry, and I miss you. Please give me a chance to prove it. - Hwa
"What the fuck? Is he actually crazy?" She holds the card up. "Y/N, you need to toss those."
"But, they're roses." You frown a bit.
"Which aren't even your favorite flowers!" Chaery furrows her brows. "You're not seriously thinking about keeping them, are you? Seonghwa sent these to you. If Yunho sees them, he'll be upset. Rightfully so."
"I have to agree." Seungmin shrugs. "It's weird. Something tells me he's only doing it because you two are a thing now."
"Not one genuine bone in that body." Soobin chimes in as he kicks his shoes off to the side before fully stepping into the apartment. "He had all that time to give you flowers and decided now would be the best time? 
"Y/N." Chaery calls your name a little more sternly this time and you let out another sigh before nodding.
"Yes, I hear you, I hear you." You repeat. "You're right."
"I'll walk you to the dump so we can get rid of that for good and keep it out of sight." She links her arm with yours, leading you to the dumpster across the lot. "Why were you thinking about keeping it?" She asks you softly, a look of concern in her eyes.
"Truthfully, I don't even know. I never expected this from him, so it threw me off guard."
"You don't actually think he'd change, do you?" You look at her with a pursed smile.
"No."
"Good, because I agree. You can't change someone like him." She gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "You're happy with Yunho, aren't you? You glow every time you're with him. He is so, so good to you. He's always been."
"I am, that's not even a question. I just, I don't know. I wasn't thinking, that's all." You get to the dump and toss the bouquet over, giving Chaery a small smile.
"Can't forget this little piece of shit." She rips the card and tosses the pieces into the dumpster. "Are you gonna tell Yuyu?"
"I don't know, does it matter? It's not like it's gonna mean anything."
"I don't know, I think you should. It might seem like you're hiding something from him even though you're not."
"Yeah." Is all you say before the two of you climb back up to the apartment and step inside.
♣︎ END
"I saw him earlier, but he just looked at me and walked past." Chaery adds before taking the fork to her mouth. "His hair got kinda longer."
"Yeah, I saw that." You sigh. "I just don't get what he wants. Apparently him and Hyeri are actually a thing."
"I haven't really seen them together on campus, though." Chaery shrugs. "He's probably pulling the same shit, let's be real. All I know is that you and Yunho are the cutest couple I've ever witnessed." You blush.
"Yunho." You softly say his name and shake your head. "Sometimes, I just wonder how I got lucky with him."
"You're so cute." She giggles. "Are you staying there tonight?"
"Yeah, but I told him we were having our dinner."
"Cute. Are your mom and sister still coming to have dinner with you guys this weekend?"
"I think so."
"What class do you have next?"
"Biostatistics, then seminar before practice."
"I guess I'll see you at practice then? I have to study for physio." You nod as you both clean up, gathering your things before heading out of the café.
"Where are the boys right now?"
"Soobin's at the library, and Seungmin is in class. I just don't remember what." 
"Hm." You hum, passing the library and slowly prying yourself from Chaery. "I'll see you later then."
"Have a good class, learn something!" You give her a tiny smile before you head to your classes for the day.
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The day ends up feeling a lot longer, busier, than you expect. It's probably due to all the assignments and in-class projects that you've already had to work on, making it feel like an incredibly productive day. At least time flew by, but you wish you could crawl into bed with Yunho and cuddle up to him. You already feel mentally exhausted even though the semester barely started.
When you get to practice, you and your friends take some time to stretch and warm up before Hyunjin starts to teach the beginning parts of the piece you'll be performing at the big spring fair and night market in downtown. After getting the first two 8 counts down and running it a few times, Hyunjin calls for a quick break before running it in groups to solidify the moves. Yeonjun and Jongho plop onto the floor next to you, watching Chaery and a few other people run through the piece slowly. You sip your water, scrolling through your social media while Yeonjun does the same; Jongho being the first to break the silence.
"Dude, isn't this semester kinda crazy already?" You shrug.
"Mm, yeah. It's okay. I just miss break."
"Break was fun. The snow was hella fun." Yeonjun smiles at you. "Yunho's so cool."
"Yeah, isn't he?" You giggle.
"It was fun having him around. He's easy to get along with." Jongho adds. "Can I say it?"
"Say what?"
"I'm glad you broke things off with Seonghwa."
"Same." Yeonjun adds. "Love you though, you know that right?" You laugh.
"Mhm." You purse your lips into a fine line before letting out a breath. "He sent me flowers when we got back from the snow."
"Ew, why?" Jongho furrows his brows.
"I don't really know."
"Does Yunho know about it?"
"No."
"He should." Jongho says. "He should so he could whoop that ass."
"I thought he was dating Hyeri?" Yeonjun questions.
"Dating is a very heavy word when it comes to Seonghwa."
"True."
"Let's finish up!" Hyunjin calls out, letting the music play in the background while people slowly start to make their way back to the center of the floor.
After practice, you and your roommates head home to get freshened up and have dinner together. Seungmin orders some fried chicken and sides that get delivered in the next 20 minutes— all of you sitting at the table, talking about how your new classes have been. It's nice that you've finally been able to have dinner together since everyone seems so busy with the semester already. The boys end up finishing the last few pieces of chicken, along with inhaling the side dishes while you and Chaery clean up in the kitchen. You head to your shared room, packing up a few things while Chaery sits at her desk to continue where she left off with studying. 
"Can you text me when you get there?"
"I'm walking across the lot." You snort.
"Still! Let me know. I have to make sure you arrive safely." You smile and throw your arms around her from behind, giving her a small kiss on the head.
"I will."
"I love you, have fun. Say hi to Yunho and Yeosang for me."
"I will. Don't sleep too late."
"You too!" She blows you one last kiss, making you giggle as you leave the room. 
"Alright, I'm off!" You give Soobin and Seungmin a wave before heading out of the door. The night is cold, crisp; you can still see your breath in the air. You're excited to finally see Yunho since you haven't been able to respond or give him much attention today. You shoot Chaery a text as you head up the steps to his building, finding yourself at his door in the next few seconds. 
"Hello?" You hear Yunho on the other line, along with the echo of his keyboard.
"I'm outside."
"Oh shit, you are?" He asks excitedly. "Okay, I'll be there in a few!" You giggle as you end the call, shifting your weight back and forth as you wait for Yunho to answer the door. And as promised, he does come to the door— a huge smile on his face.
"Hi." You smile as you wave, Yunho swooping you into his arms.
"It's about time." You laugh. "I missed you."
"I know. Our dinner went on for awhile, we were just catching up about school." You step out of your shoes and head into his room. "Did you eat?"
"Yeah, not too long ago." You set your bags aside and help yourself to his crewneck to change into. "What'd you guys eat?"
"Fried chicken. All that good stuff."
"Yum." He sits on his computer chair, watching as you get your things together. "Do you have to study?"
"Yeah, already." You roll your eyes. "We're getting another small quiz next class." You plop onto his bed. "Are you playing with Yeo?"
"Yeah, I was." He scratches his temple. "Err, I will be again soon." You laugh.
"Okay."
"Let me know if I'm too loud, though."
"It won't bother me."
"Still. Just tell me if I'm annoying."
"You won't even be able to hear me, silly." 
"Come sit on my lap." You playfully shake your head as Yunho wiggles his eyebrows and puts his headset back on; already furiously clicking away at his keyboard as soon as they slip on. You finish up a few other smaller assignments before pulling out your Global Environmental Health textbook to start going through the two incredibly lengthy chapters you've covered in class.
Yunho turns over his shoulder, smiling to himself seeing you studying on his bed. He loves the way his crewneck swallows you, the way you awkwardly sit with one leg stretched and the other folded in; diligently taking notes as you go through the textbook. 
"We're taking a break, right? Cool." Is all you hear Yunho say before he's suddenly in front of you with a smirk on his face.
"Hi." You giggle.
"Hey." Yunho leans over to kiss you.
"What're you doing?"
"Just wanted to steal a few kisses." His next kiss continues to deepen, tongue slipping in to dance around with yours. He gently bites on your bottom lip, causing you to release a small moan in response. Yunho doesn't quit, even when Yeosang comes knocking on the door— softly calling out for Yunho.
"Baby, the door." You giggle and mumble against his lips while he continues to repeatedly kiss you.
"Are you guys decent?" Yeosang softly knocks on the door again.
"Yeah!" Yunho bites onto his bottom lip, slowly prying his eyes off of you before shifting his attention to Yeosang peeking into the room. "What's up?"
"I'm kinda craving incredibly bad junk food. You guys wanna come along?"
"Where?"
"McDonalds, probably. Since it's the closest."
"I'm down." Yunho looks at you.
"I could go for an ice cream cone and fries." Yeosang chuckles.
"That's all?" You nod happily.
"I just need to throw on some pants."
"Oh." Yeosang looks down and backs away from the door. "In that case, I'll be in the kitchen." He shuts the door, making Yunho laugh.
"What?" You look at him as you shut your books close and hop off his bed. "I do need to put on some pants."
"I know. Wish you didn't have to." You feel Yunho's hands come up inside of your sweater, giving your hips a squeeze.
"We're just going to get food, silly." He laughs after placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, throwing on a jacket.
"Yeah. Not my fault you drive me crazy, though." You give him a look just as the both of you leave the room to meet Yeosang in the kitchen. 
"Pants are on. Nice." Yeosang grabs his keys. "Lehhhgo!" You trail behind Yeosang, while Yunho walks behind you. He quickly locks the door and catches up to you two, overhearing your conversation about practice and how there's another performance your group is planning to do in a few months. You're currently telling Yeosang how it'll be bigger than the one your group did before the last semester ended, and how Yeonjun and Hyunjin are freaking out about it even though there's 'time.' 
"I don't know. They just don't know if we'll be able to come up with something new and better in time."
"You guys will." Yeosang looks at Yunho just as he unlocks his car door. "Why don't you do a little couple piece with Yunho or something?"
"Oh, yeah!" You slide into the backseat, buckle in and lean over towards the middle console. "Babe, he's got a point."
"Um, no. He doesn't." Yunho laughs. "I definitely don't dance."
"I know it's in you."
"How would you know that?"
"The party." You snort.
"Yeah, and when I taught you some steps, you got them down so easily. 
"Doesn't mean I dance?! Maybe I just got lucky during those times." 
"Oh, please." Yunho laughs. "I think it'd be cute. You guys should think about it. Add a little something in there."
"It would be fun! Maybe we can do our own thing for something down the long run, too." You smirk.
"Getting ahead of yourself." Yunho chuckles as he boops the tip of your nose.
"Fine, I won't force it." You give him a soft smile, leaning onto his shoulder as Yeosang continues to drive to McDonalds. "Just saying it would be fun." You mumble.
"That'll be something for Seonghwa to see." Yeosang snickers. "Sorry, I don't mean to bring him up, but I can't forget the way he was looking at you two during the tree lighting."
"Yeah, well." Yunho shrugs. "I hope he moves on." Seonghwa, you think. You still haven't told Yunho about the roses and how he had texted you a few weeks back. It's not that you didn't want to— you were just scared, and you weren't sure when the right time would be. Granted, you should've told him as soon as it happened, but it genuinely would slip your mind because Seonghwa was such an after-thought. Would it matter if it didn't really mean anything to you? "Babe." Yunho calls you, making you snap out of your thoughts.
"Hm?"
"You sure you just want ice cream and fries?" Yeosang asks just as he lowers his window at the drive-thru.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry."
"What were you thinking about?" Yunho asks softly as Yeosang begins the order.
"Nothing, just trying to organize my studying plans in my head."
"Mm." Yunho hums before placing a chaste kiss to the side of your head. Yeosang finishes up the order and pulls up to the first window to pay, with Yunho wiring him some money for yours and his half. Yeosang gently hands you your ice cream cone before handing Yunho the huge bag of food. "Want your fries?"
"Yes, please." Your man hands you your small fries. "Hey, so. Aren't you guys prepping for graduation already?"
"Mm, not really. I mean, they've given us key dates to look out for. But, that's it."
"Are you guys excited?"
"Excited to be thrown into the real world? Nah. Not really." Yeosang laughs. "I've started looking at some internships I could do, or keeping an eye out for places I'd wanna apply to as time gets closer."
"Same."
"Are you guys planning to stay in the apartment for awhile?"
"I guess it depends on where we both find ourselves when the time comes. I'd be down to if it allows."
"Yeah, I agree."
"Or else, it's probably back home for a bit." Yeosang shrugs. "Which, I love my family. Don't get me wrong. But, I definitely don't wanna stay there forever." He looks at you quickly through the rear view mirror. "You're gonna be a senior before you know it."
"Yikes." You giggle. "Not looking forward to it. I think I'll have more of my difficult classes piled next year."
"You'll be fine, Y/N."
"You guys have to come visit us?"
"Yeah. We'll probably be at your apartment more than you think." You laugh.
"Chaery will love that."
"I like your friends. They're good people."
"They are. And fun. I don't know where I'd be without them." You dip your fry into your ice cream. Sooner or later, Yeosang pulls back into the apartment lot and parks in a free spot. Yunho opens your door and lets you out first before following behind you. Yeosang invites him to hop onto another game on Valorant, making you giggle to yourself as they playfully bicker about the last round they had played. 
After washing up in the bathroom again, you head back into Yunho's room and you slip out of your sweats; comfortably taking your spot back on his bed in front of your books. As Yunho and Yeosang finish up in the kitchen, you continue where you last left off— trying to get the most of your studying for tonight.
"I'll hop on in a minute." Yunho says before closing the door. "Baby."
"Yeah?" You look up at him as he leans forward for a kiss.
"Studying some more?"
"Gotta keep up, babe." You chuckle as he kisses you again.
"Can I distract you for just another minute or so?" He asks lowly, pressing his lips to your cheek.
"I think I can spare a minute." You giggle, watching as Yunho pushes your books aside and crawls in between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck, his large hands coming up your sweater. He fiddles with the band of your panties, thumb brushing over your clothed core in between kisses. 
"Yeo is waiting for you." You slightly whine, trying not to get too distracted by Yunho's touch.
"I know, thats why I told him I needed a minute." Yunho laughs before he looks you in the eye. "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure you were just thinking about studying earlier?"
"Mhm." You caress his cheek with your thumb.
"Okay. I just hope you know you can come to me for anything."
"I know, love."
"Good." He kisses your forehead. "Let me know if you need anything."
"I will." Yunho walks over to his computer chair and taps his lap.
"You're always welcome to take breaks here."
"Shut up." You shake your head and laugh, bringing your books back to you. You contemplate on telling Yunho right then and there, but you're still not sure why it doesn't feel like the right time, or why you're scared. You don't wanna ruin the mood, and you don't want to make him upset.
So, you brush it off for another day. Hoping you're just overthinking the whole situation.
Besides, Seonghwa must have gotten the hint when you never replied, when you never brought up the flowers. You didn't wanna give him the time and attention he was trying to get from you, nor did you wanna give him the wrong idea.
You really just hope it blows over and that Seonghwa finally moves on, leaves you and Yunho alone. He's had all that time to change and now, it was too little, too late. You're happy, and you hope Seonghwa isn't selfish enough to get try and get in between that.
