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unwantedtomost · 3 years

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the night before — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 2,644 words

summary: you were invited to your ex’s wedding and despite all logical reasoning, you decided to go. now it’s the night before the wedding and you’re in the same night club with your ex. time to make some more mistakes.

warnings: angst, crying, cheating, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex.

a/n: i am going to make a part two because i want to explore this more. also, thank you so much for almost 500 notes on my first one shot! enjoy :)

The love of your life was getting married and it wasn’t to you. When you heard the news, you laughed out loud, a bit too loud for being in a quaint cafe. You thought that the girl Sebastian was dating was going to be nothing more than a rebound from you, even when you heard the news that they were engaged, you thought that it wasn’t serious. But now it’s the day before their wedding and you’re pretty sure she’s not a rebound anymore.

You wish you didn’t know what day the wedding was, but you did because you were invited. Sebastian invited you. What kind of asshole would do something like that? You know he saw it as taking the high road, being a bigger person, but it just came off as a pretentious douche bag move to show that he could be happy too. Without you. And how did this get past his fiance, Lauren? Did she want you to come?

You planned on not attending because why the fuck would you want to go? But then your friend, Emerson, talked you into it. “It’s in Hawaii,” “It’ll show him that you can still be friends,” “Rub it in their faces that you don’t care anymore.” They were all very shitty reasonings but you were drunk when you RSVP’d and even drunker when you booked the plane ticket. You had been drinking a lot in the weeks leading up to the wedding, it was the only thing that made all the nerves go away. You promised yourself that you would stop drinking so much after they were married and you intended on keeping that promise.

You had been trying your best to stay as far away from Sebastian as possible in the three-day period leading up to the wedding. It had been working well so far, until tonight. You and Emerson decided to go to a nightclub away from the resort you were staying at because you heard that that’s where the bachelor party was being held. Much to your surprise, that was false information. Now you’re starring at Sebastian from across the room with eyes wide and a jaw down to the floor.

“I thought you said they were gonna be at the resort!” You yelled at Emerson over the loud music.

“That’s what the bridesmaids told me,” she defended. “But it doesn’t even matter, we came out to have a good night. Fuck him! You can be nice tomorrow.”

You quickly started to regret every single one of your decisions you had made in the past three months. Accepting the invitation, booking the plane ticket, and leaving your hotel room tonight. You knew you shouldn’t be here but you were and you hated it.

“This was a mistake. I’m booking a plane ticket and I’m going back home. Tonight.”

“What?! You can’t do that.”

“The hell I can’t.” You grabbed your phone from your purse only to get it grabbed from your hand and shoved into Emerson’s pocket. “What the hell!”

“You’re not just going to leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been two years, y/n. You have been telling me that you’re finally over him for a year, that’s why we’re even here, right? Because you’re over him?”

You took in a shaky breath. No, you weren’t over him. You knew you should be, but you weren’t. You thought seeing him say “I do” would force you into moving on, finally letting him go. Now, you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid.

“Yes,” you lie despite yourself.

“Good, so let’s go get you a drink and a hot piece of ass! And in the morning we’re going to watch as he gets married and you’re going to finally let go of him, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod.

You had to get over him, it had been two years. This was the way to do it. You would force yourself to let him go and be happy. That would make you happy … right?

You and Emerson walked to the bar, ordering shot after shot until you were dizzy. Then you ordered a long island ice tea which you did not need. After you basically chugged the drink, you made your way to the dance floor.

You changed from grinding on Emerson to random individuals and you couldn’t have cared less. Everything about tomorrow and moving on left your mind completely. Right now you were living in the moment, something you were always working to do. You could tell that the individual dancing behind you hadn’t switched for four songs, so you decided to turn around. You were hoping for it to be someone cute and nice. Someone to take you somewhere and fuck the worries away. Instead, it was Sebastian.

Your smile faded and so did his. You went still, your eyes trained on his. It felt weird to be the only people in the crowd not moving. You had lost all sense of anything, you didn’t know if you stood like that for seconds or for hours.

Something in your jumbled thoughts forced you to speak. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he yelled back. His face was unreadable at that moment, you blamed it on the alcohol but you weren’t sure if you could have deciphered what it meant even if you were sober. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, a few months, I think.” You were sure, it had been four months prior, right before you heard about the engagement. You ran into each other at a red carpet event and you tried your best to act normal.

“Do you … uh—do you want to go get a drink?”

You stood still again, silent. Your brain needed a minute to process the request. You definitely did not need another drink. “Sure.”

You followed behind Sebastian to the bar, a trip you had made with Emerson no less than an hour ago. He ordered himself a Screwdriver and you a Sex on the Beach, your favorite. You had both sucked down half of your drinks before either of you spoke.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Fine, I guess,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, good, really good.”

“That’s good.”

It went quiet again and even though the music all around you was blaring, it sounded only like white noise at this point. A thought came into your mind “tell him how you feel.” In a sober state, you would have shut down the thought immediately, but now it played on a loop. The chant continued to play in your head as you finished the last of your drink. You felt the tension in your body rise from your feet to the pit of your stomach, up past your throat, and to your head, making you dizzy.

“Can I tell you something?” You blurted out.

“Sure.”

“It’s loud in here.”

Sebastian chuckled, almost in relief. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” you said, too unaware to get how cringe-worthy you were being. “Can we go somewhere, uh, quieter?”

He nodded and you took his hand and went to go find a secluded location. You weren’t going to be that asshole who jammed the bathroom door shut. Also, you were pretty sure you’d get kicked out if you did that. It took a few minutes but you finally landed your sights on a room. The door was unlocked and you realized it was a coat closet, so you picked it as your location. You closed the door before turning back to Sebastian.

The music was quieter in here, it was muffled and far away. It smelled vaguely of cigarettes but you didn’t mind too much, it was dull.

“What did you want to tell me?” Sebastian asked, voice louder than it needed to be due to how unexpectedly quiet it was.

This was it, your one time to speak your mind. You might never get another situation like this ever again. You needed to let it all out.

“I don’t think I’m over you,” you confess. “And I really don’t know if I will ever be. I know it’s been two years and you’re getting married tomorrow, but I’m still not over you. I’ve been telling myself that when I see you at that alter tomorrow, everything is magically going to go away, but I don’t know if it will.”

“Why are you telling me this, y/n?”

“Because this is the one-shot I’m gonna get. You’re getting married tomorrow morning and you need to know this. Well, actually, you probably don’t, but I need to tell you. I need to let it out or otherwise, I think I might actually fucking explode.” You took a deep breath before the words started pouring out again. “When I heard you were engaged I laughed. It was funny that you were getting this poor girl’s hopes up when we all knew that you were just going to call it off. But you never did, and I was the only one laughing. I’m pretty sure that you were my person. And I think the only reason I accepted that we were done was because I didn’t think we were actually done. I thought you were gonna come back to me. I thought one day we would look back on this and laugh because it was so stupid.”

As you talked, your throat began to feel sore, your eyes stung from the tears forcing their way down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry about everything. I should have fought for us when we had the chance and I should give up right now and—”

Sebastian cut you off by cupping your face and wiping the tears away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed softly, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest as he softly rubbed the back of your head. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

His sweet tone made you cry harder. You wished he would have been mean. You wish he told you to get over it and move on. But he was sweet and consoling you because that’s the type of guy he was. He was the girl who consoled his ex-girlfriend on the night before his wedding. That’s the kind of guy girls want to marry, that’s the kind of guy you should have married. At least if he was an asshole, it would have easier to move on. No one gets hung up on the asshole, they get hung up over the good guy.

You pulled away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/n…” he sighed.

“Tell me you don’t. God, please tell me you don’t. Tell me that you moved on and that you love her. Could you tell me that? Tell me that you never think twice about me and that you only invited me to your wedding because you honestly think we can be just friends. I need you to tell me you still don’t care. If you tell me that, I’ll walk out the door right now and you don’t ever have to see me again. I’ll wish you good luck on your marriage and I’ll be gone. Can you just tell me that? I really need you to tell me that.”

You looked up to him with pleading, puppy dog eyes. You wanted him—you needed him to tell you that it was never going to happen. You needed closure to move on.

“I-I can’t,” he confessed. “Not honestly.”

You let out a breath you were holding before pulling him closer. You kissed him deeply and passionately, you needed him. He pulled you closer, melting into your mouth. This was it, this felt right. You didn’t think about the repercussions, you couldn’t. All you could think about was his mouth on yours, his hands on your skin.

He backed you up so your back was flat against the door. The hand that wasn’t pulling you closer by the hip locked the door. He hoisted you up, seemingly with no effort as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You made haste with his button-up as he started to push your dress up your thighs. You stayed like that for a while, tugging, kissing.

After a while, Sebastian put you down. This made you nervous, was he going to leave you here? Was the kiss just one dumb, hot mistake?

Instead of walking away, he knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs. You looked down at him and let out a moan at the sight of him; lips read and raw from kissing, eyes blown out with lust. He hiked your right leg over his shoulder before looking up at you, asking you if you wanted him to continue. You nodded aggressively, letting out a few whines of anticipation.

He dived in, sending you into a state of euphoria. You pressed your head against the door as your hands tugged at his jet black hair. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your best to keep in whatever moans he coaxed out of you. You felt you were nearing your high, but he pulled away before you could get there.

You let out a cry at the loss of contact. You tryed your best to pull him back to you, but he instead pushed your hands away, pinning your wrists against the door. He stood back up, form towering over your own.

“You’re so fuckin’ needy,” Sebastian stated, voice low and raspy. He undid his pants before hosting you up against the door again. He pumped his member before putting the tip at your entrance, teasing you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Please, fuckin’ need you.”

With that, he pushed in, both of you letting out loud wanton moans. You forgot what is was like to be with him. He was on the bigger end of the men you’d been with and he was by far the best. As he thrusted into you, you started to realize how much you missed him every sense of the word. You missed the way he would kiss you in the morning, you missed the way he said he loved you in the middle of a fight, and you missed the way he grunted in your ear when you would have sex.

You both held each other close as he continued to snap his hips against yours. One of his hands reached down to rub your clit, making you let out another moan. You knew you were close again and you wondered how you could finish so fast when you were with him.

“I’m so close,” you warned.

“I know baby,” he cooed. “Wanna watch you.”

You leaned your head back so you could now see each others faces. He admired how you looked all fucked out and needy. He loved how your eye brows knitted together when you were trying not to cum and he loved the way you bit your lip every time he stared into your eyes. And he loved you.

“I love you, y/n,” he accidentally said, thoughts slipping into words.

Your eyes went wide but you couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Seb.”

The confession brought you closer to your high and before you knew it, you were clutching his shirt in your hands as your legs cleanched around his waist. You both moaned loudly as you came, holding each other as close as possible. You stayed against the door, holding onto him tightly for a while. Then he slipped out of you and set you back down on shaky legs.

“Did you mean it?” You asked after minutes of staring into his eyes.

He hesitated, “yes.”

“Now what are we gonna do?”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #fanfic #tfatws #oneshot

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floralseokjin · 3 years

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⤑ made-up love song ix.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, angst, soojung and oc’s mother being the best, minor food mention (not feeling hungry when stressed), hope, the tiniest bit of fluff, a cliffhanger of sorts! words; 6,161

Read Seokjin’s chapter ix here

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Soojung found you curled up on the sofa a few hours later when she came home from work. You’d tried watching television, hoping the distraction would be successful but your mind just wouldn’t switch off, replaying the day’s earlier events. You didn’t want to think just yet but that’s all your mind could do. Going around and around in circles. Hearing Soojung’s keys in the door you felt a wave of nausea knowing you’d have to talk about it. Not that you didn’t want to confide in your best friend, it was just explaining everything meant that it was all real…

She stuck her head around the door, sounding momentarily confused. “What are you doing back already? I wasn’t expecting you until la– Y/N?” She caught the look on your face immediately and just like she knew something was up. She rushed over. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Instantly you felt your face crumble, tears blurring your vision. “It’s stupid really,” you insisted, wiping your eyes as she came to join you, a protective arm wrapping around your shoulders. The small action at least made you feel a little better. “I don’t understand why I’m crying.” You hadn’t felt the need to cry until now. Maybe it was because you could always be vulnerable with your best friend. You didn’t need to be strong. She’d seen you at your worst.

“Did…Did you guys argue?” She sounded unsure, confused as to what could be the issue.

You sniffed, composing yourself. “No. Not really,” you let out a groan, “oh, god, Soo. It was awful. Seokjin’s ex-wife turned up…”

You spent the next fifteen minutes telling her what happened, although a lot of it was a blur of raised voices and insults. One thing you knew for certain though, was that you’d never felt so awkward in your entire life. You’d watched your boyfriend arguing with his ex-wife feeling so incredibly out of the loop it was embarrassing.

You’d never demanded to know every single detail about his marriage – you hadn’t even wanted to know. It wasn’t your business after all, nor did you want Seokjin to relive things he didn’t want to, or dwell on the past. You understood that more than anyone, what with your relationship with Donghae, but he’d openly revealed a lot to you. He’d confided in you, shared some hurtful details of his divorce and in turn you had entrusted him with your own past, your own bad memories…

There had been many surprises this afternoon, but one certain revelation kept replaying in your head. It was all you could think about. To learn he’d left out something as major as getting cheated on… Having to find out like that… You were still reeling from the bombshell. Why hadn’t he told you? You’d both been through the same thing… Didn’t he trust you enough? You didn’t understand and you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling hurt.

