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thisapplepielife · 2 days
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Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May warm-up round.
These Keys?
Prompt: Get a Job | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Off-Screen Recreational Weed Use | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: AU, Gareth Fakes It Until He Can Make It, Car Dealership, Gareth & Steve, Meet Ugly, Eddie Only Tortures Those He Loves Most
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Gareth is dozing at his desk, when a knock on his office door startles him awake, "Your two o'clock is here." 
Gareth didn't remember having a two o'clock, but he stands up and tries to smooth out his suit. It's two sizes too big, and something Eddie found for him at a thrift store. It's ugly, but works, for now. He's just working this job selling cars, saving some goddamn money, until the band can start playing full-time. Hopefully. That's the dream, anyway.
He's not very good at it, not like Eddie would be, but Eddie was a no-go with his hair that he refused to cut to be a corporate shill, or whatever he ranted about.
There's a guy standing in the showroom, waiting. Preppy and coiffed within an inch of his life. Great. 
But Gareth approaches him, because he looks like he has money. And money means the chance at a commission. So, Gareth tries to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.
"I'm Steve. We talked on the phone earlier," this guy says, and Gareth reaches out to shake his hand. He has no memory of this alleged conversation. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so stoned with Eddie during his lunch break.
Rolling out of the van loose and faded after lunch, probably wasn't the best idea he's ever had. 
But he hates this job. He can't sell cars. He knows nothing about them. 
"What can I help you with, Steve?" Gareth asks, and Steve's just staring at him, definitely annoyed. What's his damn problem?
"As I said on the phone, my lease is up. I need to find out how much it will be to buy mine out, or lease something new."
"Cool. Cool. Totally, man. We can do that."
"How about this one?" Gareth asks, looking at a BMW he's never seen on the lot before. It's shiny. Really, really shiny. He runs his hand over the roof. "Pretty, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Steve says, but sounds less than enthused, crossing his arms over his chest, and it looks a little aggressive, "Well, how much? What's the mileage?"
Man, he's bitchy.
There's no sticker, but Gareth can find out how much they're asking. He'll just bullshit until then. 
"It's new on the lot," Gareth says, and tries to pull up on the handle, but it doesn't budge.
"Locked, huh?" Steve asks. "Maybe you need the keys?"
Gareth presses his face to the window, to see if he can see the odometer from here, but can't.
"Yeah, I'll get the keys. I'll be right back. Wait here."
"Sure, okay. I'll be waiting," Steve snaps, and Gareth strides off towards the dealership. 
When he comes back, with no keys, Steve is talking to Keith. Goddamnit. 
"Do you know where the keys to this car are?" Gareth asks Keith, interrupting.
Steve pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, "These keys?"
"Where'd you get those?" Gareth asks.
"It's my car, Gareth. This is the car I drove here. The one I've been leasing from you guys for the past two years. The one I told you about, on the phone."
Keith shakes his head, disappointed, and points Gareth back towards the showroom.
He's been dismissed, and his potential commission, gone. Probably his job. A lease would have made sure they wouldn't fire him. Fuck. He didn't know that was Steve's car. How could he have known? Steve could have said something, for fuck's sake. Prick.
And now Gareth just has to stand by watching as Steve goes over the paperwork on his new car. The one Gareth definitely isn't going to sell him. Keith made sure of it. 
Today's not his day. 
At least it's winding to a close, and when Eddie pulls up in the van, Gareth walks toward it, relieved to be done with Keith, Steve, and this job for another day.
But then he notices that Steve is following him. Which, weird. Surely he's not gonna kick his ass over a dumb mistake. He was just a little baked. That's all. 
Gareth pauses. And so does Steve. 
"What?" Gareth asks. 
"What, what?" Steve repeats. 
"Why are you following me?" Gareth asks.
"I'm not following you," Steve says, clearly following him.
"You are." 
"I'm not."
They're still arguing, this childish back and forth, when Eddie gets out and leans against the van. 
"Soooo, I see you've met," Eddie says.
And they both turn to look in his direction. 
"You know him?!" they both yell, in unison. 
And Eddie just cackles. 
"You set me up!" Gareth accuses, pointing at Eddie.
"Well, maybe. A little. But it was mainly Steve I was harassing." 
And then Gareth gets it. 
"This is your Steve?" Gareth asks, pointing at the preppy-looking motherfucker standing next to him.
Eddie nods, pleased with himself, clearly. 
"Eddie! You lost me my commission!"
Steve is rubbing his eyebrow, "Gareth. Shoulda realized. How common could that name be?"
He's muttering quietly and Gareth is scared they've broken him. 
Eddie must be pretty sure about this one, if he's already picking on him this goddamn hard. 
Steve snaps out of it, suddenly striding over towards Keith.
Gareth follows.
"Hey, Gareth was helping me first. He's the one I had the appointment with, so I'd like to finish this up with him. See it through."
"But, are you, I…" Keith splutters, not wanting to let this one go, obviously, and Gareth just grins and holds out his hand for the halfway filled-out lease. 
Keith hands it over, and Gareth leads Steve and Eddie back to his office.
Steve signs on the dotted line, and Gareth will be able to pay his rent for another month. And he hit his monthly bonus, right at the end of the month. Hot damn.
"Thanks, Steve," Gareth says, "Sorry we got off on the wrong foot."
Steve just lulls his head towards Eddie, "Now, we had a little help with that, didn't we?"
And Eddie just cackles, like the shitty troll he is.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: Inspiration for this one, was I saw this video a couple months ago, and had to track down the original on TikTok to share it here. But: Graham, Gareth. It made sense. (And I found there were updates to the Graham debacle!!)
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lefae · 1 year
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If you want to write with me on one or more of my roleplay blogs, please be sure to read over my updated rules and ensure that your form responses are accurate and up-to-date (muse roster & verses changes have been made).
[rules & forms updated: March 06, 2023]
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bonny-kookoo · 8 months
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Jungkook
(Oh My) Bunny-Baby 🔞
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In which Jungkook had long lost hope to find someone sweet as you.
Tags/Warnings: Bunny Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, major fluff, romance, Flirting, they're in love, also very horny towards the end oops, car sex, sloppy handjob, lots of... fluids, squirting aka champagne confetti wink wink, multiple orgasms, some aftercare?, idk it's something
Length: oneshot, I'll count later
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> You can request drabbles if you want.
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"Come on in- just, be a little quiet, I've got my new coworker over." Jimin chuckles, making Jungkook look at him scandalized- since Jimin, technically, has a girlfriend.
"Ah no, not like that." He waves off, walking in after they both taken off their shoes. "A waterpipe broke in her bedroom, so now she's crashing on my couch for the time being." He explains, putting a finger to his lips as they enter the living room area, where Jungkook spots your body underneath a blanket, clearly asleep.
What peaks his attention though, are the very obvious bunny ears on your head, only partially covered by your hair.
Bunny hybrids aren't common at all, nowadays, due to them ending up mixing with humans more often than not- so much so, that until now, Jungkook has never met another 'pure' bunny hybrid of the opposite sex before, ever. "Just sit down there- she sleeps like a rock, so don't worry too much about waking her." Jimin laughs, easily sitting down in a seat across from where you sleep, while Jungkook carefully takes the spot next to where your head is resting. From here, he's got an even better view of you- and you're just.. so cute.
Though he feels himself short-circuiting the moment you move, nose scrunching up a bit as you move your leg, blanket now slipping a little to reveal the softest looking bunny tail he's ever seen. That, combined with your ear twitching while you dream, makes him wonder about things he never really thought of before. He absentmindedly reaches to touch his own ear, trying to see if they're just as soft as yours look. Are they? He's not sure. He's so close to you he could just see for himself, especially when you move a little more, head leaning against his thigh, ears laying over it- but he knows how much he hates having his ears touched constantly, so he doesn't.
That would just be rude.
"Do you know a cheap place where she can stay? Sine my partner is a wolf hybrid, you know.." Jimin wonders, sighing. "Here, that's the sketches by the way." He offers, giving a few papers to Jungkook who takes them. "Oh! Or, since you're both the same species, maybe she could stay with you? You still have the pull-out couch right?"
"Yeah!" Jungkook answers, while you seem to finally wake up, slowly sitting upright, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
"Great!" Jimin misunderstands the rabbit boy's answer. "Hey, bunny? Jungkookie over here has an empty couch you can stay on." He tells you, who's ears slowly stand up, before you look over at the shoulder of the other bunny hybrid- head slowly lifting to look at the wide open eyes of the buck next to you. "He's easy to be around, don't worry." Jimin jokes.
"Oh?" You wonder, noticing Jungkook's black ears turned towards you as well, giving you all information you need for the moment. "Tha's nice of you." You slur sleepily, yawning before you stretch. "Thank you." You smile, and Jungkook is officially without any brain activity at all for the moment.
Especially when you lean your head to the side a bit, ears flopping over, still clearly drowsy from sleep.
"Uh.. yeah!" Jungkook snaps out of it, ripping his eyes away from you, though he hears you giggle a little to yourself, causing his tail to wiggle without his control of it. He honestly didn't mean to agree to something like this- hell, his apartment isn't even remotely tidied up, there's probably dishes in the sink and his laundry all over the place- but in some odd way, he also can't pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, basically; because you're so pretty, and-
wait, he doesn't even know if you have a boyfriend. Do you? And if you do, why is he not helping you out in a time like this? He knows he would've offered you to stay at his home right away if something was up. That's just common sense.
"I'll go get my stuff.." You mumble, slowly getting up to stretch one last time- bunny tail wiggling around as you groan, giving Jungkook pretty much whiplash from the sight alone, before you walk away into the bathroom, probably to shower and wake up properly.
"She's cute, huh?" Jimin teases, catching Jungkook staring after you. "Doesn't have a boyfriend from what I know. And she's a bunny too." He wiggles his eyebrows, while Jungkook shakes his head.
"So?" He huffs. "Doesn't mean we're like.. destined or something. I'm just gonna help her out- and after that, we'll go back to being strangers anyways." He simply says, shrugging it off. After all, he's tried relationships before- and they all somehow always failed because of him in some way, making him believe that at this point, he just isn't fit for simple relationships.
He can't help his instincts, and neither can he help his.. needs either.
So when he takes the sketches home to work on, and helps carry your bag for you- he doesn't get his hopes up for something changing, because down the line, maybe that'll protect him from the inevitable heartbreak when you leave just like he fears you will.
Just like everyone else did before.
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Inside his apartment, you're clearly finally properly awake now, curiously following him as he shows you around, before he leaves you in his small living room to fetch some sheets and blankets for you to put on the couch.
It's clear that he lives alone, apartment a bit.. lifeless almost, not much screaming home at you from what you can see. Apart from a sweater thrown over a chair at the open kitchenette, and a few dishes in the sink, it looks like any ordinary single-guy household.
Interesting. Especially the fact that his home only smells of himself and no one else. Doesn't he have a partner?
That wouldn't make sense. He's basically the perfect buck.
"It's a bit.. uh, I know this will look like it's broken but it's not-" He defends, rubbing the back of his neck after he put the blankets and sheets on one side of the couch, leaning down to pull on the lower edge of the front of the couch. "-it's just.. urgh- old!" He grits, using a good amount of strength to pull out the part that snaps back up into place, ultimately turning the small couch into a bed with good amount of space on it.
You can't help but stare wide eyed however, not at the furniture- but rather the clear display of strength of his, arms showing off their muscles even while covered mostly by his plain white t-shirt. You can't help it- after all, it's instincts.
Snapping out of it when you notice him looking at you in question, you shake those thoughts off for the moment, hands behind your back while you sway on your legs a little. "Uh.. I didn't listen, sorry. What did you say?" You ask, caught a bit in your staring contest between you and his thighs having multiplied twice their size from the way he's sitting on his heels on the floor.
"I asked if you.. if that blanket is enough, or if you want a thicker one?" He offers. "I have a spare one with feather filling if you'd like.." He wonders, and you nod instantly.
You like thick blankets and bedding a lot- it makes for great nesting material, and gives you a sense of comfort while asleep.
He smiles in a friendly manner, before he fetches said blanket, taking a bit longer to put a cover over it, before he brings it to the couch you're already on all fours on, tucking the sheets into the corners properly, and he can't help but watch you a little. He himself doesn't really nest, and since he's never met a female bunny hybrid before, he's never actually seen one making a nest, except for in movies and TV shows. So, seeing you so naturally do it, makes him wonder.
How much of what he heard and seen about female bunny hybrids is actually true- and how much is just romanticized fiction?
After all, he as a male bunny hybrid is often watered down to nothing but a good lover in bed- but once those people get into an actual relationship, and realize that it's not just fun and games but a need of his that he'd have fulfilled every day of the week if possible, he quickly becomes too much to handle.
And so, most of the time, everything always falls apart because he's too needy. Too demanding. Too high maintenance. Too tough to.. satiate.
"Here." He carefully offers the bedding to you, and you smile, happily taking it with a 'thank you' from your side. He's a bit awkward now- unsure if you'd like him to stay or not. "Do you… should I leave?" He asks, unsure.
"No?" You answer, shaking your head. "This is your home after all. Why should you leave?" You giggle, unaware of Jungkook's inner troubles with the whole situation. He sits down on the edge of the bed so he stays out of the way, while you position some pillows and the other blanket how you want, eventually settling on the thick feather-filled quilt, hugging it it as you look at him arms and legs wrapped around the thick fluffy bedding.
"I.. uhm, I've never actually met a doe before, so I'm not sure how to really act." He admits, and you nod, lips parted in an 'o'-shape as you realize his dilemma.
"That's fine." You simply say. "We're kinda rare after all, I only ever really met another buck like.. a few years back? And he was an asshole, so you're already doing a lot better than him!" You joke, though he can spot some truth behind your words, worrying him what might've happened in the past. "So, Jiminie gave you sketches, right?" You ask, and he nods, happy over the finally flowing conversation. "What's that about?" You ask.
"I'm a tattoo artist." He says, pulling up the sleeve of his white shirt way over his shoulder, showing off his inked arm, making you lean closer to gain a better look, ears fully turned towards him now in interest. "I designed all of them myself, for example." He offers, chuckling when you tilt your head to look at something in a different angle.
"Oh, they're so cool!" You praise, before leaning back again. "I wanna have a tattoo too, but, I don't know.. people told me I shouldn't, cause it wouldn't suit me.." You mumble, leaning back into the comfort of the bedding.
"I mean, it depends what you'd want?" He shrugs. "I could for sure come up with something more delicate maybe?" He wonders, mind already trying to imagine some art underneath your skin right now.
"Heh, you wanna mark me up?" You flirt boldly, catching him off guard at your innuendo. "I'm just kidding. You're cute!" You compliment, before you curl up in your little nest once more. "...though.." you mumble, looking at him dangerously from underneath your lashes.
...though?" He asks, breathes out almost carefully.
"Though I wouldn't mind you cuddling me, to be honest." You giggle into the quilt, cheeks tinted softly. "You look like you give great cuddles." You say, and he laughs a bit bashfully to himself.
"I mean- maybe?" He shrugs, unsure. He's not really.. cuddled much before, every touch of his always having been taken as either an invitation or demand even when it wasn't either- so at some point in his life, he just stopped even thinking about it. What would make you different from them?
And what does he really have to lose, down the line?
You're Jimin's coworker. If you and Jungkook don't work out, there's no awkwardness really, to be fair. You'd just part ways, and that would be it, and since you're both clearly adults, nothing speaks against it.
"Shouldn't we.. maybe get to know each other more?" He wonders carefully, testing the waters. And your next words make him wonder if you could really truly be a new start for him.
"Why? It's only cuddling." You huff. "It's not like I wanna go to phase two just because you touch me." You joke.
And while he does smile at it, it's not a joke to him.
It's much more than that.
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"Heeh, whatcha cooking?" You ask, dipping underneath his arm to catch a glimpse at the pot he's stirring, making him instinctively reach out to pull you back so you don't look inside and hurt yourself.
"Ramen- but it's spicy, so you might not like it." He chuckles, remembering how you told him last night at a movie you watched together that you don't tolerate spicy things very well. Most buny hybrids dont- but he grew up with it, so maybe that's why he can stomach it very well.
The movie you watched yesterday had only been background noise to be honest, because you were rather occupied getting to know each other better, just like Jungkook had suggested. He now knows that you moved here after a bad relationship break up lead to you wanting a new fresh start somewhere else, while you learned that Jungkook used to work at an internet Cafe for a while until he could finally land a spot at Min Yoongis tattoo studio.
You've warmed up to each other quite quickly- and not just over shared life experiences and problems you'd laugh over together.
"But I'm hungry." You tell him, looking upwards at his face that's watching you as well. "Can I use your kitchen to make myself something?" You wonder, and he smiles, laughing.
"I can cook one extra. I have a mild chicken one in here- would you like that?" He asks, and you nod, reaching for it- though he's holding it too far away. "I said I'm making it." He jokingly scolds. "You go wait, it'll take maybe twenty minutes or so." He explains, though you just turn around and...
Hug him?
"Heeh, you're so warm!" You giggle, unable to really resist at least trying to hug him once- when a hand sets itself onto your back, holding you close while he continues cooking. He just smells so nice, and he is so nice in general that you just involuntarily get attached already.
You're a bunny hybrid after all. You crave affection, need attention.. and much more than that, but this part, you've learned to control. It throws people off how clingy and needy you are, it's something you learned the hard way- and you're hoping that you won't screw it up with Jungkook.
Cause you really like him already. Might go as far as to say you've got a terrible crush.
"Am I bothering you?" You ask meekly but he shakes his head, a surprised expression on his face.
"No, I'd tell you if you did." He answers, and at that, your eyes sparkle in wonder, head resting against his chest. Words like that mean the world to you- because thar means you won't just unknowingly make him uncomfortable until he gets rid of you. He'll tell you first, so you can change.
"Thank you." You simply say-
And he wonders what you must've experienced in the past to be so grateful of simple communication like that.
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"So, you're staying with Jungkook now?" Namjoon, a bear hybrid across from you asks- and you nod.