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♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunholuvrsblog @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @yungigiggles
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nanowrimo · 5 months
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4 Ways To Cure Writer’s Block
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Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. NovelPad, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a novel drafting software designed to make it easy for writers to write. Today, they're sharing a few tips to help you beat writer's block:
NovelPad loves NaNoWriMo because we have the same goal: Helping authors get the thing done!
Starting a book is usually fun and easy—your fingers dance across the keyboard as you explore an exciting world, meet your characters, and stir up intrigue for the coming plot. But once you get into the weeds of how that all works, and how you and your characters get from Point A to Point B, you might find yourself losing momentum. You might find yourself so encumbered with obstacles that you might get a case of the dreaded writer’s block.
The very good news is that writer’s block isn’t terminal, and I certainly don’t think writer’s block is as enigmatic as some people seem to think. I believe it’s actually quite a simple problem, and usually due to one of a few common factors. Let’s look at four ways you can push yourself through your case of ye olde block.
1. Check in with yourself.
Step one is always to check in with yourself. 
Start by reviewing your basic self-care needs:
Are you staying hydrated?
Do you feel hungry?
Would a shower or a nap be beneficial?
Is it time for a walk or some stretching exercises?
Consider your environment as well. Maybe you need:
Noise-canceling headphones
A change of scenery
A babysitter or someone to help around the house
To open or close some windows
Next, evaluate your level of focus. Is your mind wandering elsewhere? It can be useful to create a "dump list" to jot down anything that's causing you stress, such as work-related issues, pending tasks, or upcoming events. Setting that list aside can give you the tangible feeling of pushing those things off your desk to worry about later.
Once your body, mind, and environment are sorted out, you'll likely discover that writing becomes a bit easier!
2. Look back at where you’ve been.
Even if the first tip did or did not do the trick, let’s take a look at the project itself.
Sometimes writer’s block is a blessing in disguise! Your creative gut might be telling you that something went awry. Try reading your project back and pinpointing where it became difficult to keep going. Consider alternate plots or paths to get your writing flowing again.
If you're managing multiple plots and subplots, identifying the moment you deviated from the main path can be quite challenging. To pinpoint which plot line is causing issues, you can take advantage of NovelPad's handy feature: Plot tracking.
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On the Plot Board, you can review every scene of a particular plot in order, making spotting those errors in your plotlines much easier.
3. Rewrite a problem scene.
Once you've identified the scene causing issues, it's time to make improvements! This can be challenging because there are countless ways to approach a scene.
However, don't hesitate to embrace revisions. Often, a scene benefits from a thorough rewrite. With NovelPad Revisions, you can save limitless scene revisions, compare them side by side, and effortlessly switch to the one they want in the live manuscript. This keeps your different versions safe, well-organized, and readily accessible.
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4. Freewrite to free yourself.
Freewriting is a great way to get your creativity flowing again. Write some poetry, compose a letter to a friend, or simply let your thoughts flow without judgment. Freewriting without judgment can help turn on your writer mode and even help you solve some problems! It's especially beneficial when you're stuck on something specific, because we often find brilliant solutions when we stop being so critical of our ideas.
Kick writer’s block off your desk with NovelPad! It's free to use throughout NaNoWriMo, and we offer discounts to participants and winners afterward. If you find that NovelPad isn't your cup of tea by the end of November, don't worry—you can still access and download your project at any time. Just write!
Our team at NovelPad believes in making it easy for writers to complete their books. That’s why we built an uncomplicated, intuitive system that stays out of the way until you need it! We want writers like you to #JustWrite without burdening you with excessive features. Speaking of features, software updates at NovelPad are based entirely on user feedback from authors to keep our features sharp, relevant, and minimalist.
All NaNoWriMo participants have access to a 15% discount on NovelPad with code WRIMO2023 — use the code during checkout to redeem your discount. Offer expires April 1, 2024.
Top photo by Richard Dykes on Unsplash.
216 notes · View notes
wintaerbaer · 1 year
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things we don’t say: part 1 (kth)
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banner credit goes to the absolutely incredible @itaeewon
summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.
pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (they’re so, SO stupid), slooooow burn, angst, fluff
word count: 8.4k
series warnings: swearing, sexual themes, one instance of mild violence, alcohol use, infidelity, brief mentions of neglectful parents and alcoholism
chapter warnings: potty mouths, oc teasingly threatens her friends, art world inaccuracies (probably, idk how art shows work), fns music festival dynamite performance taehyung (BLESSED), friends who can’t mind their own business, quick backstory on the aforementioned shitty parenting, oc needs (and has) a drink
a/n: so here is my first foray back into writing after being out of the game for several years! big shout outs to @itaeewon​ / @jeonqkooks​ for the banner and encouragement as well as @taegularities​ for giving me writing advice and letting me cry in her inbox every time i got frustrated with this. they’re also both INCREDIBLE writers so go show them some love once you’re done here!
 SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST
Read on ao3
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“She was checking you out.”
“She was not checking me out.”
“Kim Taehyung, she was so checking you out!”
“No.”
“She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave you the ‘come hither’ head tilt.”
Taehyung makes a face. “No one says that anymore, and that’s a perfectly normal gesture to make in everyday conversation.”
“When you want to get someone’s pants off.”
He shushes you, eyes flicking over to the nearby tables in the mostly-empty dining room with all of its dim lights and dark wood paneling. The bar had been a go-to for you and your friends in college, boasting a wide variety of burgers, sandwiches, and wraps that could even satisfy Jungkook and his bottomless appetite. Though your visits have become fewer and farther in between after graduation, nostalgia occasionally drags you back for a lunch or round of late-night drinks, which is how you’ve wound up here on a bright Saturday afternoon.
“You should ask for her number.”
“I am not asking her for her num—!”
“Can I get you anything?”
Taehyung’s face turns bright red as the waitress materializes at the side of your table as if on cue. It’s subtle, but she bats her eyelashes at him, body angled in his direction as if you’re not even there. You raise an eyebrow at him from across the table. See?
“I think we’re ready to order,” you say, mostly to put Taehyung out of his misery as he wordlessly stammers at the blonde.
You’d think he’s never seen a girl before in his life.
The waitress jots your orders down before strolling away in the direction of the kitchen, and you’d swear she’s swinging her hips a little more dramatically than before. You turn towards Taehyung.
“Told you.”
“I said no,” he says sheepishly, cheeks still brushed with pink. “Besides, she looks like she’s probably still in college.”
“You look like you’re probably still in college.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “And we’re not that old, Tae. You could date a college student.”
“Pass.”
You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “Fine, but we still need to find you a date to the wedding. Can’t let those youthful good looks go to waste.”
Taehyung huffs in faux annoyance, but his lips quirk up at the compliment. “I’m not bringing a date.”
“So you say, but I’m going to change your mind.”
His smile widens. “Oh, really?”
“Really.” You hold out a pinky, and he only hesitates a moment before linking his with yours.
“Okay, we’ll see.”
You fall into one of your usual conversation patterns as you ask about how his job is going. He tells you about the upcoming art show at the gallery where he works as a curator, doing some freelance photography as a side gig. He’d managed to snag Maya, one of the aforementioned friends, a spot in it, and he smiles as he gushes over how great her pieces turned out, cheeks lightly flushed with what you interpret as pride. The two of them met freshman year as photography majors and quickly developed into friends and partners, challenging each other artistically and now occasionally teaming up to shoot larger weddings and events.
It makes pride warm your own belly, seeing him flourish and succeed in the field he had always dreamed of. Photography had been an outlet for him throughout high school, a vital reprieve from the insulated struggles of your shared childhood. Taehyung has never been a negative person, never weighed down in spite of the home life which would have given him every justifiable reason to become jaded. Still, you’d watched a new light bloom in him after he discovered photography as if the camera lens truly gave him a fresh way of seeing the world.
And you’ve always loved seeing happiness spill from your best friend.
Your food is just being brought to the table when Jimin comes shuffling up in a zombie-like trance, eyes wide and mouth slack.
"Finally made i—woah, are you alright?"
Jimin drops into a seat, glazed eyes fixated on the window overlooking the street.
"Maya and Kook are hooking up."
Taehyung chokes on his drink, water spraying onto his plate, while your jaw hits the floor.
"They're what?!"
"What the fuck?!"
Jimin works his jaw before wiping his hands over his face, "Yup."
You and Taehyung gape at him.
"What in the name of God would make you say that?" you ask emphatically, just as Taehyung says, "They hate each other."
"I don't know. Probably because I just caught her straddling him on our couch half-naked. But it’s just a feeling."
"Oh my God, we don't need to know that!"
"Our couch?!"
Jimin scrubs a hand over his face again as if he could wipe the image from his brain. “Yeah, I…can’t say I’m entirely surprised, but, Jesus, I did not need to see that with my own two eyes.”
“Okay, wait, wait,” you say, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear your thoughts. “You’re sure it was Maya—not another one of his random hook-ups?”
“You think I don’t know what she looks like?” Jimin asks, pulling a face. “Look, she stopped by to grab some camera equipment Tae left for her and said she was going to hang around for a minute to wait for an Uber. I was already late for here so I left, but I forgot my wallet. When I went back they were…compromised. And I didn’t exactly stick around to interrogate them.” He frowns again, turning to Taehyung. “Speaking of, can you cover me for lunch?”
“This is unreal. Fucking unreal,” you fume. “I’m going to kill them.”
“Is it really all that surprising?” Jimin asks. “Somewhere in all of their bickering and nagging and constant frowning at each other was always some thinly-veiled sexual tension.” When you glare at him, he adds, “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t sleep with her.”
“That’s not the problem, Chim. You know how this shit goes.” You rub a thumb between your eyes, trying to ease the sudden tension there. “They already fight all the time, and sex only ever complicates things. How long until this blows up and we’re forced to choose sides?”
And that’s the crux of your worry—a disaster seems inevitable. Maya and Jungkook have always been clear about their bare tolerance of each other, seeing it as a necessary evil for the benefit of the rest of your friendships. And while their arguments and bickering have been relatively muted in recent years after you, Taehyung, and Jimin had put down a collective foot and told them you were tired of hearing their shit, you are not eager to see them test the fragile thread that links all of you.
You’ve dealt with enough instability regarding the people in your life; the last thing you need is more.
The waitress comes up to take Jimin’s order while Taehyung studies you as you press the heels of your palms to your eyes.
“Hey,” he says as the waitress walks off again, a hand sliding across the table in your direction but not quite making it there. “No one is getting divorced or anything. Just talk to Maya first. We really don’t even know what’s going on here.”
Jimin lets out a puff of air. “I do. He had his hand up her—” He shuts his mouth as both you and Taehyung shoot daggers at him.
After a moment, your fingers tap absent-mindedly over your phone. “Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to her tonight. We’re supposed to go dress shopping for the art show.”
“Gotta get something nice for Jace?” Jimin asks, wiggling an eyebrow. You smirk back at him.
“No, he can’t make it. Work has him putting in overtime like crazy for their annual convention in a few weeks.”
“How is he doing—Jace?” Taehyung asks. His tone is light, but as Jimin turns to look at him, he notices his hand on the table had closed into a fist.
“He’s good,” you say, the tension finally melting out of your face as your eyes light up. “He’s been incredibly upbeat lately, actually—more romantic even.” There’s a pause as you hesitate. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was going to…you know.” You wave faintly with your left hand.
Jimin’s eyes go wide. “You think he’s planning to pro—” You quickly press a finger over your lips, and Jimin slaps a hand to his thigh. “Fuck yes! About damn time. Hey,” he settles his face in his palm and stares off dreamily. “Can I be your maid of honor?” Then, when you giggle, “Don’t laugh. I would look great in a dress.”
“I’ll put you on the short list,” you say, turning towards your food as Jimin pumps a fist. “But no more talk about that. I’ve waited damn long enough and do not want to jinx it.”
Taehyung’s knuckles had gone white.
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“It’s really none of your business,” Maya says, picking up a bright purple, thigh-length dress off the rack and holding it up to her shoulders. “How about this one?”
“Too short.” She puts it back. “And I beg to differ. When something stands to get between two of my best friends who I care about deeply, I think that makes it my business.” When Maya doesn’t say anything, still nonchalantly flipping through dresses, you press on. “You know this can’t end well, right? You’re adding sex to an already volatile relationship, and I don’t like the idea of the friend group having to split if and when the two of you implode.”
“First of all, we’re not your damn parents. Kook may be a walking man child, but the rest of us are mature adults. We’d figure it out,” Maya says. She holds up a green gown, frowns, and returns it. Turning towards you, she quirks an eyebrow. “Second of all, who says that this morning was the first time?”
Your jaw drops. As you stand speechless, Maya resumes her dress perusal.
“Wha—how long?” you finally choke out.
“Ooh, this is pretty.” Maya pulls out a deep red cocktail dress, silver roses adorning the fabric. Catching the look on your face, she says, “Two years, give or take.”
“Two—!” you squeak before shaking your head. “No. No fucking way. You two can barely be in the same room for two minutes let alone sleep together for two years.”
Maya smirks. “Turns out he can do much better things with his mouth when he’s not using it to talk out of his ass.”
“Maya, oh my God!”
“What? You wanted to make it your business, right?”
You take a breath to steady yourself. “Look, I am just worried about you guys, okay? That’s it. You’re two of my best friends, and I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. And I certainly don’t want to be put into a situation where I have to choose between you.”
“That won’t happen,” Maya says, trailing off towards a dressing room. “For someone to get hurt, there’d have to be actual feelings involved, and the only feeling he gives me is a migraine.” She slips into a changing stall while you lean against the wall, still trying to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.
“Besides,” Maya’s voice sounded from behind the curtain, “Jimin only found out because of his stupid wallet, and he notices everything. If we could fool him for that long with no problems…” She pulls the curtain back. The red fabric of the dress hugs her hips, her dark hair draped over one shoulder. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous, as usual,” you say. And then, because you can’t help it, “I’m sure Kook will love it.”
Maya rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.” She steps back into the stall and yanks the curtain closed again. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…weird.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Maya says over the shuffling of clothes. “Nothing changed during the two years when you guys didn’t know and nothing has to change now.”
Maybe she’s right, you think to yourself, resting your head back and closing your eyes to the bright fluorescents above you. Maybe everything would be fine. Jungkook, in spite of his cocky playboy persona, may be a big teddy bear at heart, but you’ve never known him to mix emotions with pleasure. And Maya is certainly capable of handling herself.
Still, the whole thing just reeks of disaster waiting to happen.
The sun has just started its descent when the two of you step out of the shop, Maya now carrying a long white bag along with her. You pause for a moment, taking a slow inhale of the soft spring air. This is probably your favorite time of day, when the whole city is tinted gold, the push of the foot traffic slowing to a lazier pace as college students and businessmen alike meander their way to dinners and evening plans.
“Do you want to do dinner at my place?” Maya asks, starting to move in the direction of her apartment as you trail at her side. “I was planning on trying this new pot roast recipe, and I’d rather not get stuck with too many leftovers.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” you say. “I’m in.”