“You don’t think he’s still in love with her, do you?” Soojung asked hesitantly.

“No,” you shook your head. Regardless of the mess that were your thoughts right now, you didn’t think that at all. Yes, it was easy to let your doubts take over in the first few moments you’d set eyes on Nana, she was beautiful, although you hadn’t expected anything less, but you knew not to feel paranoid when it came to that. Regardless of today’s shock, you didn’t doubt Seokjin’s feelings for you, and you knew very well he no longer loved his ex-wife.

“I think he’s just very bitter about everything,” you continued. “Mostly about how infrequently she sees Arin.”

“Do you think it’s a problem?”

Shrugging slightly, you didn’t really know what to say. “She’s been seeing her quite often lately. There was last weekend, but it shouldn’t have been that much of an issue.” Seokjin hadn’t been angry over that, or at least he hadn’t let on he was… Maybe he had and had just hid it well. With that thought, you remembered something. “It was just her face… while Seokjin was saying all those things to her. She looked so upset… I’ve never seen him like that.”

It had been jarring seeing him so angry. He was usually soft-spoken and well-mannered. Even when he was irritated he stayed silent. You understood that he was only human, everyone had emotions, and his had bubbled over today, but it was still surprising. You hadn’t been expecting to be in the middle of a shouting match between him and his ex-wife.

“But you knew they didn’t get on?” Soojung gently prodded, rubbing your upper back.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “Just seeing it in person… I can’t believe he didn’t tell her about us.”

Your mind was all over the place, unable to concentrate on one issue for long enough. You really had been living in your own little world this entire time. So incredibly happy and blissfully content. It had been so easy to forget that Nana existed when it came to your relationship with Seokjin. To you, she was just Arin’s mom, who she spoke about sometimes, but not very often, in your presence. It was easy to put her to the back of your mind, it was easy not to think of her at all. Why would you? You didn’t even know what she looked like until today. All the photos you’d seen of a younger Seokjin, of Arin as a baby, had never once included her. You knew who she was, knew her name, but that was all.

So you’d just assumed she knew about you too. You’d assumed Seokjin had told her without needing any confirmation. You’d assumed she’d known that you would be looking after Arin last weekend. You’d assumed she was perfectly fine with it. In reality she had no clue you existed. You were almost certain Seokjin hadn’t done it maliciously, he wasn’t that type of man, but seeing him today, how casually he had brushed off her concerns… As much as it had hurt to be thought of as a stranger, you understood why that was the case. Seokjin hadn’t. As stubborn as always, he refused to see where he had done wrong.

“That is a bit odd,” Soojung agreed. “And even though she was a bitch to you, I guess I’d be pissed too if I found out the way she had.”

You snorted softly. Soojung had been ready to fight when she’d first heard the things Nana had said to you, but she knew you were fine, you could handle yourself. “Ugh, it’s all such a mess,” you groaned. “I would’ve never looked after Arin last weekend if I’d known Nana had no clue.” You should have made sure. Why hadn’t you?

“I guess Seokjin had his reasons,” Soo reasoned. “Maybe he knew how his ex would react.”

“Maybe,” you agreed before sighing. “I don’t know. There’s things he never told me either.” Maybe you were finding out that Seokjin was a very secretive person, who knew… “She cheated on him, Soo.” You were back there again. Soojung hummed in understanding. “Is it silly of me to be upset?”

“No, it’s valid.”

“I told him about Donghae,” you whispered. “I really opened up to him and he was so sweet and understanding. Why didn’t he tell me he’d been through the same thing?” No matter how many times you went through it in your head you couldn’t think of an answer. It didn’t make sense. Especially because he’d opened up to you so easily in regard to everything else. What made this so different?

“Maybe he just didn’t want to make it about him,” Soojung offered.

“I don’t know… Maybe.” You groaned, thinking you were being selfish. He probably had a good reason when he didn’t tell you. There were more pressing issues right now anyway… You knew that, and immediately your head begin to spin again.

“The whole stepmom thing,” you muttered, “it’s left me a little frazzled.”

Soojung kept up with your disorderly thoughts expertly. “In what way?”

You gave a little shrug, voice barely there because you didn’t want to admit it out loud. “It made me question things…”

“I thought you liked where things were heading?” Your best friend couldn’t hide the shock from her voice.

“I do,” you replied, “or at least, I did.” Where were things actually heading? You didn’t know anymore. “I just wasn’t really thinking.”

“Of what it all meant?”

You nodded slowly. “I lost myself for a while.”

In a way, you had been in your own little bubble for these past few months – you, Seokjin and Arin. You’d had the most amazing summer, falling harder and harder for Seokjin and in the process Arin had captured your whole heart. She was such a sweet little girl, humorous and thoughtful, Seokjin and Nana had brought her up well. Your time together had been incomparable, your happiness unmatched, but in the process you’d ignored a few things.

“So what are you saying?” Soojung asked gently.

Your throat felt dry. “I’m afraid it’s all moving too fast.”

It was a lot to take in. You had been together barely four months but here you were thinking about the word stepmom. How scary the word sounded, how scary it felt…

“You want to slow it down?”

“It’s probably too late for that,” you chuckled quietly. You felt your heart squeeze. “Soojung, I think I’m in love with him.”

It felt almost relieving to confess such a thing, despite your heavy heart over today. Your feelings had been harder and harder to ignore these past couple of weeks, but you’d tried your best, not wanting to rush anything. Right now you were confused and hurt, but one thing was blatantly clear. You loved him.

“It’s scary,” you whispered, feeling Soo rub your back again, listening silently. “Falling so fast.” Especially after everything you’d been through with Donghae. You were scared. Despite opening up your heart to Seokjin easily, this was different. Things seemed so complicated now, when not six hours ago they had been nothing more than simple.

“Today was a massive reality check,” you scoffed. “I’ve been spending these past few months playing house with Seokjin and Arin, it was bound to catch up with us sometime.”

“You liked it though,” your best friend encouraged, voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you so happy… Not since… Well, not even then.”

“Everything just felt so… perfect,” you agreed. Everything had slotted into place easily. “And natural, and just, nice.” For lack of a better word. Your brain was pulp.

“Arin obviously felt comfortable enough to call you her stepmom in front of her own mom?” You didn’t even notice Soojung’s change of direction.

“I don’t know, I think she was just confused. You know what kids are like together. She heard her friend talking about it and they probably got excited.”

“Would you like to be her stepmom?”

You paused then, realising what had just happened. She knew you well, knew what was bothering you, conflicting your mind. You gave her a small smile. “She’s a sweet child, but it’s not that simple right now. It’s not only my decision either.”

Truthfully you hadn’t thought about it before today, but now it was one of the things at the forefront of your mind. If everything worked out okay then you and Seokjin would only grow more serious. From strength to strength and what did that mean? However, now you knew that Nana wasn’t exactly your biggest fan… You felt fresh frustration, deflated yet again. Today had gone terrible.

“You’re right,” Soojung agreed, “but it’s something you need to be comfortable with too.”

That was true. These were things you needed to talk about with Seokjin. Then again, maybe you should’ve talked about them before. You had no clue how he felt regarding the topic, well… not explicitly anyway.

“Seokjin comparing the both of us made me feel horrendous.” You found yourself admitting. “I’m not trying to be Arin’s mother. I wasn’t even trying to be her stepmother. Not yet. I haven’t thought about it until now. I just… I loved being a part of her life in my own little way.”

You never wanted to replace Nana. You hated thinking like this, but what if Seokjin had been looking for that the whole time? A new mother for his daughter… You were almost positive that wasn’t the case, but you were so drained right now, your mind was all over the place. You kept replaying in your head what he had shouted at Nana over and over again.

“He can’t expect you to take on that role, not when she already has a mother,” Soojung said carefully. “But you can be there for Arin in other ways – in similar ways. You’ve been teaching and caring for kids for years, so I hope you’re not undermining your capabilities.”

You smiled then, grateful, leaning on her shoulder. “Thank you.” You definitely weren’t doing that but being a teacher and a mother were two totally different things. Especially when it wasn’t your biological child.

“Ugh, I’m just exhausted,” you groaned, laying back against the sofa and shutting your eyes. “My head’s a mess.” You didn’t want to talk about it any longer, switching off sounded really good right now and Soojung understood that perfectly.

She tapped your arm. “I’m going to cancel my plans with Tae.” You opened your eyes, mouth open ready to fight. “He’ll be fine.” She insisted. “Me and you are gonna get takeout and ice cream and just stop thinking. We’re going to pull the One Tree Hill boxset out and pretend we’re still in high school.”

You weren’t going to lie, that did sound like fun. It was also foolproof. You’d been doing it since you were seventeen, when Soojung had got dumped for the first time. “Great idea.”

She leaned in for a hug. “You told him you need space to think, so that’s what you’re going to do. But not tonight. No rush.”

As she pulled back you took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she grinned. “Now, let me grab my phone.”

You woke up early the next morning, like really early, 5am, which wasn’t ideal seeing as you’d struggled to get to sleep the night before. Your mind and heart felt heavy, but you forced yourself to get up and shower because there was no point trying to fall back to sleep for an hour. You had school, and that meant you had to try your best to look presentable for the kids – and happy. A bunch of 6-7 year olds were scarily talented at reading an adult’s mood you’d come to find out.

You didn’t eat much of your breakfast, which wasn’t a surprise because when you were stressed or sad you never felt practically hungry anyway, and left for work long before Soojung even had a chance to wake up, thinking your classroom so early in the morning might give you some sense of clarity. Either that or stop the buzzing of your thoughts that couldn’t seem to keep away. The change of scenery would hopefully do you some good.

You were at your desk trying to organise your planner for the week ahead, 7:04am, when your cell phone began buzzing. You looked across at the device, face up a few inches away from you and felt your stomach squeeze. Filling the screen was a picture of Seokjin and you at an amusement park he’d dragged you to over the summer, like the big kid he was at heart. Seeing his smiley face made your heart hurt. You thought about leaving it ring, you could pretend you were busy and let him leave a message, but no matter how much you wanted to do it, you couldn’t.

The phone felt heavy in your hand as you picked up. Your voice didn’t sound like yours. “Hello.”

“Y/N,” he breathed, sounding somewhat relieved. You had taken a while to make your decision. “Are you free to talk?”

He sounded tired and unlike his usual self, and a part of you wanted to rush over and talk to him in person, to check in on him and see how he was doing, because as much as yesterday hadn’t been nice for you, it hadn’t been too great for him either… However, you knew that was a bad idea, you’d said you had needed time. A few hours wasn’t that.

“Um, yeah,” you replied, opening your mouth again to remind him about what you’d said yesterday, but already he was rushing forward, eager to say his piece.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, I guess… I guess I needed time too.” He sounded hesitant, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had never been expected (nor wanting) a phone call. “Do you want to meet up for lunch?”

Your voice was gentle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea today.” Maybe he’d misunderstood you, you needed longer, besides, things weren’t going to get sorted out in under an hour during your lunch break from work. It wasn’t as simple as that – you wished it was.

There was a pause his side, then – “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“Seokjin, I’m not mad,” you sighed softly. “I’m just…” What were you? Frustrated more than anything. It was hard to explain. In a way you felt sorry for him, but you also felt sorry for Nana. “I have a lot of questions that I don’t think I’m ready to ask just yet.”

His voice was careful as he asked you, “When do you think you will be ready?”

“I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. “I need time to think and it’s pretty hard when I have work all week.” Neglecting your job was foolish – impossible to think of, actually.

“I understand.” Of course he did. He was nothing but understanding when it came to you and your relationship together. That’s the Seokjin you knew and adored… the one you loved…

“Is Arin okay?” You found yourself asking. You knew you should probably say your goodbyes, but you’d woken up feeling terribly guilty that you’d just upped and left her like that yesterday. “I’m sorry I ran off without saying goodbye to her.”

“She’s doing okay, I tried telling…” He trailed off suddenly, and you guessed he thought he was overstepping the mark. The mark you’d put in place. “She asked where you went, I said something came up.”

“Oh.” You’d thought about popping your head around the door and saying goodbye yesterday but just couldn’t do it. You hated to think she’d thought you had left her too. “I really am sorry about that.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Please never be sorry,” he murmured softly.

You smiled sadly at his sentiment. “Are you okay?” You shouldn’t really ask, not when you needed to hang up and take that space you both needed, but you couldn’t help yourself. It felt wrong not to check in.

“Could be better,” he chuckled slightly. You appreciated his honesty. “You?”

“The same.” There was no point pretending. “I think some space will do us good. Let’s just think about everything and then we can talk.”

“Okay,” he agreed simply. There wasn’t much else he could say. If he disagreed in any way you knew he would never tell you. He wanted to respect your wishes.

“I’ll call you towards the end of the week?” You could get through the work week, have some time to yourself in the evenings and then meet up on Saturday.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I agree.” Yet, he sounded a little dejected.