"Hmhm, he's really nice." You compliment, and Jungkook feels his cheeks start to get hotter at your praise. He's got a terrible problem and it's only four days in of you both knowing each other-
Because his body is clearly reacting to your scent being all over his apartment and all over him.
He can't help it, it's quite frankly embarrassing how often he has to shower and try and relieve himself somewhat quietly so you won't notice- ache in his body now worse than ever before, with you as a doe so close around him all the time. You're clearly in your prime, and so is he- bodies communicating that desire constantly without either of your control.
And unbeknownst to him, you're very aware of his dilemma. He's not exactly as quiet as he thinks he is.
In that department, you pride yourself in being a lot more secretive- he probably hasn't even noticed that you got yourself off right in your nest in the living room, because you, compared to him, can be quiet.
Well, but he knows. Because while you might not make much sound, your scent left on your bedding speaks louder than you could ever scream. And it's torture.
"So, you both?" Jimin raises his brows suggestively, making Jungkook shakes his head bashfully. "Heh, why not? You're already so cute together!" He whines, always so passionate about his best friend finally finding that special someone.
Namjoon sighs and scolds the younger friend, before he looks at you. "I'm sorry, he can be a bit too bold sometimes." He says, and you just wave it off.
"No its fine, I understand." You say, before going back to eating.
You're awfully quiet the rest of the night, seemingly rather low on energy. It's something Jungkook notices with slight worry, fearing you might be coming down with something- unaware that it's both your social batteries running low, and also the fact that, naturally, bunny hybrids tend to kind of shrink in on themselves if they're without affection for too long.
And for you, it's been a long time since someone cared for you in a more intimate way.
But he doesn't connect the dots yet, rather offers to go home with you a bit earlier, to get you into bed so you can rest properly.
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You're surprisingly visiting often and regularly, even after returning to your now renovated home.
You seek him out actively, ask often for his opinion on things or if he wants to hang out- and he's thriving, energy at an all time high. It's something that everyone at the tattoo shop notices too, constantly picking on the rabbit hybrid- but he couldn't care less.
Because last night, you told him you liked him. Like, liked him a lot. You got a crush on him.
And it makes him all giddy with excitement, causes him to whistle as he cleans up his workspace to finally go home and welcome you back to his apartment for some takeout and cuddles- because that's something that you do often as well.
It's like the only quality sleep he has these days is only when he sleeps together with you. And not even in a sexual sense whatsoever.
You gently turn him whenever he falls into a bad position during his sleep that makes him snore- instead of telling him that he's annoying and disrupting your rest. You cling onto him, you're nuzzling into his neck, you scent him- and he loves every second of it, soaks up your affectionate attention like a sponge.
You're just so cute, and perfect for him- he can't help but fall for you. And knowing that you did too- just makes it all feel like a fairytale come true.
Though, in his car, things don't go quite as.. tame as he expected it to.
Not that he complains.
You're on his lap in the driver's seat as he'd parked his car at an empty parking lot out of sight of the main road, clinging to him, kissing him just as eagerly as he does you. It's desperate, open mouths stealing each other's breath away, his teasing bites to your lip making you whimper. "Please-" you softly cry, looking at him with pleading eyes. "-I'm starving.!" You complain, and he laughs.
The moment you're both in the backseat of his car, he wastes no time- using the sweater and shirt he pulls off his upper body in one go to throw them against the door so your head is supported, before he leans down to kiss you again. He can't get enough, not of you, and not of this moment-
Because down the line, he's equally as touch-starved as you are.
There's no time nor need for words as his hands push beneath your clothes, exploring what he finds beneath with eager palms, skin warm to the touch. You're squirming in place, needy for more than he gives right now- and he decides that patience can go fuck itself, because he needs you.
The moment he unveils your lower body to his eyes is the moment he just knows he can't control himself, hand instantly reaching between your legs to play with you, get you ready. "How have you been like this, huh?" He chuckles, jokes, as you squirm and roll your hips into his hand. "Poor baby, suffering in silence when I'm right here." He breathes out, sensitive core so desperate you don't need much to come undone for the first time.
While you catch your breath, he uses that time to search for a condom in his car- finding one in his wallet, thankfully, before he covers his length that you're already reaching for.
"Next time." He reassures your disappointed face as you realize he's not gonna let you return the favor. "Right now I need you." He instead explains, before he guides the head of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes inside.
Your head is finally empty, no thoughts rushing any longer, the only thing on your mind the feeling of him filling you up.
You don't care if you're needy, or clingy, or too demanding- right now you want all he has to offer, as your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer.
And closer he gets, leaning down to capture your lips once more before his hips start to move.
The sounds you make must be nothing shy of pornographic, but you don't spare any mind to it- instead letting your eyes roll back as he picks up his pace, testing your limits to see what you need, and what you can take. And much to his personal pleasure, it seems like you're a perfect fit-
Not just in any other way already.
Your tail must be soaked in your slick at this point, ring of foamy white decorating the base of his length as he keeps up his rhythm, skin smacking against skin loudly in the small space of the car. Any bystander outside probably knows exactly what's going on-
And he couldn't care less.
An almost growling sound escapes him when he feels you clench in your upcoming orgasm, thighs trembling against his body as you cry out, white hot pleasure making you blind and deaf for a second, while his hips stutter, one final push all it takes for him to snap-
As he pulls out your soaked cunt, pulling the condom off to instead close your legs and bring himself to his finish that way, white strings of cum covering your naked front, even up to your shirt that he's pushed way up high to reveal your bouncing chest to his eyes.
He's breathing heavily together with you, as he notices the scene he finds himself in.
The windows of the car are all fogged up, and it's stuffy inside, smell of sex filling the entirety of the space, leather of the seats squeaking slightly as he adjusts his position. Your most recent experience of pleasure covers his thighs and seats, but he doesn't mind, he can only laugh to himself absolutely starstruck.
He's never experience something like this before.
He's never had any sexual encounter where he felt this satisfied after, no lingering appetite left for the moment, as he helps you out of your shirt to use it to wipe your body somewhat clean- his cum having stained the fabric already anyways.
The second he notices you shivering he helps you into a sitting position after cleaning you between your legs too- or at least drying your skin, before he wipes the seats. "I uh.." you mumble, staring at the mess you've made. "...that's new." You say, and he laughs, looking at you with eyes full of stars.
"I know." He answers, making you beam back with an equally love-filled gaze, shy laughter breaking the awkward aftermath of your first time.
And that's when he knew-
You're it for him.
For now and forever.
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"Jungkoooook~?" You sing, hanging somewhat upside down off his bed- when he walks into the bedroom, freshly showered.
"Whaaaaat~?" He parrots back in a similar tone, walking to the closet to get a shirt and pants.
"Do you love me?" You wonder, and he laughs, slipping the shirt over his head.
"Of course." He instantly answers without thinking.
"Do you really love me?" You ask, and he turns around now, looking at you with suspicion.
"...You're gonna ask me to drive you to that one specific place where they sell those giant milkshakes again, aren't you?" He accuses, and you giggle.
"I mean, do you reeeaaally love me?" You jokingly ask, and at that he squats down in front of you to kiss your upside-down lips with a smile.
"Of course I do." He answers. "So much so that I'll drive you there, even though you're gonna have a stomachache from all the food again."
"That was once!" You call out as he puts on his sweatpants having now sat up. "Or maybe twice.. okay if we count last Tuesday maybe three times but that-"
"Doesn't count, I know." He finishes his sentence for you, closing the closet before he leans his hands on the bed, lips catching yours to shut you up for a second.
But as he leans back to look at you, there's a new desire in your eyes.
"You know.. now that I think of it.." you mumble quietly, hands toying with the strings of his sweats. "I'm hungry for something else.." you bat your lashes at him, and he smirks at that, leaning his head to the side while he watches your lips.
"I wonder what that might be." He grins, licking his lips as you lean onto your back, his body now crawling over you.
"Guess you better find out." You tell him, hands already pulling down the hem of his pants slowly.
"Guess I have to." He shrugs, letting you undress him, trip to the far away diner long forgotten.
Because who needs to eat out when you've got the best dinner at home?
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nsharks · 1 year
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part one —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: of course i am watching tlou right now so this is what came about in my brain! i can't stop thinking about this story.
The forest is covered in a blanket of white.
You’ve been monitoring the unfamiliar area by the pond for hours. Most of it is half-frozen slush, but there’s enough liquid water left for life to visit. At least, you hope. The brittle cold laced in your bones and the pained hunger in your gut clings to this hope as you wait in position against frayed tree bark.
Desperation has brought you this far into the forest— uncharted territory. The risk is buried beneath the long week you’ve had, days that have blurred together with only death and solitude as the glue between the cracks. You are still alive, somehow. Your blood is still red. It moves. The pulse in your neck— the loudest thing in this forest.
But still, it’s quieting. Slowing.
You drag numb fingers over the bits of snow sticking to your hair, the light flakes feathering down. Then, your hand settles back on the curve of your wooden bow, whittled from oak years ago. Chiseled by hands that belonged to a friend whose corpse you’d left behind. This bow is your only momentum of him, along with the memories. But those memories are turning shallow with each day, killed by starvation. Thirst. Fear.
The clouds above the trees are grey and swollen.
Grey— an in-between color.
Somewhere between white and black, life and death.
You can feel yourself slipping closer to the grey.
Maybe you will be one of them soon— the Greys.
They are the reason for the lack of fresh meat in this forest, man and animal alike, and the reason for the loss of your companions. The smell of their molten flesh, greyed and tattered against rotting bones, has faded from the air the further you have journeyed. Over the years, you’ve grown accustomed to flaring your nostrils in constant search for their scent. Right now, as you keep your eyes on the pond, you don’t bother sniffing for them. If they come, they’ll put an end to your hunger.
There is not even much of you left for a Grey to sink its teeth in. You’ve turned slack and gangly. Your fingers could easily slip between the spaces of your ribs. Clothes hang loosely over your frame— Paul’s frayed winter coat, your sister’s trousers. You’d quickly peeled them off their dead bodies in your fleeing because your own clothes had been torn and doused in blood, unsuitable for the winter.
But that was days ago— now, you barely remember what their dead faces looked like. Grey, maybe. Empty.
Not too different than your own face as you sigh through your nose and dig the tip of your bow into the frost. Only a few hours of daylight remain. You will have to find a tree to sling yourself upon once night falls. That has been your strategy since the loss of your old camp, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up. Climbing the oaks requires fuel.
You swallow the dryness in your throat, thick and tasteless, and listen carefully to the sounds around you: branches in the wind, low whistles, your own heartbeat. And then—
A new sound.
The crackling of snow beneath light footsteps.
Lifting your bow back up, your pained breath quickens in a matter of instinct as you squint through blurred vision. A deer—? You have memorized the sound of their hooves after five years of hunting them. This isn’t it. Maybe it is a lone Grey crawling through the forest towards your scrawny, awaiting flesh.
Your eyes shift around. When you finally spot the owner of the footsteps, shock skips like a stone over the blood in your veins. More than ten meters away stands a child; not too young, not too skinny. Human eyes stare intently into yours, but you keep a strong grip on your bow and take aim.
A child—?
Would your hunger take you there?
Your stomach quivers and howls and chews at its own lining, but even in your desperation, you don’t consider the idea.
You can't.
The child continues to peer at you as you shakily lower the bow. You can’t make out much from this distance, not even gender— all you see is a thick coat on their small shoulders, a hood drawn over their head. When was the last time you had seen someone so young? Children, elderly: they’d been picked off the quickest.
A child could not survive on their own—
In your weakened state, you take a second too long to catch up to this realization.
A burly arm grabs you from behind.
A blade to your throat.
The bow slips from your grip and from your unused larynx, a hoarse scream ripples.
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The end came on a day of homemade marmalade and Hemingway. The morning started quietly at your sister’s northern property. A quaint house in the suburbs where her son and husband played in the backyard while the two of you spread the jam on slabs of bread. Breakfast was shared between the four of you before their days began. You were visiting. You often did, taking the four-hour bus ride from London in search of a break from tantalizing coursework. Nursing school had been your dream, but it quickly took the form of a nightmare. Their home, their small family— you found sanity in it all.
You ate with them.
Your sister took the boy to school.
Michael promised to bring curry for dinner before he left for work.
In the quiet house, you cleaned for them. You didn’t know what would happen that day as you folded their laundry and stacked toys in the bins. At noon, the neighbor you knew to be Paul knocked at the door.
“You’re her sister, right?”
He was kind-eyed and of retirement age, yet thick-boned and strong. You’d heard a few stories about the gestures he sprinkled their household with in the loneliness since his wife’s passing. On that day, he offered you a stack of books as you propped the door open. All Hemingway.
“Dropping these off for Michael. He said he was a fan.”
“I’ll make sure they get to him, thanks.”
It was funny how the end of society could bring unlikely souls into collision. When everything cracked later that afternoon, Paul would become the reason for five years worth of your survival. It started with another knock on the door— but this time, Paul knocked with grave urgency. You had paused from cleaning after his first visit. You sat on the couch with A Farewell to Arms in your grip, but when you opened the door for him again, your finger parting your place among the pages, his words caused the book to slip from your hand to the floor.
“Call your sister— Michael, both of them.”
“I— I don’t understand. Who said all this?”
“The news. Fuck— have you not been listening for the past hour?”
You called your sister with fingers that trembled. She panicked on the other end: I'm driving home with Joseph right now and the streets are insane. I can’t even get a hold of Michael - oh god - try calling him for me?
You tried. He never answered. Your sister returned. The three of you followed Paul. You learned he was an ex forest-ranger. He calmed you through the screams you heard in the distance, through the strewn of bodies that began to litter the roads. Some sliced in half, crawling. Cars battered into each other.
“They’re coming from the city.”
He packed a bag. It was a flurry. Your sister carried the weeping boy. Your stomach felt full of acid. Panic. Paul kept a radio on him as you traversed towards the treeline, away from the entanglement of screams and blood and chaos. You overheard some pieces through the static: London was in shambles. The military was closing in on itself.
It is all in the brains. An infection.
Between living and dead.
Grey, grey, grey.
That first week felt like seconds.
Paul took you to a fenced-off parcel of land he owned in the forest; a private shooting range. He only had a few shotguns, outdated. Limited ammo. But he was quick to string tarps along the chain-link fence and add bolted locks to the gate. You helped him pin up two tents. Nailed wood boards to any gaps along the perimeter. You didn’t bring much with you; there hadn’t been time. All you managed was two changes of clothes, a thick coat, canned beans from the pantry, A Farewell to Arms.
You read it ten times over.
Paul did the hunting.
You begged to help, so he made you the bow. The arrows.
He took monthly trips to nearby, abandoned supermarkets.
“Never let anyone into our camp.”
You did well to listen, filling in as the second leader in his absence. Your older sister never did well under stress, never liked the outdoors. She’d lost her husband. A little boy clung to her. You tried to offer quiet comfort to the brokenness of their family, but it was all in vain.
A year.
Only a few hoards of Greys approached the fence. You helped Paul eradicate them. It’s all in their brains. Obliterate the brains.
Two years.
Joseph caught some sickness. Flu, you figured. You did your best with what Paul had picked up from the pharmacies, but you had little to work with. You listened to his wheezing, the dry and insistent cough. The winter didn’t help. Pneumonia.
He died just before his eighth birthday.
Your sister might as well have died that day, too.
She was a ghost for the three years following. You had to force food down her throat. You had to mother her, nurse her grief. Until the fifth winter, when the deer began to diminish. Their carcasses sprung up like daisies in the nearby wood. Eaten and gnawed by encroaching Greys, the smell of spilled blood and their own rotting stench attracted more and more of them from the distant city.
There were just too many for your handmade arrows and Paul’s shotgun. He ran out of ammo. The fence and tarp and wood did little against the coalesced wave of them that finally scraggled over it with moaned hisses and mindless teeth.
You watched them consume your sister.
Then, Paul.
You lived. You ran.
A week.
You slept up in the trees.
You had a knife. Your bow. You whittled more arrows.
Alive.
But barely.
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The strong arm cages your body against something hard— a chest. The blade on your neck is icier than the air and it stings and burns with a threat that instantly has you squirming in the owner’s hold.
“Stop movin’ or I’ll fucking kill you.”
It is a gruff, quiet threat in your ear accompanied by a heated breath. Your eyes fill with moisture and you gasp for panicked gulps of air. You lift your hands up to the arm that holds you and attempt to claw at it feebly because your muscles, at this point, are nothing but hungered dust.
“I said stop movin’.”
A growl.
He presses the knife harder against your throat until you feel the skin prickle. The man behind you doesn’t need to step before your eyes in order to make his strength and size known. It is apparent in how easily he restrains you. You understand you have no chance— though, you’re certain even a child could pin you. Bony hands drop to your sides and you turn limp and helpless against him.
“This is my territory.”
“I didn't know anyone was here,” you hiss, voice scratchy. “I’m just passing through.”
His hold has you lifted up to the balls of your feet. The soles of your worn boots hover over crackling snow. There is something hard pressing against the top of your cranium as he lowers his head to utter more words in your ear.
“Give me a reason not to slit your throat.”
Your heart pounds. Adrenaline. A human instinct to survive, even though death is already at your fingertips.
“I’m a nurse,” you half-lie. You never finished. Your credentials are shortened to textbooks and little experience.
“Don’t need a nurse,” he murmurs. “Anythin’ else?”
Words float through the soupy mess that is your brain. It is hard to think. There isn’t a good reason for him not to kill you— you and Paul had to do it a few times before. Other humans could pose even greater threats than the mindless Greys. Humans are smarter. They have something to strive for; something to kill for by all means necessary— survival.
Your failure to respond is cut off by sudden footsteps crunching the ice, as light as a curious rabbit. It's the kid. A young girl you now realize, even through your state of panic. Her cheeks are pale like porcelain under the hood of her coat and her azure eyes observe you from head to toe.
Her lips part, but nothing comes out.
Instead, another growl in your ear.
“I know you have a knife,” he says, tightening his hold until you whimper. “Empty your pockets.”
There is not much room in this situation for you to disobey.
Flushing out your pockets, your nimble hands reveal only a small blade.