“You just have to promise to stop looking so constipated.”
You let out a puff of a laugh. “I’m sorry—I really don’t mean to meddle.” You purse your lips. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“I know, you said that already,” Maya sighs. “But we’re all grown-ups, Y/N. I know you mean well, but you’ve gotta loosen up the reins a little bit.”
“Whatever. As long as I don’t have to walk in on you guys like Jimin did.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “And just…be careful.”
Maya rolls her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that day. She knows your heart is in a good place—the stereotypical “mom friend” just looking out for everyone—but your own blind spot drives her crazy.
You insist that you don’t truly mean to meddle. Maya, however, has no such qualms.
“You know,” she says, smirking at you with a sideways glance. “If you’re really worried about someone getting their heart broken, you should spend less time worrying about me and Kook and more time worrying about Tae.”
Your steps slow, frown lines gradually forming on your face. “Tae? What about Tae?” You pause. “He and Luna broke up months ago. He said he was over her.”
They were barely together a year, but the relationship had been the longest of Taehyung’s life. He’d spent the two weeks following the breakup locked in his room while you juggled both making sure he was alright and moving into a new apartment.
Maya gestures to the bag in her hands. “Don’t stop walking. This thing is a bitch to carry.”
As you jog a few steps to catch up, you ask, “Why? Did he say something to you?”
“Oh, please.” Another eyeroll. “He was never into Luna. It’s a wonder they even lasted as long as he did.”
“Then who?”
“C’mon, Y/N.”
“Maya, I genuinely have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
It’s Maya’s turn to stop in her tracks this time, passerby giving the two of you dirty looks as they swerve around you. She pins you with a pointed expression that has you blinking back at her. “What?”
Maya only continues to stare, tilting her head and biting her tongue until you finally put the pieces together. Your eyes going wide before you shake your head vigorously.
“No. No. You’re wrong.”
Maya scoffs and continues walking. “Uh-huh.”
“I’ve told you this before. We’re just comfortable with each other. He’s my—”
“Best friend who has made heart eyes at you the entire time I’ve known you two.”
“He does not. He looks at me like he’s always looked at me.”
“Exactly.”
“I—need I remind you that I’m in a committed relationship?”
“So? That doesn’t affect his feelings.”
“Tae has dated plenty of girls.”
“And with much success, obviously.”
You hesitate. “It’s not his fault that they all—”
“See how he looks at you and decide not to waste their time?”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Sure it is.”
“You’re misreading it. It’s just that we have history.”
“And chemistry. And while we’re rattling off school subjects the two of you share, I’m sure he’d be willing to help you with your physical education.”
“Maya.”
“I’m just saying!” She adjusts the bag, the plastic rustling the air. “I just got this sense that something, I don’t know, broke after Luna. I figured he finally realized how hung up on you he is or something, and that’s why he hasn’t dated since.”
The idea of a broken Taehyung squeezes your heart as your frown impossibly deepens. “That’s not…no. That’s definitely not what it was. He’s fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine.”
“Okay. Fine. If you say so.”
The two of you fall into silence, the light crackle of Maya’s bag hanging delicately between you. The sun is starting to dip behind buildings now, stretching long shadows onto the ground in front of you as you turn onto her block. You inhale a long, shaky breath.
Yes, it’s been a while since Taehyung has dated, and yes, this is a little peculiar. He may be your best friend,  but part of that means you’ve watched him grow from awkward kid to gangly teenager to one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re not blind—you’ve seen how it’s unsurprisingly garnered him a good deal of female attention throughout the years (Saturday afternoon was not the first time he’s been hit on by a waitress). And while he’s never been anywhere near Jungkook’s level of playboy, he’s definitely been on his fair share of dates.
You don’t doubt that Maya’s noticed something of a shift in him—after you, she’s probably the person who knows him best. But both you and Taehyung have always insisted that your platonic relationship is, well, entirely platonic. So even if something changed for him, she has to be off base as to the why.
Right?
“Maya—”
“Look, I’m not telling you to sleep with him or leave Jace or anything like that. Just…” Maya purses her lips together, blowing air out of her nose. “Step back and look at what you’re doing to him before you lecture the rest of us. The guy is crazy about you, and you’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”
Well.
Shit.
She climbs the steps to her front door, slipping in the key and opening it before turning back to where you remain at the bottom of the stoop fiddling with your purse strap.
“You coming?”
“Um,” you hesitate. Your eyes drift off down the street, mind suddenly racing . “I don’t know. I’m not really hungry anymore.”
Maya’s expression softens. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”
“No, no,” you say with another shake of your head.  “I’m not mad. I just think I want to go home, maybe take a bath.”
“Okay,” Maya slowly responds. “I’ll see you at the show Friday night?”
You smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Perhaps, Maya muses as she watches you saunter down the sidewalk, calling you out was not the right move. But the thought only lingers for a moment before she turns with a shrug and goes inside.
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It’s Sunday night when you find yourself at the guys’ apartment for your and Taehyung’s weekly meal prep tradition. The ritual is the evolution of several years of having to care for yourselves—a need to eat turned into a sacred bonding activity for two people who had learned to rely on each other.
You and Taehyung met when you were eight-years-old after your teacher had fatefully situated your desks next to each other on the first day of school. A compliment from Taehyung on the color of your pencil case (a bright and bold turquoise) turned into a fast friendship that rapidly deepened as you realized just how similar you were: both only children living in homes with parents who were neglectful in their own ways.
In spite of growing up in a lavish, sparkling house with more rooms than you could count, your childhood was a struggle as your endlessly-busy, high-powered-lawyer parents virtually ignored your existence and left you to your own devices, working late hours every day and oftentimes not even ensuring that you had been properly fed. The mansion had felt like a prison, long hallways and tall ceilings devoid of life, filled with nothing but a terrible sense of loneliness.
That was, at least, until Taehyung showed up.
When either of you had a bad day (which was, admittedly, most days), he would slip away from the tiny, one-bedroom house on the poorer side of town, where his mother had abandoned him to an alcoholic father, and you'd sneak him in the back door (your parents either never noticed or simply didn't care). The two of you would raid the kitchen cabinets for snacks and lug your loot up to your bedroom, where you'd throw together a giant fort made of pillows and blankets with your prized possession at the center—a small globe light with tiny cut-out stars.
You never really talked about your respective situations—there was never really a need to. He saw your non-relationship with your parents firsthand, and you had heard the rumors about his family—whispers at school about the boy with secondhand clothes and a dad who often had to be dragged out of the local bars. The outside world may have been cruel, passing judgment on the both of you (and Taehyung especially) for circumstances outside of your control, but in the comfort of your room, even that fostered your kinship. It was like your own minuscule universe, belonging only to the two of you, and as you munched on your popcorn and watched the soft stars dance across the propped-up fabric, you'd talk and tell each other stories. Stories about anything from kings and queens to pirates to cowboys to astronauts. The only rule was that every tale had to have a happy ending.
As you got older, you traded your storytelling nights for evenings experimenting in the kitchen, sick of gorging yourselves on chips, pretzels, and sodas. Occasionally, once Taehyung purchased his first camera from a secondhand shop with money he saved delivering newspapers, he'd drag you around town for a photoshoot. You’d wander the streets together, helping him to scout out areas for inspiration, and he’d use you as his model to practice portraits and photographing human subjects. This tradition, too, had faded once the two of you escaped your hometown to go to college (you're not sure your parents even realized you had left), as Taehyung began working on class projects with Maya and you started spending more time with Jace. Only your weekly meal prep had persisted.
Your cooking had been a staple during college, you and Taehyung hosting “family dinners” for you and your friends on weekends (usually followed by a good few rounds of drinks), eventually shifting into you making batch meals on Sundays once you’d all graduated and begun working. That was when it had been you who’d lived in this apartment, back before you’d moved in with Jace and Jungkook had taken your place here. Still, even as lifestyles and living arrangements changed, you always wound up cooking with Taehyung on Sunday nights.
“What are mom and dad making tonight?” Jimin trills, reaching over the counter to take a swipe at a baby carrot. You shoo his hand away.
“Nothing, if you keep stealing our ingredients. Aren’t you supposed to be going to the gym?”
“I am, but someone,” he turns to yell over his shoulder, “is taking their sweet ass time getting ready!”
A door clicks open down the hall before Jungkook’s voice yells out, “Calm down, asshole, I’m almost done!” The door slams shut again.
“Such a diva,” Jimin huffs, gaining an edge to pop a carrot into his mouth. You let out a cry of protest.
“Chim, cut it out!” You turn to Taehyung who is at the opposite counter with his back to you, chopping more vegetables. “Tae, stop him.”
Taehyung snorts, not turning around. “That’s my job?”
“You have a knife.”
“Sorry, I’ve taken a vow of nonviolence.”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter as Jimin tries to reach around you again. “Hands off, Park, or I swear to God I will kick you in the balls, and you will not see it coming.”
“Guy’s gotta get some action somehow, am I right?” Jungkook comes striding down the hallway in a tank top and shorts, looking more like he’s ready for a magazine cover shoot than a gym visit as he bounds up to where you and Jimin stand in the kitchen.
“Hey, I get plenty of action!”
“You were literally whining this morning that it’s been three months.”
Jimin flushes. “That’s because I don’t sleep with my friends.”
“Neither do I,” Jungkook says, throwing a wink in your direction as you roll your eyes back at him.
“You’re disgusting. It’s a wonder Maya puts up with you.”
“It’s definitely more of a puts out situation.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “And not really up? Contrary to what you might expect, she’s usually under—“
“Jeon Jungkook.” Then, when he makes a move to grab a carrot, you turn to Taehyung and snap, “Tae, give me a knife, I’ll stab them myself.”
Barely looking up, he reaches over to grab a knife out of the block, twisting it in his hands to hold it delicately by the blade and offer it to you handle-first. You grip it, only to slam the knife down firmly on its side in front of you, staring down Jimin and Jungkook in a silent challenge. But Jimin merely quirks an eyebrow in silent laughter, while Jungkook lets out a teasing, “Hot.”
You glare and raise the knife to chest level, pointing it at his sternum and trying to muster as much threatening energy as you possibly can in the face of a guy who could bench press you in his sleep. And while his facial expression remains one of passive amusement, he raises his hands in mock surrender and says, "Fine, fine, we're going."
With a sweep of their gym bags, they make their way out, and there's one last, "Save some for us!" from Jimin before the door swings shut behind them.
You sigh. "Idiots."
"But they're our idiots," Taehyung says, and a glance over your shoulder tells you that he's laughing at your frustration, a smile brightening his features and warming your chest.
"Remind me why we adopted them again?"
"You instantly fell for Jimin's puppy dog eyes when he was wandering around lost at orientation, and Kook..." He trails off. "Why did we adopt Kook?"
"School administration made you dorm with him, and we haven't been able to get rid of him since?"
"Oh yeah, that's right."
You fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound being that of your respective knives hitting the cutting board before Taehyung speaks up again.
"Speaking of Kook, you never told me how your conversation with Maya went."
You're thankful you have your back to him because you immediately feel yourself flush, heat shooting up your neck like an erupting volcano. You want to say, Yeah, it went great. She told me that you're desperately in love with me, and I'm the reason why none of your relationships have worked out. But that's ridiculous, right? Right?!
Instead, you do your best to mask your expression into one of relative impassivity and say, “Well, according to her, this isn’t new. They’ve been doing this for two years.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.”
Taehyung ignores that. “How did none of us ever notice?”
“That’s what I can’t figure out. You’d think we would’ve noticed a change or something, right?”
He’s quiet, and you glance over to see him staring at a distant point out the window, lost in thought, the heel of the knife absentmindedly tapping a beat against the board. Taehyung’s always been introspective—content to sit in contemplation as he slowly works an idea through his mind. He’s thoughtful like that, ever the deliberator and rarely one to act on impulse. You balance each other out in this regard, with you having always been more inclined to break rules as you see fit and Taehyung being there to reel you in as needed.
“Maybe it works for them,” he finally says, and you feel your eyebrows shoot halfway up your forehead.
“You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”
He shrugs, attention drawn back to the vegetables in front of him. “It hasn’t caused a problem yet, right?”
“The operative word there being yet.”
He shrugs again, brows tilting together. “I’m just saying that they’re both consenting adults, and if it’s gone this long without any catastrophes, maybe it really is a good arrangement for both of them.”
“It’s Maya and Kook. They’re always a catastrophe.”
“Exactly. They’d probably have an eventual falling out even if they weren’t sleeping together, so who knows? Maybe it actually helps them work some of that tension off.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“I didn’t say it was healthy.” He finishes chopping his last onion and sets his knife down, crossing the kitchen to check your own progress. Reaching over you, he grabs a piece of carrot and slips it into his mouth, grinning when you frown at him. “Really, Y/N, what can you do?”
“I know, but they’re…they’re the closest thing to family that we have. You know that.”
“Families can be dysfunctional. We both know that.” He munches on another carrot. “I’d still take them over my biological family any day.”
When that still doesn’t seem to entirely placate you, he reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your neck and raising goosebumps there, before he slides his hand down to loop your pinkies together. “What will happen will happen. Don’t let it worry you unnecessarily.” Then he’s off heating up oil on the stove.
Normally, the brief touch would have barely registered in your mind—a simple gesture you had gotten into the habit of using when you were kids to provide reassurance. But it’s like your conversation with Maya has been inked under your skin, recoloring your perspective on the single-most steadfast relationship you’ve ever had in your life.
You hate it.
The oil begins to bubble on the stove, but Taehyung is distracted, rummaging around the refrigerator for something, so you take over, dumping in the beef that will help form the base for the soup. You throw in some seasoning, poking at the meat with a spoon and willing it to brown.
“So you’re really not interested in dating again?”
The words slip out, and the contents of the pot pop angrily at you.
Yeah, you might regret this later.
“Hmm?” Taehyung closes the fridge, cracking open the beer that’s now in his hand.
You curse your loose tongue under your breath. “Just…the other day at lunch. You were so against asking that waitress for her number.”
“She wasn’t my type.”
“And you don’t want to bring a date to the wedding.”
“I’d only bring a long-term girlfriend to a wedding. Less of a chance we’d have to edit her out of pictures later.”
“And how many dates have you been on since Luna? It’s been what, almost a full year?”
His brow scrunches, and the way he’s studying you makes you blush. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”
You stare determinedly into the soup pot, trying to look nonchalant. “You’re my best friend, and I want to see you happy. Of course I’m interested.”
He props his hip against the counter in thought and takes a long drag of beer before he answers you. “I thought after Luna that it would be best if I take some time to focus on myself before diving back in. That’s all.”
“She really did a number on you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
You poke at the beginnings of your soup, memories of an absolutely miserable Taehyung surfacing in your mind. “It sucked, you know.”
“What?”
“Seeing your heart break.”
“Ah.” He takes another drink. “Right.”
“I swear, if I saw her again, I’d be tempted to kick her ass.”
He chuckles at that, and it rumbles his entire chest.
It might stir something in yours, too.
“I mean it, Tae.”
“Oh, trust me, I know you do.”