“Okay.” You had to leave it at that. “I gotta go,” you told him, even though you were in no rush to leave for work, already in your classroom.

“Of course, bye, Y/N.” You heard some background noise and then a familiar voice in the background – Misook. As it was for you, life went on. Arin had to get ready for school, he had to get ready for work… You couldn’t both wallow in self-pity all day. “Take care,” he told you. It sounded awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Bye, Seokjin.” You felt just the same. Even right at the beginning your phone conversations had never been this wooden.

You hung up first, and then there was silence, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall opposite. You watched the red second hand move, feeling as if it was mocking you.

The week was slow. It was an average one, but it dragged by. On Monday you had to sit through the usual chitchat inside the teacher’s lounge during lunch, catching up on everyone’s weekends. When Eunbi asked how yours had gone you’d breezed past it, expertly changing the subject to her weekend visiting Jungkook’s parents. Other than that, there was really no need for Seokjin to come up in conversation, which you were thankful for. You spent the rest of the week busy with the children, staying behind a lot later than usual just because it was easier inside your classroom.

At home you found yourself missing Seokjin like crazy. Ever since your first date you’d been in regular contact throughout the week, and then when things had gotten serious, you’d spoken to him every day – even if it was just on the phone in the evenings once school started back. For all contact to be gone was strange. You hated it, felt as if a part of you was missing. But you knew it needed to be done. As the days went (dragged) by you no longer felt overwhelmed by Sunday’s events. The shock had worn off and you had time to dissect it all, whether it be over dinner on your own when Soo was working late, or when you were in bed for the night, waiting to drop off. The more you broke it down the easier it was to place things in different categories. All the things that had shocked you, the things that had hurt you, and then finally, the things that had made you feel guilty.

On Thursday night you promised your mom you’d have dinner with her. Jonathon was abroad visiting his children and she hadn’t been able to get time off work to join him. She was bored at home all alone, so you really couldn’t say no despite a part of you wanting to. Before you arrived you’d made the decision not to tell her about your…what could you call it? It was hardly an argument with Seokjin. A disagreement..? Whatever it was, you didn’t want to worry her. After all this time she was over the moon you’d finally met someone you really cared about and you knew it was stupid, but you didn’t want to make her worry.

However, that all went out the window as soon as she opened the door to you. She was your mom for crying out loud, who could you confide in if it wasn’t her? She listened to you attentively. All your thoughts, all your worries – even if the potatoes were at risk of cremating, and it felt good to have your mother by your side.

“Seokjin is a lovely man, anyone can see that, but he’s allowed his flaws. He’s only human,” she reasoned, your conversation coming back to the way he’d acted around Nana. You knew your mother was right, and you were in no way judging him for it, but it had been very jarring seeing him change so suddenly. “Obviously he and his ex-wife bring out the worst in each other. Sounds to me as if they’re so used to hurting one another it’s become the norm.”

You nodded in silent agreement, thinking back to them hurling abuse at one another as if it was the most natural thing. In a way it had turned into a competition. Who could hurt one other the most. In the end, Seokjin had dealt the final blow. You. You could still see the hurt on Nana’s face now, even though it was days ago. It made your chest heavy all over again. You told your mom just as much.

“There’s no need to feel so guilty, love,” she told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Seokjin, whether it was intentionally or unintentionally, used you as a way to hurt Nana, and you need to tell him that you’re not okay with that.”

That was the part that had hurt the most now that you’d had enough time to think. Above all else, not telling Nana about you, the catalyst that led to his divorce, it was being used as some kind of weapon that stuck out. You had never wanted that. You had never asked for it.

“You are his girlfriend first and foremost.” Your mom continued. “Yes, you care for Arin but these things need to be spoken about first. You have never wanted to be, nor felt like you were the child’s mother. You know your boundaries and so should he.”

She was correct. You’d been so hesitant not to overstep the mark these past few months. You’d even been in two minds whether or not to offer to babysit Arin that weekend. You’d thought Seokjin understood that, your cautiousness when it came to the role you played in her life. After all, your relationship was still new, and Nana was very much a part of Arin’s life. However he had disregarded that all to throw a few cheap shots.

Your conversation shifted to Arin then. It was easy to sympathise with her, after all you’d been in her shoes once. Parents who seemed to fight more than they did talk. It had gotten better for you though, their relationship turning amiable once the divorce had settled. For Arin, it seemed to be only getting worse. You wished you could talk some sense into Seokjin. He might’ve thought that Arin was okay with her parents barely having any contact but you knew that wasn’t the case. It had been very telling to hear that Arin never brought Seokjin up in conversation with her own mother. That’s why it had taken Nana so long to find out about you. Deep down that little girl knew that her mom didn’t want to hear her dad’s name, and that was heart breaking.

Somewhere along the way, your mom asked you what you thought about Arin calling you her stepmother. Despite it being done innocently, the weight of the word meant so much more to the adults in the situation and you agreed. It had been strange to hear, and not just because it had come from Nana’s mouth. You were serious about Seokjin and could see a future with him, and that meant being in Arin’s life permanently. That word wasn’t so farfetched and you’d had plenty of time to think about it this week. What it meant for you, Arin, and of course Nana.

“How did you feel when dad first met Dahae?” You asked your mom. These things had never really come up in conversation before, which was surprising, but right now you needed any advice and insight you could get. Your mom had been in Nana’s shoes once after all. All those years ago.

“I was…happy for him,” she replied hesitantly. “It took time. It’s a confusing thing. I no longer loved your father but it felt strange to see him with someone else. Of course, everyone is different. Not one relationship is the same,” she added.

You nodded in understanding. Your father had met Dahae, his wife, when you were twelve. You had grown up with her and it didn’t feel odd to think of her as a second mom. You still called her by her name but when in conversation with others you often referred to her as your stepmom. Always had, for as long as you could remember. Maybe it was after the wedding, but you couldn’t be too sure. Definitely before she gave birth to your siblings though.

It was different with Jonathon. He’d always been “your mother’s husband” and not because you didn’t care for him or think he was a lovely man. He was, and you liked him very much, it was just… You were an adult when you met him, twenty to be exact, living across the country for college. The bond wasn’t quite there like it was with Dahae, but your mom understood that – so did Jonathon. But it made you pause and think. You’d never asked your mom how she felt hearing you call Dahae your stepmother. It had never crossed your mind until now.

“I didn’t like the idea at first, I have to admit, but who would?” She confessed. “It’s hard not to feel hurt or threatened, a whole load of different emotions,” she gave a small shrug, “but meeting Dahae, and seeing how kind a woman she was, and how much you meant to her made me see things differently.”

You smiled, silently hoping that one Nana would think and feel the same way when it came to you. You could only cross your fingers and try your best in the meantime.

Your mom nudged you, a playful lilt to her voice. “I think you’re very lucky to have two wonderful women in your life that love you and want the best for you – and yes, that’s a brag on my part.”

You laughed with her, but your worries were getting the best of you again, turning you sombre. “What if Nana never accepts me though?”

“I think you should only think about that if it happens,” she replied. “There’s no point expecting the worst right now.”

You still didn’t feel very hopeful though, it was probably written all over your face. Sweeping some hair out of your eyes, your mother’s voice was soft. “Love, she had no idea you existed, I think her anger was warranted.” A pause, tone changing. “Although, not at you. I’m not very happy about that.”

You chuckled at that. “It’s fine. You know I can look after myself.” You were feisty when you wanted to be, or scrappy as Seokjin had so comically put it once.

Wrapping an arm around you once more, she squeezed you gently. “Talk to him.” She urged. “You miss him. This time apart is getting pointless, you already know how you feel.”

You did. Your feelings were as strong as ever.

You had been itching to pick up the phone last night and just call him already, but you’d said Saturday. You only had one day left at work, you could hold out until then. It would be better that way, you didn’t want to interrupt a potentially busy day. Friday’s were often crazy for him, you didn’t want to be a distraction.

However, come morning break you bumped into Hoseok coming out of your classroom, eager to rush to your car and grab the apple that must have rolled out of your bag and onto the seat. (Hopefully – if it was on the floor it was going in the trash ASAP).

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He politely asked.

“Fine, thank you.” Talking with Hoseok always came easily, regardless of his position as the principal. “Glad it’s the weekend tomorrow. How about you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” he laughed, before adding, “Although, I hear Arin’s started hers early.”

“Oh?” You were immediately lost. Had you missed something? You hadn’t seen Arin at school all week, which wasn’t strange. Your paths rarely crossed these days unless you were on yard duty, and if you were being honest, you were glad it hadn’t been this week. She must have had an inkling something was wrong right now, she hadn’t seen you at all since Sunday, so you were relieved to know you didn’t have to answer any awkward questions. It was selfish, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it.

Hoseok looked confused by your reaction, but carried on regardless, shaking it off. “Seokjin called up yesterday, said she’d be visiting her mom earlier this weekend if it was possible. I figured maybe you and he had plans for tonight.”

You froze, forcing yourself to reply because your boss was waiting for one. “Oh, no.” You swallowed, coming up blank. “No plans.”

If Hoseok noticed your woodenness he didn’t let on. “One day couldn’t possibly hurt her education, right? But don’t tell the board I said that,” he added with a laugh.

You made yourself join in, although your mind was racing. “Secret’s safe with me.”

He smiled at you, giving you a nod. “Enjoy your weekend, alright? See you Monday.”

Thank God he had somewhere to be. You nodded back, watching him already begin to walk away. “And you, Hoseok.”

You proceeded to sit in your car for twenty minutes, half eaten apple already turning brown as you racked your brain. It wasn’t Nana’s weekend to have Arin. Was something wrong? You were probably being silly, conjuring up the worst case scenarios for no reason. If something had happened, Seokjin would have contacted you. He knew he could always count on you, but… You had told him you needed space and he’d agreed. He was a man of his word, so if something had happened, what if he thought he couldn’t call you?

You pulled your phone out of your bag at the thought, clicking on his contact but stopped yourself when you saw the time. You had just under five minutes to be back at class… I’m being irrational, you told yourself. If something was wrong he would have informed Hoseok, and the principal sounded absolutely fine. You were worrying for no reason. If something had happened, something bad, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to you. You knew that, and so did he. Only a few more hours and you’d get to talk to him. Most of those involved sleep. You could wait until tomorrow morning. You could.

You couldn’t.

It was half 9 and you were home alone. It was Soojung and Taehyung’s date night and she was spending the night at his place, so all you had for company were your own thoughts – and RJ, the alpaca plush Seokjin had won for all those months previous. You couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow, your mom was right, what was the point in waiting when you knew how you felt. You wanted to see Seokjin, to talk to him and feel him. You missed him like crazy.

Turning the television down low you grabbed for your phone which had slipped in between the sofa cushions. This time you didn’t hesitate, no work commitments calling your name, and dialled Seokjin’s number straight away. He picked up after only two rings.

“Y/N,” he breathed, sounding more than surprised.

“Hey, you,” you smiled into the receiver. It felt good to hear his voice again.

“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.”

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Of course not. Well,” he paused to laugh, “I was just about to head to bed.”

He sounded a lot like his usual self tonight, it eased your mind. You laughed along softly, a confession slipping past your lips. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You heard a sigh of relief his end. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.” The longing in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.”

“I’m ready,” you nodded. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

“I can come to you?” He suggested instead. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.”

“Oh.” You thought to ask him how come, but stopped yourself, you could get to that in person. He didn’t sound upset, which you took as a good sign. “Okay. Now?”

“It’s not too late?” He checked.

“No, it’s fine.” You were eager, shaking you head as you replied, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “I really want to see you.”

You could hear his smile too. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” You heard his footsteps along the floor, the sound of a drawer opening as if he was finding something to wear.

“Don’t speed,” you added, as a joke more than anything.

“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.”

“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.” It was silly, but you didn’t want the phone call to end even though in under half an hour he’d be here.

But you could be patient.

You could.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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islesnucks · 3 years

Note

hi bae can i request a barzy blurb based on dress by taylor swift? ty 🥺

a taylor swift song inspired barzy fic? hell yeah that’s like my two favorite things in the word together

requests are open so go send something if you feel like

also this turned out a bit longer than I expected

I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND - MAT BARZAL X READER

Word Count: 1.9 k

Warning: none

Summary: after Mat introduces you as his best friend and it affects you more than it should, you end up confessing your feelings for him

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

His words hadn’t left your mind the whole night, they were on loop, replaying over and over in your brain. ‘This is Y/N, one of my best friends.’ That’s how Mat had introduced you when you arrived at his family’s friend’s wedding, to which he had invited you as he’s plus one.

You knew you and Mat were just friends, you have been for a long time, and it surely wasn’t the first time he introduced you like that. Maybe this time hit differently because you had just come to terms with the undeniable fact that you had fallen for your best friend, no matter how cliché that sounded.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. It just happened slowly without you even realizing. Suddenly seeing him hit on random girls at the bar made you feel sick. Suddenly his hand on your lower back guiding you through a crowded room felt different. Suddenly your name coming from his lips made the world stop. You didn’t know what turned the switch in your brain from platonic to romantic love and made you look at him with new eyes, but once you realized it there was no going back and the thought of Mat and you becoming something more was always there painfully present in the back of your head.