“Drop it.”
The knife falls to the ground with a quiet thud, just beside the oak bow. The only two items that have kept you alive for the last week lay in the thin snow. Even if you had the strength or will to fight back, you no longer had the resources to.
“Pick it up, Blue.”
The man behind you nods his chin. The young girl leans down to grab the handle of your knife. She inspects the blade, runs her index gently along the dull edge with her brows furrowed together. She stuffs it somewhere in her coat. Then, she looks back up. She flickers her blue gaze between you and whoever it is that stands behind you.
“So,” he grumbles with a click of his tongue. “Thought of that reason yet?”
You swallow. Then, your throat spasms around a sneer as you say, “This is your kid, isn’t it? Are you really going to kill me in front of your kid? You want her to see that?”
“Nothin’ she hasn’t seen before,” he muses in a dark brass. “Good lesson for her.”
Oh—
Blood chills in your veins.
Freezes over like the nearby pond.
You can’t think of any more words, so it is now that your eyes flutter shut. You seek darkness in preparation for whatever may happen once his knife digs deeper. Death— maybe it’s not so bad. It must be better than whatever it is you have been doing for the past week. Struggling. Life has little meaning at this point, and getting bitten by a Grey seems too transient. Death, on the other hand, will be permanent. Your sister, her family, and many others are waiting for you in the crevices of its darkness.
“Ghost…”
It is a soft voice.
The girl speaks now, and you open your eyes to watch as she nibbles at her lip.
“Ghost, do you have to?” She looks over the length of your body, inspecting it with a softness that is so different from the harsh grip you are locked in. “She's not much of a threat, right? It looks like she hasn’t eaten in days.”
“Told you, Blue.” The gruff voice arrives from over your shoulder. “The hungrier they are, the less you can trust ‘em.”
If you cared enough, you might have pleaded your case some more. You can trust me, you might have said. But you know how this goes. For as long as you are alive within their space, you are a problem. A problem for their food sources, and a problem for wherever they have made camp. The child may not fully understand this, but he certainly does.
“Just do it,” comes your voice; exhausted. The adrenaline hides under defeat. “Just fucking do it, alright? Kill me.”
He snarls.
You expect darkness.
You expect to see your sister again. Her son. Paul.
“Dad… don’t.”
A gentle plea.
A low huff in response.
And then, instead of receiving a slash to your jugular, you are thrown to the icy ground as if you are nothing more than a sack of bones. Your palms barely have time to spread open and break the fall. A pain shoots up your knees the moment they dig into the frozen dirt, but you don’t have it in you to wince or cry.
He listened to her—?
Shifting onto your butt, you look up at your attacker.
A skull mask stares back at you.
Dark eyes, broad shoulders, a towering height.
If you weren’t so relieved - surprised - to still be breathing, you might have been frightened to the point of tears.
He moves and you flinch, but rather than touching you, his heavy boot stamps something beside you. Your bow. The oak splinters in half under his foot.
“Are you—“ You suck in a strangled breath, looking between him and your now-ruined weapon. “Are you fucking kidding me? Just… just kill me. I can’t - I have nothing now! You might as well fucking kill me!”
But he doesn’t.
He gives another nod to the girl. A silent language that you don’t understand, and in response, she carefully steps around you. She offers an apologetic look before she follows after her skull-faced companion, and then you are left with nothing. Not a knife, not a bow. Only your rapid heartbeat and a pink welt on your throat where his knife had been.
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mintkookiess · 11 months
Text
It's Always Been Her.
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A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)
Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it
Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ
Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated
(Pls be nice ty)
Love,
Mint
P.S. AO3 saw it first here!
Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.
Word count: 2.6k
Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.
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"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.
"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.
But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.
"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.
"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.
It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.
"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.
Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.
Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.
She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.
Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.
Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.
It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."
After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.
"You still love her."
Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.
But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.
Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.
He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.
The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.
Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.
To run.
To hide.
To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.
His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.
As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.
She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.
If that was even possible.
Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.
She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.
Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.
Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.
Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.
Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.
Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.
He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.
Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.
But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.
Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.
She didn't even feel any pain.
Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.
It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.
Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.
Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.
It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.
"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.
"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.
He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.
"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.
But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.
Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.
Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.
She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.
Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.
He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.
So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.
His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.
She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.
Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.
"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.
Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.
The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.
"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.
She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.
It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.
How could he do that to her?
To destroy her trust?
Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.
"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.
She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.
She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.
But now, it wasn't her home anymore.
Fin.
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See more of my Miles content here babes!
(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)
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mrvlbimbo · 2 years
Text
Mrvlbimbo's Eddie Munson Masterlist 
hiiiiii everyone, I figured it was time I made a master list for all my Eddie fics.
For anything in the series and longer fics catagory y'all can send me requests to further those stories and/or HCs you have for them.
Everything other than the drabbles is explicitly xfem reader because I write in third person using she/her pronouns.
The summaries are bad but hopefully this is helpful for everyone.
Smut meter
🍓complete fluff
🍒suggestive
🌶smuttish
🔥full on smut
Other tags
☁️angst
🍬sub! Eddie
🧁sub! Reader
🏠established relationship
🎲virgin! Eddie
💎virgin! Reader
Series and longer fics
Secret admirer series, pt1, 2, 3, 4
reader leaves romantic notes in Eddie's locker because she's too shy to talk to him in person.
Rating: 🌶💎🎲 (will change when chapter 4 is posted)
Eddie x bimbo!reader series masterlist
based on this request: eddie and bimbo reader!! a unique pair, but reader likes metal and rock music, and they find other ways to bond later
Rating: there’s too many parts but it’s a mix of all
Incentive, pt 1
Eddie has a crush on the assistant coach of the Hawkins High women's tennis team. She's only a year older than him, only problem is she refuses to date a highschooler. Looks like Eddie has some incentive to graduate
Something isn't right here, pt 1/2
A few weeks after returning from the upside down, Eddie wakes up changed. His new bloodlust only rivaled by his regular lust for his best friend.
Bimbo!reader x Vampire!Eddie
Perv!Eddie thoughts,
some hcs
Just a little quid pro quo, Virgin!reader buys drugs from Eddie and just so happens for 'forget' her money
Eddie's neighbor gets drenched in the cold and he just neeeeds to help her warm up
Sub!Eddie thoughts,
using a vibrator on Eddie
making Eddie cry his eyeliner off
What’s the plot of Romeo and Juliet again?
based on this request: eddie X (cheerleader?) reader where reader is dating jason. they get into an argument and eddie steps in to protect her. maybe they end up breaking up and eddie is really happy about it.
Rating: 🔥💎🧁
And they were roomates (pt 2 eventually)
Eddie and the reader are roommates, she catches him jerking off. She offers to help.
Rating: 🌶🍬
You mean nothing (everything) to me
friends to enemies to lovers. They fuck in the hellfire chair. It's almost 5k words.
Rating: 🔥🍬☁️
Practice makes perfect, first times the charm (coming soon)
based on this request: Eddie fic? where poor baby is a virgin but his not-girl-friend is more than happy to let him give her head for ‘practice’?
Rating: 🌶🍬🎲
It’s about time someone wrote an Eddie Munson sex pollen fic
its an Eddie Munson sex pollen fic.
Rating: 🔥
Jason doesn’t know
Eddie and reader are fwb and she's cheating on her boyfriend (Jason) Loosely based on the song Scotty Doesn't Know.
Rating: 🔥
One shots
Don’t move
cockwarming with subby Eddie
Rating:🔥🍬🏠
Polar Opposites
based on this request: eddie with a hyper feminine, super spoiled girl? Like, everyone just being exhausted by the stereotypical girly thing she is, and her just sitting all pretty in his lap in the throne in the hellfire club room
Rating:🍒🏠
Oblivious
based on this request: Eddie coming home after a club meeting that went rlly well and he’s super pent up and energized and he gets into his room and he’s greeted with the sight of his sweet y/n on his bed in the cutest pink lingerie set waiting to have him basically rearrange her organs, and ofc he does cause how could he say no to his needy girl
Rating: 🔥🏠
I like-like you too
based on this request: eddie x fem!reader where they both like eachother and it’s sooo obvious to everyone but them? and they get teased all the time by everyone
Rating: 🍒
One more?
based on this request: Eddie fucking readers brain out and then taking care of her while she's in subspace
Rating: 🔥🧁🏠
Gummies
based on this request: u eat some of eddies gummy bears only to find out they were edibles, n now eddie has to deal with a very high y/n who wont stop gushing about him and being all giddy
Rating: 🍓
Road trip
based on this request: reader and Eddie aren’t really close but they both unknowingly think each other are attractive but reader thinks Eddie is way out of her league. So they’re in the car with dustin, max, mike and Steve, but there’s no room for the reader so Eddie offers for reader to sit on his lap. So they’re both really nervous and reader keeps shifting in his lap so he grips her hips to get her to stop because he’s getting hard and he’s really embarrassed about it
Rating: 🌶🍬
I’ll never leave
based on this request: eddie having a nightmare where his gf leaves him only for him to wake up with her drooling all over his arm in her sleep
Rating: 🍓☁️🏠
It goes both ways
based on this request: reader getting into a fight with a jock because he hit and/or upset Eddie? Like, maybe she could kick his ass but she would also have gotten her fair share of hits?
Rating: 🍓
Not so innocent
based on this request: y/ns like this good girl teachers pet-- pleated skirts and mary janes and all-- with straight a's and she's sent to tutor eddie bc man is failing with a capital F so they're studying in her pink room with a bunch of awesome stuffies (in my head a lot of them are dragons and gargoyles and eddie's nerdy lil heart fricken explodes but this is just me being stupid in love) and he has full intention to do absolutely zERO work
(corruption kink and dom!eddie if you couldn't tell by now jdjjd)
and the whole time he's just teasing her (cough degrading her cough) and flirting with her (cO U G H praising her ahem) and- oops now they're fucking *acts shocked*
Rating: 🔥💎🧁
Thoroughly
based on this request: idk idk i’m just imagining eddie being like bold bold
“you wish you could handle me”
“yes, i do. roughly…thoroughly…for hours…”
Rating: 🍒
Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.
based on this request: eddie accidentally calling you mommy while you’re edging him? so u like slightly laugh cause ur like omg???????? and he’s just so embarrassed BYE
Rating: 🔥🍬🏠
Rings can’t go in there
based on this request: eddie having to fish his ring out of your coochie
Rating: 🌶🏠
Teenage rebellion
Based on the request: What if Jason’s sister flirts with Eddie just to annoy his brother but she ends up having sex with him (I like how you write, specifically submissive Eddie)
Rating: 🔥🍬🎲
Drabbles
Aftercare
Wearing his rings
Giving him hickies
Boobs, boobs pt2
Belly bulge
Thighs
Fingering
Your first time with Eddie
Praise kink
Sub Eddie with begging
Naked Polaroids
Eddie x plus sized reader
Eddie with a mommy kink
Eddie x y2k aesthetic reader
Role play
Possessive Eddie
Giving Eddie head scratches
Flirting with Eddie
Jewlery and tits
Eddie is needy and wants attention
Eddie doesn't want to share his cookies with Hellfire
Getting Eddie's name tattooed
(Plz lmk if any of the links don’t work)
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thisapplepielife · 1 month
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Written for @subeddieweek, day one.
I'm Only One Man
Prompt: Manhandling | Word Count: 2214 | Rating: E | CW: Light DubCon Kink Play | Tags: Manhandling, Fake First Time Scene, Established Relationship, Light Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Soft!Dom Steve, Bratty!Sub Eddie, Boys in Love
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"Well, come on then, if you think you're man enough, big boy," Eddie says, sarcastic and snarky, and he has a brief flash of regret the moment it leaves his lips. Because Steve's eyes darken, indicating the sudden arrival of a brand new storm brewing on the horizon. 
It's intense, and enticing.
Eddie wants that, he's always wanted that, and now Steve Harrington is toe-to-toe with him, looking like he just might give it to him. 
Jesus H. Christ.
Eddie's cock throbs in his jeans at the prospect of Steve taking charge of him, and he wants. 
"What'd you say?" Steve asks, low and pointed.
Eddie wants to get on his knees, right here in his own backyard, but he's too belligerent to let himself do it. Always fighting against what he wants most. Eddie wants to kneel before Zod, but he won't, so he pushes back even harder against it. Always his own worst enemy. 
If Steve thinks he can tame him, Eddie'll damn well enjoy watching him try.
"You heard me," Eddie answers, trying to sound more blasé than he feels.
Eddie knows Steve's definitely man enough, and the way Steve's hand shoots out, snatching Eddie's wrist, verifies it. The bolt of lightning that shimmers and sizzles down Eddie's spine, sends an intense wave of want pooling in his groin. A rush of endorphins all through his brain, screaming right, right, right, do it, do it, do it.
He lets out an involuntary noise, from deep in his throat. 
"Want to try that again?" Steve asks, slow and steady, eyes locked on Eddie’s. Unwavering. Challenging. 
Eddie does.
"I said, if you think you're man enough, big boy," Eddie repeats, firm, defiant. Pitching his voice even lower than it already is, because he's not about to back down from a challenge. Especially not when he's getting exactly what he wants.
"Okay," Steve says, squeezing his wrist, and it's the only warning Eddie gets before Steve has twisted his arm behind him, turning him around, frog marching him across the yard. Steve's knee pressed into Eddie's ass, while still pinning his arm behind his back. Making it hard for Eddie to walk normally. 
Eddie doesn't care, he's happy to shuffle along like a fool, right up until Steve gets him to the first step leading up to the back porch. Then he stops.
"Up," Steve demands. 
Eddie isn't going up. He doesn't budge. 
"Fine," Steve says, spinning him, and Eddie doesn't even have time to react before he's slung over Steve's shoulder, dangling. 
"Fucking hell, Harrington," Eddie says, as Steve climbs the steps with ease, as if he's not even struggling to manhandle and carry Eddie into the house like he weighs nothing, like this is no challenge, or hardship. 
Eddie likes it. Eddie really likes it.
And his dick likes it more than he does, even, and he's sure Steve can feel it poking him in the collar bone, but he says nothing to indicate that. So Eddie grinds down, as best he can. Leaning into it. He might not be able to take Steve on physically, but he can damn sure make Steve uncomfortable.
So, Eddie dangles, pressing his crotch into Steve's chest as Steve stomps through the back door, through the kitchen, and Eddie's sure he's about to get dumped on the couch unceremoniously. 
He isn't.
Steve goes right on through the living room, and walks to the far end of the hall, kicking open the already ajar door to Eddie's bedroom. 
The bed is a mess, because Eddie never makes it, and Steve tosses him onto it, hard. Eddie bounces on his knees, before the momentum has him tumbling forward, unable to catch himself before he's facedown and prone in the pooled sheets. It wasn't graceful, and certainly not very sexy, but he doesn't give a fuck.
It was hot.
He wants to ask Steve to do it again.
And Eddie looks back over his shoulder, expecting to see Steve's back as he leaves.
Steve's not leaving. Holy shit.
Instead, Steve's pulling his belt out of his belt loops, and Eddie flushes hot. Is Steve gonna spank him with his belt? God, Eddie hopes so. But, no, Steve's moved on. Belt thrown to the ground, and now he's popping open the button on his jeans, and sliding down the zipper.
Eddie feels like he can hear every metal tooth slide and grind as it goes down, even from halfway across the room.
And Eddie's dick throbs between his legs, begging to be released from the confines of his underwear, his jeans. They're too tight, and he needs to be freed of them.
He reaches a hand towards his cock, but Steve's voice rings out, sharp and firm, "No." 
Eddie whines, but puts his hand back flat on the mattress, and then lays his head down, yielding. He feels the rush of warmth spreading through him as he does. He can be good. He wants to be good. 
He watches, face pressed to the sheets, as Steve shoves his jeans down, underwear going with them, and then he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. He's naked, totally, and Eddie's just facedown on his bed, fully dressed, cock so hard he could hammer nails, staring, like a horny, dumbstruck fool.
Steve's cock is big, even soft, and looks beautiful hanging heavy between his thighs. Dark thatch of hair doing nothing to hide what he has to offer, and Eddie is so fucking turned on by Steve's blatant display of control. 
Over his own body.
Over Eddie.
And Eddie feels floaty, and boneless, just watching. Taking it all in. 
He really wants to take it all in.
But he's a little surprised when Steve reaches for him, and forces him over onto his back, working to pull off Eddie's shoes. Throwing them over his shoulders, sneakers hitting the ground, bouncing away. His socks follow. Then Steve's yanking, tugging, bullying Eddie's jeans off his legs and Eddie just lays there, letting him do whatever he wants.
He's just along for the ride. The nice, nice ride.
At least Eddie's getting some friction on his dick, as Steve struggles to undress him. 
Once his legs are free of his jeans, he allows Steve to yank on his boxers, taking them, too. 
Eddie's naked from the waist down, still in his shirt and leather jacket, and Steve doesn't seem to care. Just grabs a fist full of his shirt, and yanks him upright, until he's seated.
"You think you can do anything about this?" Steve asks, his soft dick laying against his own large palm. Presenting it to Eddie, as if he's showing Eddie what he is, or isn't, doing for him. Where he's failing. And Eddie wants to do better. Can. Will.
Eddie nods, and opens his mouth. 
Steve feeds his soft cock into Eddie's waiting mouth, using one hand to press it against Eddie's tongue, the other gripping the back of Eddie's head, holding him in place. Making him bob his head at the speed Steve wants.
Eddie can feel Steve harden, grow, against his tongue, and he reaches for his own dick and Steve abruptly pulls out of his mouth. Eddie doesn't have time to complain, because Steve flips him back over like it's nothing, no effort at all, and forces Eddie up onto his knees. Slapping him on the thigh, a warning to stay still where he's been arranged. 
The contact rattles around in his brain, leaving a loud reverberating echo, and Eddie stays still. 
Steve dips off the bed, and Eddie hears him rummaging around the room. Digging through the nightstand, tossing all of Eddie's shit onto the ground, including his dirty magazines. Eddie hears them fluttering in the air before thudding onto the carpet. One by one.