“Could be anywhere: club, grocery store. I’m not afraid to throw hands.”
He gives a tilt of his head. “She was a third degree black belt.”
“Well I kicked that Kenji kid in the groin during recess after he stole your backpack, and he cried for like twenty minutes. Remember that? He was practically six feet tall in the fifth grade, and that didn’t stop me. First degree black belt my ass.”
“Third degree.”
“Whatever.”
“Well as much as I appreciate your determined defense of my pride, I can assure you any emotional distress I suffered was minimal—“
“You haven’t dated since!”
“—and is definitely not worth putting yourself in the hospital over.”
“You don’t miss it though? What about like…” You trail off, cursing your stupid mouth getting ahead of your brain. You’ve never really talked about this before. Relationships, sure, but when it comes to the physical, along with your families, it’s one of the few subjects you avoid.
As your pause stretches on, he raises his eyebrows in question, and you decide to just come out with it.
“What about sex?”
Taehyung, to his credit, is unfazed by your sudden mention of the taboo. “I still have two hands, and they haven’t failed me so far.”
“Oh, Tae, ew.”
He grins devilishly at you, mischief brightening his eyes. It’s a look that he used to wear all the time when you were kids but which became rarer once he mellowed out with adulthood.
Seeing it on him now makes your heart jump.
“Point taken, forget I asked,” you say, and he laughs.
“Really, I’m fine with taking a break from dating for now. Isn’t that what that band you love is always preaching? Self-love and all that.”
You huff out a breath, nodding at his hands. “You don’t say.”
He laughs again, grinning down at you, and the uncertainty you’ve been feeling bubbles up again, your nerves sparking in time with a particularly loud crackle from the pot on the stove.
“Ah, geez, don’t let it burn,” he says, nudging you out of the way to take over. You take the opportunity to wander over to the fridge for a water bottle, feeling the need to cool yourself down. Honestly, what is wrong with you?
Taehyung, in sync with your moods by now, reads you like a book. “I feel like I should be asking you if you’re okay.” He says as he sets the meat aside and begins simmering the mirepoix in the fat. “You seem distracted.”
The conversation has become too much for you to wrestle with at this point, and you feel the need to shut it down before it gets out of control entirely. So you swallow down your anxieties like a pill without water and deflect.
“There’s just…a lot going on right now.”
It’s almost imperceptible, possibly a trick of the light, but his back stiffens ever so slightly. “Hmm, I’m sure.” He looks up at you from the stove, eyes pinning you where you stand. “But you’d tell me if there were something?”
You swallow. “Of course. You?”
“Of course.”
And that has to be enough for now.
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The glow of the sunset creeps into your room as you put the finishing touches on your make-up for the night. You're running later than anticipated as you had hoped to catch Jace before you left—you know he has a virtual client meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes that he had planned to attend from home, but he texted you a half-hour ago saying that he got caught up at the office and might just take it there.
With your make-up done, you can't justify lingering any longer and decide to just leave him a note letting him know when you'll be back. Jace's desk is an absolute mess, but you're thankfully able to locate a notepad easily. A pen, however, is a different matter, and it's not long before you're rummaging through the drawers trying to find anything to write with. For a man who keeps his appearance so well-groomed, he has a true affinity for clutter, and you roll your eyes at the junk you have to sift through in search of a simple writing utensil: a hammer, old movie tickets, a broken picture frame, a ring box...
A ring box?
You pause, fingers hovering over the black velvet. Surely, you shouldn't look, right? You already feel like you're crossing some line by discovering the small box—you should preserve some element of surprise for both of your sakes.
Still, the devil on your shoulder whispers to sneak a peek...
Your decision is made for you as you hear the front door click open and shut, and you hastily close the drawer and try to school your features into something casual.
"Hey, gorgeous."
Jace leans in the doorway grinning, not a single sandy brown hair out of place and his impeccably-ironed dress shirt pulled tight across his toned chest. In a fraction of a second, you see his eyes flick from his desk drawer to where you stand stiffly in front of it.
"Hey!" The word comes out a little too loudly, and you rush to cover up the blunder. "I thought I wouldn't see you."
"Wanted to surprise my girl," he says, smile brightening as he swings a hand from behind his back to offer you a single red rose. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take it from him, marveling at how—even four years down the line—he can still manage to charm you.
He presses a kiss to your mouth, hands trailing down the back of your dress to palm your ass with a groan. "Fuck. Can't believe I have this work meeting when you look like this."
"And unfortunately, I need to get going, too, or Maya will have my head." You lean in for another quick peck. "Rain check for later?"
He chuckles, letting you go with one final squeeze. "I'll hold you to that."
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"Look who finally showed up!" is what you're greeted with when you locate your friends in the gallery atrium, dodging the other patrons milling about.
"Sorry, got caught up with Jace," you say, shrugging at Maya's teasing glare.
Jungkook winks at you. "I'm sure you did."
"Yah, Kook, don't be gross," Jimin complains, slapping him on the arm.
"What?! She looks great! Right, Tae? Tell her she looks great."
You meet Taehyung's eyes for the first time since you walked up, and he shifts on his feet, gaze darting down to the accentuated curve of your hips. Clearing his throat, he smiles and says, "You look beautiful."
Cheeks hot, you murmur a quiet, "Thanks," so distracted by the awkwardness of the moment that you don't notice the look exchanged by Jimin and Maya between you.
Friends can call friends beautiful and not have it mean anything beyond that, right? You told Maya she looked gorgeous when she bought her dress with you last weekend, and you’d definitely be willing to admit that Taehyung looks incredible tonight. His navy blue suit hugs the lines of his body perfectly—highlighting his tall, lithe form—while his hair is combed up and off his forehead in a style that projects both professionalism and approachability. Combine that with the easy smile he keeps on his face, and he’s basically in male model territory.
You’ll be stunned if he doesn’t get hit on again tonight.
You make some idle small talk with your friends for a few minutes (Jungkook is trying to convince the others to head over to the bar where he works after the reception) before Maya gently nudges you with an elbow.
"Go and have a look around. Mine are back there," she declares, nodding her head towards the right hand corner of the exhibit, "but you should really check out all of the work—there's some good stuff. Hoseok and Sunny are around somewhere too."
You nod, welcoming the chance to see what it is your friends have been working so hard on, and excuse yourself to peruse the gallery. You may not be much of a creative mind yourself, but years of friendship with Taehyung and his infectious enthusiasm have at least helped you develop an appreciation for art. Weaving between the walls of frames and canvases, you stop here and there as a piece catches your eye: dark bars slashed across a messy outline of a heart titled Fake Love; a small boy offering up a waffle cone that holds a rose instead of ice cream—For You.
However, you find yourself slowing down entirely when you get to Maya's collection of photographs. They're mostly black and white candids of strangers. A woman shopping in an outdoor market. A girl chasing a dog in a park. Your friends pop up occasionally, and you smile at one of the memories you recognize: Jungkook pushing Jimin into the pool during your friendcation last year, bunny smile stretched wide across his face.
And suddenly you're frozen by a photo that's in full color.
It's Taehyung's face in close-up, his head turned to the side as he looks at something out of frame. His jaw strikes a downward line, mouth ever so slightly dipped open in something akin to wonder and tan cheeks curving with subtle delight. It's his eyes you can't look away from, though, opened wide enough to soak in whatever he's looking at that they reflect the golden lights around him, tiny galaxies swimming in his irises.
"Enjoying the view?" a deep voice teases at your shoulder, the man himself coming to stand at your side.
"That's an incredible picture of you," you tell him, still taking it in.
He hums in agreement. "I told you, she did a good job."
"Was that last summer?"
"Yeah." He nods his head at the picture of Jimin and Jungkook. "Same night as that, I think."
"What were you looking at?"
Taehyung is quiet as he thinks, scratching lightly at his nose. "I can't say I remember. Probably Hoseok walking out with that plate of pork belly. That was mouth-watering."
You laugh, and he smiles back at you before gesturing at the rows of artwork. "Can I show you some of my favorites?"
"I'd love that."
You let him drag you away, but not before glancing back to read the title card delicately placed next to Taehyung's image.
Your eyes tell.
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Taehyung navigates you around the exhibit for a while, describing his role in organizing the gallery and stopping to gush about his favorite pieces. You've always loved hearing him talk about art, his passion for the subject illuminating his face as he enthuses about light and shadows and colors.
He's explaining the rule of thirds to you when Maya interrupts, telling Taehyung she has a potential client for him that she wants him to meet. He promises to find you later as she whisks him away, and, alone again, you decide to head to the adjoining reception area in search of your other friends.
You’re only a few steps into the room when you hear a voice call out your name, Jimin flagging you down from where he stands at a table with Jungkook, Hoseok, and Sunny, and you quickly slide up to hug the latter two.
“You guys made it! We’ve missed you. How’s wedding planning going?”
Hoseok groans into his champagne. “Please do not remind me,” he grumbles. “It makes med school feel like a cakewalk.”
“What my wonderful fiancé meant to say,” Sunny says, playfully elbowing Hoseok in the side and making him sputter on his drink, “is that it’s going fantastically, and we can’t wait to celebrate with you all.”
“Rumor is that it’s the can’t-miss event of the year,” Jimin singsongs. “And Kook and I are bringing the party!” He reaches over so he and Jungkook can share a short but excessively elaborate handshake.
Sunny looks on, amused. “Speaking of, do you two know if you’re bringing dates? We don’t have to finalize headcount quite yet, but knowing sooner rather than later would be appreciated.”
“I will definitely be going stag, but I think Kook might have one, yeah?” Jimin’s voice is teasing, but Jungkook doesn’t catch on, throwing him a quizzical look and causing Jimin to clarify with a smirk. “Maya.”
Jungkook scoffs, muttering, “Not a chance,” while Hoseok’s and Sunny’s eyebrows shoot up in sync.
“You and Maya are dating now?” Sunny asks, eyes wide.
Jungkook tosses Jimin a glare. “No, he’s being an ass.”
When Sunny and Hoseok continue to look confused, glancing back and forth between Jungkook and Jimin, Jimin explains, "We found out recently—and unpleasantly for me, might I add—that Maya and Kook here have been engaging in some activities with, ah, no strings?"
Hoseok's eyebrows go impossibly higher, threatening to meld with his hairline, as his mouth pops open in surprise. "Uhh...congrats?"
Jungkook shakes his head, bottom lip jutting out like a child. "Chim's just jealous because he's in a drought."
"Hey!"
"I, for one, don't see an issue," Sunny says, hopping in to play peacemaker before Jimin and Jungkook devolve into one of their notorious bickering sessions. "You're both adults. And don't sweat it, Jimin, any girl would be lucky to have you."
"What's that supposed to mea—" Hoseok starts to ask before Sunny shuts him up with a finger to his lips, subtly nodding her head at the clearly placated men.
"I just can't believe you two are finally getting married." You change the subject, snatching up a flute of champagne off a tray as a waiter walks by. "Been a long time coming."
Sunny hums. "To be honest, I'm surprised we're beating you and Jace to the alter," she says, and now it's your turn to cough on your drink. "When is that happening?"
"Oh, I, um—" you stutter, as you weigh how much you should say. You should keep what you saw earlier a secret, right? After all, what if you're wrong and you come out looking like a fool?
But four pairs of eyes are now fixed on you expectantly, and these are your friends so you cave.
"Okay, I am swearing all of you to secrecy," you say, making deliberate eye contact with each of them in turn to emphasize your point, "but I literally found a ring box in his desk earlier when I was getting ready to come here."
The table erupts in your friends' squeals and cheers, Jimin and Jungkook coming around to playfully shake your shoulders.
"Oh my gosh, I knew it!"
"That's amazing news!"
"I want to be man of honor!"
"I already called dibs!"
"What are we calling dibs on?"
Your heart skips as Taehyung joins your table, smiling at the five of you but obviously perplexed as to what the ruckus is about. And maybe you're imagining it, but your friends all seem to quiet down at his appearance as well, causing Maya's words to once again echo in your mind. The guy is crazy about you, and you're the only one who doesn't see it.
An awkward silence drapes itself over the table, Jimin being the one to pipe up when Taehyung's expression begins to morph from curious to concerned. "Y/N, tell him the good news!"
At that, Taehyung's brown eyes settle on you, and so you take a deep breath and spill. "I found a ring box in Jace's desk."
You're looking at him intently, and it's only the tiniest sliver of a second, but you see it. Unmistakably.
His face drops.
If Maya's photo captured stars in his eyes, you watch each go out one-by-one, his lips pressing together like he's trying not to be sick. A heaviness hits his shoulders that has his chest curling inwards and you almost reaching out to him...
And just like that—all at once—he's gathered his features into a smile and beams at you.
"That's fantastic, Y/N. I'm so incredibly happy for you."
His voice sounds genuine, dripping in the baritone honey that is so warm and so him, but you know what you saw—you're sure of it—and it has your mind spinning.
Shit, shit, shit, she was right.
You down your champagne in one gulp, oblivious to the shocked faces around you as you throw it back and thump the glass harshly on the table. "I'm going for a drink. Anyone want anything?"
You barely give them time to shake their heads before you're scurrying away to the bar and ordering a cosmopolitan—strong. Thoughts whirring, you try to make sense of Taehyung’s crestfallen expression as the bartender mixes your drink. There surely must be an alternate explanation, right? Until now, Taehyung has never, ever given any indication that he has feelings for you. This must be a mistake; you must be seeing things…
But just as the bartender slides your glass across the countertop, you glance back at the table, blood running cold as you find Taehyung already looking at you. He gives you a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes before turning back to listen to whatever Jimin is currently saying.
You quickly down your second drink of the night and order a third.
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NEXT
a/n: and we’re off! likes, reblogs, comments, asks, feedback, constructive criticism, and carrier pigeons are all appreciated! this started off as a story with all OCs, and the first drafts of some of these scenes were originally written in third person omniscient so please forgive me if the POVs are a little all over the place in this chapter. it’ll be rectified moving forward!
taglist open: just message or reply 😊
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beyondthesefourwalls · 7 months
Text
This Love Came Back to Me (12)
Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: second chance romance, language, smut and allusions of smut, stalking, breaking and entering, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.
Part Twelve Word Count: 6K
Part Eleven :: Series Masterlist
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You felt almost hungover waking up on Monday morning, but you supposed that was to be expected after a week away. The relaxation you felt in the mountains was slowly but surely coiling back up to a thick cord of tension, made only easier by the man beside you. You were meeting Sadie for coffee near her office that morning, and he held your hand in his the entire drive, singing along to his 80’s playlist softly under his breath. 
The tall, dark haired woman greeted you both warmly with a vibrant pink folder in her hand. You tried not to be annoyed at how your name was written on the label. Your whole life and this whole situation was shrunk down to what would fit on a few pieces of 8.5 x 11 inch paper. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. 
Bradley let you do most of the talking, a supportive hand on your knee. The woman his best friend was besotted with read through the texts he had saved and all that had come in yesterday with a critical eye. 