“Y/N?” you heard Mat call you, bringing you back to reality. You looked at him still a bit lost in your thoughts. ”Are you okay?” he asked with his eyes stuck on the windshield as he drove you home after the wedding had ended.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been a little off all night.” He noticed, he obviously did. Because he’s Mat, he’s your best friend, he’s one of the most attentive guys you know and he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. So he obviously noticed, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t keep on pretending.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied failing to sound as confident as you wanted to. Mat didn’t say anything and the car fell back into silence.

You looked outside the window, trying to distract yourself and calm down. You weren’t far away from your place, in just a few minutes you’d be in your apartment. Mat had noticed something but he didn’t know what it was, so you could send him a text explaining you had a headache or something to get him off your back and just move on.

At least that was the plan but then Mat turned off the car and got out of it with you. You thought he was walking you to the building door like he had done many times, nothing strange. However he walked into the building with you and got into the elevator.

That’s when you started to suspect something was happening. You looked over at him confused and he just smiled at you, like nothing was going on. So maybe he was just walking you to the door. You decided not to think too much into it because if you did your heart would start racing and would notice your nerves, the last thing you needed was to give him more reasons to believe something was going on.

As you opened the door Mat was quick to walk into your apartment and you watched him with furrowed brows as he took a seat on your couch, casually like there was nothing weird with it.

“Excuse me? Can I help you with something?” you asked, stepping in front of him.

“I know something’s up Y/N. You barely talked today and you didn’t cry, I’ve seen you cry at stupid commercials and you didn’t cry at a wedding.”

You rolled your eyes walking away from him because you knew you couldn’t lie to his face, he’d notice. “I’m fine Mat I promised I just had a headache.”

“No you didn’t. When you have a headache you massage your head and you get sleepy, that’s not what happened today. It’s more like you were gone.” You hated how much he knew you, it would be harder to convince him but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.

“Well I’m sorry I don’t always have the same gestures Sherlock.” you replied, irritation was clear in your tone. Mat let out a deep sigh and got up. It wasn’t his intention to argue and he could see you were getting mad, he just wanted to know what was going on.

“Y/N I know you-” he started to say as he approached you but you were tired of hearing that speech.

“Can we not do this right now? I’m tired Mat, I just wanna go to bed.” you said with a defeated look, lowering your town. He looked at you for a minute and decided to push his stubbornness aside. He knew he was right, he’d bet a million dollars on it, but he also knew you were exhausted, he could see it in your face.

Mat walked till he was in front of you, inches away, and suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He held you tight as one hand went up to your hair to stroke it. You were surprised at first but then he felt you relax in his embrace. He placed a kiss on top of your head as he balanced slightly from one side to the other, keeping his face buried in your hair.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on okay? Because I know something happened, don’t even try to pretend it didn’t. I just wanna know if it’s something I did, that’s all I need to know because I can’t leave you here alone knowing I may have done something to upset you.”

His voice was soft as he spoke against you. Tears started to build up in your eyes and you tried to push them away as you debated what your next move would be.

If you told him it wasn’t about him he'd leave and you could move on pretending nothing happened and dealing with your unresolved feelings. If you told him the truth you didn’t know what would happen. However you knew that regardless of how he felt about you he’d be nice to you. The man was hugging you tight about his chest, refusing you to leave until you told him it wasn’t his fault because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing he did anything to hurt you.

Maybe it was the wine you had drank. Maybe it was because you were emotionally exhausted and unable to think clearly. Or maybe because you were tired of pretending. You didn’t know the reason why you decided to be honest and tell him how you truly felt, but you did that.

“You introduced me as your best friend today, that’s why I was off the whole day, I just kept thinking about it.” you mumbled against his chest, breaking the silence.

“Did you want me to introduce you differently?” He pulled away a little to be able to look you in the face, but his arms were still around you.

“Yes- I mean no. I-” You stumbled on your words, trying to find the right way to explain everything. “What you did was fine, I am your best friend, that’s right.”

“Then why did it upset you?” You rested your head face against his chest again, not having the courage to look him in the face as you confessed what you were about to confess.

“Cause I don't want you like a best friend Mat. I haven’t for a while now and I just don’t know how to deal with this. It’s not your fault, I don’t know what happened or when or how. I have these feelings for you and I guessed it hurt a bit to hear you calling me your best friend, even though that’s exactly what I am.”

After you spoke the room went silent again and you started panicking. You looked up at Mat who was already looking down at you and all you could see was shock. Suddenly your worst fear was real, you had screwed up your friendship with him. It was over. You felt the familiar knot in your throat and tears blurred your vision.

“Sorry ignore everything I said. Just forget it okay?” you said as you freed yourself from his embrace. Still no reaction whatsoever from him. “Shit. Shit. Shit. I feel so stupid.”

“Y/N.” he said, but you were too distracted pacing around the room and rambling to hear him.

“You know I even spent hours shopping for the perfect dress that would magically make you see me as more than your friend, do you know how stupid that sound? What am I? 15 years old?”

“Y/N listen-” he tried again but there was no getting to you, you were too lost in your own jabber. It was like once you started you couldn’t stop and you’d surely later regret all you were confessing.

“I’m an idiot. I really thought you could maybe by some miracle feel the same and-”

“Y/N!” he said now in a much louder tone so you would hear him and place his hands on your sides to stop you. You were surprised, not even realizing he had approached you at some point.

“Please stop.” he added now on a lower more tender tone, it almost sounded like a plea.

Now that you looked at him the initial shock had been replaced by something you couldn’t make out. His face was unreadable as he stated leaning in and before you could even question what was going on his lips were on yours.

You were surprised at first, eyes wide open not being to process what was going on. But once the initial shock was over you kissed him back. It’s embarrassing how many times you had thought what kissing him would be like, but it turned out to be even better than you could have imagined. His lips caressed yours gently, even a bit shily. Your hands met on the back of his neck and his slid down your sides to your waist, pulling you closer.

Then a thought found its way into your brain.

“Wait.” you mumbled against his lips and he instantly pulled away. “I need to know you’re not doing this out of pity.”

He chuckled letting his head fall back before answering. “I’m doing this because I also don’t want you like a best friend. Because you do look amazing in that dress. Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long now. Because-”

Your smile grew wider with every word and your cheeks turned red. You could tell he planned to keep on going, and you were surely going to ask him to tell you the rest later, but now there was only one thing you wanted.

“Ok, ok. I get it. We can go back to kissing now.” you said making him laugh, already tugging him closer by his neck and his laughs died in your lips.

hope you liked it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

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#mat barzal #Mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #Mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagines #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey fic #mat barzal fluff #mathew barzal fluff

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gojoho · 3 years

Text

MERCY

• pairing; toji fushiguro x reader [ nsfw ]

• premise; it’s the same dance with him, a shameless game of cat and mouse in which he always win but maybe losing is equally as rewarding.

• words; 2078

• note & warning; i’m back with some toji content, he’s just been in my mind a little to long for me not the write about him. some warnings for this one is public, unprotected ( wrap it and then tap it folks ) sex, with the usual grammatical errors—I swear I try to proof read ya’ll but they just manage to find a way to stay in there. i am slowly but surely getting my mojo back.

Old habits die hard; it's easier to hate each other that way. Labeling whatever that was manifesting between the two of you as that, a bad habit. A dirty secret only an onyx sky could appreciate enough to hide. Perhaps that's what kept it alive and kicking, midnight turmoil, where even the most terrible of bad ideas are more seductive.

Though it's debatable if the alcohol left you unhinged, mindless, and bold. What other excuse did you have for allowing the bastard to enter your domain? There was no shame from the thinking without a conscience, but with the pounding music and pulsing lights, you weren't sure there was even space to think. He held a brazen stare all evening, keen to every move you made.

A man's attention was never anything to sneeze at, but when it was a straggler like Toji Fushiguro, it was intoxicating. And more than the liquor, everything seemed to be within reach under his spotlight. He held his distance, clung to the darkness, yet with such an adamant gaze he could have been right there beside you. At least, that's how you imagined it but the game wasn't that easy.

He'd stay in his dark corner, not quite able to step closer until you were ready. Until the heat underneath your skin became unbearable, leaving you an aching mess. That made it easier to devour you. Whether it meant burying his head between your thighs or hooking his arms around your waist and keeping you open. Or bottomed out inside you, mouth feasting on your chest.

The club was full, Friday night packed but it would work in your favor. You knew none of the songs, not that it mattered, it was mere fuel to your movements. A nice accessory to the sway of your hips, to suggestive temptation behind them.

It wasn't worth looking in his direction; he was always watching. At that thought alone, your clothes become a nuisance. A means to an end, that would start with him. Toji was a patient man but knew that patience didn't extend to everyone, you in particular. He was a tease, and as your dress inclined it almost felt as if he'd been the one to hike it up.

A sensation too similar to his hands moving over your bare thighs, ready to pry them open. His smug chuckle was right there feeding your imagination, and as one song faded into the next, there wasn't a spot on your body that hadn't been kissed in theory. With one thought, you were drooling over a man less than ten feet away, fantasizing about all the ways he could take you. It was more of a headache than it seems, and as the pace of the songs picks up, the conscience returns. Whilst you make your way back to the bar. You'd need a little more liquid luck to get through the rest of the night.

“That was quite a show.”

“Didn’t know I had an audience.” What else could you have done but tell a bald-faced lie? Telling him the truth didn't do anyone any good. How you envision him fucking you in the middle of the dance floor.

“Could’ve fooled me." The bar was located farther away from the DJ and next to the restrooms. The quieter end of the venue, but you're sure you'd have heard his smirk regardless.

After all this time, it's only then that you turn to him.“What are you doing here Fushiguro?”

Big mistake, ten feet away he looked the same as when you last saw him, but up close and personal, some details that had escaped memory came back to haunt you.

“Would you believe me if I told you, I’m here to see you?”

Yeah right, “Not in the slightest.”

“It’s true for the most part, had a job in the area and thought I’d pop in do some sightseeing." He shifted his weight back to the counter, his elbows well-rested on either side.

“Well you came and you saw.”

“On the contrary,” he said. The double meaning has turned your cheeks crimson, and you're thankful for the red lights underneath the counter. “Cute dress.”

Images from moments before gloss over your eyes, heating every part of your body. They burned a path down your chest before settling below your hips. “Seriously Fushiguro what do you want? You made it pretty clear we both want different things the last time you popped in.”

“Things are different.” Sincere wasn't the word you or anyone else would use to describe the guy, but his demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed to be a completely different person.

“Yeah, they are,” you mumbled, tossing back a shot you managed to order before his interruption.

“Look," he started and turned to face you. Face inches from yours, his scent enveloping both of you. "I tried the settling down thing and it doesn’t work with my kind of lifestyle.”

It wasn't the words you wanted to hear, but you probably wouldn't have had them anyway. Wishful thinking, “Then that’s clears things up doesn’t it?” Toji Fushiguro didn’t do apologies, much like he didn’t do commitment, and even as he called after you, that would never change. Something you wish your body would recognize, no matter how much it longed for him.

The corridor to the restrooms was too quiet for him being that close to you...too intimate. In the quick second you had turned you back to him, ready to sober up and head home, he’d already been behind you. Pushing you up against the wall in the far corner, his arms barricading you in.

“You’re quite stubborn, you know that.” His voice was low, quiet all to maintain the secrecy veiled in the darkness.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to add it to my resume.” You witted, going to duck around him but he was quick and with a step forward his hips pushed yours in back place.

“Will you just listen,” he pleaded. Not that you had much of a choice, but he took your silence as obedience. “I won’t make excuses, I’m a shitty guy but it’s gotten me this far. You won’t get the white picket fence with me. That’s not who I am.”

It was true, he was a shitty person. One minute here and the next gone with the wind. All with impeccable timing, usually around when he’d finish fucking you senseless. Truthfully it wasn’t something too much of a problem, it was better if he had his life and you with your own. Though you supposed between the kisses, and that final thrust that brought you both over the edge left some vulnerability.

“If I’m stubborn, then you’re quite dense. I never asked for that Toji. I was fine with the wild sex but was a little conversation too much to ask? You’ve got baggage, newsflash so do I, but you’d think we’d handle it like two grown adults. You’ve always been on the move, please, slow down every once in a while.”

The silence is deafening, louder than the upbeat track in the distance. You were irritated, angry, and, to make it worse, aroused. What else did he expect from you but a meltdown? As he moved his head to your back, he lowered his arms, allowing them to ghost your waist. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, kissing it.

In retrospect, you should have jumped for joy, climbed to the top of the bar, and screamed at the top of your lungs like a lunatic, but you didn't. You didn't want to abandon his embrace at that moment; he had really changed.

The kiss in trial is slow and tender, responsive to not only the worries but any emotion in between. Everything you didn't think he was capable of and all rage bleeds into desire. Each of you starved and desperate to find a fill.

The stiffness of his pants condemned his hold, which found its power over your hips. You want to propose that he return the excitement to your place or whatever hotel he was staying in, but he broke the kiss to turn you around. His patience had reached its maximum for the night.