"You're a fucking mess," Steve says, and Eddie nods. He's a mess. He is.
Steve must find what he wants, because he pushes him down onto his belly, flat, holding him there, trapping his dick against the bed. Eddie likes this, really likes this, and wants more of it. All of it. He wants Steve to do anything he wants to him, with him. He wants to give, and he wants Steve to take. Eddie grinds down into the bed at the thought.
"Didn't you hear me? I said no."
Eddie heard him. He did. He forgot, he feels too good.
He hears the familiar snick of his K-Y being opened, and then he feels the blunt head of Steve hard cock pressing right against his hole. 
"You have to-" 
"What do I have to do?" Steve interrupts, then pushes all the way in, with one long, sure stroke.
It's an easy slide, Eddie was ready, well prepped, Steve made sure of it earlier. But it still makes him cry out, pushing all of his goddamn buttons.
Steve would never, not really, his limits are hard, and causing Eddie real pain isn't ever going to be on the table.
But Steve thrusts once, twice, and it's overwhelming in the best way. Going from empty to filled completely, all at once. It jars all of Eddie's nerve endings wide-awake, alight with the sensations spreading through his whole body.
And he moans.
Steve grabs both of his shoulders and holds him down into the mattress as he fucks into him, and Eddie is just along for the ride. 
His dick brushing against the bed with every hard thrust. It's too much, and somehow still not enough. If he could just slide a hand-
"Don't even think about it," Steve says, like he can read his mind. 
Eddie laughs, because he didn't expect it, and that makes Steve laugh, too. 
It's contagious. 
He didn't move an inch, so he has no idea how Steve knew what he was about to try. Steve just knows him that well, Eddie is sure of it. And that makes him feel indescribably happy.
Steve leans down, brushing Eddie's hair back off of his face, his neck, pressing his lips there. 
It's soft, and not supposed to be part of this today.
But Eddie smiles. 
It's just Steve, slipping through the cracks of any given scene they try. He always does. It's part of his charm.
"I love you," Steve says, "every inch of you." 
"Even the belligerent parts?" Eddie asks, side of his face still pressed to the sheets. 
"Especially those," Steve says, and Eddie grins.
The wheels have started to fall off this, as they so often do. 
"I thought you were gonna make me behave?" Eddie asks, worming his hand under himself, arching his ass upwards, taking Steve with him, still in him, as he wraps his hand around his own dick, stroking himself roughly, finally getting some relief.
"Impossible, I'm only one man," Steve says, and Eddie smiles, until Steve gives a particularly hard thrust and Eddie huffs out a whine, being pushed further into the mess of sheets. Harder into his own hand. 
They could finish like this, but-
"More or…?" Steve asks, and Eddie doesn't hesitate.
"More," he answers. He wants Steve to fall back into the scene, if at all possible.
It must be, because Steve reaches for Eddie's elbow, roughly forcing him to let go of his cock. Manhandling his arm back to the bed.
Getting right back to it, just as Eddie asked.
So, Eddie slips fully back into that headspace, too, whining about it, as if it wasn't everything he'd asked for.
Steve slams his hips into Eddie's ass, cock reaching all the places Eddie'd only dreamed about before Steve came along and changed his whole world. The head of his cock, catching, dragging along his prostate with each deliberate stroke.
And when Steve finally comes, deep inside him, Eddie knows he did good.
Steve carefully pulls out, and rubs his palm over Eddie's ass, soothing him, before gently rolling Eddie over onto his back. 
"You did so good," Steve tells him, and Eddie feels so warm and happy, "you made me feel so good."
Eddie closes his eyes, and smiles.
"Can I make you feel good now?" Steve asks, rubbing his thighs, and Eddie knows this is his signal to start letting go. To slip back into himself, slowly, but steadily.
"Please," Eddie answers, and Steve gently removes his leather jacket, laying it over the chair at his desk, and then pulls his t-shirt over his head, careful not to tug on his hair. Then Steve slides down his body, taking his cock into his mouth, working him, tongue and lips and throat. All working together, and it doesn't take long. Eddie's been too close to the edge since they were in the backyard, and he comes against Steve's tongue, sagging with the relief of it.
Steve swallows, and crawls up the bed, cuddling up against him. Petting his hair, anchoring his strong leg over Eddie's thighs. Eddie's fingertips skate across his skin, feeling his rough leg hair under his fingers, tracing the map of moles that Eddie is well acquainted with. 
He's slowly coming down, coming back into himself, and soon he'll be back on solid ground.
Steve always takes care of him, his needs. 
"You good?" Steve asks.
And Eddie smiles.
He's so good.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤
My other fics for this challenge week:
Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven
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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months
Text
Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 3
Again the winner of last week's poll! There won't be a poll this week because I'm planning something a bit different. I hit 1000 followers this past week and have been wracking my brain about how to celebrate! Wasn't up for doing prompts or adding more projects to my list, though, so I didn't want to go that route.
But I did come up with something that I think everyone will really enjoy. Especially those of you who have been voting for Carry Your Heart (I see you in the tags!). So look out for that post.
In addition, I've just posted the first chapter of Arc 2 on AO3! Link below.
Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.
Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.
Arc 1: AO3
Arc 2: AO3 (incomplete); Tumblr - First, Final
Arc 3: First, Previous
Word Count: 1.4k
-----
Fire rushing through him jolted Danny awake. His back arched as he cried out. He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see what torture his parents were going to come at him with next when he realized what the sound of his cry meant: the muzzle was gone.
As were the restraints. And he was lying on something soft. Trying hard not to hope, he opened his eyes.
Sam and Jazz were leaning over him, concern clear on their faces. They were in some sort of ambulance or van.
“How are you feeling,” demanded Sam.
Danny took a moment to answer, his chest was pure agony. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to sit up. And even past that, everything was sore. Though the fire that had woken him up had dissipated, the tell-tale feel of ecto-dejecto. “Pretty much the worst I’ve ever felt,” he answered honestly.
Sam and Jazz both winced and his sister grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers weakly.
At the foot of his bed stood Tim in full Red Robin getup and Kon as Superboy.
He couldn’t hold back the smile as he met Tim’s gaze. “You came,” he said.
Tim didn’t smile back, but some tension eased out of his shoulders. “I always will,” he said. “Been telling you that since we were ten years old.”
“I know. I’ve always known. Thank you.”
Jazz squeezed his hand again and he looked at her. “Red Robin and Superboy are going to take you away from here. Robin will help you recover.”
Sam nodded. “Yep. And the rest of us are gonna focus on making sure Amity is safe for ghosts once and for all.”
Danny shook his head. “I should be there with you guys, fighting.”
“Nope!” interrupted Jazz. “Not even a little. You’re going to focus on getting better, got it, Danny? That’s all we want from you.”
“But the ghosts—”
Sam covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop it right there. Tucker is working with Impulse and Wonder Girl to get the portal locked up. No one will be coming through. No one—ghost or human—will be in any danger while you’re gone. I promise.”
Danny slumped into the bed. Even the slight change in position caused waves of pain to radiate from his chest even through the healing ice he could feel implanted in his body. He whimpered and closed his eyes until the throbbing receded just a bit. “I trust you. I do, it’s just…”
“You’re used to taking care of everyone,” finished Jazz for him. “We know. So let us take care of you for a change. We love you, Danny.”
“Love you, too, Jazz. Sam.”
“Be good for bird-brain there, got it?” ordered Sam.
Danny gave her a half-smile. “Are Tim and I ever good together?”
She laughed. “Well, don’t burn down Gotham, capiche?”
“Capiche.”
“We have to go now,” said Jazz.
Danny gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t leave me.”
Jazz winced, but leaned down to kiss his forehead. “We need to make sure the Guys in White aren’t going to get involved further. And you need to get someplace safe.”
Danny huffed a half laugh. “Gotham is safe?”
Jazz rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke. “For you it is. Now, I’m leaving Red and Superboy with a case full of ectoplasm for you and our entire supply of ecto-dejecto. I just gave you your first injection. Please try and eat something and drink your ectoplasm regularly.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jazz.”
Jazz sniffed and it was only then that Danny realized it was wetter than usual and her eyes were watery. He tried not to feel bad for his jokes when she replied, “Yes, it is whatever I say. Glad you agree.”
Sam cackled, and now that he was paying attention, Danny could hear the hysterical edge to it. “You’d better text us multiple times a day, ghost boy. Don’t try and lie to us, either. Kon’ll tell me the truth about your condition. And as soon as we can arrange it, we’re coming out your way for a visit.”
“Course I will, Sam. Give Tuck my best?”
“Duh. He wishes he could’ve come with us, you know.”
Danny nodded. “But he’s better with the tech stuff and that is just as time sensitive.”
“Yeah. Now, get some sleep,” Sam ordered. “You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”
Danny gave the rote answer after too many all-nighters taking care of ghost attacks before school, “I’m dead, I don’t need sleep.”
His sister squeezed his hand. “Ghosts who just went through what you did need their sleep. Love you, Danny. Get well and I’ll see you soon.”
“Love you, Jazz.”
She kissed his forehead one more time, followed by Sam. And with another two rounds of farewells and love yous, he was alone with Tim and Kon.
“Thanks for coming,” he said again.
“Obviously we weren’t going to leave you there,” said Kon. “Being a lab subject isn’t fun. Especially not that kinda lab experiment.”
Danny couldn’t quite hold back the flinch at that description. It was accurate, but blunt.
Tim walked over until he was sitting by Danny’s bed. “Just listen to Jazz and get some rest. We’re going to be taking the long route to Gotham by going south to start. If we stop for food in a few hours, think you could handle a smoothie?”
Danny shrugged and bit back a yawn. “Could try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Kon moved towards the front of the vehicle as well. “Looks like it’s time for us to skedaddle. I’ll keep the road from jostling you, ghost-boy.”
Danny gave a small smile and let his eyes close. As he did, he tried to mumble his thanks and he hoped it came across.
---
The next time he woke was more gentle. Someone was tapping on his shoulder and calling his name. But even so, as he was pulled closer to awareness, the pain made itself more and more known. He tried to cling to the darkness, but the tapping wasn’t stopping, nor was the person calling him.
He blinked open his eyes to see Tim’s concerned face. He wasn’t wearing the domino anymore, or his costume. Just a sweatshirt and jeans.
“Hey, Danny,” said Tim. “I’m going to need you to try and eat a bit right now. Kon got us those smoothies I mentioned. I’ve also got yogurt if that’ll be easier for you. But the smoothie will have more nutrients.”
Danny closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat. Why did Tim have to bring him back to consciousness for this? He hurt and just wanted to sink back into oblivion.
The tapping on his shoulder began again. “I know, Danny. But you have to eat something. And you should take some ectoplasm, too. So just stay awake for a few minutes.”
“Mm ‘wake,” said Danny without opening his eyes. He shifted his weight, hoping to push himself up to eat, only to scream in pain as his chest protested any movement.
“Shit! Don’t move,” said Tim too late. “I’ve got a spoon here. I’ll feed it to you, okay? So just stay exactly where you are.”
Danny gripped his sheets, unable to do anything else as wave after wave of pain over took him. Tim kept up a litany of reassurances and stroked his hair. Eventually, Danny was able to think past it again.
“Don’t think I can sit up,” said Danny.
“Of course not,” agreed Tim. He held a styrofoam cup between his knees and carefully took off the lid and straw. “Just let me. Take at least a few bites. Swallow as is, don’t try and chew. Just do what you can, okay?”
“Okay,” agreed Danny and Tim fed him the first bite.
Danny hated this. Hated it so much. Here he was being spoon fed like a baby all because his parents… He shut his eyes and took the next bite. He wasn’t going to finish that thought. Tim was here and that’s what mattered.
Danny wasn’t sure how much he ate, but it couldn’t have been much. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and the pull of oblivion stronger.
“Wait, Danny. Stay awake just a little longer, okay?”
Danny groaned but forced his eyes open again.
Tim showed him a bottle of ectoplasm. “Just a few swallows of this, too. Okay?”
He didn’t want to. He’d rather just go to sleep again, but he opened his mouth obediently. By the time he finished his third spoonful, he couldn’t fight it anymore and slumped into the bed. The pain receded back into blackness for a time.
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Next
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Danny is going to be getting all the comfort throughout this. All of them will, tbh. Because no one is happy and they all need a hug or five.
Let me know what you think!
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inkyycapp · 7 months
Text
how i think characters would react
if you got (very) hurt: adventure time edition.
tw/cw : angst, fluff, blood, violence, gore?, terrible story building, implied romance, fionna and cake spoilers, a lot of cringe, self-indulgence, character hcs, etc...
[a/n: this is very sloppy and rush as i made this between classes so it's half edited half not and not at all proof read. forgive me. thank you for the love on my last posts!! i wasn't expecting my adventure time hcs to get the attention it did, thank you so much!! i have finished fionna and cake(twice) so, my hcs might slightly shift a bit. at the moment. thinking of cross posting on ao3. reader is usually always gender neutral in all my posts unless stated otherwise. that's all! i'm open to requests and my dms/pms are open. thank you! new additions as well!! this is all i have, i'm sorry. a few more are in the drafts. please tell me if i missed anything tag and cw/tw wise! thank you.]
[holy shit, fionna and cake's finn. honka honka. i don't deserve a platform.]
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|| it all happened so fast. you could barely recall what happened. one moment you're up-right, after the next you're trying to pick yourself off the ground. your breathing grew more labored at every attempt, and the smell of iron hung heavy in the air. the warm liquid on your hands was a stark contrast to cold that began to wrack your body. it wasn't long 'til your vision faded to black, leaving only questions behind into your last fleeting thoughts. ||
finn.
(the favorite. my favorite.)
-the both of you were exploring an old cave. deep, dark, and damp. it was said to hold treasure far back into the cave, and out of curiosity you both went to explore. what you didn't know was that many people sought out that treasure. many dangerous people.
-going deeper into the cave, you and finn found the treasure, though nothing cool to take back except for a few cool rings. turning on your way out, with your back to the entrance, a sharp pain was felt through your body. looking down you saw the bloodied blade of a sword. you had no time to react as you were shoved off the blade and onto the ground. from there, it was a blur.
-finn would (violently) remove anyone involved. while brutal, he makes sure to end it quick--he doesn't have time for them when you're bleeding out on the ground.
-finn never stopped talking to you, even if you're asleep. it's always optimistic-- he talks about; new things he's found, friends he talked to recently, any new news, old and new stories, the next date he'll take you on, etc... he rambled hours on end in a one-sided conversation. it's how he copes.
-finn's trying to be uplifting. but, by himself he's a mess. he rarely stays at the treehouse because he's too restless. he feels weak, and unable to do anything. when finn's not at your side he's fighting through his feelings. finn had learned it wasn't healthy to use violence as his only outlet, but it makes him feel something that isn't the heavy stone in his chest when he sees you.
-he's a patient man, he knows you'll wake up soon. he just had to be patient. but after around a few days he doesn't want to be "patient" anymore. he wants you to wake up now. finn knows he can't make that happen, but it was a selfish want to keep himself going.
-when you did wake up, he was all over you. there wasn't a time when he wasn't with you, or at least in the same vicinity as you.
-good luck trying to pry yourself away from his arms. this man has fought monsters thrice his size for fun. even your prettiest please wasn't going to work, not this time. you almost died. you could've died and he couldn't do anything about it. those memories never left his brain basket, even when your recovery was going smoothly.
-very anxious about letting you tag along, but knows you'll probably go off on your own if he refuses to take you along. he feels it's safer to allow you to come along, rather than go off on your own. with him, he knows that at least this time he could do better. he won't ever have a repeat of last time.
-finn keeps you close during each adventure, even losing sleep watching the surroundings to be sure no one sneaks up on you. he will refuse to sleep, so you'd have to force him. please give this man all the reassurance, he really needs it. it won't stop his anxiety, or his fear of it happening again, but it puts him at ease. even if it's just a little bit, it helps, nonetheless.
-
fern.
-the green knight has plenty of enemies. of course, fern could protect himself, and you could do the same. however, even if you could protect yourself, there wasn't any chance to protect yourself getting jumped, and a dirty stab to the back. the most dishonorable way to lose to a foe. the amount of ever growing disrespect.
-he loses his shit. sure, he gets mad quickly, but if you were awake to see him like this: holy shit. he grows plentiful thorns, and poison flowers all over himself subconsciously. (he's actually very pretty like this.)
-he's livid, and you're not conscious to do anything about it. and that's just it, you're unconscious, bleeding out on the ground. fern couldn't quite process it just yet. normally you'd stop him from going too far, but you can't right now. that's supposed to never happen. he's confused and angry, and you're not waking up. you're not moving. so, he cuts down anyone involved in a quick motion. he doesn't care how brutal, as long as it's quick. fern wastes no time in picking you up (after managing the thorns and flowers) and taking you to doctor princess.
-fern can't stand seeing you like this. laying weakly on that hospital bed.
-if you think finn's not good at coping, fern is much worse. he doesn't even cope. he's just...there.
-he's so confused, and just shuts down a bit. like he's still there, he's still the green knight-- fern. but, he's just distant. not quite himself-- off.
-fern is unable to wrap his head around what happened to you, but he goes about his 'normal' life. he tries to just go about his casual life without you there, and he's just confused. it doesn't take long before he grows upset, allowing the rage to boil.
-'they used to do that.' 'this was their favorite color.' 'they were supposed to fix that.' 'they like bird houses.' everything reminds him of you. it's impossible to go a single day without a reminder that you're still unconscious.
-i think it gets more apparent when he's out and about as the green knight. he's more violent. but, he doesn't mean to be. it just...happens.
-he's likely not there when you first wake, but when he gets there fern's complaining about everything under his breath. but when he sees you up, that bed isn't just for you anymore.
-he's holding you close, with a firm hold and refusing to let go. he's scolding you for not waking up sooner, and complaining about how life without you was too different. he tried to be casual, but he missed you a bit too much.
-there is also no prying fern off of you-- a common thing between all of them. once you're up, there is no separating you both for a few hours at the least.