“Well,” she said, a touch of sarcasm etched in her tone, “he’s certainly not doing himself any favors, is he?” Sadie flipped through the folder, pausing to jot down notes on one of the blank forms. She set her pen down when she was done, leaning back in her chair and sipping on her coffee. "If we can prove that he's been harassing you, I think we have a shot at the restraining order. I know it was disappointing not to get the emergency order, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get it when we go to court, okay?" 
You nodded slowly, trying to grasp onto the hope she was dangling in front of you. “Do we know when that is?” 
“We should hear something this week about a date, and he’ll be served the papers once a date is set.” 
Your breath hitched slightly at the thought of that happening, and Bradley must have caught it, because he squeezed your knee in reassurance before he started talking. “So what does she do between now and then?”
From across the table, Sadie shrugged and gave you a smile you knew was meant to be reassuring. She addressed you directly in her answer. “If he continues to reach out to you, document it all, but don’t respond to him. If you see him, try not to engage. Don’t give him a reason to think any of it is consensual or that you’re encouraging it. And I know it may be hard, but other than that…just try and live your life as normally as you can. I’ll handle the legal stuff. You focus on you.” 
You snapped the hair tie on your wrist once you were back in the passenger seat of the Bronco. You stared out the window as Bradley drove through mid-morning San Diego traffic toward one of the retail districts nearby, mulling over everything Sadie had said. She had been so insistent that this wasn’t your fault, and that you had a solid case, despite the judge’s first glance at your application not being enough. It felt good knowing you had someone in your corner like her, who knew the ins and outs of this kind of process. 
But your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about what she said about documenting every time he reached out to you and how it could ultimately help. You glanced down at the phone sitting in the cupholder. You had blocked every number Paul had contacted you from. You had even taken the initiative in blocking his email account, too. You were en route to get a new phone number. Now, though, you were wondering if you had jumped the gun in all of that. 
You liked to believe that getting a brand new number would mean that Paul wouldn’t be able to reach you. But if him reaching you could ultimately help you, to provide you with something tangible to use to take action against him….
You took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe it had gotten to the point where you were really considering letting this happen. 
Bradley reached across the seat to squeeze your hand, startling you. You were so lost in thought that you hardly noticed that he had pulled into a parking space in front of the cell phone carrier store. He must have clocked the change in your expression when you turned to look at him by the way his changed, too. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked. You tried to figure out how to articulate what it was that you were feeling without making it seem like you had lost it completely. 
“Is this the best idea?” you finally settled on, and when your boyfriend asked you what you meant, you pushed forward. “Sadie said that anything he does can be used against him, to help prove he’s been…” you cut yourself off as the word popped in your head. It had been said earlier, and you knew deep down that’s exactly what it was. But saying that S word made it that much realer to you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it just yet. “To help prove he’s been doing everything he has. And if..If I disconnect my number, isn’t that almost like, I don’t know, getting rid of an opportunity?” 
He didn’t respond right away, but his grip on your hand tightened just the tiniest bit, and the thumb on his other hand tapped a quick rhythm against the steering wheel he was still holding. Those thick eyebrows of his that you loved so much furrowed together as he processed your jumbled explanation of feelings. Finally, he let go of your hand and reached to take the keys out of the ignition, killing the engine. He nodded toward the store in front of you.
“Let’s go inside. I have an idea.” 
He was out of the Bronco before you could protest, and you hurried after him, confused. He held his hand out to you from the sidewalk. 
“Bradley, what are we doing?” you asked, tugging him to a stop before you could get to the door of the store. He looked at you with what you could only describe as a determined look, touched with something close to desperation. 
“Just trust me, okay? And please don’t say no.”
His words left you even more confused, but there was something about his eyes and the feeling he was emanating that you couldn’t help but nod. 
He held the door open for you and you were approached by a salesman almost immediately, and before you could say anything when he asked if there was something he could help you with, Bradley was speaking up. 
“I was hoping to add a new phone and number to my plan.” 
“Of course. What’d you have in mind?”
He looked down to you with that same determined look on his face, but it was softer now. His smile was small but reassuring, and he squeezed the hand still held in his. 
“Pick out what you want.”
“B….”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could hear the words he spoke into your hair, only for you. “This way you can keep the other one on but not have to worry about dealing with it. Because you’re right, it could be useful. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you put up with the stress of seeing it everyday. Please, Bug. Let me do this for you.” 
You knew how much Bradley cared for you, but this was a big gesture. You had never been one to accept help easily, especially not financially, and part of you felt that getting a new phone on his plan would be too much. It took you a moment, but eventually, you swallowed the protest that was ready on your lips. When you nodded, you both felt and heard the sigh of relief that he let out. 
You knew how supportive of your independence he was, but you wondered if sometimes what he needed was for you to let him do things like this. 
Picking something out was fairly simple, just going with an upgraded version of what you already had. You stood together at the counter as everything was set up and added, Bradley signing the necessary paperwork. You wrapped both your arms around one of his, pressing a kiss into his clothed bicep. You let your eyes flutter closed and breathed in the scent of him. He always had a way of calming your nerves and making you feel safe, even in the midst of chaos. You weren’t really sure what you did to deserve him, but you wanted to hold onto him forever.  
____
Sadie called you on Thursday, about an hour before you were scheduled for a phone interview for the job you were crossing your fingers for, to let you know that your court date had been set for 3 weeks out. You spent the next thirty minutes trying to breathe through the panic that settled on your chest like a semi-truck. Tears stung in your eyes, wondering how the hell your life had gotten to this point. Then your phone buzzed with a text from Bradley, and you couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped you. 
Bradley🐓✈️❤️: You got this, baby! Proud of you. Have a great interview.
He always had a way of knowing exactly when you needed him, even if he didn’t realize it. You wanted to tell him about the court date, to seek that additional comfort that you knew he would provide you without question. But you remembered what both he and Sadie had told you earlier in the week, about living as normally as possible, and you knew they were right. You couldn’t let this ruin the possibilities in front of you. You wouldn’t. 
You typed out a response as you forced some of the anxiety out, taking exaggerated breaths to combat it until eventually, it worked. 
I love you, B.  
Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Love you, Bug. Go get ‘em. 
Despite the feelings that had threatened to overwhelm you right before the interview, you did go get ‘em, just like Bradley had said. You got an email about coming in for an in person interview less than two hours after you had hung up the phone, and it was the following Friday that found you sitting on the couch, waiting for Bradley to get home. You were practically vibrating with excitement by the time he finally walked through the door. He didn’t even get a chance to take his keys out of the lock before you were jumping up. 
“I got the job!” you blurted out. 
Bradley looked startled for a second, no doubt at how sudden and loud you spoke, and his forehead crinkled like he wondered what you were talking about before it clicked. His dark eyes widened and a grin started making its way onto his face as he dropped his bag and hurried to where you were standing in the living room of the apartment. “You got it?” 
You nodded rapidly, your giddy smile so large that it was making your cheeks hurt. “I got it.” 
Bradley yelled your name in excitement right before he swept you off your feet. You giggled as he spun you around, feeling weightless in his strong arms. “I knew you could do it!” Eventually, he set you down, but he didn’t let you go far. He pulled you flush against him in a tight embrace. 
"I'm so proud of you, Bug," he said, his voice conveying just how truthful he was being. “You deserve this.” 
You leaned into him, feeling safe and loved and happy in his arms. "Thank you,” you murmured, accepting the kiss that he placed on your lips. 
“We should celebrate,” he said. “Order in something delicious? Open another bottle of wine we got in San Bernardino?” 
That sounded lovely, and you absolutely wanted to do that. But aside from the meeting with Sadie almost two weeks ago and the in person interview that you had two days prior, you hadn’t left Bradley’s apartment since you got back from the cabin. You were hiding away, whether you admitted it or not. You didn’t want to do that anymore. 
“Let’s go out.” 
If Bradley was surprised, he didn’t show it. He didn’t ask if you were sure, or if you thought it was a good idea. He searched your eyes for nothing more than a moment before he was squeezing your hip and nodding. 
He trusted you enough to know that if you said it’s what you wanted, you meant it. And that meant more than you could ever say. 
You enjoyed dinner out at one of your favorite Mexican restaurants, sipping a margarita and eating your weight in chips and queso and spicy tacos. Bradley sat close to you in the booth, finishing off your plate when you couldn’t eat anymore, and you spent the entire meal laughing and flirting with one another like a regular date should be. And when you were done, you made your way to the Hard Deck. You had shot off a text to some of your friends while Bradley did the same to his before dinner, and you were ecstatic when you spotted Anna already amongst the rest of the aviators. You met her with a hug, and when she introduced you to her boyfriend, you were pleasantly surprised when Bradley already seemed to know him. 
“We’ve been deployed together before. He’s a good guy,” he told you once the two had made their way over to the bar for refills, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face at how things seemed to be falling into place. 
You greeted the rest of Bradley’s friends with the same enthusiasm, genuinely glad to see them.You hugged Jake and Javy a little harder, whispering a soft thank you to them. You had never gotten the opportunity to do so after they had went and got your car out of that parking lot all those weeks ago, but both of them just shrugged it off like it was nothing. You knew that everyone probably was aware of what was going on with you, at least to a certain extent, but you appreciated so much how they didn’t seem to look or treat you any differently than they had before. 
Bradley slipped a drink into your hand as you mingled with both of your friends. He was a warm presence at your back, his arm wrapped around you with one of his fingers hooked into the belt loop at the front of your jeans. You tilted your head back to look at him with a smile, and he clinked the rim of his beer bottle against the side of your glass. “Here’s to you, baby,” he murmured into your ear, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that went through your body. When Jake and Bob roped him into a game of pool at the tables not too far away a few minutes later, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before walking off. 
You spent some time with Anna and her boyfriend, and talked with Mickey about the latest true crime documentary that you both had watched. It was after your dart had literally embedded itself into the wall when you were playing with Javy that you said you needed a break. There were tears in your eyes from how hard you were laughing, and your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent smile that had been on your face all night. Bradley was still enthralled at the pool table, so with a look in his direction, you headed to the bar by yourself for another refill. It wasn’t long before a shoulder was bumping into yours. When you looked over, you smiled in recognition at the dark haired woman beside you. You had greeted her earlier, but hadn’t really had the time for conversation before you were both pulled in opposite directions. 
“How are you?” Sadie asked. You thought about your day for a moment, how light and at ease you felt. 
“I’m good,” you answered honestly, “It’s been a really great day.” 
“I heard Bradley tell Natasha that you got that new job you were vying for - congratulations! You deserve it.” 
You felt the excitement hit you all over again at her words, and you knew your smile must look ridiculous at this point as you thanked her. 
“I’m glad to finally have something else, you know? This new place genuinely seems great, and it comes with a lot of opportunity.”
“Better than the toxic mess you’re at now?” 
You snorted, and it said a lot that not even the mention of your current job brought down your mood. Instead you tilted the freshly refilled glass in your hand in her direction. She set a hand on your wrist for a moment, and you could sense by the look in her eye that she was going to bring up something else about that situation before she even spoke. 
“Paul was successfully served his papers about you petitioning for a restraining order,” she told you, and you felt your breath hitch. She heard it too and shook her head. “This is a good thing. It means we’re one step closer to stopping him for good. That’s something to celebrate, too.”
You considered her words for a moment, and you weren’t sure if it was the drinks or just the energy of the night, but you found that part of you actually agreed with her. The mention of his name didn’t immediately make you feel like you were going to spiral, or stir up the same helpless feelings it normally did. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were indifferent in a way that you hadn’t been before. So when Penny slid Sadie her own new drink, you raised your glass to hers, and you toasted to getting this whole thing over with. 
Not too much later, you wandered out through the side doors. It was getting hot inside the bar, and the cool night air was blissfully refreshing against your skin. It was surprisingly empty out on the deck, and you appreciated the solitude as you leant against the railing, looking out at the ocean. It was dark, but you could see the dark water and hear it crashing in the distance. You could still hear all the chatter and the juke box from inside the bar floating out, but it was muted, a reminder of where you were while still allowing you the peace and quiet. 
The door opened behind you a minute later, and a smile tugged at your lips as Bradley’s deep, raspy voice filled your ears, alerting you to his presence.
“Hey, you. What are you doing out here?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind once he made it to where you were standing. A content noise escaped your throat as you settled back into his chest and laid your own hands over his at your waist. “You doin’ okay?” 
“I’m good,” you promised, “Just wanted some air. Was getting hot in there with all of those people.” 
You knew he’d know enough to guess that meant it was both the physical temperature, as well as your tendency to need a break from large crowds. It got too much for you sometimes, and on occasion, you just needed a few minutes by yourself to recenter and finish out the night. He hummed in response, and you knew he understood. 
You stood there together for a few long moments, not saying anything. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious movement, but he swayed your bodies slightly to the music floating out from inside the bar, some oldies tune that you weren’t sure the name of but you thought you had heard before - probably with him, no doubt. You relished just being in his arms like this. Eventually, though, he broke the peaceful silence. 
“Sadie told me something earlier,” he said, and you could hear the hesitancy in his voice, like he wasn’t sure if he should have brought it up before. You made a hum of recognition, nodding your head without looking at him. 
“Yeah, she told me too. About the papers.” 
Bradley paused as he seemed to gather what it was he wanted to say, so you continued on before he stressed over it too much, squeezing his forearm. “It’s okay. Surprisingly, I felt nothing when she told me. She said it’s something to celebrate because we’re one step closer to getting all of this over with, and I think I agree with her. That has to count as progress, right?” 
There was a beat of quiet as your words hung in the air before Bradley murmured your name softly. “Look at me?” he asked. 
At his request, you turned to face him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and toyed with the hair on the back of his head like you loved to do. He looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes shining.
“I’m really proud of you, you know that?” he spoke gently, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your face. You could feel the heat of affection creep up at his words. You weren’t really sure how to respond. His pride meant a lot to you. Truthfully, everything he did meant a lot. He had always been there for you, even that first night when he had no idea what was going on. He was unwavering in his support and you knew you would be in a completely different situation right now if he wasn’t by your side. You needed him, more than you ever thought possible. 
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol lowering your inhibitions or the emotions hitting you all of a sudden, or maybe a combination of both, but you found yourself feeling bold, craving him in a way that made your heart race.
"Bradley," you whispered, almost like you wanted to share a secret with him. "Can I tell you something?" 
"You can tell me anything," he replied, one hand slipping down your back and into the back pocket of your jeans as the other stayed on your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly. 
"I love you so much," you said, feeling the words spill out of your mouth without thinking.
Bradley's smile grew wider, pink dusting his cheeks.  "I love you too, Bug. More than anything."
Feeling emboldened by his words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly became more passionate as the heat between you intensified. You couldn't get enough of him, and it seemed like he felt the same way. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer before he backed the both of you up into the railing behind you. You moaned into his mouth, feeling your body react. It was like your nerve endings were on fire. 
He pulled away, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he looked down at you. His brown eyes were darkened with what was so blatantly desire, and you loved that he didn’t try to shy away from it. 
“Bug…” 
“I think I’d like to go home now,” you told him, your mind already made up. You pressed kisses into his jaw and down his neck as he groaned into the open night air. 