“Wait for a second,” you mumbled out. A slight moan slipped through feeling his erection firm and strong against your rear. The ends of your dress taunted by his fingertips liked how you pictured them too. “Sorry princess, no can do.”

It’s almost impressive how quickly he lifts your dress and slipping a finger past your thong. But should anyone know your body in grave detail it was him. There’s a ceremonial cheer from the crowd as the DJ lets the beat drop, Toji’s opportune moment of intrusion. Your own cry, not one in interest to the music but the long slender finger to part your folds.

“I’ve waited all night to get my hands on you,” he mumbled out, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Toji—”

“I’ll be quick, just the way you like it.”

It’s in your best interest to stop him there, keeping private matters just that, you should stop him...should.

“Fuck…quickly.” you cursed out in compliance. There’s a smirk on his face, you know it. Sure he’s different, but some things never change.

In the second he pulled his finger away, you whimper half expecting for it to slip back in, maybe even with a partner but a casual Friday night turns into Christmas.

“I'll take my time with you later, right now—” he started face pressed into the back of your shoulder. “I just need to be inside you.”

First was the tip of his cock, a feeble tickle before the rest of his inches followed. Stretching you full, slipping deep into your heat. Coaxing the ache that was for him, letting the world see just how easily your body welcomed his own. Yet, it was hard to care about the rest of the world when your own revolved around everything below your hips.

He gripped them tightly, anchoring you there at the hilt with a slow sure thrust before looping a hand to your front. Twisting the nerves in time with his sudden thrust. Quick like he said, but still slow enough to feel him move inside you. In and out, then over again. The excitement of having him there indulging with your body, and the anxiety of getting caught clashed. Making you even more aware of your walls around him, but in his muffled moans there are words of encouragement. Sweet nothings that make your arousal fierce, sexy, and less wrong.

“Don't stop, ” you say a little too loud for doing something taboo but you don't care, “Don't fucking stop.”

The million and one fantasy that flooded your mind on the dancefloor spirals, winding with the moment and coiled in an untamed void. Ready to snap at those trying to control it. And there, shrouded in the thin veil of privacy Toji picks up his pace, teasing it with each stroke until finally, it shudders through. Coming in waves, meeting your peek every time he pushed forward. Bolting down your legs the more sloppy and anxious his hips became.

“Fuck, ” he grunts hands shooting to your chest. Pulling you closer to him, eating up your moans with his.

Almost feral with the way he continued despite his cock’s twitches, he wasn't nearly satisfied but that was a mess neither of you was capable of cleaning up at the moment. Regrettably, you push back on his rhythm stopping it completely. Snapping him from the haze.

“We should go, ” you whisper out on his lips. Which he can only grunt back in response to, hesitant to slip from your warmth.

His hands are glued to your body, unable to null all contact as you tugged your dress back down or as he tucks himself back into his pants. You'd ask whether it was back to your place or his but the languid look on his face as the two of you shamelessly stepped into the light made it fruitful. It didn't matter where the two of you went, he'd have you crying for mercy.

#jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader smut #fushiguro toji x reader smut #gojoho

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Note

Love your writing and saw your requests were open! How would you feel about a Spencer x reader (more of a Rossi and niece or daughter reader) where Rossi is giving her away to Spencer. Maybe based on First Man by Camila Cabello. I thought it would be a cute concept!

Pumpkin

Summary: I pretty much followed the request!

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff!

Word count: 1053

a/n: This request was so freaking cute! I listened to the song, and just had to write it right away :)) The italics are flashbacks and bold are lyrics from the song!

“Are you ready for this, pumpkin?” The question was gentle, as if your life wasn’t about to change drastically.

“Yeah,” You took a deep breath to prepare yourself, “I am.” You looped your arm through his, turning to walk through the large oak doors in front of you.

“I want you to meet my uncle.” Spencer jumped slightly when you started speaking, unprepared for something to break the silence. “I know we haven’t talked about family much, but he’s all I have. You know my parents died when I was really young, so he raised me like his own. I want you to meet him.” You nodded, confident in your words.

“I would love to meet him.” Spencer put on a brave face, but internally he was screaming about everything that could go wrong. “When do you want to do it?” He cringed at how awkward the question sounded.

“He just got back to the city today, so we could do dinner tomorrow? Something casual.” You smiled, affectionately leaning into Spencer’s side on the couch.

“That sounds great. Whatever you want, baby.” At least if dinner was tomorrow, he only had a short period of time to feel anxious about it.

“Don’t worry. He’s going to love you.” You tried to calm Spencer down as you walked into the restaurant. You squeezed his hand, giving the hostess your name for the reservation.

“The other member of your party is already here, please follow me.” She lead you through the maze of tables and booths to the back left corner where a man was sitting, shielded from view by a menu “Here you are.” She smiled, accepting your thanks before turning to walk back to the front of the restaurant.

Spencer kept his focus on the ground, steeling himself for the moment he officially met your uncle.

“Uncle Dave!” You squealed, jumping to hug your uncle when he rose from the table.

“Rossi?” Spencer paled at the realization of exactly who your uncle is.

“Reid?” Dave was equally as shocked to find out just who his niece has been seeing for the past 5 months.

“Wait, you two know each other?”

You smiled at the memory as doors finally swung open, allowing you to start walking. You squeezed Dave’s arm as you took the first few steps down the aisle, excited for the journey you are about to begin.

“That was the last box. Thank you all so much for helping us move!” You hugged every member of the BAU as they left your new apartment. The one you now get to share with Spencer.

“Of course, pumpkin.” Dave hugged you for slightly longer than normal, sighing as he let you go. “You’re so grown up.” A sad smile graced his features as he took in what was really happening. “You better take care of her.” He turned to Spencer, putting on an intimidating face.

“I will. I already don’t deserve her. I won’t do anything to mess this up.” Spencer replied confidently, ready to show how much he truly loves you at a moments notice.

“As long as you always know she’s too good for you, we should be fine.” Dave joked back, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before.” You whispered as you walked arm in arm down the aisle. Dave had tears in his eyes, struggling to rein in his emotions.

“You look so beautiful. I just keep thinking about how small you were. You’ll always be my little girl.”

“Rossi, can I talk to you for a minute?” Spencer asked after knocking on the man’s office door.

He looked up from his desk, noting the nervous expression on the younger man’s face. “Sure kid. What do you need?”

“I just, I wanted to ask you... I mean, I know I don’t need your permission, but your Y/N’s only family...” It took every ounce of self confidence in him for Spencer to ask the next question. “I want to marry her, and it would mean the world to her if she knew we had your blessing.” He held his breath, waiting for a response.

“I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.” He took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the moment his baby girl gets married. “As long as you keep making her happy, I’d be honored to welcome you to the family.”

Upon reaching the end of the aisle, you pulled Dave into a bone crushing hug. “Thank you. For everything.” The took a few deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay for a little longer.

“Of course, pumpkin. I just want you to be happy. I can tell you two really love each other.” He spoke through the tightening of his throat.

“Well, you were the first man who really loved me.” You hugged one more time, whispering quick “I love yous” before turning to look at your soon to be husband.

A few more steps and you are hand in hand with Spencer, about to recite your vows.

Spencer had just taken you to dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. He lead you back to your apartment, but stopped in the hallway outside the door. “I love you so much, it’s hard for me to think about my life before you were in it. I was going to ask you inside with everyone, but I want this to just be between us.” He ignored the confused look on your face, reaching into his pocket and getting down on one knee. “Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

You instantly felt tears in your eyes, you struggled to get the one simple word out, “yes.”

Upon entering your apartment, you were instantly met with the entire BAU and your friends, all there to congratulate you on your engagement.

“I’m so happy for you, pumpkin.” You smiled up at your uncle, still in shock over the nights events. “You deserve the world and I know he’s going to do everything in his power to give it to you.”

“You may now kiss the bride.” The officiant’s words were barely registered as Spencer pulled you closer to him. He kissed you for the first time as his wife with the same passion that has been present since day one.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #requests #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot

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waybrights · 3 years

Note

Sats au

Marcy, after a whole day of nonstop writing: *sleepily/aimlessly walks around the studio*

Sasha, sipping her her coffee in the dark: "You know it's midnight, right?"

Marcy, going completely still: *looks around confused*

okay i wrote smth for this and ik it doesn't fit the prompt exactly i hope u enjoy it anyway!!!

There was something strangely comforting about the studio, especially when the only sound was the hum of the air conditioner and there was no one around. Well, no one but Marcy. Technically, she wasn't allowed to be there, but it's not like anyone was going to kick them out. Besides, she was certain no one knew she was still there. And if they did, no one had come for them yet, so they couldn't get mad when they found her asleep on the couch in the morning.

Besides, the studio was probably one of the only places Marcy could actually focus on what she was doing. Their house was too noisy, especially since Sprig and Polly were over for the week whilst Hop Pop was away on some important trip, and her phone and laptop were there too, all easy distractions from the music she was meant to be going over. So she stayed behind, in the dark studio that had really, really, shitty wifi and an air-con that was stuck blowing cold wind into the building.

Sure, it wasn't the best and they could afford to rent out a new one, but all three of them liked the studio enough to stay, even if the couch was starting to fall apart and it was constantly just above freezing.

On one particular night, Marcy was sitting on the cold floor, one of Sasha's guitars in her lap as she tried to figure out a chord progression. No matter how many combinations she tried, it never sounded right. Sure, they could always just ask Sasha to play something for her, but Marcy knew how tired she'd been recently, and didn't want to bother her with something as trivial as a chord progression. Plus, figuring out herself might make Sasha less stressed about having to do a whole tour after not playing for months due to an injury.

She hadn't meant to stay up so late, but then again, this stupid chord progression was meant to be easy. Luckily, the coffee machine had been fixed just the day before and restocked with just about everything Marcy needed to keep her awake for an extra ten hours and she was absolutely going to take full advantage of it.

---

Marcy wasn't sure how long she'd been sat there, staring down at those stupid lines, but the notes were starting to blur together, making it all the more harder to actually figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Their fingers hurt from playing and the song was rattling around in her head, the same three lines playing on a loop, bringing Marcy closer and closer to just tearing up the sheets surrounding her.

She hadn't realised she'd been crying until a single tear fell onto the paper, it only smudged one note, but it was enough for the frustration that had been building up for the past however long to boil over.

Biting her lip to stop herself crying even more, she stood up and made a beeline for the door, because if she stayed in this stupid recording booth for any longer, Sasha would come in finding her guitar in pieces.

Swiping up the half finished coffee, Marcy stomped out of the room, blinking quickly to get rid of the tears pooling in their eyes. God this is so stupid, she thought to herself as she slammed the door open. In the back of her mind, she knew it would mark the wall, but she didn't have it in her to care. She'd probably just let everyone down. It was a simple chord progression and she couldn't even figure it out. So much for one of the best songwriters, she huffed, practically slamming the cup onto the desk.

Only, she slammed it too hard and the handle came clean off. Marcy stared at it for a few seconds, their eyes flitting between the handle closed in their fist and the mug Anne had got for her birthday on the table. "Fuck," she mumbled, pressing the handle back onto the mug as if that would magically mend it. For a moment, it looked like it was balanced, and Marcy slowly pulled her hand away, only for the handle to clatter against the desk a second later.

For the next ten minutes, Marcy tried to reattach the handle, each with less success than the last. It was pathetic really, but she was so caught up in the fact that she broke Anne's gift to her, that she didn't really have the mental capacity to care about it. So what if everyone saw her breakdown the next time they checked the security footage? That didn't matter when she'd just ruined something Anne gave her.

It was the feeling of warm hands on her own that finally got Marcy to stop. Everything seemed to drain out of her as the mug and handle were pried away from her. Vaguely, she wondered who was in the studio so late, although there was a chance she'd just spent several hours trying to force a cup back together and everyone had arrived for their final session. Either way, they didn't object as someone wrapped their arms around her waist and picked them up.

"I'm sorry," Marcy mumbled after a few minutes. It hadn't been part of her plan when she opted to stay behind to have some sort of breakdown and then cry in someone's arms, and she couldn't help feeling like she should apologise.

"Don't worry 'bout it, you looked like you needed this," Sasha's voice was a mere whisper in her ear, but it still sent Marcy's heart racing.

"Sasha?" Marcy asked, her eyes snapping open as she stared up into her band-mate's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sasha said, a small frown on her face.

"I was," they paused and looked down, resting their head against Sasha's chest. "I was trying to figure out that chord progression you were complaining about. You've been so stressed recently, and it doesn't help we're going back on tour soon and you haven't played in a while, so I thought that, maybe, if I fixed it for you, it would make you slightly less stressed," saying it out loud, she realised that maybe it wasn't her best idea, but she wanted to do something for her friends. They both did so much for her, it was high time she did something for them.

“You… you didn’t have to do that, mar-mar,” Sasha said gently, and even though she wasn’t looking, Marcy could see the smile on her face. The way Sasha’s lips twitched up and her eyes would crinkle ever so slightly, because she didn’t usually smile and when she did it was a sight to behold. “But if that’s what got you so upset…”

“No, it wasn’t that,” well, not entirely, “I just got stressed.”