-fern is also hesitant about letting you rejoin him on the adventures, but as long as you stay close, and keep weapon on you at all times, he'll agree. but, all of your wounds-- every. single. one.-- had to be medically evaluated as ok, and no threat to your health before anything.
-
farmworld!finn.
(post crown -- pre fionna and cake.)
-he's in shock, not moving for a few moments. he knew why he'd be hated, or hunted down, killed even, but why you? why did they have to drag you into this?
-someone in the many gangs around the parts found you somewhere in the clearing waiting for finn. you both had previously planned a picnic out in a nice clearing in the woods. he was running late. but, once he found you bleeding out and onto grass, he's thrown way off guard.
-finn is quickly trying to pick you off the grass, trying to get you out of there, and dragging you back to his cabin. finn manages to tend to each of your wounds. though, the moment he's done, and you're in a stable condition-- he's leaving the cabin for a few hours.
-he finds whoever did this to you, and doing what he couldn't earlier. finn is driving in the same injuries they gave to you over and over again. he doesn't let up until he's in tears. finn knows that this changes nothing. he knows this won't make him feel better, but he needed to do something. anything. even if it's for his own sadistic pleasure to see the regret on their faces-- to see them like this. pathetically clawing at the dirt in an attempt to ground themselves through the pain-- trying to crawl away from his bloodied hands.
-(robot hand included.)
-finn leaves them with their lives(barely), and a warning before disappearing into the woods.
-he is struggling to cope. finn hold your hand in his abnormally cold one running his thumb over your knuckles. he's constantly checking in on you, and rarely leaving your side. sleeping, and eating could wait. after all that's happened with the crown, you're all he has left. he can't lose you too.
-he stays by your side as much as he can. finn knows he should probably take his mind off of...your condition and stay productive but it's difficult. the only reason the cabin is warm is because if it got too cold you'd start to shake. he makes food only because if you wake up you might be hungry.
-he doesn't know what to do for the most part, just waiting and hoping that you'll be better in no time. a fear lingers deep inside him that you'll worsen the moment he closes his eyes. so, finn stays up. there are times when he has passed out around the house, and when he wakes up he's absolutely terrified; running to check on you, checking to make sure your wounds haven't reopened, making sure you're alive.
-a deep seeded fear the you'll wilt away in his arms. it keeps him up at night-- it eats at him day by day.
-you're finally awake, but even then the fear doesn't fade. he's at you're every call so much that it begins to worry you.
-you'll have to force him, and i mean force him to sleep. you're ok, he's ok-- everything is ok. he can finally rest.
-he's just happy you're still there with him.
-
prismo.
-you? hurt? nope. not on his time watch. prismo has you out of the situation in seconds, without a scratch. he refuses to ever see you in any pain.
-though, hypothetically, if there's ever a time where you do get hurt, and your wounds cannot be fixed with his wish master magic, and he's "too late", he's not so well.
-you're on a comfy little bed in the wishing room, laying on top of him. your wounds are bandaged up, and cleaned, with your breathing finally stable.
-he never leaves you side once. (sensing a pattern in everyone.) it's either him, or a copy of him. when he's granting wishes to whoever manages to make it to his wishing room, he keeps you in the cube with a copy of himself to watch over you.
-tries to make small talk with your unconscious self...it doesn't go well. the owl visits more often only to lay it's eyes upon the slum prismo is in.
-the cosmic owl tries to ease the depression, though fails miserably. if jake is still alive; his visits, brings gifts, barber sessions, the whole mile for his other best bud. it does kinda help, even if it was just a bit-- but, he's greatful nonetheless.
-while he could be doing better, prismo is doing the best out of everyone to be honest(if jake is around). jake's visits have been more than helpful to this guy, and honestly without jake, he'd be worse than just a mess.
-when you wake up he doesn't believe it at first but he's ecstatic. there is never a time where he's not with you, talking your ear off on how horrible it was without you. and while prismo wants to contuine talking you to your grave, he can't deny hearing your voice after so long does wonders to him.
-bonus if jake's around and prismo's like "and i like...really miss her. y'know? like she's right there but she's not..." "no, dude, i get it..." "i'd kill just to hear her voice just once..." "...prismo..." "ah, shit now i'm hallucinating!!" "no prismo, behind you." "jake, don't play into my delusions!" "god dammit prismo." "YOU'RE AWAKE!? FINALLY."
scarab.
-this man is already insane. he already needs therapy. the anger issues on this psychotic man are insane.
-he loses all sense of morality(that he had left) but surprisingly holds off and tends to you first. by sending you back to headquarters for someone to tend to your injuries while scarab spends the next few hours tearing their molecules apart.
-honestly the worst out everyone. like, if he has a chance to off someone, they're going to die but in the most unconventional, painful, most gruesome way possible. he's....coping?
-at this point it's hard to tell with him, one moment he's rambling under his breath about annoyances, the next....he's offically lost it!!
-sadly he can't be at you're side at all times even if he really wants to, but with his job and all that. when given any chance he's right there next to you. he excuses this behavior as protecting you against anyone who might try anything, but in reality: it's just hard to stay away when you're like this. he wants to stay close even if he can't sometimes.
-scarab has difficulties with intimacy, so he finds it difficult to express his concern the "right" way. others see him as uneffected, and taking it too easy, but he is genuinely scared. he's scared that he loses the one person who can see him for what he is. an emotionally fucked up person who can't stand rule breakers.(joking).
-he finds holding your hand a way to ease the tension.
-when you wake up, he just sitting there, holding your hand.
-he's never letting you go anywhere without a weapon three times your size. of course he teaches you how to use it, but just because he wants you to protect yourself when he cannot. scarab views your injuries as him failing as a partner in more ways than one. he should've made sure you could protect yourself even when he couldn't.
-later on after your wounds have healed you're allowed with him on his missions. he denies being scared. reassure him anyways, he really needs it.
e/n: sorry prismo's and scarab's are short! first time writing them :')
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rogueddie · 1 year
Text
Fake Dating Steddie Fic Rec
Important: READ THE TAGS! Leave a comment and kudos! If I was only allowed read fake dating fics like these, I would die happy 🤞
I Like to See You in the Morning Light
BonitaBreezy
"Wait,” Eddie said, his drug-addled brain catching up suddenly. “Wait! My alibi is that I was having sex with Steve Harrington?”
After it all, Eddie Munson is left to pick up the cracked pieces of his life. Luckily, he has new friends to fall back on.
Words : 27,362 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
you want it straight from the heart (why can't this be love?)
emryses
Steve let out a long sigh. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, okay?”
“You could at least sound happier about it,” Robin muttered.
Words : 12,417 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
i’ve got you under my skin
strawberryspence
Steve Harrington has to marry Eddie Munson (also know as the Devil Incarnate), so Eddie won’t get deported back to Canada and for Steve to finally achieve his dream to be a producer.
Or: The Proposal AU Steddie Edition
Words : 49,923 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Saying I love you to your best friend, and to the friend that could perhaps be something more
songsformonkeys
Ever since he discovered that he liked girls - and that, generally, girls liked him too - Steve Harrington has not spent a single Valentine's Day alone. 1987 is shaping up to be the first and that really sucks.
Eddie, fed up with listening to Steve's complaining, agrees to be his date for the day.
Words : 5,901 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
Invitations
nbfutureboy
Steve’s being harassed about his love life, and enlists Eddie’s help over Christmas break to get Dustin off his back. All he has to do is pretend to be Steve’s boyfriend in front of all of his loved ones!
Words : 6,902 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Let's Be More Than Strangers
DrowningByDegrees
It’s meant to be a one-off favor to Robin, Eddie passing himself off as her boyfriend. Robin gets to hang onto the secret of why she never so much as bats an eyelash at the guys who come into Scoops Ahoy. Eddie gets more ice cream than he knows what to do with and the opportunity to pull one over on the former King of Hawkins High. Unfortunately, it all works just a little too well, and Eddie finds himself continuing to come back.
Words : 19,592 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Can we always be friends? (We've got too much love)
sparrow_in_hawkins
Steve offers to be Robin's pretend boyfriend to get the guys at school to leave her alone. She's reluctant at first, until Steve admits that he's not interested in dating girls anymore anyway.
Meanwhile, Eddie's encounters with Steve Harrington had always been brief, but he could never help being captivated by him. Naturally, he doesn't know how to react as Steve starts popping into his life more than ever--probably should do nothing, because Steve has a girlfriend. Right?
Words : 42,525 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
i know what you want from me
hyxzw
After two years of getting rejected from college, and totaling nineteen of disappointing his father, Steve Harrington decides to finally reclaim his life by spending the summer kissing Eddie Munson.
Words : 86,788 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
A Coat of Paint
songbvrd
Steve agrees to help Eddie paint his trailer, but isn't prepared for the bisexual crisis it sends him spiralling into.
Words : 56,334 Chapters : 13/13 Rating : Explicit
AO3 : x
Two Truths and a Lie About Steve Harrington
endzela
Steve is desperate to find a date for his high school reunion, and his best friend Eddie volunteers to pretend to be his boyfriend. What Eddie doesn't know, however, is that Steve has had a crush on him ever since they became friends in college, and although Steve is not planning on letting him find out about it now, spending a week together in the same room might make things difficult. Especially since Eddie keeps flirting with him at every chance he gets.
Words : 20,057 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
431 notes · View notes
mangowillow · 8 months
Text
last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams
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pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!
word count: 3,900
author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!
fic masterlist
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New York, 2023
It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.
Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.
“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”
“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”
“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.
Does that make him a bad person? 
“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.
“Why? Why do you have to?”
Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.
“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.
But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.
“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”
Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.
Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”
Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.
“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”
Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.
Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead. 
“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.
Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?” 
Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”
“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”
“Is it true?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”
Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night. 
Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.
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Seoul, 2023
Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen. 
And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than. 
In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.
For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you. 
This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.
“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.
You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.
“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…” 
Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.
“Happy birthday, ____”
You don’t respond. 
“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”
You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”
Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.
“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.” 
With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”
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As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.
“What is that supposed to be?”
You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”
“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”
You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.” 
Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated. 
“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”
You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.
“I promise.”
Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”
“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.
“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”
You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.
“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”
“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”
“Seokjin—”
“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”
“I am,” you answer with a smirk.
“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”
“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”
Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”
“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.
“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”
“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.
“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.
“I know you’re worried about me—”
“I am, you brat.”
“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”
“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”
“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”
“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”
“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.
“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”
You grin wide, “I promise.”
“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”
Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”
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The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights. 
Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.
Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.
Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul. 
“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.
“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”
“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”
“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.
“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”
“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.
“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.
“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”
“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him. 
“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”
“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.
Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.
“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.
“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”
“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.
Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?” 
“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”
“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.
“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”
“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.
You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”
Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”
Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”
Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.
“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.
“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.
“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.
“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”
You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.
“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.
“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”
None of your friends respond. 
“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.
“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles. 
Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.
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♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”
“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”
“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”
“I never said I resented you.”
“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”
“W-what do you mean you can’t—”
“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”
Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.
Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.
“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.
“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”
That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”
From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?
Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”
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“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”
You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”
“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”
“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.
“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio. 
Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.
You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”
You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.
“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”
You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away. 
With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.
“You’re just in time.”
253 notes · View notes
slxsherwriter · 26 days
Text
Love is a Labor
Fandom: Joy Ride
Pairings: Rusty Nail x Single Mother reader
Word count: 2,127
Warnings: None
Author's note: This is for @umnitsa who had asked for a second part of A Chance at New Beginnings and have it be fluff (sorry I couldn't expand on the further part of that request this was where my brain went). Have some soft, domestic Rusty.
Tagging: @tinalbion
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“Are you really sure about this?” The question came for what had to be the fifteenth time in the last hour. It was coming from a place of good intentions, that much was well known. But after so many times, that raw nerve of irritation was starting to flare. 
“Yes. The answer isn't going to change. It hasn't yet, and it won't.” Your friend sighed beside you, still not convinced that this was anything other than a bad idea. A fact that had also been aired out several times over the last two days. Ever since you announced the plans to meet up with Rusty. This time with Michael in tow. 
“I just…I got a bad feeling about this guy. You've met him once, talked to him, what? Three times? And now you are going to meet him with your kid?” All good and valid points. You were thankful for the concern and the worry. It meant that she cared. What she didn't know? You had been talking with Rusty almost nightly for the past month. Yeah, you had only met with him once up until now. Maybe it was a little silly, but his presence had made you feel safe, far safer than anyone else in your life had ever managed. He had already proven himself good with Michael. So why not? Did it feel a little like a rebound after what you had gone through with your ex? Slightly. But that wasn't the point. Rusty was kind, patient, and caring. You considered him a good friend. The attraction that you had to the man that had seemingly ignited out of nowhere was just a side point. 
“I get you're worried, and I appreciate it. I really do. But there isn't anything to be worried about, okay? It's not like I'm going to meet up with him at some motel. We are meeting in a public place. You know where I'll be, and there are going to be plenty of other people around.”
“I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?" It wasn't defeat in her voice but awful close to it.
“Not a chance.” You leaned in and gave your friend a hug. “Everything's going to be just fine, okay? I know it.” The huff that came from her told you all that you needed to know; she didn't believe a word that you had said and was still going to panic over the entire thing. If it wasn't, well, she would get to say I told you so. Michael appeared in the doorway, wearing a grin and tucking his truck into the little backpack he carried everywhere. 
“Come on, mom.” There hadn't been this sort of impatience about him before. It was endearing and solidified your choice in this whole thing. “If we're late, we might miss him.”
“We aren't going to miss him, I promise.” You scooped your son up into your arms and smiled. “Got everything?” He nodded.
“You two be careful, okay?”.
“We will be. Let's get going then.” You got Michael's shoes on and tucked him up in his jacket before heading out the door and to the agreed meeting spot. Location services on your phone turned on as per the request of your friend and current roommate. 
Okay, so the meeting spot wasn't exactly largely full of people. You had opted for a park. Still a little dangerous, yes, but you truly weren't worried. Besides, it gave Michael open space to play and be away from the man if he did feel uncomfortable. He was four after all, being cramped into a coffee shop, or something of the like wasn't fair. The weather was nice enough, just on the right side of chilly and clouds provided just enough cover where the sun wasn't constantly beaming down into eyes. You had settled on a bench, letting Mike play with the trucks that he brought in the sand not too far off. 
“Excuse me, that seat taken?” The low, gravelly voice was one you could recognize in your sleep by now. 
“Well, I was saving it for someone,” you offered back, looking up at the towering figure with a grin. You couldn't entirely see his face from how he was standing, hat keeping half of his face shielded. “But, I guess I could offer it. You seem like a nice man.”
“Very kind of you.” Rusty moved to settle on the bench beside you. Not close enough that he was pressed against your side but enough that you could feel the heat radiating from the man. A pleasant feeling. “How are you doing today, darling?”
“I'm good. How are you?” He looked tired. Had he come right from the road here? You wouldn't have been surprised. From your understanding, he lived further south on a nice quiet piece of land. It sounded like a little slice of heaven, if you could be honest. That felt like too much to say to the man, though, so it was a thought you kept to yourself. His eyes found you before flicking briefly to Michael. 
“Got nothing to complain about.” Michael looked up and saw the man sitting beside you, and all else was immediately forgotten about, trucks abandoned in the sand to run over to you both. 
“Are you Rusty?” Rusty leaned forward just a little bit, elbows resting against his knees. 
“I am. You must be Michael.” Your son beamed at the recognition, lightly bouncing on his feet.
“Do you really drive a big truck?” Rusty chuckled softly at the eager question that came. Thankfully, he didn't seem bothered that Michael had launched right into the questioning. Others may have been. 
“I do. Even drove it here. If your ma says it's, we can go look at it.” Michael's eyes widened almost impossibly large before his head whipped to you. 
“Can we mom? Please?” He had never been in a real truck before. You could hear your friends voice screaming in your head about how terrible an idea it was, but at the same time, you truly felt no danger from the man and trusted that everything would be safe. There was also a worry that if you denied his request, the poor boy might just have spontaneous combust. There was a risk of that happening, too, with you agreeing. But it was a far better risk. 
“Of course, but you have to listen to everything he says, okay? I don't want you getting hurt because you are so excited.”
“I promise.” 
“No better time than now. Whatcha think, big man?” Michael was ecstatic, and the yes that came was both enthusiastic and loud. “Go get your stuff, and we'll go look at my truck.” If it had been a cartoon, there would have been burn marks trailing behind him. You couldn't help the small laugh and fond shake of your head. Your son was something else. 
��I think you might have made his year.” He was leaning back, and before you knew it, his arm was around your shoulders. Heavy but fully pleasant. A sensation that you could get used to quickly. 
“Now I just need to find out how to make yours.” The flirting tease had heat rising to your cheeks. There wasn't a quick response to that, and the floundering surely had to be clear to him. His warm breath ghosted over your cheek as his lips briefly pressed to the skin. “That blush is mighty cute, darling.” Yeah, he absolutely had you there. However, Michael came running back over and cut off anything else that might have been said. Standing up, you took the tiny hand that was held out to you. Though, you didn't move since Michael hesitated just a second before reaching his other out to Rusty. 
Your heart melted as he didn't seem to take even a second to think about it. His large hand dwarfed Michael's, more so than your own. Then, the three of you were off to his truck. 
Finding parking for the rig clearly hadn't been easy since it was a bit of a walk to where he had left it. Not that it seemed to matter all that much as your son's excitement filled the silence and the distance.
“You said it was black, right? Why black?” As soon as Rusty would finish answering one, another would come. “Does it have a really loud horn?” And so on it went until you came to the rig. You knew almost nothing about trucks, but the monster of a truck seemed to fit the man with you in an odd way. Rusty knelt down, letting go of Michael's hand. 
“All right. Now, I know you promised your ma that you were going to listen. And we don't lie to ma, right?” Michael nodded, staring intently at the man. “Good. Now, I'm gonna have to pick you up to get in. I don't want you climbing yourself, trying to get in or out. It's a long way up, and you could get hurt if you do fall. I need you to hold on real tight. Can you do that?” Michael glanced at you, wanting the reassurance it seemed. There was a bit of that shy nature coming out. 