“Yeah,” he rasped, squeezing your butt through your pants before lifting you into his arms. You squealed as your legs wrapped around his waist and he started toward the parking lot. You didn’t even think about needing to go and say goodbye to all of your friends. “Home sounds like a good idea.” 
___
You weren’t slated to start at your new job until the following month, but Bradley convinced you that it wasn’t worth having any ties to the company that had caused all of the strife currently in your life for any longer. Your PTO was going to run out in the middle of the following week, and it was decided that you wouldn’t be going back at all. Not submitting a full two week notice was normally something that would make you feel guilty, but after the way they all treated you, you found you didn’t care all that much about how they would react. They were lucky you were going to do it in person to begin with. 
“I still think you should just send an email,” Bradley told you, his voice ringing through your car’s bluetooth as you drove toward your soon to be old office. It was late on a Wednesday afternoon, so traffic was light. 
“Dropping off my laptop and badge in person means I cut ties quicker,” you rebutted, just like you had done since you told him your plan. You had logged onto your work email last night just to put a meeting on Gretchen’s calendar for this afternoon, for the sole purpose of handing in your things and telling her you quit in person. You got a shot of amusement at imagining what her face was going to look like when you did. 
Bradley had wanted to accompany you for all of it, had hated the idea of you going to the office without him, in fact, but he hadn’t been able to slip away from his own work. He had tried to get you to wait until the next day, but you were stubborn. You wanted to get this over with. 
Bradley sighed on the other end, and you knew that was his concession. “Call me when you’re done?” 
“Of course, B.” 
Nerves twisted in your stomach as you made your way inside the building and pressed the button for the correct floor in the elevator. You took a deep, slow breath when the doors shut, trying to calm your beating heart. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you supposed it was normal. 
“You can do this,” you whispered to yourself. You cracked your neck and pushed your shoulders back when the elevator doors slid open, revealing the lobby you had become familiar with for the last year. You walked down the hallway with purpose, and you could feel stares as you did. You knew the majority of your team - Paul included - were in a meeting right now, based on the shared calendars you had taken a look at. But that didn’t mean others wouldn’t look just as hard. You knocked on Gretchen’s door with a firm fist, and she had barely started saying “come in” when you were twisting the knob and opening the door. 
She sat behind her desk, her blonde hair as pinstraight as always, and a perfectly manicured nail tapped against her crossed arms. A single eyebrow was raised, and her face just screamed condescension. Any guilt you may have harbored left you as soon as you saw her, and you set your laptop and your badge on her desk with a clank. 
“I quit.” 
The unpleasant, sour look that Gretchen’s face twisted into stayed with you as you made your way from her office and over to HR, and then all the way back to the elevator, too. You were practically floating at how satisfied you felt. You were so proud of yourself, and so damn relieved for finally being done with this place. You had said your peace and then some, and now you were done. It was a long overdue feeling. 
You pulled your phone out once you were in the elevator, and your grin was so persistently large that you thought it’d get stuck there. Bradley picked up almost immediately, and you were sure he had been waiting for your call. 
“How’d it go?” 
“Gretchen looked like a Warhead got stuck in her throat, and I have never felt so satisfied about causing those feelings in someone.” 
Your boyfriend barked out a laugh on the other end, and the sound just made you smile wider. “She deserves it. I’m proud of you, baby.” 
You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing his praise. It caused a warmth to spread through your whole entire body, and you were already ready to be back in his presence again. You got your keys out of your bag as you walked out of the building and into the parking lot. “Thanks, B. Are you still meeting me at the house?” 
That had been the other part of your plan today. You were going to kill two birds with one stone and go to the house and pack up more of your stuff, as the end of your lease was rapidly approaching. Since he hadn’t been able to come with you, instead, you had agreed that he would meet you at the house after you left the office to help. You knew, also, that he didn’t like the idea of you being there on your own. Truthfully, you didn’t either, so you were glad for his insistence. 
“I’m packing up to leave and head in that direction in the next five minutes.” 
“Alright. I’m going to go to the store and grab some boxes and tape and stuff, and then I’ll head that way. You might beat me there.” 
“That’s fine,” he assured you, and with how quick he said it, you were sure that was actually his preference. You felt yourself soften a little bit. You knew he hated not being with you right now.
“I’ll text you when I leave the store,” you promised him as you unlocked your car. “Hey, B?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I love you.” 
You pulled out of the parking lot once you had hung up with him, and you were so focused on the elation you had been feeling and what you needed to do that night, that you hadn’t even seen who else had been in the parking lot with you. 
___
You didn’t spend any more time than necessary in the store, simply running in and grabbing what you needed. Your trunk and backseat were full of boxes and packing supplies, and you shot a text off to Bradley as you had promised once you slid into the front seat. He called you when you were pulling into the neighborhood. 
“There was an accident or something on the freeway,” he told you, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. “Traffic’s backed up, so I’m still like 15 minutes out.” 
“No worries,” you reassured him, “I’m almost there. I can get started.” 
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Bradley sounded hesitant when he finally spoke again. “Bug…wait for me to go inside, please.” 
“B…” 
He must have heard the argument in your voice, because he was quick to continue, the words rushing out. “I know I’m probably just being paranoid and overprotective. But humor me, please? Just wait for me. I should be there soon.” 
You pulled into the driveway that wouldn’t be yours for much longer and put the car in park. You knew where he was coming from. Truly, you did. You knew that he had every right to feel that way, and you felt warm at him wanting to protect you. 
Bradley let out a sigh of relief when you finally murmured your agreement to stay put. “Thank you, baby. I’ll be there soon okay? I love you.” 
“I love you too. See you in a few.” 
You hung up the phone and rested your head back against the seat, figuring you might as well get comfortable. You scrolled through your social media aimlessly for a few minutes, but the longer you sat there, the more restless you became. You were eager to get inside and start packing. The quicker you did that, the quicker you would be able to get out of this place for good. A quick glance at your clock said that it was nearing 5pm now, and you knew that there was always a team meeting at this time that Paul would be in. There was no chance. 
From when you hung up with him, you figured Bradley would be there in five, ten minutes, tops. 
It would be fine. 
With that in mind, you grabbed your keys and got out of the car. You grabbed some of the boxes from the trunk and made your way to the front door. You felt the familiar anxiety settle over you as you fumbled with the lock, but you figured it was normal - expected, really, all things considered. 
It would be fine. 
It was quiet when you walked inside. The air felt almost stale inside, stifling, and there was a weird smell that made your nose scrunch. The eerie quiet sent a shiver down your spine. The first order of business would be hooking your phone up to the bluetooth speaker to surround you with noise instead of this, and maybe lighting a candle. 
You dropped your keys into the bowl at the door and set the boxes down against the back of the couch. You had only taken a few steps in when you stopped in your tracks. 
Your eyebrows furrowed, and it felt like your heart stopped before it started beating again at a rapid pace. 
Your kitchen counter was littered with flowers. Many of them were dead, stems bent and empty, the petals having wilted and fallen from them, the water inside of the vases murky and old. Some were in a weird inbetween stage, a few petals missing but hanging onto some color. And there, front and center, was the biggest vase out of the bunch. The followers were clearly fresh, so much so that you could almost smell them, if it weren’t for the sour odor of the old ones. Your brain itched with recognition, and you let out a shaky breath when you realized this bouquet was identical to the ones Bradley had delivered to your office months ago, when you first got back together. Identical to the ones that Paul had then gotten you the next day. 
There was a folded piece of paper leaning against that vase with your name scrawled across it. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, but you swallowed thickly and took slow, tentative steps.  When you got close enough, you could see how there were insects crawling amongst the dead arrangements covering your counter. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the note. 
You let out a sound that you could only describe as horrified when you read the words. 
Welcome home - I’ve been waiting for you. 
You stumbled over your own feet as you took startled steps back.Your vision blurred with tears and panic was settled so heavily on your chest that you couldn’t breathe. You needed to leave. You needed to go back out the door you just came through and wait for Bradley. You had to get away. You needed to get out. 
You whipped around, ready to run for the front door, but you didn’t even get a step in before a scream ripped from your throat. 
“You’re finally here.” 
Paul was standing right there in front of you, between you and the front door.  
You were hit with a gut wrenching, terrifying, twisted and sinking realization that you were alone with him. 
You were alone with him, and you had nowhere to go. 
------------------
Part Thirteen :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist
Notes: YIKES, BUG!! WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO INSIDE?! Sorry for the wait on this one, and for being so delayed with responses to the previous part! Life is lifeing, folks. We're almost at the end! Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤
Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!
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waldau · 6 months
Text
flustered — jeon wonwoo | 1.7k | fluff
first ever work on tumblr for any fandom! yikes. gender neutral reader. no warnings.
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people often think wonwoo isn't the kind of person to express himself freely. you know how untrue that accusation is. wonwoo is far from emotionless. only his close friends know what actually makes him crack up, and you're one of the very few who knows what makes him cry.
but you have no idea what makes him blush.
ever since you've been in a relationship, you've never once seen him blush at anything you've said. compliments don't work, not when he accepts them gracefully and carries on like nothing's happened. he doesn't shy away when the band makes him perform silly antics for the fans, opting to do them with the small, ever-present smile on his face.
even mingyu is clueless when you ask him what it is that could possibly make wonwoo blush. teasing him about you never works because it just makes him smile even more.
so you decide to give it a go and try everything you can to make his cheeks turn red. it's silly, but it should be worth the efforts.
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wonwoo doesn't like waking up early when he doesn't have to, but when you wake up today morning, his side of the bed is empty. you get up and walk to the living room, careful not to make any noise.
sure enough, wonwoo's sitting on the sofa with his laptop on the coffee table and a notepad and a pen on his lap, occasionally jotting down something here and there. you watch him for a minute or two before you walk up to him and put your arms around his neck, bending down so your lips are right next to his ear. "good morning," you whisper in the most morning-y voice you can muster. you don't think your voice has ever been this low before.
wonwoo doesn't even flinch. he grips your hands with one of his and turns around to press a kiss to your cheek. "good morning, darling," he says, turning to the laptop to pause the video on his screen before he looks at you again. "did you sleep well?"
"till i realized you weren't sleeping beside me, yes."
he chuckles and takes his hand off yours, laying down before raising his arms to you. you've done this a hundred times before — tumbling over the sofa and onto his chest and into his arms, secure.
he presses a kiss to your head. "do you have any plans for today?"
"none, unless you count me wanting to spend the rest of the day with you." you can't see his reaction, but his heartbeat is steady as it always is. you can feel his smile against your head.
"that's what i wanted to do, too, but do you want to go to the museum today? i know you've been wanting to for a while. maybe we could catch a movie after that."
you don't have the heart to say anything but yes. it sounds like the perfect day, even if you didn't achieve your goal.
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the next time you try is when you get into an argument.
it's not an argument, not really. just a minor disagreement.
about a certain cat you want as a pet, and it reaches its final stage with wonwoo on his gaming chair and you standing in front of him, hands on your hips. "are you saying you're so heartless that you can't adopt the poor cat?"
"don't twist my words! it's not like i don't want to adopt it."
"that's the impression you're giving right now."
wonwoo sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i want a cat. and i want it with you. but don't you think it's not fair when i'm not home for a lot of time? i don't want you to raise it all by yourself. what if it doesn't know who i am?"
you stifle a snort. "that's your main concern?"
wonwoo tilts his head. "what else would it be?"
"you're afraid you're going to be an absent dad?"
"is that so bad?"
you let out a laugh. "no. not at all. but does that mean we can get a cat when we move in together?"
wonwoo hesitates. "yes, but i'd rather get it when i don't tour as much, you know?"
you sigh. "you just don't think it's cute enough, do you?"
"what? no! of course not! i was the one who showed it to you, not the other way round."
wonwoo looks cute like this, you think, arguing with you about the tiniest things ever. you hope you'll always argue about stuff like this. without a second thought, you move into his lap and hold his face in your hands, pressing kisses all over it. he lets out a confused noise before holding your waist and letting you do what you want.
"i love you, you know that?" you say earnestly, looking into his eyes.
"i love you too?" he says, frowning slightly.
"you look cute when you're serious. like you're trying to be angry with me, but you're not actually angry. and you also look a bit hot."
he blinks. "are you trying to seduce me into getting you a cat?"
you gasp dramatically. "why would you think that? i mean, what if i was?"
he looks at you for a moment before he chuckles and presses a kiss to your neck. "do you really want it that bad? i'll look into it, i promise."
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the third time you try is when you're at the supermarket a few weeks later. wonwoo prefers shopping late at night, especially on friday nights, because there's not many people around.
you don't mind. you like spending late nights out with wonwoo, letting time pass while the night bleeds into day. especially because the day in question is saturday.
you're currently in the dairy products aisle, wonwoo looking at two different brands of tofu and comparing their expiration dates when you suddenly wrap your hands around his waist, pressing yourself to his back. there's no one else around you, and you really hope there's no camera capturing your antics.
wonwoo doesn't budge, simply putting one of the packets back. "i think we'll take this," he says, dropping the remaining one into your basket. "you're going to have to teach me how to make that soup."
you don't respond, still pressed to his back.
wonwoo sets down the basket and tugs you off him, pulling you around so you're facing him.
then he tips your chin up, leans down, and places a gentle kiss on your lips.
you don't know what to say when he pulls away. you can't even tell if it lasted for a few seconds or some minutes. he's worn his nighttime pajamas to the supermarket and he still looks amazing. you know you look like an idiot when he smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"you could have just asked for a kiss, you know." then he turns back to look at the other products like he didn't just steal your breath away in the middle of a supermarket close to midnight.
you were trying to get him flustered, but it's not like you're complaining.
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it finally happens, but when you're expecting it the least. you and wonwoo have just gotten back from the fair that's been open near your place for the past week, somehow having time off from work on the same day.
you've enjoyed yourself for the first time in weeks, strolling through the place with your hand in wonwoo's, sipping on hot chocolate, letting him win you a mario figurine (he'd wanted to try again to get you a plushie, but you found the figurine infinitely funnier), and just taking a ton of pictures with and of him.
you've also bought a lot of little stuff which has amounted to the two bags currently occupying your hands, which is why you sheepishly ask wonwoo if he can unlock the door.
he takes your keys from your jacket without question and opens the door, letting you in first. you're thinking about whether you should set the bags aside and untie your shoes or risk a little damage by just kicking them off, when wonwoo slides past you in your stupidly little hallway and switches on the lights.
his foot catches with yours and he ends up with his back to the wall, while you trip and turn in a desperate attempt not to fall on your face and break the little jars of various jams you've bought.
you get a little more than what you've bargained for when you stumble forward and land your hands on the wall, one on either side of his chest. you're just thankful neither of you is hurt, but when you look up, wonwoo's face is slowly turning red.
for the first time in the two years you've been together, wonwoo's flustered. you're glad he flipped the lights on, because seeing him with a blush on his face seems almost alien. his vision constantly flits between your face and the spot over your shoulder, unwilling to meet your eyes.
you don't know what to say. "wonwoo. i'll fall if i keep holding on any longer."