“That, or you haven’t slept properly in about a week and keep sneaking off here when you think Anne and I are asleep,” Sasha said, though her voice held no anger.

Marcy felt themself go still as Sasha spoke. How did she know? Were they that obvious? No, no she couldn’t be because no one had even asked her about it before! “That’s stupid,” Marcy scoffed instead, “I’ve been sleeping perfectly fine.”

“Marce…” Sasha mumbled, her arms coming up to gently squeeze their shoulders. “You don’t have to lie to me. I won’t force you to tell me, but if you think it’ll help to get it off your shoulders I’m-” she swallowed, almost like it was hard to admit that she was there for Marcy. “I’m always here, whenever you need. Even if it is 1 am on the shitty studio couch,” she ended lightly. Marcy giggled and moved slightly to bring a hand up to where Sasha was drawing random shapes on their bicep.

“Thank you, Sash, seriously,” they said, threading their fingers together. “And I will tell you, both of you, just not right now.”

“It’s okay,” Sasha whispered, very obviously trying to hold back a yawn, “I’ll wait for as long as you need.”

Marcy smiled and pressed the pad of her thumb against Sasha’s. “Are you excited? For next week?”

“Hmm?” Sasha hummed, her body jerking ever so slightly as she woke up. “Yeah, but I’m also nervous, y’know?” she mumbled, slowly waving her lightly bandaged hand around. “I haven’t played in a while, so I don’t want to mess up or anything.”

“You won’t,” Marcy mumbled, her eyes growing heavy as they sat there, Sasha’s warmth creating a bubble of sorts, where nothing could get to her. “You’re really great, Sash, you’ll be amazing.”

When no response came, Marcy slowly lifted her head, only to find Sasha fast asleep against the arm of the couch. It looked uncomfortable, and they knew she would complain in the morning, but she looked so relaxed and Marcy didn’t want to ruin that for anything. So she slowly shifted so she was laying down, their head on Sasha’s lap and her arms wrapped tightly around Sasha’s waist. “Night, Sash.”

#sasharcy brainrot coming back fast <333 #I JUST THINK THEY GET RLLY CLOSE OKAY!!!#and yh maybe this is slightly angsty but it ends in cuddles so <33 #amphibia #amphibia fic #sasha and the sharps au #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sasharcy #anon #you ask i answer #marie.txt

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gureishi · 3 years

Note

Hey there! I can't even put into words how much i adore your writing 💕 Could I request 21 (wanna love you in the daylight) with Saeyoung and a female MC? NSFW would be fine if it's okay with you~

I am absolutely delighted that both of you requested something spicy for this prompt with my favorite boy. And thank you soooo much for saying such kind things! Asks like this really make my day ♡♡♡ Aaaand here is...a scenario I’ve been wanting to write for ages—so thank you for giving me a good reason to finally write it!

wanna love you in the daylight

Saeyoung X Reader, E (smut warning!), Words: 2313

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Summer—and the sound of the wind whistling through the rolled down windows weaves itself into the music that’s playing at full volume over the radio; and he’s driving fast, like always, the late afternoon sun lighting up his hair a million shades of red and gold and amber. You lean back in the warm leather seat, using one hand to hold your windswept hair off your face. The winding road is long and empty—there’s no one out here but the two of you, and the endless fields of fragrant lavender, and the summer sun. He has one hand on the wheel and the other draped lazily across your thigh, like he left it there by mistake.

You’re not headed anywhere in particular.

You are the one who got him out here in the first place: tugging him behind you, a finger looped through the belt loop of his jeans, shaking your head as he protested that he was in the middle of—he just needed to—

He is always in the middle of something, and usually that something is an excuse to stay inside his big, air-conditioned home with its bright colors and empty rooms. But the air outside today feels like swinging on a swing set and running barefoot through the grass; but you want to see the late summer sunset reflected in his sparkling eyes.

So you are driving to nowhere, fast enough that your heart races—and he is content like this: calm and collected in a way he never seems inside the home that he claims is his sanctuary. He feels safest cooped up in his house—but he feels happiest out here, where he can feel the car’s engine like a mechanical heartbeat and he can make perfect turns at top speed on the curvy road and grin when you scold him for it.

You don’t scold him too much. Because you trust him—because he looks like he thinks he’s flying when he drives this way, and you wouldn’t take that away from him.

“Look at the road,” you tell him now. It’s extending ahead in a straight line—up and over a hill—and he has turned his sunlit head to gaze at you.

“Can’t,” he says. He smiles your favorite half-smile, tilting his head, intense eyes somehow taking in all of you at once. You shiver, because he is looking at you with all the heat of the sun that’s beating down on your bare shoulders.

“Saeyoung.” You try on a stern voice and he laughs softly, the very tip of his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Oh, what you would give to be inside his mind for just one single, shimmering second.

“I’ll be good,” he purrs—and he does turn back to the road, with a dramatic toss of his head, as if to show you how serious he is about it. A new song comes on the radio: a softer one, with a beat that matches the sound of the tires on the road and the fingers of the wind in your hair. Just as you are thinking this—and although he is looking ahead now, accelerating over the little hill—his hand begins to creep ever-so-slowly up your thigh.

You shiver again, nibbling your bottom lip. He seems to be radiating energy—his rough, calloused fingers skim under the seam of your skirt, tap tap tapping their way across your leg. They tickle your skin, and you feel squirmy—they dip inward, curving around your thigh, and you’re startled by the desire that pools suddenly—hot and insistent—in the pit of your stomach.

You crest the hill, and he eases up on the gas, letting the car coast downward. He grins coyly; his eyes glitter with concentration.

“This is dangerous,” you tell him—and you know he hears the raspy longing in your voice, because he smiles bigger.

“I’m looking at the road,” he says, his tone honey-sweet. “Just like you told me to.”

Ah—his fingers find your underwear, which is soft and silky smooth. He knows as soon as he feels it that it’s one of his favorites, and he laughs triumphantly. You hear him through a sort of haze: his index flinger flicks against you insistently now, and there are bright sparks edging in around your line of sight.

“Did you pick these out by accident?” he sings. He is too happy with himself, you think—almost drunkenly—reaching clumsily for the door’s leather handle so you can squeeze it. Your toes curl in your shoes. His finger moves quicker—softer.

“‘Course not,” you pant, hating (loving) how easily he has left you helpless. And it wasn’t that you were scheming, dragging him out of the house so he would touch you under the hot summer sun—but it wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it, either.

How could you not, when he looks this good in the sunlight, and the air smells like the sound of ice cubes clinking in a tall glass, and the hum of the car makes your skin shiver?

He accelerates.

You whimper, and the sound mingles with the song that’s playing over the radio and the wind whips you hair around and he makes perfect little circles with his fingertip, eyes on the road, grinning because he loves the way you sound when you’re falling apart.

“Saeyoung,” you gasp.

He swings the car around a sudden bend in the road and you know he feels the way your thighs shake because he is going faster, faster—and there are sparkles everywhere, white glitter and blurry lavender and the rumbling of the engine and the specks of gold dancing off his hair as he drives straight into the sun.

He takes his eyes off the road again.

And it is this—the heat in his gaze and the feeling of his fingers against the smooth fabric of your underwear and the way the sunlight strikes his shoulders—that does it.

You can see nothing but glittering gold and blinding light; you know you’re crying out but you can’t quite hear it; and your body feels weightless, like paper—like his finger alone is tying you to the leather seat, and otherwise you would float off into the cloudless sky.

And then sensations return—your toes, curled tightly in your shoes, and your fingers, tense as they clutch the door handle.

You say his name again. His face swims back into view: golden and delightful and—and—

There is something new there, too. His eyes have darkened, and he looks like he’s lost. His hand trembles.

“You are—that was—” His voice is low, and it sends another little spark through through your weightless body. There is a hunger, and a desperation, in the way he watches you now; he looks like he is about a minute from falling apart himself.

“Saeyoung,” you say—louder and firmer than you’d intended. He jumps, like you’ve taken him by surprise. “Pull over.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand still on your leg—he’s gripping it now, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise—he veers off the road, slowing to a near-perfect stop on the grassy shoulder. The car does jolt the tiniest bit—unusual for him—and he lifts his arm from your leg to throw it in front of you, as if he’s going to single-handedly protect you from inertia.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Get out of the car,” you tell him. His eyes flash. You are already undoing your seatbelt, stumbling ungracefully from the car onto the flattened grass around it. But he is quicker than you are—and by the time you’ve shut the door behind you, he is in front of you.

“That was fast,” you say, giggling. Your head still feels hazy, your thoughts swimming lazily through a pool of pleasure.

“God,” he hisses. His hands fall to your waist, and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing into your hips as he walks you back into the car door. “I really—I want—”

You throw your arms around his neck, and he understands. He lifts you easily, both hands gripping your thighs—and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you around the front of the car. He peppers desperate kisses over your neck, across your shoulder; with one hand, he touches the hood of the car—and he winces.

“It’s too hot,” he mutters, his teeth sharp against your skin.

“Don’t care,” you say.

He lowers you slowly, cautiously—and it is hot, but not overwhelmingly so. You pull him closer with your legs around his waist and he groans.

“Come here,” you say. The look in his eyes is irresistible—the sounds he is making as you buck your hips up, grinding against him, are intoxicating. You unbutton his pants with one hand, tugging down the zipper.

“Impressive,” he croons.

He slips a hand up your skirt again—his other hand bracing you, holding you in place—and tugs your underwear off in one swift motion. You notice that he sets them carefully beside you; they are one of his favorite pairs, after all.

The sun is just behind him, nearly blinding, and its flames seem to dance in his golden eyes. His fingertip flutters over you again—slips inside you, curling delicately.

“I wanna…” he mumbles, gazing down at you, spread out before him on the hood of his sleek little car. You moan and his hips twitch.

“God,” you say. “Please do.”

He grins, and his smile is as bright as the sun that’s just starting to set over his shoulder. He closes the tiny bit of distance—pulling his jeans and his boxers low on his hips, shivering a little as he feels the heat that’s radiating from the car on his exposed skin.

“Are you sure it’s not too—” he mutters: nervous, now, like you haven’t seen him in a while.

And you’ve said his name all sorts of ways today: as a reprimand; as an exclamation of ecstasy—but now, when you say it, it is a plea.

“Saeyoung.”

He obeys. He always does.

He shifts closer, a mysterious sort of delight dancing in his eyes. He steadies you.

“You—” he says. “You are…”

He thrusts into you, and you never hear the next word, if there is one at all—the blinding sparks are back, bursting in your peripheral vision, and you feel him against you, inside you—his hips tremble, and his hand on your waist is firm. You grab fistfulls of his t-shirt, wanting it off, lacking the mental capacity to get it over his head—and he thrusts into you again (harder, rougher), groaning as you toss your head back and grasp at his skin with needy fingers.

He finds a rhythm: and he is looking at you, still looking at you, fire in his eyes; lips parted, breath coming hard and fast. He is trying to keep it together, you think—and the car is warm beneath you, and the sun is hot on your shoulders, and his skin is tingly, sparking, full of fireworks.

You angle your hips upward, your eyelids fluttering shut, your legs feeling like they are suspended in some thick liquid. You need him, need him…

And he lowers his head to your shoulder—moving faster now, harder—and you wish he would absolutely consume you. You squeeze tighter around him and he understands.

He rocks you back into the hood of the car—and it’s too hot, not hot enough, just right—and the wind blows your hair into your face but you can’t quite feel it, and your toes are numb, and your heart is in his hands, in the air, in the steadily cooling engine and the smoke between you and the flames that dance over his skin.

You say his name again.

And he is shaking—rocking into you faster, faster—his hand on your hip trembling as he groans, biting down on your shoulder.

Losing himself entirely.

Losing.

Lost.

Gone.

The sun begins to set. Slowly, slowly—he stills. Starts to breathe.

And he presses his lips to your shoulder more gently now; he lifts his head. Mindlessly, you tangle a hand in his hair and pull him close. His lips taste like your sunscreen and you can feel the rhythm of his heart in your bones.

“Can’t believe,” he whispers, turning his head to nibble the side of your ear. “Can’t believe we’ve never done it on one of the cars before.”

You laugh; you feel giddy. He pulls away carefully, staring into your face as he tugs his jeans back over his hips.

“You’re always so focused on driving,” you say. He shakes his head, and his hair falls beautifully into his eyes. He leans against the hood of the car, beside you, and you take his hand.

“Not true,” he says.

There are magnificent colors in the sky now—lavender like the flowers all around you, pink and orange and gold.

“You like driving,” you tell him. He laughs, and the sound is radiant—like the way the air tastes.

“Yeah, I like driving,” he says. You turn and find he’s looking at you again—and all the colors of the setting sun are reflected back at you in his magnificent eyes. “But I’m focused on something else.”

He smiles a smile of sunsets and the purr of the engine and the balmy air on your shoulders.

You don’t have to ask him what he means. You, say his fire-colored eyes; and you, says his steady hand in yours. Focused on you.

Every second; every minute; every single day.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #gureishi writes requests #anon #crustycrusadesstuff #after it all #spicy spaceship

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall?