“It’s okay, buddy.” Rusty waited patiently, his eyes not leaving Michael this time. “You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you want to see the inside of the truck, Rusty has to carry you up.” 
“It's up to you.” Rusty backed up the fact that no one was forcing him to do anything that he didn't want to do. A few more seconds passed before Michael finally nodded. 
“Okay.” His curiosity and eagerness about the truck had trumped the shyness. 
“All right. Let me go get it unlocked and opened up, okay?” He pushed back up and moved off to his truck after shooting you a smile. You reached out to take the backpack from your son, kneeling down beside him to help soothe any of the nerves that he still had going on. 
“This is exciting! Getting to go into a truck like that.” He nodded, eyes moving from the truck to you and back. “Everything's going to be okay.” Finally, a smile came to his face. That was more what you wanted to see. Rusty came wandering back over. 
“Ready?” 
“Yeah.” He knelt down so that Michael could come to him, lifting him up only when your son had wrapped his arms around the man's neck. You followed right alongside them, unable to help yourself from grinning as more excitement came forth from Michael. “Why don't you get in from the other side?” He suggested with a smile, one hand holding your son to him securely, the other wrapped around the grab handle. Nodding, you did just as suggested and moved to the other side of his truck, having to climb up a step before even opening the door. 
“Wow…” Rusty was already settled into the driver seat, letting Michael look around at everything. From the wheel to the mirror and beyond. He was behaving well, not touching anything. Rusty shifted him so he was more seated in his lap. 
“Go on, you can take a hold of the wheel, big man.” The gleeful laugh that came from him had the both of you smiling. His hands looked small against the wheel. In that moment, you reached for your phone to snap a picture, not even thinking to ask if the man would mind. It was just a moment that you wanted to capture. 
“This is so cool.” 
“Yeah, I guess it is.” Carefully, once Michael had his fill, Rusty set him to the side and motioned for him to head into the back of the cab, where a little bed was set up. It allowed him to explore the small space. 
“Hope you don't mind me taking a picture…” 
“Not at all, darling. Ya wanna see him get really excited?” Your cheeks actually hurt so much from smiling. It was the most that you had done since leaving the better part of three months ago. “Hey, Michael. You wanna honk the horn?” Michael scrambled back to the front so quickly that he nearly tripped and landed face first into the shifter. Rusty had managed to catch him just in time. 
“Easy there, buddy. Don't need your first ride here to be a trip to the ER.” It was a bit astounding how good he was with your son, but you couldn't have asked for more in that moment. Nothing about this had been a mistake. And it wouldn't be moving forward with whatever happened to come between you and this man. 
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osaka-lilac · 3 months
Note
Asking you to kindly elaborate on the strollonso football au:
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hello raapija my beloved, i would love to elaborate <3
for those out of the loop, refer to my tags on this post!
warning: i am an american with a incredibly basic understanding of footy ("soccer"). there is a reason the actual talk of any gameplay is basic and limited
fernando is this new guy to Lawrence Stroll's footy team right. (because in every universe, lawrence has to own a Team.) i can imagine he's some draft pick from spain for a new striker or something like that. possibly some trade, maybe a mid-season exchange (they do that in american football but idk if they do that in footy) those who know specifics of positions in footy please let me know your thoughts on what position fernando would play
lance: couldn't give two shits about footy. he's seen maybe once in a blue moon on the sidelines tagging along, and he's known for being visibly bored or on his phone during matches. (he has the Pout Blast 3000 for this.)
the reputation he receives from fans is much like the perceived impressions he gets irl: some spoiled kid who shouldn't be there. he's more into hockey than any match his dad's team could ever play.
now when fernando shows up its like a fucking slap to the face. like. "holy fuck i didn't think they could be this hot" type beat.
for the first time, lance shows up to a team practice with his father, not just a match. but he's really not there for the team: he is enamored by fernando. his speed. he's a sly yet devilishly handsome fucker with this wicked grin when he knows he's tricked his opponent yet again, and lance is obsessed.
not only does he start going to way more matches. he also starts showing visible interest and gets invested. and he gets loud. the mumbles online about his "spoiled reputation" turn to joy. he becomes a meme of the team for a few weeks after a clip of him getting frustrated after a poorly-called card is given to fernando ends up going viral.
and maybe this entire time, fernando has been watching this young boy from afar. he totally believes he can't be with his literal manager's young son and jeopardize his spot on the team and a shot at glory. and maybe he believes that lance initially isn't interested. but maybe when he sees lance become more invested in the team, he figures he might have a chance. he just can't figure out why lance has become so invested in what was, quite frankly, a very short amount of time.
so maybe fernando's on the side for a while in a practice. lance is there, but he seems distant. not in the game. not really watching the drills by the other players with much enthusiasm. and fernando's a smart man. and he puts some pieces together in his brain. and makes a move.
he comes up to lance and asks to talk with him once practice is done. when all the other players are gone. in the locker room. of course lance agrees
flash forward a bit. n lance is like. hanging out by the exit outside of the locker room. he counts all the players. and when there's only one left. he goes inside. finds fernando sitting on one of the benches, still in his kit.
they get to talking. what lance does outside of being at games, (i can imagine him being a student but i don't have the will to kin assign him a major right now), what his favorite hockey team is (habs. of course) and of course, the loaded question:
"lancito, what's gotten you so interested in the team now?"
of course, lance doesn't really respond to this, kinda dances around the question. he gets flustered. he doesn't want to be found out. what if he sees right through him, what if he already knows, what if he tells his dad??
fernando leans in slightly, and slides his hand over lance's hip. he cups his chin softly, and slowly turns lance's head to look at fernando straight on.
"be honest, niñito."
and when has lance ever been anything but honest.
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heizlut · 10 days
Text
So This is Love
cw: angst/misunderstandings
tags: fem!reader from natlan, kaeya being kaeya, angst/comfort/smut, diluc is heavily mentioned, venti and jean are also mentioned, mostly proofread
a/n: don't ask how many words this is, it's a lot😅
m!list here
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛
Kaeya would do anything for you, why couldn't you just see that? He didn't understand since he had been so attentive towards you, even after that one night where he witnessed something from outside the window of Angel's Share that made him feel too many emotions at once. Was he just not enough for you? Did you move on? Even worse, did you truly choose Diluc? These thoughts consume him constantly and tear at his aching heart.
So, in this moment, Kaeya is standing there soaked from the pouring rain in front of your door as you look up at him with a mix of confusion and concern. His gaze full of turmoil as he stares down into your eyes, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?", his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache.
But how did you two even get to this point? Had things always been this way? No, they hadn't. And Kaeya was more determined than ever to have you by his side.
❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ
Being in Mondstadt was certainly quite the culture shock for you since you had come from Natlan. Mondstadt was a far-cry from the scorching heat and endless wars that consumed your nation. Everything here was so peaceful and freeing. There seemed to be no archon ruling over the place finding joy in calling for constant war between its people. In fact, the archon seemed largely absent here but many people still held faith for him.
It was...nice. You felt like you could breathe without smelling the stench of death and fire. You certainly turned heads when you arrived here since you did not look like the people who resided in this nation nor did you dress like them. Maybe if you had gone to Sumeru instead, less heads would have turned at your appearance, but you wanted to get as far from Natlan as possible.
The guards at the gates leading in Mondstadt City looked at you warily while you looked at them with curiosity. "Who are you and what is your purpose here?", one of the guards spoke. You blink a couple of times as your brain processes the language difference and makes the switch to their tongue, "I'm here for refuge." The two men cast sideways glances at each other before looking back at you, "And how long do you plan on staying?" You frowned slightly as you thought, "For as long as I can."
The guards looked skeptical of you and one narrowed their eyes at you as he spoke, "Come with me. I'll escort you to the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius where you can meet with the Acting Grandmaster." Just as he turned around to lead you, Venti seemed to pop out of nowhere with a bright smile and curious eyes, "Who's this?" The guard jumped, startled by Venti's sudden appearance and put a hand to his chest to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest from the innocent scare, "Gah!" He clicked his tongue, "If it isn't Venti the bard... We have someone new here and I was going to escort them to the Knights Headquarters."
You looked at Venti curiously, trying to figure out if he was someone you could trust. It was a habit you didn't think you would be rid of anytime soon. But he only smiled happily at you then back at the guard, "Let me take her. I have nothing else going on right now." The guard hesitated for a moment, then released a deep, defeated sigh, "Fine. I shouldn't leave my post anyways." Venti's bright smile seemed to get even brighter at his relentence. He looked back to you, "Come and follow me!" You only shrugged and began to follow after him.
Walking through the main city beside Venti, you felt many eyes on you. Some wary of you while others just looked on in curiosity. Maybe they would relax if you had walked with a small smile on your face, but alas, resting bitch face was your default unless you were among close friends (which you could count on only one hand). Venti chattered away endlessly as you followed him as if he had known you for ages, but you hardly listened. The only thing that caught your attention was the towered statue of the nations archon. You paused as Venti continued to speak, until he shortly noticed you had stopped, "Huh? Is something wrong?" Your eyes go from the statue to him, back and forth a couple of times before you finally spoke, "Do your people not realize that you are their archon? Why do they call you the bard and seem to disregard you?"
Venti's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, "Oh... That's um..." You raised a brow at him, "Why do you hide your identity?" Venti paused again, but recovered by clearing his throat, "I would rather the people have full freedom then feel the need to bow down to me, I don't want to go into details." You simply regarded his words with a shrug, "Well, that's your choice, I guess." Venti blinked at your nonchalant acceptance but quickly smiled his usual bright smile, "Anyways, that's enough of that tour. I'll take you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters now."
It wasn't long before you both arrived to HQ and entered through the grand double doors. Venti approached the first door on the left, "And this is Acting Grandmaster Jean's office." Venti stepped aside to allow you to enter first, but before you hand could even turn to handle, the door flew open. A hard mass ran into you and the next thing you knew, you were on the ground. Your nose scrunched up from the fall and a smooth voice sounded out, "Oh my! I am so sorry. Please, let me..." The voice trailed off as you looked up at the source.
Light periwinkle eye met yours. You studied the tall tanned man before you as he looked at you, not with wariness, but with pure awe. Venti stared at the interaction and then let out a light knowing giggle which snapped both you and the man out of it. The man cleared his throat and held out his hand out towards you and you took it. After you were pulled back to your feet, the man gave you a charming smile, "The name's Kaeya. Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonius." His smooth voice made you feel as though you were being wrapped up in a soft blanket. "I'm y/n", you replied then looked down at where his hand was still holding yours, "You can let go now..."
Kaeya's cheeks reddened immediately and he let go of your hand, letting out an awkward laugh, "Sorry about that." A blonde woman peeked behind Kaeya's shoulder, "And who might this be?" Kaeya stepped aside to allow both you and Jean to get a better look at each other and Venti spoke up, "She's new here and will be staying here for awhile." Jean smiled softly at you, "Then, please, come in. We can discuss any questions you might have and I'll find you a good place to stay while you're here." With that, you entered her office and discussions began.
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After Jean had escorted you to your new home, you were finally alone again. You laid flat on your back against the small, soft twin-sized bed as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. "Things will be different now... Things will be better... At least I hope so...", you spoke aloud to noone. Since it had become late in the day and you were too exhausted to prepare a meal for yourself or purchase clothes that better with this nation, you resigned yourself to head to the tavern Venti spoke so highly of.
Making your way through town as the sun hung low in the sky that casted pink and purple hues over everything, you push open the door to Angel's Share and were instantly greeted with music from a bard you didn't know and drunk patrons laughing and talking loudly throughout the cozy space. Your eyes drifted over to the bar where you spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair. Your heart instantly jumped in your chest at the sight of a familiar hair color that the majority of your nation bore. He made you feel a small comfort with something so familiar.
Without much thought, you strode over to where he was and sat on one of the bar stools that creaked slightly underneath you. The sound caught the man's attention, he paused his wiping of the drinking glass he had been cleaning as his crimson eyes met yours, "What can I get for you?" His voice was deep and almost monotonous, but there was a sense of comfort tied to it. He studied you with a brief curiosity before he apparently decided your different appearance didn't matter to him.
"I'll take a Queimada", you replied instantly earning you a quirked brow from the man. "Apologies, but we don't serve that here. From that choice though, you must be from Natlan, correct?", his question wasn't wary, simply curious as he took in your appearance yet again. You nodded once, "That's right." There was a bit of an awkward pause that the man had no intention of filling, so you were the first to break it, "I'll just take what specialty you serve here." With a nod, he made your drink and set it down in front of you, the golden liquid looked bright and sweet, "Enjoy."
You took a sip and it wasn't long before you had downed 3 more glasses of what you learned to be dandelion wine. You finally cracked a little smile at the brooding man and introduced yourself, to which he finally casted a glance your way for the first time in a while, "I'm Diluc, the owner of Dawn Winery and Angel's Share." His response was gruff though you could tell he meant no harm by it. You both had been fine with the silence between the two of you as you drank what he served you, but with the alcohol that buzzed beneath your skin, you longed for more conversation. Before further conversation could ensue, you heard a familiar sing-song voice calling out to you, "Y/n! Come join us!"
Diluc groaned which made you turn to see the one who called out to you. It was no other than Venti who sat with a smirking Kaeya. You quirked a brow at Diluc to which he gave you a defeated and narrowed look, "Those two cause too much disturbance. It would best if you didn't get too wrapped up with them." But you being you, took that as a bit of challenge, "I can handle it." Diluc rolled his eyes at your response and didn't spare you a second glance as you strolled over to the two men who desired your presence.
Kaeya got up and pulled the chair out for you. One corner of your lips curled up as you gave him a teasing look, "Such a gentleman." He bowed dramatically, playing along, "Of course, my dear~" This display pulled a laugh from you that caused Kaeya to feel a tug on his heart, but he hid it behind a cheeky smile and sat down when you did as well. The night went on and whenever Kaeya got up to retrieve more drinks for both you and Venti, the girls seemed to flock to him. You couldn't help but watch as he never turned down flirtations from the girls and expertly charmed them in return.
You weren't close enough to Kaeya to feel any sort of jealousy, but part of you silently admitted you hated what you saw. That small part of you hoped he treated you and only you like that. What a silly thought to have for someone you had just met earlier that day... Without your knowing, Venti took in your very subtle disheartened look whenever Kaeya charmed someone else. Not that he would particularly do anything with this new information, but he didn't like seeing you unhappy.
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Weeks seemed to pass by quicker than you had expected. Some of the people of Mondstadt were still wary of you and kept their distance, not that you particularly cared much. You were happy with your small group of people you were now considering your friends that consisted of Kaeya, Venti, Diluc, and Jean. You remember being with Jean when you decided you should probably purchase clothes that better fit with the style of Mondstadt. You looked at her as if she were crazy when she came over to your place and handed you an off-the-shoulder long sleeve top, a brown corset, and dark green pants.
She insisted that you put it on and relented with a heavy sigh, going into your bathroom and changing. When you stepped out in the new outfit, Jean looked so proud, "Come on. You should be out and about in this!" You felt awkward leaving your home in an outfit that felt foreign to you, but when the two of you came across Kaeya by the fountain in the center of the city, you felt differently. Jean looked up at him expectantly, "Welllll? What do you think?"
Kaeya stood there stunned at the way you looked. His eye trailed your figure, taking in the swell of the top of your breasts and the way the corset hugged your figure tightly and oh... the pants.... He felt his cock twitch involuntarily and a slight blush crept to his tanned cheeks, "You look more beautiful than ever." You weren't entirely sure of how genuine his words were since the tone of his voice was the same tone he used to charm every other woman who approached him with flirtatious intentions. That small part of you whispered to you that you wanted him to only say those words to you in such a tone, but you knew from what you had observed, that wouldn't ever be likely. Kaeya seemed to belong to everyone.
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As months passed, you felt yourself longing for Kaeya's attention, but he always seemed just out of your grasp even if he spent most of his free time with you and the others. You knew it seemed foolish to have that desire, but you couldn't help how you felt towards him. You two had grown quite close and even shared moments where you felt as though he felt the same way towards you.
One memory you can recall of such an instance is when he insisted on walking you home late at night after quite a few rounds of drinks. The warm air felt comfortable as it brushed through your hair and his as you both walked. The streets were mostly quiet besides the sounds of frogs croaking somewhere in the distance and bugs singing their nightly songs. There was a brief moment in which your hand brushed against his and you muttered a quick apology. Kaeya chuckled softly in response and told you it was fine.
Part of you wished you were brave enough to just take his hand in yours, but instead you were a coward. Once you reached your doorstep, you turned and looked up at Kaeya who gave a soft smile down at you, "Goodnight. Sleep well." His voice and the way he looked at you made you want so much more. You stood there lost in him, wishing he would kiss you.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Kaeya tilted his head ever-so slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and lowered his voice, "Are you alright?" You blinked and gave a half-hearted smile, "I'm fine. Must've just had too much to drink..." Kaeya visibly relaxed at your answer, "Well, have a good night then. I should be going now." You kept your half-hearted smile, "Yeah. Goodnight, Kaeya." He gave one more soft smile and turned, walking away into the night.
Another memory you were quite fond of was another time were it had been just you and Kaeya. You were sitting on the edge of Starsnatch Cliff letting your legs dangle as the wind threaded through your hair. "Need some company?" a smooth voice spoke out to you. You turned your head to see a smirking Kaeya approaching. You gave him a slight smile in return and he sat down next to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, but neither of you moved away at the feeling.
Kaeya broke the peaceful silence between you, "Do you come here often?" You barked out a laugh that turned into genuine laughter, “Does that line usually work for you?" Kaeya raised a brow at your response, but once the realization struck him he laughed, "I've never had to use that line before, so you tell me..." He gently grasped your chin and leaned in dangerously close with a smirk, his voice lowered, "Did it work?"
Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned crimson at the closeness and the gesture. You quickly came back to yourself and swatted his hand away, turning you face back to the sprawling view in front of you, "You'll have to try a little harder. Lines like that don't work on me." Kaeya looked amused but also faced to view that captured your attention and spoke nonchalantly, "Guess I'll have to be better next time."