"oh," he breathes, "yes. right." he looks at you for a moment, unsure how to maneuver you to stand without making you lose your balance, and settles for his hands around your waist. you manage to stand with his help, putting the bags on the floor carefully before a grin makes its way across your face.
"of all the things i've been trying to do to get you to blush, that's what did it?"
he looks at your eyes and then at the floor. "why would you even try to do that?"
"i've never seen you blush! i had to."
"did you get what you wanted?"
he still isn't meeting your eyes. his glasses are halfway across his nose because of the angle you're at, so you push them up for him. "i didn't even plan for this to happen, you know. but it's definitely what i wanted. and you're pretty," you add, revelling in the redness of his ears.
he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle. "is there any chance you'll let me off the hook anytime soon?"
"as if."
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peterparkouryo · 1 year
Text
rebound ii | ✧.*
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✧.*
prompt; After Peter ends your relationship after admitting to being in love with someone else, you're a mess and very very miserable.
warnings: semi heavy angst, fluff if you squint
word count: 4.7k
part one part three
It's been four days since your birthday, and your break up with Peter. 
You were sad, no you were miserable since that day and you cried every chance you got. It's not because it was on your birthday, if it was any other day you'd probably be just as worst.
Today was Monday, which meant today was also another dreadful, long and dragging, boring day of school. You'd rather be in your bed, eating ice cream as you cried watching a rom-com that was just as bad as your life.
When you got to school, you went straight to your locker, put your things inside and got all needed accessories for your upcoming class. The first class you needed to be at was social studies, which thankfully didn't have him in it, just your friend Betty and his friend Ned.
"Hey, Happy belated birthday!" Betty quickly exclaims the moment you walk into the class room, a couple students glancing at you or her in curiosity.
You send a grateful and albeit, weak smile as you slowly but surely make your way to your assigned seat which just so happens to be right next to her.
"Thanks." You softly mumble just as you sit next to her, the blonde haired girl excitedly turning towards you with too much anticipation.
"So, how was your birthday?" She asked.
"Also, sorry I couldn't be there." Betty quickly added before you could answer.
You wanted to tell her that it was fine, that you enjoyed your birthday with just you and your mom but the last final hour of your birthday was truly the worst part of that whole 24 hour day.
"It's fine, umm, I guess it was okay." You tell her, leaving out the very heartbreaking details you so badly wanted to tell her.
"Did Peter shower you in presents? Did he take you on a date!?" Ohh, did he give you that necklace that you've been ogling for the past few months?" Betty asked, question after question.
Now, you had no other choice but to tell her, and quite frankly, you did not want that to be the agenda for the day, but curse Betty and her curious, bubbly personality.
"Actually, we broke up." You tell it how it is, not sparing to glance at her bewildered expression.
"Broke up?" She repeated in disbelief. 
You hum in response, digging into your backpack next to you and pulling out your notebook to jot down the notes on the board, completely trying to block out Betty and her confusion.
"When?" Betty quizzed, her eyes switching back and fourth from your notebook and your side profile.
"He broke up with me, on my birthday." You tell her, looking back down to your notebook, now scribbling nonsense.
Before she could even respond, you continue.
"Apparently, he was in love with Michelle, you know the girl from our math class? The whole entire time. Well, I don't exactly know when he fell in love with her, but it certainly was during our relationship." You rambled, holding back the frustration and tears that threatened to break through.
days you've been going through for the past few days. You still think it's your fault for why Peter broke up with you, he probably found you boring and you didn't give him the attention he needed, which is why you strongly believe he fell for someone much better than you.
You didn't hate Michelle, you actually genuinely liked the brown curly haired girl, she was quiet and observant and super smart, so you can see why Peter liked her a lot. She could also be dark at times from what you remember, and sure it confused you of how and why Peter liked that but maybe you didn't know your ex as well as you thought.
"Y/N, I am so sorry." Betty said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you didn't shrug off because you honestly needed some sort of comfort from the past few days.
"It's nothing, I'll be fine." You lied, turning your attention away from her to look at the board once again as the teacher finally decided to teach the class.
--
It was finally lunch time, and normally you'd sit with Peter and Ned, but that was a no go. Well, it would've been a no go if the other tables weren't full and if Ned hadn't invited you to sit next to him. And who were you to decline an invitation from the nicest boy ever?
So, you made your way to the table that was made for awkward moments, only seeing Ned sit there happily eating his lunch.
"Oh, hi Y/N." Ned greeted you just as you sat directly across from him with your lunch tray in hand.
"Hey." You greeted back, showing a smile.
You knew you were going to regret sitting here, given the fact that Peter is bound to sit here as well and there's no doubt that Michelle would be sitting here also, but you tried to ignore that initiated gut feeling and focus on anything and everything else.
Maybe if Peter saw that you were trying to move on, he'd believe that you did, though all of that is complete and utter bullshit.
"So, you know how in our science class we have that upcoming project about disparities?" You hear Ned's voice ask, glancing at him just in time as he shoves a salty fry into his mouth.
You nod, playing with your food instead, the anxiety slowly creeping into your body.
"Well, I was thinking since you and uhh...you know what never mind. Do you want to be my partner?" Ned questioned quickly, eyes filled with hope.
"Are you only asking me because I'm the smartest in that class?" You tease, narrowing your eyes at him in amusement.
Ned lets out a whole-heartedly chuckle, but before he could joke back a voice you very much expected interrupts you both.
"Sorry, the lunch line was really long..." Peter says defeatedly, tossing his friend a bag of chips  as he sat down next to him.
Okay, so maybe you should've declined Ned's offer, but he was sort of your friend and you didn't have lunch with Betty anymore, plus sitting alone would probably be just as miserable as sitting here with your ex, who was in love with someone else.
You're sure you hear Ned respond to Peter's apology, but you're not quite too sure since your brain and ears are filled with anxiety, your head feeling fuzzy at Peter's presence. You could sometimes occasionally feel Peter's glances, probably curious as to why you're sitting here, but you wanted to make a point that you're over him and you didn't sit here because you cared about him still (which was a lie), but because Ned invited you and he was your sort of friend.
"Michelle's in the library today, since she's not really a people's person." Peter informed Ned after his question as of where the brown curly haired girl was.
You were thankful for that, you didn't think you could handle much more of misery.
You're not one hundred precent sure if they're dating now, but if they are you failed to notice, and maybe Peter is just deciding to take things slow since the boy did just get out of a relationship, with you.
The boys continue to make small talk, you ate in silence, or played with your food in silence until the lunch period was over.
And as soon as the bell rung, you hurriedly got up from the table, threw away your lunch and made a bee-line for the cafeteria doors, shoving and squeezing your way through the herd of students.
You sighed in relief as you made it into the hallway, holding a hand to your chest, almost, just almost crying right then and there but you remembered that you were in public, and at school too.
Just as the students that once littered the busy hallway made their ways to the next class that they had, you heard your name being called in the now shallow hallway.
You turn around hesitantly since you already know that voice all too well.
It wasn't Peter, but Michelle, coming from the library doors.
You always knew somehow god wasn't on your side.
"Hey, uh..." The girl started as soon as she approached you, a clad of books stuffed in her right arm.
"Hey.." You mumbled awkwardly, sparing glances at a few students who walked by to get to their next class.
Michelle was as awkward as you were, it was very obvious in the way that the tension around you surfaced rather quickly. You both knew why, it was an unsaid understanding.
"I think I owe you an apology." Michelle states, her eyes never leaving your face as you slowly trailed yours to look into hers.
"For what?" You dumbly ask.
You knew why, you just needed to hear her say it.
"I never meant for Peter to fall in love with me, and to hurt you. I honestly didn't think you two were a thing until a week ago." She admitted, and you could sense how nervous her voice was with that confession.
 You knew you had a reason not to hate her, she was just as confused as you.
"It's fine, really." You lie, showing a rather obvious fake smile.
"No, no, it's not. I know he broke up with you on your birthday which is a really shitty thing to do, and I also know that it's not fine. If I could take back his feelings for me and give them to you, I would." Michelle concluded, her aura anything but foulness.
It was really reassuring knowing that the girl felt guilty for your now ex's feelings for her, her showing you the unexpected sympathy, something you thought would be the last thing you would receive from her.
But it was always really confusing how if she has feelings for Peter as well, why feel sorry for you? You did want him to be happy, and if it wasn't with you, so be it. You didn't want to be the reason Peter's unhappiness wasn't fulfilled.
"Michelle, listen." You started, standing up straight to look at her.
"I may be going through a lot with this, but I don't want to be the reason Peter is unhappy. That's the last thing I ever want for him. So, if he wants to be with you..." You trailed off with a shrug, hoping she understood where you were going with this.
Instead of answering the girl just stares at you, her eyes confused, as well as her facial expression, the features slowly falling into a more understanding expression, something you wanted her to see.
"Are you sure? I didn't want to get in the way of any unsaid closure..." She says, pressing her lips into a straight line.
Closure. The word only used to resolve problems. You didn't think breaking up with Peter needed closure.
"Oh, right...closure. I guess we do need to talk." You sigh.
"I would before he decides anything else. I mean that is if you're ready, it's only been four days." Michelle tells you, pushing up her books more into her arm as they were slipping.
You knew she was right, you did say yourself you wanted Peter to be happy, even if it was in a short amount of time.
"I'll just text him and ask him to meet me in the library after school." You tell her, hearing the bell ring, signalling the final warning to get to class.
"Good idea, tell me what he says." Michelle says with a nod before walking past you, mumbling a soft 'bye', and you too decide to make your way to your next period.
--
You unfortunately kept true to your word to Michelle, and as soon as your last period was over you texted the last person you wanted to see, asking him if you two could talk and to meet in the library after school.
It only took him maybe five or six minutes to respond, saying a quick 'okay'.
So here you were, really nervous, scared, maybe even sad for obvious reasons, waiting at a table that was way in the back of the library, not wanting to be disturbed by any teachers or students that lingered around in the book filled room.
You silently played with your fingers, your entire body on fire with anxiety. You sort of wished he would hurry up so it can get over and done with.
To be quite honest, it reminds you of the time he admitted to having a crush on you. You both were nervous for two totally different reasons. You, being nervous because you thought he was going to tell you he didn't want to be your friend anymore (and rightfully so because of how he was acting during that time), and him, because he of course liked you.
Any oncoming thoughts were caught short as your gaze was met with a familiar head set of curls, and compelling brown eyes coming your way, in a dazed state.
"Sorry, I uh...was busy." Peter mumbled, setting his backpack (the third one you saw that week), onto the library floor next to the seat he pulled out to sit down at.
"It's fine." You shrugged off, your hands now in your lap, keeping your distance, something you hope he didn't notice.
"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He asked, looking at you expectingly.
It took a lot of will power to keep your composure.
"Well, I talked to Michelle.." You trailed off, watching his every movement, seeing his pupils dilate just tiny bit.
"Oh?" Peter questioned, slightly biting his lip nervously.
"Yeah, she said we needed some sort of closure before you decide to get into a relationship to her." You told him, looking down at your fiddling hands in your lap.
Peter took notice of how truly nervous you were, and he couldn't help but feel bad, knowing he was the main reason for this.
He also noticed the lack of sleep, due to the much obvious under bags in your eyes, something he had a feeling also had to do with him.
"Right, closure." Peter nodded, clearing his throat.
There were a load of questions you had for him, many that probably would help you better understand how, when and why he fell out of love with you the moment he spent more time with Michelle.
His distance from you during the upcoming end of your relationship put you in a spiral of thoughts, the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night. It also didn't help that you were already an over thinker and the thought of messing up your relationship with Peter always scared you.
Most people would say that dreams come true not nightmares. It wounded you more than anything that you biggest fear did in fact come true.
You didn't really care if he was going to end up dating Michelle, it was bound to happen anyway. You just wanted to know the when and why. You wanted to know what you lacked during that time so in future relationships, you'd be able to avoid it.
"Before we talk, I, um, bought you this." You hear Peter say, the boy reaching inside of his backpack, digging in it before retreating it with an item, holding it toward you.
You reluctantly look up from where your eyes were practically trained on your lap, your hands still shyly there.
It was a small box decorated in your favourite colour, purple.
"What's this?" You curiously asked, taking it from his expecting hand.
"Just a late birthday gift." Peter shrugged, obviously not aware of just how inappropriate and inconvenient his timing was.
"Oh." Was all you said before stuffing it in your pocket.
You'd open it later.
As the day went on, the awkward tension build up, rarely anyone now was in the library, a few ongoing studiers, parents with their kids, or just advocate readers. You wanted some sort of miracle to happen so you wouldn't have to go through this uncomfortable situation.
It was clear neither of you knew how to start this conversation. You had no idea what to say or how to approach the topic of the closure you needed.
You couldn't tell if Peter noticed how miserable your appearance was, both mentally and physically, but you knew he must have known somehow.
"I'm really sorry I broke up with you on your birthday, had I known...I'd probably would've waited." Peter finally speaks up, with a heavy lump down his throat.
Your hands bare on the table as you shuffle in your seat, preparing on a proper response.
The thought of Peter going to break up with your regardless if it was your birthday or not makes your heart feel heavy with a forlorn weight.
"It's, I, it's okay, I guess." You murmur, blinking rapidly for effect.
Another silence settled, and this time you did nothing (like you were before) to speak up and stop it. You thought the more quiet, the less talking and you wouldn't get hurt anymore if either one of you even tried to utter a word.
"I know I hurt you," The boy started, and you look up, waiting for him to continue. "But, I can't say that I, you know what, never mind." Peter waves off, struggling to find the write words.
"And you're barely saying anything makes this a lot harder than it should be Y/N." He says in defeat, reaching out to clasp his hands onto yours.
There was nothing on your end, nothing to be said, nothing you wanted to say. Though you needed closure, you really had no idea what to say. How do you tell someone that you clearly still had feelings for that you love him?
Peter of course, had no idea you even loved him, he of course knew you probably still harboured feelings for him, but he didn't know you had stronger deeper feelings for him. Had the boy not broken up with you on your birthday, you probably would slipped the L word, which probably wouldn't make anything better if you're being honest.
"I'm sorry, I just....don't know what to say." You admit, the warmth of his skin on top of yours sending a wave of shivers from your arms through your entire body.
"Start by telling me how you feel." Peter suggested, and that might not had been the brightest of ideas.
You felt like shit. There hadn't been a day that went by after your dreadful birthday where you didn't.
You squint your eyes at him, slowly removing your hands from his grasp.
"I feel like shit." You tell him, giving the boy a timid look, watching him nod slowly in understanding.
"Right, probably should've guessed that." Peter said shyly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"Sorry." He adds on.
"You say that a lot, but do you actually mean it?" You ask him quietly, watching his pupils dilate at your request.
"'Course I do!" Peter almost exclaims, his eyes now wide.
"I-, listen I know I hurt you bad, but the last thing I want is for you to hate me." He stated, pouting slightly.
You didn't hate him, and you think that's even worse.
"I don't hate you, don't think I ever can." You say, pressing your lips together.
It'd probably be a good thing to tell him you loved him, but you were in public and it would hurt even worst if he neglected your love (which would most likely happen) in such a public area.