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

“Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

“Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

“You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

“Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

“Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

We have mailboxes??

“Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

“I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

“Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

“What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

“I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

“Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!” “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

“Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

“To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

“I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

“Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

“No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

#jungkook x reader #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #Jeon Jungkook x reader #doctor!bts #bts neighbor au #bts as your neighbors #jungkook neighbor au #armyadvocatesaapi

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blush-and-books · 3 years

Text

i am always yours

canonverse juke one-shot, light angst with a happy ending :) as a part of the effort to get juke back on the tumblr fandometrics ship list! title from the end of all things by p!atd. again, fuck brendon urie, but i’ve had this hc about luke for awhile (you’ll see what i mean) and had to get this out! <3 enjoy!

When Julie told Luke about Panic! At The Disco, she didn’t just give him a list of songs to check out. She advised to listen through entire albums.

“You have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning over a mug of steaming tea. Her smile could convince him to do anything. “And these guys were a phenomenon. Despite… A lot that has happened with their lead singer, you’ll appreciate the music. Just give it a try when you feel like it.”

Julie never rushed him on anything. It was one of the things he loved most about her -- she only really insisted he know how to use her phone and the internet and maybe know some memes, but the rest was up to him. She loved him -- he hoped -- even if he wanted to stay in 1995.

However, whenever she told Luke to do something, like “look into it if you’re interested” or “check it out if you’re ever bored,” he would jump on it in an instant.

He wondered if she ever noticed. Acts of service was one of those love language things that Flynn was always talking about, right? Does making the effort to show an interest in the other person’s life by listening to every album by a band they like count?

He would ask Reggie or Alex, but Reggie doesn’t have much experience in the love department and Alex and Willie are much better at communicating than he is with Julie.

To be clear: Luke doesn’t have experience either. In fact, Reggie probably has more romantic experience between the two of them.

But none of it was as serious. This weird thing he has with Julie; this undefined, label-lacking supernova of passion and emotion that he has curled up in his chest is so strong sometimes it hurts. When Julie was upset at him and ignored him, it felt like the time his mom took his guitar and locked it away for a week.

But when Julie is around, and she’s smiling at him, he could swear that not even a roaring audience could spark the kind of nirvana he feels.

So, the day after she gives him the name of every Panic! album to date, she goes to school for six hours and he sneaks her laptop down to the garage and starts his deep dive.

(Yes, Julie gave him computer privileges. He knows boundaries. She’s just broadened hers.)

Blissfully and with few interruptions from his other bandmates, he goes through the first albums quickly. He skips most of Pretty Odd -- Julie should have warned him about that one -- and is enjoying himself until he gets to the later projects which are significantly less his sound.

But he keeps going. He reaches their album from 2013, which has this neon-angsty-alt-pop vibe that he honestly has a neutral opinion on. The songs are all good until he realizes that half of them have a painfully romantic overtone that ropes his mind back to Julie every time he tries to stray.

Fuck, one of the songs is literally titled Girl That You Love. How is he not supposed to have a montage of Julie in his head?

And then some shit called Far Too Young To Die comes on, and yes, he agrees, he was far too young to die. He also vows to never listen to it again in the next 24 hours because he is ultimately tempted to loop it until Julie comes back and kiss her breathless the second that she walks through the door.

Moving on, Collar Full doesn’t make things much better. He is sick and tired of waiting and dancing around his feelings for her, and every time they are together he is filled to the brim with lyrics and love from just minutes in her presence.

(“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I want to go” definitely shatters him. But only briefly. He wants to soak up every ounce of love he can get from her before the world catches up to them and he’s crossing over without his consent.)

Luke thinks that he’s out of the woods when he hits the album-ending ballad, The End of All Things.

And then he sees that he’s still in the thick of it.

The way it hits him is nearly indescribable -- but every line hits like a read-aloud of his diary.

No matter where he is, or where he ends up, his soul will always belong to Julie Molina. And that’s the truth of it. He can cross over or the band could break up and he could wander the planet as a lost ghost for the rest of eternity, but his soul will linger; tied with Julie’s in an unsolvable knot.

He is hers.

He is hers, he is hers, he is hers.

And he’s in love with her.

He can’t ask her to love him back. But he can hope, right? For just a single moment where they can lay together and be Julie and Luke like they should have been.

The tears on his cheeks and under his eyes don’t register until they are streaming down his neck and onto the pillow that he’s laying on.

He doesn’t deserve Julie, he knows that. And he knows how fucking selfish it would be to even try. But sometimes the wanting reaches inside of him and individually snaps each and every one of his ribs, and that feeling keeps him pushing and pulling like the tide. Get close to her, make her smile, make her laugh.

Leave her alone. Stop flirting. Don’t you dare hurt her.

Think about somebody other than yourself.

This song, he ends up looping. Over and over and over until his emotions are exhausted and he doesn’t have any tears left to cry. He’s on his… Probably his ninth listen when the doors crack open, and the piano music is leaking out of the garage as Julie slips in.

“Luke! Hey, uh… Oh! You’re listening to Panic!”

He guiltily allows his heart to skip at the pleasant surprise in her smile. Clearing his throat, he swipes his hands viciously across his cheeks to rid of the tear stains and shoots her one of his classic smiles. “‘Course, Boss. You told me to.”

Her backpack hits the coffee table as she slowly approaches the couch to settle next to him. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually expect you to. People normally just say ‘yeah, I’ll check it out!’ and then no one talks about it again.”

Something rubs him the wrong way about her not thinking that he would actually follow through with her recommendation. Does she doubt him? How does she not know that she could say jump and he would ask how high?

“Well, I’m not normal people. I care about what you care about.”

He knows he got her when she averts her eyes to Alex’s drums across the room; giving Luke a perfect view of her blush. Maybe he lets himself revel in it for a moment longer than necessary.

“Anyways, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” she shakes off her previous flusteredness, tucking her leg under her body so that she can turn to fully face him. “But there's nothing to tell. I would much rather hear about what you thought of Panic! And you have to tell me why you were wiping tears off of your face when I came in.”

Luke mirrors her position and gives her a joyful grin, trying to ignore the fact that she clearly noticed him trying to clean his face and wants to talk about it. The two of them have been so good at communication, and if it were about anything else, he would tell her.

But he was nearly sobbing because of how much he loved her and couldn’t have her, so…

“They were pretty cool, I’ll give it to you. I liked the album… Vices and Virtues?” Julie nods her head. “Yeah, that one. I was finishing the Vegas one when you got home.”

“Did you like it? The album you just finished. It sounded like End of All Things when I came in.”

With wide eyes and an exaggerated nod, Luke is praying internally that she will move on and go on a tangent about her favorite albums and songs because he just wants to listen to her talk and quietly love her instead of dodge questions about his emotions.

“Okay, and did you like it? Is that-” She chuckles. “Is that what got you emotional? I mean, I get it, that song hits different sometimes, but-”

Luke stays quiet. If he keeps his mouth shut, and just smiles and stares and nods, it won’t slip.

“... Luke? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“... So? Are you… Are you okay? Did it remind you of your mom?”

It reminded me of you, he instantly corrects her with the little voice in his head.

But the voice sounds louder than usual, and then Julie’s eyes widen, and Luke couldn’t even smile and nod well enough to cover this up. Since when is he so bad at bottling up his emotions?

Right. Since he couldn’t write songs about his feelings. Because if he did, Julie would see them, so every word of affection toward her was shoved into an overflowing filing cabinet in his brain that was probably waiting to explode at any moment.

“It- Really?”

Mental checklist: She isn’t running away. She isn’t crying. She isn’t running away while she’s crying.

She isn’t slapping him, or screaming at him, or expressing any negative emotions.

Maybe he can push another inch… Just for some relief.

“Y- Yeah.” The single word takes considerable effort to stutter out, but he says it.

Julie formulates her next move. “And… Like, what about it? What reminded you of me?”

Is Luke imagining things, or did she just shift closer to him? Oh, God. The selfishness has already done it’s damage. He’s initiating something that he definitely shouldn’t for both of their sake, but-

God, why does she look so pretty?

“Y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, “the… The lyrics.”

“The lyrics?” “Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

She’s leaning in. Her fingers are trailing up the side of his leg, and he wants to poof himself out of this conversation but what would hiding do? Just create a bigger gap between them?

His mom always told him he was selfish. He really, really doesn’t want to be selfish to Julie. He wants to protect her. He wants to put her health and happiness and life before his. Hurting her will never give him peace.

Is he being selfish either way? Telling her his feelings to make himself feel better, and avoiding his feelings because he thinks it will be better without talking to her about it -- neither are ideal, are they?

His hand, which was previously resting in his lap, inches down to brush against hers. “The first verse…” Their index fingers wrap around each other. “And the chorus, and the second verse…”

Both of their hands tangle until Luke doesn’t even remember what his hand looked like before, because all he sees is a bronze-ivory marble of skin and he knows he doesn’t ever want to see his hand without hers again.

“Luke…”

“Yeah, Boss?” “Why were you upset?”

She really won’t let it go. She clearly knows him too well, because he would hope any other person would be distracted by the fact that they were about to kiss, but this is Julie. They’re friends first. Family first.

He owes her honesty, doesn’t he?

“Because the song was right,” he answers, staring deadlocked at their joined hands. “No matter where I am, or how much time goes by… It’s gonna be you. On my mind. My feelings will never change.”

He can’t tell, but Julie’s heart ignites in her chest.

“Feelings? What-”

Somehow, the words still don’t want to come out. The eight letters are resisting every opportunity she has offered him, so he resorts to actions and cuts her off by raising their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand.

His lips linger before their union drops back into the space between them.

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

In a moment of courage, Luke peeks up at her, just to see how she looks. If he can read everything she’s feeling in a millisecond of a glance.

There are tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, Jules, why are you crying?” “Why were you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid of doing this!” Her hand tightens around him at his volume. “Julie, I- I don’t want to do anything selfish. I can’t have you thinking I’m selfish. I’m afraid of-” He has to take a deep, shaky breath. “When we hold hands or when you smile at me and I just feel so much and then I tell myself that I can’t, because you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t even know what’s in my future.”

The tears well in her eyes. “What would you be doing that’s selfish, Luke? You have a second chance at life. You should fucking live it. You have a future, and it has the boys, and the band, and me. I’m in your future.”

There’s a beat, because he’s looking at her, and he wants to cry but he wants to say it so badly.

He still doesn’t know how much time he has in the future, but Julie is telling him that she’ll be there. And he needed that more than anyone would understand.

“Well, aren’t I?”

Julie’s question shocks him a little because he hadn’t realized that he had been quiet for so long. Her bottom lip trembles the smallest amount when she sucks in a deep breath, and it sets him off to do what he had once deemed to be the most selfish act of all.

His free hand tucks itself in the hair on the base of her neck and tugs her towards him before he covers her mouth with his in a kiss that he has furiously dreamed of for a long time. For such a sweet moment, there is an overload of passion behind it. All of his fantasies were rushed and adrenaline-fueled after shows before he would talk himself down; and now, that is translating to this kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as he pulls away. “That’s the selfish thing I was worried about. Fuck, I-”

Her hand wrestles free from his, and suddenly, two hands are on his cheeks like the night after the Orpheum and the love of his life is pulling herself into his lap. On autopilot, he untucks his leg from underneath him and shifts to sit normally on the couch while Julie’s legs hold her up on each side of his hips.

And she’s kissing him again, touching him again, before he can let the panic set in. She moves her lips against his like she has her own overflowing filing cabinet of feelings and fantasies and lyrics just for him.

Her hands wondrously drain every jolt of worry and anguish from his nervous system as they run from his face to his arms to his chest and back again. Kissing Julie Molina is a thousand little feelings and it’s own feeling in itself.

When you get cold water from a water fountain and it’s so refreshing that you insatiably want more. When the set ends and Luke is taking his bows and watching people scream and clap for their performance, knowing once again he’s succeeding in the one thing he’s ever wanted to do.

Only now, making music is now tied with making Julie happy on that list of priorities.

Holding her under his hands is stupidly one of his favorite things, and in this context, it is leaving him clawing for more. He applies more pressure against her back to try and press her closer, but it never feels like enough.

Julie is an endless fountain of fervor, and he can only drink up everything he can get.

She’s the one who pulls away this time; but she keeps her fingers knotted in his hair because she plans to not stray far.

“You’re not selfish,” she sighs, chest heaving with deep breaths. “If you think that’s selfish, then I’m selfish. And we can do this together. We deserve it.”

Hearing the words tumble from her lips cancels out every fight he’s ever had with his mother.

She’s right -- they do deserve it. She shut the world out for a year, he was locked away from the world for 25, and by some miraculous turn of fate, they were brought to each other.

“We deserve it,” he repeats, a little distracted by her blown pupils and delirious smile. “We deserve it.”

They lean in at the same time to fall back into one another like it’s a new routine they’ve set. Luke doesn’t say the words, not yet, at least-

Because like she said, they deserve this. Julie Molina is on his lap, in his arms, playing him with her soft hands like his skin is the ivory keys she’s been playing since childhood. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure that she loves him -- so maybe, even though the future is uncertain, he can just wait a little longer to tell her. There’s simultaneously less of a delay and less of a rush.