Later that evening, you came home to find three cecelias tied together on a blue string with a little note that read: Hopefully this is an improvement from cheesy pick-up lines. Your heart skipped a beat. This certainly was better than any cheesy pick-up line.
From then, your heart seemed to ache for him even more. But seeing the way he was with every other woman really made you feel like shit, so you turned to the one who knew him best, Diluc.
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It was evening when you made the decision to ask for Diluc's advice, strolling into Angel's Share with a disheartened look. Diluc's crimson eyes met yours as soon as you walked in and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw the look on your face, "What's wrong?"
You sighed and plopped down on one of the bar stools, immediately crossing your arms on top of the bar and resting your forehead down on them. "This is so stupid. I'm so stupid. I hate this...", your voice came out muffled from the position you were in, but Diluc caught the gist of your grumbles. "Come on, lift your head up. How can I possibly help if I can't even hear what's troubling you?", his voice was stern but was mixed with genuine worry. Though Diluc wasn't one to be generally close with others, he felt that all those times he spent around you that he was comfortable with you.
You finally lifted your head and Diluc's somewhat stern expression morphed to pure concern when he saw the tears pricking your eyes. Immediately he announced for everyone to get out of the tavern, stating they were closing early for the night. People grumbled, not wanting their drinking shenanigans to end to early, but they left as they were told. As soon as the tavern was empty, he came from behind the bar and sat next to you, his voice low with worry, "Tell me why you're crying."
You sniffled as tears threatened to spill, "This is so stupid. I shouldn't even be crying." Diluc frowned, "No. Whatever it is, it's making you cry. Not once have I seen you cry while you've been staying here in Mondstadt. So tell me." You bit the inside of your cheek and then relented. As you explained your feelings about Kaeya, the only thing that kept Diluc from confirming that you were indeed stupid to even have feelings for his brother were your tears that continuously rolled down your cheeks.
In a soft gesture that Diluc didn't do for just anyone, he gently wiped one of the tears from your cheek with the pad of his gloved thumb, "Your feelings and concerns aren't stupid, even if I don't agree with you having romantic feelings for Kaeya, I can't disregard them just because I personally dislike him for my own reasons." You looked into his eyes and knew he was being genuine with you, "But what do I even do? I hate feeling like this..." Diluc frowned as he tried to come up with a proper response for something he had never dealt with before, "Try to distract yourself. Put your focus on yourself and when you're ready, start to focus on someone new."
You pondered his words for a moment with shaky breaths, "But what if I can't?" Diluc gently grabbed your shoulders and leaned closer to you, "You can. You're a strong woman, so don't doubt yourself." For some reason his words made you cry again, perhaps not from sadness, moreso from feeling too much at once. This startled Diluc and he did what he thought would be best to calm you. He stood up and brought you into his arms in a warm, comforting embrace. He held you and smoothed your hair as you cried into his chest.
One thing the two of you did not know what Kaeya was there just outside the tavern, having watched this exchange from the front window. He didn't know what had been said between the two of you, but seeing the way Diluc wiped your tears in an intimate gesture and held you against him in his arms made something twist in Kaeya's stomach. So, you had supposedly chosen Diluc. Maybe you wanted Diluc this whole time. Kaeya witnessing what had just happened seemed to bring a sense of finality to his question. To him, you chose his brother.
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Ever since that night, you had noticed that Kaeya seemed to be avoiding you which made you feel incredibly worse. You wanted to listen to Diluc's advice and push past your feelings for Kaeya since he seemed so unattainable. Kaeya would still spend some evenings with you and the others, but more frequently began to find excuses for why he couldn't join you all. When he was around you, he still had that mischievous charm, that sweet but sly smirk, and kind compliments that he gave to you. He seemed the same as ever, but with the growing distance, you weren't sure what to think.
You made yourself believe that you were fine with this. Diluc said to keep your distance as well so you tried to not let it get to you whenever Kaya couldn't join you are the group. But fuck, it did bother you. So fucking much. Will this heartache ever go away? No.
Apparently you were only getting ready to be completely heartbroken.
You couldn't have known what you were about to walk into. How could you have? You had gone to the tavern as usual, already accepting that Kaeya said he wouldn't be able to make it for whatever made up excuse he came up with this time. You sat at the bar having some light-hearted conversation with Diluc and throwing back a drink or maybe more than just one. Your brain was swimming with the alcohol you had consumed and excused yourself to the bathroom to splash your face with water to sober up a little.
Before you could even make it there, you heard a familiar laugh.
Kaeya's laugh. Your first thought was that it was a comforting sound only for your second thought to come barrelling in. What was he doing here? He said he couldnt make it so why the hell were you hearing his laughter? With the alcohol flooding your mind and heating your body, you went to find the source.
The sound of his flirtatious, sultry voice could not be mistaken for someone else's. The voice carried you to the second floor of Angel's Share. And there he was. He wasn't alone. Some pretty little blonde stood there, leaning over his table and propping herself up on her elbows as her ass stuck out in the position she put herself in. You couldn't hear what either of them said because the pounding of your heart filled your ears.
You stood there in some kind of stupor, frozen in place. The next thing you knew, the girls lips were on his. You didn't stay to see what happened next. You raced down the stairs. This caught Diluc's attention. The sight of you racing towards him looking as though you had seen a ghost. He didn't hesitate for even a second when you begged him to take you home, claiming that you couldn't bear to be alone right then. Tossing the tavern's keys to Charles, who caught them effortlessly and took over as if this was nothing new to him.
Diluc held you by your waist protectively as you both walked quickly out of Angel's Share and towards your home. He didn't speak, feeling it wasn't the right moment to ask you anything. As soon as you both entered your home and Diluc shut the door, rain began to pelt against the windows and you threw yourself in his arms and sobbed.
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Diluc held you for what seemed like hours as you wet the front of his shirt with your tears, your fingers clutching the fabric as if he were your lifeline. He didn't mind it so much, he just wanted you to feel better and if holding you and letting you cry against him was what you wanted, he would stay like just like this.
You meant something to him, even though it wasn't in a romantic sense, you were deeply important to him. After what seemed like forever, he tilted your head up gently so you would look up at him, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. But just know that I’m here and I’m listening.” You drew in shaky breaths, your body trembling from all the crying, “He was there. With someone else. She… They… They kissed.”
Diluc's expression of concern morphed to anger and he held you close once again as you began to cry once more, but softly this time.
Why was his brother so fucking stupid? Didn't Kaeya know what you felt for him? Couldn't he even tell?
It took a long time for you to calm down, but with Diluc keeping his arms wrapped around you as you listened to him breathe and softly soothe you helped immensely. When you looked up at him again he gave a sad smile, "Will you be alright by yourself tonight?" You wiped your tear-stained cheeks and let out a breath, "I'll be okay... You've done enough for me already...”
He brushed away a strand of your hair that was stuck to your wet cheek, "Are you sure?" You gave a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Promise. Now go home. I've kept you long enough." Diluc huffed at your answer but he wouldn't push you to change your mind.
If you said you would be okay, he would believe you. He gently grasped you shoulders and spoke in earnest, "Don't hesitate to come to the winery if you find you can't be alone later. My doors will be open for you." You smiled slightly at that and thanked him. Diluc pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before turning on his heels and heading out into the pouring rain.
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You change into a nightgown, get a fire started in your little fireplace, and make yourself a cup of hot tea. You hold the warm mug in both of your hands as you watched the steam rise. The rain didn't seem to be letting up any time soon, but that was fine with you. It suits your mood. You take a sip of your tea and let the warmth fill your body as your eyes trail after a raindrop that was rolling down your window.
You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a desperate knock on your door. Your heart clenched tightly when you heard the voice on the other side, "Y/n. It's me. Please, please let me in. Let me talk to you." It was Kaeya. A small part of you held a flicker of hope when you heard it was him, but the other part of you felt even worse. The knocking and desperate pleas to be let in continued as you weighed whether you should open the door and hear what he had to say.
A crack of thunder reminded you that it was pouring outside and Kaeya must be absolutely soaked. You would feel bad if he got horribly sick, so with a heavy sigh you open the door.
There he was, looking down into your eyes with a gaze full of turmoil, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?" his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache. You frown up at him, but step to the side to let him in without a word. Kaeya steps in and water droplets roll off of him, dripping to your wooden floors.
You set down your mug on the small wooden table that still held the now dried-out cecelias he had given you some time ago, "Let me get you a towel." Before you could turn to do as you said from your bathroom, his large hand grabbed your wrist. Kaeya pulled you back towards him, almost making you stumble, "No, let me speak first You blink up at him, opening your mouth to protest, but you quickly close it and sigh heavily. The fire crackles to your left and you decide to speak, "Let's at least sit in front of the fire. ... don't want you getting sick because of this." Kaeya let go of your wrist and nodded.
You both sit on the intricately designed rug as the fire crackles and casts a warm, orange glow on both of you. You avoid looking at him, staring at the flames instead when you speak softly, "I don't really want to talk to you right now, but you seem to have something to say. The least I can do is listen." Kaeya runs a hand through his damp blue hair, "I'm sorry for avoiding you occasionally." You huff, "No, I get it. You were seeing someone else so-" "What are you even talking about??", Kaeya cuts you off.
You finally turn your head to look at him with an incredulous look, "Seriously, Kaeya? I saw you tonight with that girl. You were kissing." Kaeya groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, "It's not like that." "Then what else could it possibly be?", you snap. "If you're seeing someone then just say so, I'II be fine." His jaw clenches, "Of course you'd be fine, you're with my brother." Your jaw drops at the words,"What are you saying? I'm not with anyone, certainly not Diluc for that matter. We aren't together."
Kaeya scoffs, "Well you sure looked awfully cozy when he wiped away your tears and held you some nights ago at Angel's Share. And you seem to spend an awful lot of time with him these days." "That only happened because I was crying over my aching feelings for you!", you raise your voice and immediately regret letting your words slip so easily. Kaeya stares at you in shock for a moment before speaking softly, "..What?"
Tears threaten to prick the inner corners of your eyes, but you turn to face to fire again, "My feelings don't matter. As I said earlier, you have that girl." Kaeya leans in towards you, "Look at me." His voice was soft, but with a commanding desperation. You finally spare him a glance, tears welling up in your eyes. He puts his palm to your cheek and caresses it, "I'm not with the girl that you saw. I didn't even know who she was.” A tear rolls down your cheek and your voice breaks when you speak, "Then why did you kiss her?"
His thumb swipes away the rolling tear and his forehead presses against yours, "She kissed me and I pushed her away right after she did that. You can ask the others that were up there, I'm being honest here." A few more tears fall and he holds you face with both hands now, forehead still pressed to yours as he speaks in a hushed voice, "You're the only I want. The only one I've been wanting since you came here." Your teary eyes search his eye, looking for any trace of dishonesty but you could find none, only truth. His breath fans against your face as he speaks again, "You're the one who has my heart. No one else. I mean it, truly."
You don't even think, you just act. Your lips press against his, startling him at first but he soon melts into it. His lips move in rhythm with yours. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. Your nightgown getting wet as you pressed against his rain-soaked body.
The kiss becomes more desperate and you find yourself laying flat against the rug with Kaeya caging you in underneath him as the fire crackles and pops beside the two of you. "Tell me you want this just as much as I do", his voice came out almost shaky between heavy breaths. Your soft hand caresses his cheek and down to the back of his neck as you pulled him down to you, "More than anything, I need you."
That was all it took for him to hastily unbutton his shirt and and shrug it off his body, his pants came off just as swiftly. You lay there in awe of his tanned, muscular body and your eyes trailed down the light blue happy trail that led down to a small tuft of tangled blue and a heavy, throbbing cock with a pink, leaking tip. If you had been just anyone, he would've smirked at your reaction, but right now was not the time for teasing. He made quick work of you nightgown, tossing it unceremoniously behind him. Your breasts moved in time with you heavy breaths and he took in every inch of your body, "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you...” His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.
Kaeya lowered himself down and spread your thighs gently. His breath is hot against your sensitive pussy and makes you long for him even more. His uncovered eye flits up to your face and just as quickly as he look up at you, his tongue began to flick against your clit. You draw in a sharp breath as your back arches off the rug in time with a sporadic pop from the fireplace. He groans with need when his tongue licks through your folds and laps at the taste of you.
Your legs begin to shake from the intensity of it all and you tangle your fingers in his still slightly damp hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your grind your pussy against his tongue as he pushes you over the edge into white-hot bliss. You cry out his name when his tongue gives one more flick to your now overly sensitive clit. When he moves up towards your blissful face, you can see your own juices glistening against his lips. You don't even care that you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue when Kaeya kisses you with a deep passion.
His aching cock rubs against your wet pussy as his tongue dances with yours. Kaeya pulls back just enough that your lips still graze against each other as he speaks, "Please.." That's all he says with a breathless voice as his eye gazes into yours with so much love and desperation. You nod once and it was all it took for him to be lined up with your entrance and pushing in slowly. His eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a broken moan as he pushes his length into your warm, wet walls.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him against your body tightly as you release breathy moans. Once fully sheathed, Kaeya stills inside of you, letting you adjust to his thickness and length that were foreign to you. He presses a soft kiss to your neck as he pulls out slightly then slams back into you, making you dig your nails into his shoulders. He hisses at the feeling but doesn't stop his movement, "Fuck, you feel so good. Tell me you're mine. Please, angel, tell me you're mine." His voice was so desperate as he spoke between deep thrusts and whining groans. "I'm yours, Kaeya. Always was yours. Forever yours", you cry out as tears spill from your eyes yet again but for an entirely different reason.
Your heart feels like it is overflowing with emotion that you can't even begin to put into words. Kaeya's lips meet yours feverishly as he thrusts relentlessly into you. His cock hitting the deepest parts of you and you wrap your legs around his waist. "Gonna cum, angel", he breathes against your lips and soon your name becomes like a prayer falling repeatedly from his lips. Barely a moment later, Kaeya moans loudly and his cock throbs and twitches erratically as hot, white ropes of cum fill you. Your pussy contracts tightly around his in response as you hold him even tighter and cry out in time with the booming thunder outside your home.
Kaeya relaxes on top of you, his chest heaving and sweat glistening in the glow of the dying fire. He rolls off of you but turns towards you. You turn your head to take in his features and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "So this is what love feels like, huh?"
Your heart flutters in your chest and you turn your body fully towards him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close against him. You press your face against his chest and he kisses the top of your head. You finally speak, your voice soft, "You must be right."
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a/n: i went through all the stages of grief while writing this🥲
45 notes · View notes
writingforstraykids · 7 months
Text
Be nice
Pairing: Minchan
Word Count: 2983
Summary: Sometimes, Chan helping him out isn't what Minho wants, and this time, they get into a fight. Later that day they talk but it never stays at that with them...
Warnings/Tags: angst, minor fight, fluff, lots of kisses, teasing, smut, top!chan, bottom!minho
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Minho stares at the ceiling, wondering if Chan would join him at some point tonight. The lights of passing cars illuminate the room, and the continuous sound of raindrops hitting the bedroom window calms him slowly. He hates getting into fights, especially with Chan. His boyfriend was a sweetheart, but when he got mad, everyone else felt like hiding and let him deal with it. Which was exactly what had happened today. 
Six hours earlier 
Minho scrolled through his phone as his stylist made the last adjustments to today's outfit. They'd be giving an interview soon, and he was a little nervous since it would be in English once again. Understanding wasn't the problem, but the time his brain needed to process the information and grasp some words together for an answer was simply too long. He hated it, wishing he could participate more, and Chan knew how upset he could get because of it. Nevertheless, he had repeatedly told him that he'd take over the Japanese, becoming more fluent than the rest. One of their staff members came up to him, and Minho greeted him politely. 
"The company feels like you're going to be left behind with all those English interviews coming up." 
"Sorry?" Minho asked, confused. "I'm here, aren't I?" 
"Yes, but a lot of this promotion is focused on English, so we need you to open up more," he told him. 
"What's going on?" Chan asked, strolling over as he saw the utter confusion on Minho's face. The staff member repeated himself for Chan, who frowned. "Why? You're not pressuring any of the others who struggle with that either." 
"Well, they try, at least. Everyone knows they won't get any new bits of information from him, though," he told them, and Chan glanced at Minho, whose face fell. "We need you to try at least." 
Minho was hurt by that because everyone knew how much he struggled with it. Nevertheless, this was his job, and he knew he had to put in some work to excel. "Okay," he nodded quietly. 
Chan placed his hand on his lower back and shook his head. "There's no need to pressure him like that. You all know I always try to include him."
"You may be the leader, but you're not the babysitter," he told him, and Minho closed his eyes in defeat, knowing Chan would be pissed now. 
"It's okay, I'll try harder. I'm sorry," he said, and Chan opened his mouth to protest. "Just let it be, please," Minho said before stepping away from them and sitting down on the sofa next to Felix. 
"What's going on?" Felix asked gently, but Minho didn't get to answer as Chan came over. 
"Why don't you stand up for yourself?" he asked, and Minho stared at him blankly. 
"You're serious right now? You do know your position as the leader is a little more secure than mine, right?" he asked defensively. 
"They're not gonna kick you out just because you tell them to fuck off once in a while," he said. 
"I got kicked before, didn't I?" he gave back and grabbed his phone. "Just stop, they're right you're not my babysitter, Chan, I can handle it." 
Chan huffed. "You're right. I'm your boyfriend, and I'm there when you're in trouble." 
Minho contorted his face. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you didn't waltz in and take over once again." 
"Now it's my fault they're telling you that stuff?" Chan asked, offended. 
"Chan. That's not what I said, and you know it," Minho sighed before pushing himself up. "Stop, okay? It's embarrassing." 
Chan stared after him as Minho left their room and closed the door a little too loudly. He took a deep breath before following him outside. Minho was leaning against the opposite wall, nervously fidgeting with his hands. "Min, come on," he said softly. 
Minho closed his eyes in defeat and shook his head. "I mean it; you're not making things easier. I know I'm shit at it, but you defending me for being shit at it makes it even more obvious."
"I was trying to help, okay? That's all," Chan said. 