Maybe you should wait till later, or just honestly get it over and done with, the sooner the better, you thought.
"If I'm being honest Peter, I think-" You begin, your heart pounding wildly against your chest. Your head screaming at you not to do it, but when have you ever listened to your head instead of your heart?
"I think I love you." You whisper at your quietest volume, and hopefully god was on your side,. Hoping maybe Peter didn't hear it, but you lacked the knowledge of knowing Peter's secret abilities.
Either time froze or Peter was stuck in place for whatever reason (you were sure you knew) it was. Things seemed to have frozen around you, the people you were once aware of now gone, just you and your ex in this moment. And was it such a vulnerable one.
You watch as the boy's mouth fell open and closed, trying to conjure up something, anything to say at your sudden confession.
Your heart fell deeper into your stomach as the silence grew, you wished this time it wasn't so evident, the lack of ventilate from him bothering your head.
After a two minutes of silence Peter quickly gets up from his seat, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder almost clumsily.
"I-, I havetogo, sorry." The boy swiftly says, stumbling over his words before nearly tripping over a few chairs.
You figured this wouldn't happen, which might have been ten times worst than him actually saying something in return.
--
You had wiped the falling tears from your face, the mirror in front of you mocking your actions, but no matter what, the wet substance from your eyes would still fall down a lot heavier.
You sniffled before exiting the bathroom, making a beeline to your bedroom, closing the door and cuddling up into the bed.
After your conversation (if you'd even call it that) with Peter at the library, the minute you got home, you were hit with a wave of saddness. You cried more than you did on your birthday, and now you wish you hadn't told your ex boyfriend you loved him, didn't matter anyway.
You were grateful your mom had a late shift tonight, you couldn't bare the thought of her seeing you at your worst, questioning why you were the way you were. You lacked to even tell the woman you and Peter were no longer dating. You figured you'd wait a few weeks then drop the bomb on her, hopefully she'd spare Peter, but given her personality, you truly doubt it.
The crying hadn't really stopped, so when your face hit your soft pillows and more tears that got more intense as the night went on, you weren't all that surprised.
What did surprised you was the obsessive knocking at your bedroom window.
You didn't bother to wipe your tears when you sat up from your bed, aiming your direction at the window, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you saw your neighbourhood superhero instead of some sort of bird.
"Spider-Man?" You questioned bewilderedly as you approach your bedroom window, opening it from its handle.
You knew of him from the news, and it was really shocking to you that him of all people were here at your window at something at night for whatever the reason was.
"What are you doing here?" You ask him again, watching the hero crouch on the railing of your fire escape.
"Believe it or not but I heard you..." He says steadily, and you rose an eyebrow at him.
"Not that I was you know listening or anything, but I was near by and my senses can pick up things from far away." Spider-Man quickly says, holding out a hand in defence.
"Oh." You say, tilting your head as you wiped your tears.
"Seemed like a damsel in distress sort of thing..." He trailed off, expectingly waiting for your response.
You had no reason to tell this stranger your secrets, you both knew that, but something inside of you wanted to. You hadn't even known the hero for five seconds and yet you were ready to tell him your deepest darkest confessions.
"It's nothing." You settled for, having some moral ground.
"Sad movie?" Spider-Man suggested.
"Yeah." You nod, sniffling a bit.
Maybe he thought you were in some sort of trouble, but the more you thought about it the less sense it made to to tell a stranger about your conversation with your ex at a public library. 
What advice could he possible give that would make you feel better? You don't know if he's ever even gone through something like that.
"Oh, well hope you feel better." Spider-Man offered. "Just doing my part of the 'friendly neighbourhood' motto." He adds, making you chuckle.
"Thanks." You smile.
You couldn't pin point it, but he seemed oddly familiar, maybe it was because he was so nice to you after your horrible day, week even, but you really appreciated his kind gesture.
"I-" He started, unravelling himself from his crouching position to stand on your fire escape.
"Y/N." Spider-Man says, and your eyes widen marginally.
Had you told him your name? You couldn't remember, but never the less even if you didn't, you wondered how he knew in the first place. Maybe you slipped it out from habit or he was some stalker type of hero.
The hero seemed to have noticed your confused state, the vigilante quickly ripping off his mask to try and calm your nerves, but you recognize his face all too well, instinctively going to shut the window, but unfortunately for your his senses way too quick for yours, his strength inhumane.
"Wait!" Peter cried out as you still tried to close the window but to no avail. 
Peter easily slides the window up, causing you to let go repulsively, backing up from it as he slowly climbed in.
Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but where would you go, who would you tell? Now you never would tell anyone about your ex being the Queens superhero, but you don't think you can bare having this secret known to you so suddenly.
Peter being Spider-Man is a surprise, of course, and him using his alter ego just to talk to you in some sense after quite literally running away from your confession was making your mind fuzzy to say the least.
You started to shake your head for no particular reason, watching the boy close your window before turning back to you, his hair wild most likely from the mask, and a evident pout on his face.
"You-, you love me?" Peter asked, his voice cracking.
You couldn't conjure up the right words, your mind blank with empty thoughts. It was still shocking to you that Peter of all people was the spiderling you only ever seen on the news.
You never paid much attention to Spider-Man, and if you did, you'd probably would have figured out that Peter was him if you connected the dots properly.
"Y/N, please answer me." He pleaded, breaking you from your train of thoughts. You were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights at this point.
"I don't know..." You whispered, fiddling with with your fingers as sweat trickled down your forehead.
"But at the library you said-" Peter starts.
"I know what I said." You tell him, meeting his brown eyed gaze.
You blinked back tears, Peter approaching your figure, and you would had backed up to get away from him but you were stuck in-between him and the bed. Fortunately he placed his mask on top of your bed, releasing it from his brutal grip, you two now in close distance.
You were getting deja vu, the boy staring at your face, perfecting every angle he could before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath he had been holding in.
"You really shouldn't had told me that." He whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, nervously nibbling on it.
Peter reopens his eyes, greeting you with the honey colour you were familiar with, his pupils getting smaller as it adjusted to the light, you felt bad for the sad expression that was held on his face.
He slowly brings a hand up to your face, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen down your face before pushing some of your hair behind your right ear.
It's been a long time since he's showed you this kind of affirmation, the last time he ever did something remotely similar was the time he had broken up with you. You had no clue what he was thinking, was he going to kiss you, or scold at you for expressing your love for him when he clearly loved another? The possibilities were endless like the ocean, and so you wished he'd only say his motive so your anxiety wasn't so obvious.
Peter's eyes dip to your lips before glancing back to your eyes, him silently asking for permission. You give the boy a nod as your answer, mirroring his actions when he closes his eyes and leans in.
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altheasmeadow · 8 months
Text
Ghosted
WC: 1.8K
Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader
Warnings: Talks of anxiety attacks, ghosting, arguing.
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“You need to get back into the dating world, you can’t just be the third wheel with Hyunjin and I all of the time.” Felix tries to justify his actions.
“Wow just say you don’t wanna be friends then Felix.” She smirked as she wiped down her counters. Her traitorous bestfriend was trying to talk her into getting an online dating profile so she can finally stop overworking herself, not that she saw it that way.
“You know that’s not what I mean, but come on you never go on dates and you could meet the one! Just give it a chance.”
“No Felix.” She said sternly moving further into her kitchen, Felix following like a lost puppy still trying to plead his case.
“I already made the account.”
“Why on Earth would you do that?” She asked, spinning to pin him with a glare, feeling very frustrated with the man right at this moment.
“Oh come on! I know tons of people on the app, Hyunjin and I even met on it so you should give it a try.”
“If you want me to stop hanging around you and Hyunjin you can go ahead and tell me, don’t try to force a relationship on me.” She said angrily, causing the blonde to shrink back slightly as he took in the implications of his approach. While she had taken the third wheel thing as a joke at first she was seemingly offended now.
“That’s not what I mean!” 
“Sure seems like it.” She mumbled, snatching her phone from Felix, only now noticing he had it this whole time, the app already open. “Go home.”
“Oh come on, I’ll stop pushing but this is our day. Don’t break the routine.”
“No Felix, go have a date with Hyunjin or something, I’m not in the mood anymore.”
“I get I upset you but can’t we just move on?”
“No Felix please leave.” She said not even looking at him as she moved across the room to open the front door to show shhe is being serious about his departure.
“Just think about it.” He whispered sadly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaving. 
Talking to Hyunjin wasn’t the same as talking to Felix, having known the younger for much longer she was much more comfortable, and Hyunjin rarely hung out with her without Felix, but the second Felix came home in tears about how the situation went down, Hyunjin understood that this wasn’t gonna be something easy to get over, so he divided his time so he could care for both parties, ignoring the woman’s protests about how he should be with his boyfriend.
“What about him?” Hyunjin wondered, swiping through the app, having convinced her to just swipe through to see who all was around.
“Too manly.” She said barely sparing a glance.
“Well he is a man, so.”
“Not what I mean.”
“I know, but if I’m sassy enough you might actually pay attention to what I’m showing you.”
“I don’t care about stupid dating. Especially if you guys are just trying to get me away from you guys, I’ll just stop crashing your dates. It’s fine I don’t need a stupid date to occupy myself.” She sighed, jotting down more notes for her work.
“That’s not our intention, we genuinely just want you to be happy.” Hyunjin tried to express only to frown when she showed no sign of acknowledging his words, he looked back down at the phone only to gasp loudly.
“Oh My God! Look!” Hyunjin screeched, shoving the device into her face excitedly, it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light, which felt like forever for the dramatic man. “Look! Look!”
“I would be able to if it wasn’t basically on my eye.” She snarked, snatching the phone, only to see the most gorgeous smile she’s ever seen filling up her screen. 
She audibly gasped, unconsciously moving her thumb to see more, each picture grabbing her attention more and more. Hyunjin watched with an excited grin as she took in the man with awe written on her features. She swiped down to view the bio and her eyes almost popped out of her sockets. He was seemingly perfect.
She sighed internally knowing it was a long shot, swiping right before throwing the phone back to Hyunjin so she didn’t have to see if there was a match or not. “Holy Shit!” The exclaimation caused her to jolt in her seat, scared by the abrupt noise. “You matched!” He screeched, shoving the phone in her face yet again, the light causing a headache to begin to form. 
And that is how she got into a routine, everyday her and Song Mingi, her match,  would messge beginning with cordial quick chats following into much deeper conversations, sometimes leading into nightly phone calls. It was adorable, especially to Hyunjin who was gossiping to Felix every chance he got about how their friend Mingi matched with their bestfriend all thanks to him. 
And everything seemed to be going well, until the day of the date came. After prettying herself up and mentally preparing herself to meet possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, she was thoroughly disappointed when he didn’t show. With no other choice the woman trunged back to her apartment feeling defeated, missing a frantic man rushing into the restaurant looking panicked, he really shouldn’t have expected her to still be there but his panic attack took way longer than usual to calm down and he then needed to look semi composed, by time he got there he was two hours late. Embarrassed he went home to try and figure out how to fix the issue, maybe he can ask a friend for help.
And so he did, the next day he met with Felix at his boyfriend’s cafe to discuss his mistake, unknowingly Felix already heard of what happened last night when his bestfriend had called him in tears, cursing him for getting her onto the dating app. She genuinely felt a strong connection to the intellectual tall boy, only to be dumped like that.
“Okay operation cupid is a go. You know the plan?” Hyunjin asked his boyfriend before Mingi showed up, earning an eye roll from the blonde.
“Of course I know the plan, I’m the one that came up with it.” 
“That's right…Okay he’s here go!” Hyunjin rushed out moving to look busy even though it was quite obvious his nosey self was listening.
Step 1: Get Mingi’s side of the story.
“I’m so sorry to call and dump all of this on you, you’re just the only one I know with good relationship experience.” Mingi explained looking pathetic if Felix was being honest. He almost resembled a kicked puppy.
“It’s all good, what’s going on?” Felix prompted allowing Mingi to go into his story about how he got panicked about the date and accidentally psyched himself right into a panic attack, but nobody was there to calm him down so it took longer than usual to even be able to comprehend anything, and by time he could it was too late, and he was too embarrassed to reach out, what if she was mad at him.
“I’m sure if you explain it’ll all be fine.” Felix reassured,  but Mingi looked panicked at the thought of telling a new person in his life about his disorder, it was personal. 
Step 2: Get her there.
That part was a little more difficult for Hyunjin. It took a lot of coaxing to get her out of her house where she was trying to drown herself in work to not feel embarrassed. But thankfully after explaining Felix was busy and couldn’t bring him lunch she was on her way with some food. Tentatively walking in with her hood pulled over her head and sunglasses over her eyes to help with her pounding headache.
“Oh look at you being the bestfriend possible!” Hyunjin cheered rushing over to embrace the tired woman, the ruckus gaining some attention but it didnt last long, nobody sparing more than a glance except Felix.
“Hyunjin.” She said monotonously, causing the tall man to gulp.
“Yes beautiful?” He covered with a sweet grin.
“Tell me why I can see Felix in my line of sight when you told me he was busy.”
“He is! He’s talking to an old friend.” 
“Mhmm, well I’m leaving now.”
Step 3: get them to meet
“Wait! Felix wanted to talk to you about something.” Hyunjin panicked trying to usher her into his boyfriend’s direction.
“He’s talking to someone right now, he can just tell me later.” She rolled her eyes trying to leave again, but Hyunjin all but threw her over his shoulder and carried her over to the table, settling her next to Mingi before sliding in next to Felix.
“What the hell man!” She grunted holding her stomach where his boney shoulder dug into, only earning an unapologetic shrug from the dramatic man.
“Oh my god!” She heard a deep voice gasp out next to her causing her eyes to widen and her head to spin.
“Mingi?” She grasped out before throwing herself out of the seat and rushing to leave the cafe very much annoyed at the set up.
“Wait wait wait just hear me out!” Mingi panted, catching up with her with a quick sprint. 
“Hear what out? You stood me up and now you’re talking to my friends?” 
“Well that’s not exactly what happened, I didn’t know they were your friends. Felix is my friend from dance, I called him because I messed up last night.” He rushed to explain, reaching to gently grasp her wrist. “I got too in my head and had a full blown panic attack, I blacked out for a bit after and by time I came to and washed back up I was already an hour and a half late, I showed up anyways hoping for some reason maybe I could still fix my mistake. But you weren’t there. So I called Felix for advice. I was too embarrassed to reach out until I knew for sure how to fix it the right way.” His eyes were watery and filled with guilt as he looked at her pleadingly.
“So you didn’t purposefully stand me up?” She asked with a slight tilt of the head.
“God no! Never! You’re the first person I’ve felt such a genuine connection to in a long time, please give me a chance to fix this.” He pleaded, moving to sit on his knees before her as if he was begging, making her giggle a bit at his determination.
“Do you like Ice Cream?” She wondered, making him look at her incredulously, “I know a really cute ice cream place, we can go now if you’re up for it.” She offered, causing him to spring to his feet, grabbing her hand and pulling her to his car, opening the door for her before hopping in just as quick, the eagerness in his movements causing her to stifle her laugh. And then they were off.
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