"I don't want your help, okay?" Minho told him. "I love you, Channie, but I have to figure out some things on my own. Stop hovering." 
Chan looked at him for a long moment before going back inside. Minho sighed, knowing he was beyond pissed now. 
This time, Chan didn't mention him once or ask any questions to include him. He kept his distance during the game they played, and once they were done, Chan packed up his stuff. "We're going home," he told him firmly, and Minho blinked at him surprised. 
"I thought we were getting dinner with the -," he asked, but Chan's firm look made him stop. "I suppose not, then," he said, grabbing his bag. 
The others watched them nervously as Chan opened the door and let Minho out first, who waved at them with a halfhearted smile. As soon as the door closed, Minho turned toward him. "You're an asshole." 
"Excuse me?" Chan asked firmly, gently pushing him in the right direction, and kept walking next to him. 
"Why would you spoil our group dinner just because you're pissed at me? They were looking forward to it all week. I was looking forward to it." he said. 
"You're a grownup, you can still go," he shrugged, and Minho stopped walking. 
"You know what? Maybe that's a good idea," he told him. "Because you're being ridiculous right now, and I'd rather enjoy my evening instead of hiding until you calmed down." 
"Great, fuck off then," Chan said, not noticing the tears shimmering in Minho's eyes. Minho didn't answer and dropped his bag to his feet before turning on the spot and returning inside. Chan rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag before leaving. “Fucks sake,” he cursed.
Jisung watched him worriedly as he stepped inside. "You're okay?" 
"Not really, but that's between me and Chan," Minho told him, accepting the hug he offered. If there was one thing that he cared about, it was not pulling the others into their disagreements. Their relationship shouldn't weigh heavy on the group mentality. 
Two hours earlier 
Minho came back later that night, waving Changbin goodbye, who had driven him home. He sighed softly as he pulled the door close behind himself and slowly walked into the living room, spotting Chan on the sofa. "Hi," he said quietly. 
"Hey," he said, not looking up. 
"You should've come, it was fun," Minho told him gently, trying to make peace. 
"It wouldn't have been with me hovering," Chan said sourly. 
Minho nodded more to himself. "Okay," he whispered, putting his keys on the kitchen table. "How long?" 
"What?" Chan asked, irritated. 
"How long do you need until you can look at me again and talk to me without being pissed off?" he asked calmly. It wasn't meant as an insult or tease but to check his boundaries. 
Chan put his phone down and stared at him, a little startled. "What?" 
Minho closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself to stay calm. There was no use in exploding and triggering Chan's response even more. "Listen, love," he says very gently. "I had an amazing evening, and I don't intend to ruin my mood with another unnecessary fight. I missed you there, okay?" 
"Why? I thought you don't want a babysitter?" Chan said before he could think it through. 
Hurt filled Minho's eyes as he grabbed his keys from the table. "Now you're just being mean," he told him, clearly disappointed, and made his way upstairs. 
Chan groaned at himself and leaned back into the sofa, rubbing his face. 
Now
Chan still sits on the sofa, unsure if Minho would like him to join him tonight. By now, Chan knows Minho has every right to be disappointed, and deep down, he knows he didn't mean any harm telling him to back off a little. He is still hungry and craving that amazing noodle dish, Minho made them a few days ago. But now is hardly the time to ask him for it, having no idea how he made it. 
He looks up as Minho slowly comes down the stairs, his breath hitching when he sees him. Minho is wearing nothing but boxers and a shirt he lent him, his hair framing his face beautifully. Chan is once more reminded of how effortlessly beautiful Minho is at all times. Minho's eyes meet his, and the world seems to stand still for a moment. "Min, I'm sorry," Chan says softly. 
Minho walks past him into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. Chan gets up, hesitantly making his way over and leaning against the kitchen island opposite him. Minho puts down the glass and searches his eyes. "You had dinner yet?" he asks. 
"No," Chan shakes his head. 
Minho sighs softly and opens his arms for him. Chan doesn’t hesitate and practically throws himself into his arms, hugging him tight. Minho gently runs his hand through his hair and plants a soft kiss on his head. "I know you meant well, Channie love. It's just…" 
"I don't make it easier, I know," he nods. "I just hate seeing them treat you like that." 
Minho places his fingers beneath his chin, lifting his face. "I have you, at the end of the day, I don't care what they say," he says, rubbing his thumb across Chan's lower lip. "We both know they're right, I have to try sometimes." 
Chan smiles softly and sinks deep into his eyes. "Did I ever tell you how adorable you are when you try though?" 
Minho's eyes brighten up, his smile growing shy. "Not since we recorded Drive." 
Chan smirks, cupping his face. "Mhm, the day of our first kiss. You were too adorable to resist." 
"So that's why you finally confessed your feelings," he teases lovingly. "I don't think I ever saw you that shy again." 
Chan mindlessly brushes back his hair, caressing his cheeks. "I was scared to ruin our friendship." 
"Technically, you did," Minho grins and searches his eyes. "We're way more than that now, aren't we?" he asks and turns, kissing the palm of his hand. 
"There's just one thing that bothers me," he tells him, and Minho frowns softly. "Your last name." 
"What?" Minho blinks at him. "Go blame my parents, thank you very much," he protests, gently shoving his chest. 
Chan grins before taking his hand and mindlessly fondling his ring finger. "I intend to change it one day," he says, and Minho's eyes widen, realizing what he is on about. "When all this is over, I'll officially make you mine." 
Minho chuckles softly and rolls his eyes at him. "You're so cheesy," he giggles. 
Chan smirks and pulls something from his pocket. "Until then, I want you to hold on to this for me," he says, sliding a subtle silver ring up his finger. 
"Channie," Minho breathes out, stunned. 
"Happy birthday, Minho baby," he says sweetly after checking the time. It’s only a few minutes after midnight. 
Minho's heart is about to burst, and he pulls him in, kissing him hard on the mouth. Chan's lips crash onto his, a soft moan leaving his lips that shoots straight to Minho's stomach. He sinks his hand into his hair and presses himself close. "Love, I need you. Right now," he whispers against his lips, and Chan takes the hint. He lifts him up, chuckling as Minho wraps his legs around him. Minho kisses him heavily as Chan maneuvers his way through the living room and up the stairs. He doesn’t even bother turning on the lights and sits down at the edge of their bed. Minho straddles his lap, hands cupping his face as he kisses him passionately. Chan sinks his hand into his hair, pulling him back as his lips travel down his neck. Minho moans sweetly at the sensation and presses him closer to his skin. "Chan, sweetie," he pants, and Chan hums questioningly against his neck, sinking his teeth into his skin. "Lube. Now." 
Chan chuckles at his impatience but reaches for the table next to the bed, grabbing the lube from the drawer. Minho takes it and slips from his lap, chest heaving softly from their heavy kisses. 
Minho leans down and captures his lips in another short, soft kiss. "Take it all off," he whispers before grabbing the hem of his own shirt. 
Chan doesn’t need a second invitation and pulls Minho back down on his lap as soon as their clothes are gone. He hungrily kisses him before getting up and lowering him back on the mattress. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he tells him quietly, and Minho smiles sweetly beneath him. 
"Please don't make me wait," Minho answers just as quietly, reaching out for him. 
Chan flicks the bottle open and pours some lube on his fingers. He spreads Minho's legs, and his hand disappears between them. Chan watches his face in awe as he starts to open him up. Minho pulls him into an open-mouthed kiss, arching into him as Chan adds another finger. As soon as Minho tells him he's ready, Chan grabs a condom and prepares himself quickly. He pushes in with slow, careful movements and can’t help but groan when he is fully buried inside him. "Fuck." 
Minho beams up at him, softly burying his fingers in his hair and pants at the pleasant stretch. He takes a moment to adjust before nodding. "Okay," he whispers, and Chan starts moving. He watches him full of adoration, brushing back a curl that's already sticking to his forehead, and places his hand on his neck, thumb fondling his cheek. Minho presses their foreheads together as Chan thrusts in deep, both moaning at the feeling. "Feels so good, Channie hyung," Minho tells him, and Chan growls softly at the honorifics. 
Chan's bracing himself on his lower arms, gently playing with Minho's hair. He leans into Minho's touch as the younger one caresses his cheek, and their lips brush together, moans and soft sounds of pleasure echoing between them. Minho's head falls back, toes curling as Chan manages to hit his prostate. His hand shoots up, nails burying themselves in Chan's shoulder. A punched-out sound leaves his lips as Chan buries his nose in his neck simultaneously, gently licking the spot he previously sunk his teeth into. "I got you," Chan rasps against his skin and hits his sweet spot again. Chan watches Minho’s face flood with pleasure, lips falling open with soft whimpers and moans. Moonlight dances across his dark hair, highlighting every significant feature of his face.
Minho chases his lips, moaning into the kiss loudly, and wraps his legs around Chan’s waist. “Don’t stop,” he pants, gripping his hair tightly. “So close…”
Chan kisses a trail down his jaw, keeping the same pace as Minho’s hips start to stutter beneath him. He reaches down between their bodies, wrapping his hand around his dick and pumping him fast. “Come for me, baby. Make a mess,” he rasps into his ear, and Minho does, whimpering his name as he paints their chests. Chan picks up the pace of his thrusts, knowing Minho only likes to be overstimulated when he’s in the mood for it.
Minho smiles at him lazily as Chan falls apart above him, lovingly fondling his hair as the older one collapses onto him. They lay still for a moment, both catching their breaths before Minho speaks up again. “We could’ve done that earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have been sulking all day then..”
Chan giggles and weakly punches his arm. “Fuck you.”
“I thought you did already,” he teases, kissing his hair. “I’m joking.”
“I know,” Chan snorts before pushing himself up. “We need a shower.”
“You still need dinner as well,” Minho reminds him.
“Yeah, about that,” Chan starts, and Minho snorts softly. 
“You’re addicted to that dish already, aren’t you?” he asks, and Chan blushes. “You always are when I try something new,” he giggles. 
“You know me too well,” Chan laughs. 
“Of course I do,” he smiles smugly. “And, of course, I’ll make it for a very late dinner,” he tells him and gently pats his back. “Now get off me, you big baby, before I get too lazy to move and decide differently,” he says, laughing as Chan does so immediately. 
After their shower, in the dim light of their bathroom, Minho sees the scratch marks he left on Chan’s back and contorts his face softly. He gently brushes his fingertips over them and meets Chan’s eyes through the mirror. “I’m sorry.”
Chan smirks before turning and wrapping his arms around him. “One of the reasons I call you kitten, it’s fine,” he assures him, and Minho fondly rolls his eyes at him. “Also, I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but I can help you out with the English stuff at any time.”
Minho stares at him, amused for a moment, before squinting his eyes at him. “You know why that’s not a good idea?”
“Why?” he asks, clearly confused. 
“You’d have another excuse to fuck me stupid and blame it on me speaking English,” he smirks, and Chan’s jaw drops. 
“How is that bad?” he asks, playfully offended. 
“How is that helping with learning? I’d be distracted the whole time, and we’d get nothing done,” he protests. 
“It would work like a reward system, which is quite effective, by the way,” Chan smirks. 
“Oh wow, he’s speaking English, but somehow he can’t walk straight anymore. I wonder why,” Minho thinks out loud, and Chan starts laughing.
“Shut up, I was being nice,” he giggles. 
“I’m just being realistic,” he grins. 
“Buzzkill,” Chan snorts.
“Be nice, it’s my birthday,” Minho pouts playfully, squirming away and laughing as Chan tickles him.
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sydsaint · 4 months
Text
I might be kind of obsessed with him lately.
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Summary: The reader and her tag partner Tiffany Straton have a difference of opinion when it comes to newbie Lexis King.
"I still can't believe that Fallon made you much out those nasty horse stalls." You snicker at Tiffany as the two of you make your way across the parking lot. "I swear I can still smell it on you." You crinkle your nose jokingly. 
"Ew! YN, don't even joke like that!" Tiffany whines. "I showered like five times after I was done!" She insists. "Fallon is seriously crazy. She said that she actually enjoyed doing manual labor." She whispers the words like they're a slur. 
Your nose crinkles for real this time and you sneer. "Ew, as if!" 
"Right?" Tiffany agrees. "Girls like us are to pretty to work." She flips her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder. 
"You know it." You giggle and twirl your hair between your fingers with a grin. 
You and Tiffany head inside the building and waste no time going to your shared locker room. The two of you are passing through the main backstage area when Lexis King appears in front of you. 
"Ladies." Lexis grins at you both, an air of self-entitlement about him. 
"Lexis." Tiffany turns her nose up at King. 
You roll your eyes playfully at Tiffany's immediate dismissal of King. "Hey, Lexis." You offer him a flirty smile. 
King immediately turns his attention to you since Tiffany obviously isn't going to give him the time of day. "YN! Where are you ladies headed off to?" He asks you. 
"Back to the locker rooms to get ready for the show." You answer him, twirling a strand of hair in your hand. "Tiff and I have a tag match against those losers Lola Vice and Elektra Lopez." You explain. 
"Well you definitely look ready to me." Lexis chuckles, showing no shame in raking his eyes over your body. 
You roll your eyes at the cheap line he's throwing at you. "Smooth, Romeo." You laugh. 
"Ugh! Come on, YN!" Tiffany scoffs and grabs ahold of your hand to drag you off. "You just seriously bombed buddy." She informs Lexis matter-of-factly. "So we'll be going." 
"See you later, YN." Lexis nods and steps back to let you and Tiffany pass. "Be seeing you around babe." He winks as Tiffany drags you off. 
Tiffany lets her death grip on your arm free only when you are safely in the locker room. She lets your arm go and you rub the red spot from where she was dragging you by. 
"That was kind of harsh, don't you think, Tiff?" You ask Tiffany, watching as she makes a b-line for her vanity against the wall. 
"Umm, no." Tiffany replies dryly. "That guy is a loser, YN. Come on." She insists. 
You roll your eyes playfully and walk over to the other vanity so you can fix your hair and makeup for the show. "I like him." You admit and pick up your hairbrush. "He's cute! And his hair? I love a man that takes care of his hair." 
"Ew, YN." Tiffany sneers. "You can do so much better, girl." She assures you. "I thought you had a thing for Carmelo? Or was it Trick?" She asks you. 
"It was Carmelo." You answer her. "But Trick is super hot too. He just started dating Lash though. And I'm pretty sure Melo has a new girl now." You explain. 
Tiffany grabs her curler off the vanity and shrugs. "So? If they just started dating then what's the harm. They can't be that serious yet." She grins. 
"Tiffany!" You laugh. "Say what you want, girl. But I don't go after dudes in relationships. Not my style." You remind her. 
"Suit yourself, girl." Tiffany shrugs. "You know, Bron and Cora broke up last month." She flashes a teasing smile at you. "And I know you think Bron is super hunky." 
You pick up your makeup bag and open it up to retrieve your foundation and concealer. "And you don't?" You ask Tiffany. "And you I don't have taste." You joke. "Besides. Bron has never shown any interest in me. I guess all those muscles can't make up for poor taste and no brains huh?"
Tiffany snickers and agrees with you. The two of you finish getting your hair and makeup ready for the show then switch to changing into your ring gear. You tie up your boots while Tiffany admires her reflection in the mirror. 
"I think I want a set of green gear next." You comment casually. 
"Green?" Tiffany sneers. "Ew." 
You roll your eyes and walk over to the door. "I like green." You remind her. "Come on. Let's head down to the ring and get this match over with already." 
Tiffany stops admiring herself in the mirror and the two of you head out and down to the ring. You do your Buff Barbie's entrance, aka the name of your tag team with Tiffany. And then hop in the ring with her to wait for your opponents. 
Lola and Elektra come out and the match gets underway. You and Tiffany work together and you pull Lola up for a pin at the end of the match. The bell rings and you celebrate with Tiffany before the two of you head up the ramp and backstage again. 
"Whew! That was easy." You gloat on your way up the ramp. "Did you see the look on Lola's face when I rolled her up? Priceless!" You laugh. 
"I know!" Tiffany laughs with you. "Her and Elektra are such losers." She snickers. 
You and Tiffany step through the curtain into the backstage are and you spot Lexis hanging around on the other side of the room. Tiffany audibly groans at your side when you eye King up. 
"YN, don't even." Tiffany complains. 
"I'll meet you back at the locker room, Tiff." You pat her arm with a grin before you walk off. "Lexis! You stalking me now?" You tease King as you walk over to him. 
Lexis chuckles at your little quip and stops leaning against the wall. "Stalking you, princess? Please. I know better." He insists. "I've got a match against that new Chase University twink in a few minutes." 
"Riley Osborne?" You reply. "Thea's new obsession?" You snicker. "He's a loser just like her and the rest of Chase U. Should be an easy win for you." 
"Oh it'll be a breeze, princess. Trust me." Lexis nods. "You should hang out and watch the match. I guarantee it'll be entertaining. For you  anyway." He offers. 
You turn and look back at Tiffany, but she's already gone back to the locker room. So you turn back to Lexis with a grin and nod. "Alright. Let's see what you've got, King." 
Lexis grins and heads out to the ring for his match. You hang around backstage and watch his match as promised. Lexis parades around and shows off his entire match with poor Riley. He pulls a win against Osborne then heads backstage again to greet you. 
"Well? What did you think?" Lexis saunters over to you once he's through the curtain. 
"You were alright I guess." You shrug with a cheeky grin. 
Lexis laughs, perfectly aware that you're teasing him. "Nah, you were impressed." He insists. "I can tell by the way you're looking at me." 
"Oh?" You reply. "Alright, you might of impressed me a little. Just a little though." You insist.
"How about we meet up after the show? I'd love to buy you a drink." Lexis offers. 
You bounce on your heels and think about how much Tiffany is going to complain if she finds out you're about to get drinks with this guy. "As long as you're paying." You finally answer him after a minute. "I'll meet up with you in the parking lot after the show." 
"I'm looking forward to it, princess." Lexis nods and walks off. 
You watch Lexis walk off before you also head back to the locker room. You know that Tiffany is going to be on you about Lexis when you get back. So you brace yourself for that. But it'll all be worth it when you're out getting free drinks with your new beau. 
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