Later, when they’re in her room and staying up way too late for a school night in deep discussion, he mumbles it against her forehead while she has her head tucked into his shoulder and their shared earbuds are playing The End of All Things.

Any concerns of selfishness fade when she wastes no time in reciprocating his declaration and punctuating her feelings with a cripplingly soft kiss above his collar bone.

If any of this is selfish, they can be selfish together. Luke can find himself to be content in that if Julie is right there with him.

tags: @lydias--stiles @bluefirewrites @willexx @moreflowersthanweeds @ruzek-halstead @xxprettylittletimebombxx @unsaid-emily

#juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #palina

169 notes · View notes

poppysmc · 3 years

Text

I Don't Know How You Do It But I'm Forever Ruined

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so so long, unfinished with a different song and Im just obsessed with this song right now so I thought I'd go ahead and post it.. sorry for the mistakes I don't have a beta so they're all mine. I'm just slowly getting back to writing again, please be patient with me. ❤️

Song: Off my face - Justin Bieber

(One shot)

Last and certainly not the least…. Ms. Morgan Hughes, she’ll be gracing us with her angelic voice, singing… uhh… Off my face? Thomas reads the cue cards, slightly puzzled, he thought Morgan would be doing stand-up, he and Morgan’s posse endured long nights of practicing her stand-up routine and now she’s just gonna sing, it’s not even vetted on.

He glances to the side, silently confirming if it was right. Morgan nods and smiles nervously. He in turn smiles back, giving an encouraging thumbs up and a whisper of ‘good luck’ as she takes to the stage.

Some of the audience chuckled at the name choice, adding to the ever growing lump lodged in her throat. This is definitely not her best idea and before she could go ranting about the title, some of her friends clapped and cheered, giving her a slight boost of confidence.

She wrote thet a few months ago, absently plucking at the guitar strings. She’s got the same few chords stuck in her head for week. Only god knows how she pulled the lyrics out of her muddled brain.

How does one go about sharing her feelings for someone who has no idea? Said someone sitting front and center with a scowl, sitting next to her parents. She has no idea she wrote it for her, she sighs in relief.

For a split second she could see Poppy’s attention snap up to her, smirking and raising her eyebrow in question. Morgan rolls her eyes at her and settled into her chair and just like Poppy’s face never moved, her scowl was back in place, listening to Chloe rant about her talent to her right.

She starts plucking out the intro, it’s now or never.

One touch and you got me stoned

Higher than I’ve ever known

You call the shots and I’ll follow

Sunrise but the night’s still young

No words but we’re speaking tongues

If you let me I might say too much

Sometimes people just enter your life and burrow themselves so deep into it that for the life of you, you couldn't remember when it all started. This case was different, Morgan could vividly remember a day it all changed, how it became harder for her to even look Poppy in the eye for more than a few seconds. How her warm touch roughly pulling her back to the argument now seemed to burn through her sleeves, pressure slightly softer. She used to meet her hot gaze, faces only inches apart spitting out vicious insults without thinking much, now she didn’t have the same fire in her veins she seemed to have arguing with Poppy.

The need to antagonize her fizzled into something else, a warmth that threatens to overtake her made itself a home in her chest.

---------------

Morgan wanted to stay home, as much as she enjoyed parties, it wasn’t something she wanted to do regularly. Sometimes it gets a little too much to handle, the music felt too loud, the people got too close, the eyes on her felt stifling. She wanted to be free just this one night out of expectant looks but Zoey is too convincing, her puppy dog eyes are too powerful for a mere mortal like herself. She made a condition to just be at the party no over the top expensive clothes, just herself.

“I’ll come but just to be your glorified chauffer.” She dresses herself in something simple, a pair of black pants and flannel. “I just want to be invisible this one night, Zo.”

“Fine by me, but if your fashion choices end up splashed all over The T tomorrow don’t come crying to me.” Zoey shakes her head, the slight dig on her wardrobe is softened by a thankful grin.

“You get dragged on The T once, and no one lets you live it down.”

“Because I’m pretty certain I said don’t go out in that, it’s suicide. So yeah I would never let it go, you wore socks with your flip-flops and had the audacity to show yourself in public.”

“It’s not even my fault, sunny ran out the door. I had no time to check what I was wearing."

“You’ll never learn. Whatever will you do without me?” Zoey smirks and shakes her head affectionately. "Stop stalling and let’s go. My carriage awaits dear chauffer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please allow me to escort you down, boss.” Morgan bumps her shoulders with Zoey as she passes by to grab her jacket. She opens the door and offers her arm, Zoey laughs and loops her arms around hers.

The party was already in full swing once they arrived. The music was blaring; the bass makes Morgan’s chest thump along erratically with every beat. “Text me, okay? I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Sure. Thanks for driving.” Zoey winks and beelines for the bar. In a few seconds she loses sight of her.

Morgan trudges through the house, the crowd gradually thins as she makes her way farther to the back. She exhales in relief finally free of the maze of drunk students with no boundaries, nobody seemed to pay attention to her, thank god for the dim lighting. The backdoor swings open, she breathes in the crisp night air. The door shuts and party fades into muffled thumps. She sat on the porch steps, her side leaning against the banister, oblivious to the pair of eyes quietly observing her.

After a minute of silence, Morgan sucked air through her clenched teeth, surprised at hearing someone pointedly clearing their throat behind her. The rate in which her head whipped back almost made her dizzy. When she recognizes who the person was, she could already feel the headache coming through, she almost swallows her tongue in disbelief. Of all the people she didn’t want to see her tonight was Poppy, yet here she was, alone with her.

“What are you doing back here?” Poppy asked, voice devoid of any venom just genuinely curious.

“Do I need permission to be? Who made you queen?” Morgan scoffs, the slight bite in her voice comes through and makes Poppy smirk.

“Belvoire.” Poppy cheekily answers, earning an undignified snort from Morgan. The slight tension momentarily forgotten.

“Should have seen that coming.”

“The party’s raging inside and little miss newbie sits here. What are you doing, really?” Poppy asks not unkindly, voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

“I could ask the same to you.”

“I asked first.” Poppy frowns impatiently.

Morgan sighs, opting to just answer just to avoid trouble. She didn’t have the energy to make up excuses nor to argue. “I don’t feel like partying today. I’m just waiting for Zoey to get flat out drunk and drive her home. My turn.”

“It’s- It’s overwhelming inside. I just want to be alone for a while.” The honesty in Poppy’s answer momentarily throws her off.

“Do you want me to go?” Morgan asks, feeling like she’s intruding. This must be the longest record they ever had being civil to one another, actually speaking without the sarcastic comments and the insults. It makes her feel out of place and awkward.

“You could do whatever you want. I’m not the queen of anything right now.” Right, cause technically it's Chloe. There’s something in her tone that makes Morgan’s heart clench, yet she shrugs it off as the bass from the party. To Morgan’s never ending surprise, the blonde pats the spot next to her on the bench. “The floor is filthy.” Poppy clarifies when she makes no move to stand. A disarming smile crosses her face, Morgan guessed her hesitation must have been showing.

Morgan stands and dusts herself off. “Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?” She asks with a grateful smile, sitting down the furthest she could from the other girl.

“I have half the mind to kick you off this bench.” Poppy grumbles.

“There she is.”

Poppy huffs out a half laugh and after that there’s just silence. After a while she could see the slight tremble in Poppy’s hand in her periphery. She wordlessly shrugs off the coat she’s wearing and offers it to the other girl.

“What?” Poppy blinks, eying her coat suspiciously, making Morgan chuckle in disbelief.

“You’re cold. Take it or go inside.”

“Fine.” Poppy slips on the offered garment, appreciating the warmth it gave to her cold limbs. She wasn’t thinking while she burrowed herself further, letting Morgan’s scent envelope her. She stared at Morgan, feeling guilty for a moment. She moves closer, Morgan shivers when their shoulders touched. "Thanks." Poppy whispers, if it wasn't for their proximity, Morgan might have missed it. She hoped the shadows hid the small smile spreading to her lips.

“I’m sorry for taking your coat. I just couldn’t go back inside. I-” Poppy trails off, breaking her gaze away and staring farther up the yard.

“It’s okay, I offered. You don’t have to explain anything.” Morgan understood, after today everything changed, she lost her spot to one of her friends. Morgan was somewhat surprised that instead of Poppy's explosive anger, she opted to just sit here and mope.

She jumps a little when her phone vibrates in her pocket, she could see Poppy smirk in the corner of her eye.

"Jumpy."

She reads the text and taps a reply, frowning. She turns to Poppy. She doesn't even know why she's explaining but it felt wrong to just go without saying anything. A part of her wanted to make this moment stretch a little longer, so she hesitates.

“Apparently Zoey doesn’t need me to drive her back. So... I guess I'll head back home." Morgan stands not having an excuse to stay longer and makes her way to the door, hands hovering over the door knob to open it but not before doing something stupid like asking her so called enemy if she wanted to drive around for a while.

“So… Do you still want company? We could drive around for a while?” Morgan mentally chastises herself for the suggestion. Of course Poppy would say no it’s not like she-

Morgan looks back at Poppy, she sees her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Morgan’s gaze flickers down to her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they looked. The moment passed and she breaks her gaze away just as Poppy decided.

“Sure but let me just get my stuff.” Poppy stands and makes her way to the door, Morgan standing motionless, hand over the handle. She reaches for it, her fingertips grazing Morgan’s, the slight static made her pull her hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.” Morgan breaks through her short circuited brain and moves to hold the door open for Poppy. “I’ll wait for you out front.” Morgan makes her way back through the crowd, her mind reeling at what happened back there and what mess she got herself into.

---------------

She continued singing, her eyes accidentally meeting Poppy’s gaze again, her scowl was replaced by an unreadable expression, attention now focused solely on her and Morgan almost faltered. She breaks eye contact and stares at the back wall, ignoring the burning gaze upon her from those familiar eyes.

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

-----------------------

The sound of the door opening breaks Morgan out of her deep thoughts. She could see Poppy walking towards her with a sour expression, she's still wearing Morgan's coat.

“What happened to you?” Morgan’s warm hands reaching out to her, settling comfortably on her shoulder. Poppy stares at her hands, she pulls it away like she’s been burned.

“Just drive.” Poppy mumbles, trying hard to be composed but failing.

“Where to?” Morgan pretends not to notice Poppy's agitation, barely glancing at her so she won't feel uncomfortable. She unlocks her car slipping inside while Poppy stares at the abomination in front of her.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but your truck is… I don’t know how to say it without offending you? But maybe it could use a good wash? Like you drove through mud to get here. I don’t know, maybe we could go to a carwash, my treat.”

"That’s about the rudest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and you said a lot of insulting things before." Morgan rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t mean that Betty, you just got a little mud on you.” She murmurs quietly.

“You named your car… Betty?”

“What? No I didn’t.” Morgan could see Poppy’s amused smirk even in her periphery.

“You’re such a dork.” Poppy can’t help but laugh at her mortified expression.

Morgan distracts herself from the rapidly rising heat on her neck by fiddling with the radio before driving off. The sweet sound of the guitar filtered through the car and she smiles triumphantly, previous embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn't notice Poppy's expression soften.

Morgan drives her car through the carwash. They watched the water and the soap assault her car, the material of the brushes made a repetitive sound along with one of her favourite songs. Poppy had her seat leaned back, watching the machine rid the car of dust and mud. There was something mildly intimate about it, Morgan could move her right hand then they would be grazing Poppy’s, she could do it, she wanted to do it. But all she could manage was a slight twitch in her pinky, her hand doesn't move any closer.

“Do you ever feel like there’s a hundred people around you in a room, yet you feel alone?” Poppy breaks the silence, tilting her head slightly to the left to look at Morgan.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people may be looking at you yet feel as if their staring right through you, like your nothing. Oh! Like a ghost.” This makes Poppy chuckle.

“Yeah like that. It would have been easier if we were ghosts at least then you know why.”

“Did you feel like that back at the party?” Morgan wanted to say how that would have been impossible that no one could have seen her, she’s seeing her now. She wondered how could anyone ever take their eyes of her, she always seemed to be the brightest thing in any room she entered and now even in this dingy carwash she looked so radiant. How sometimes she thinks that she picks fights with her just for a chance to be bathed in her light. Thoughts she doesn't think would ever cross her mind trickled slowly and became a raging river. Now that she found herself here with her, without anything familiar to fall back on, anything just to distract herself out of her dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was easier to be alone than surrounded but feeling alone. Do you get it? At least I know, I chose to be alone.”

“I get it.” If she had the ability to say more she would have but these few pathetic words are all she could manage. This time her hand reaches to squeeze Poppy’s. A quiet comfort to reinforce her words, she understood.

“Thank you.”

Whatever atmosphere they created in that moment fell apart when Morgan had to move her car forward and exited the wash.

“Where to now?”

“Your turn to choose.” Poppy mumbles, still staring blankly outside.

“Okay, I know a place. You're gonna love it."

“I’m not going to let you pick anymore.” Poppy complains, standing in front a fluorescent lit diner. It almost glowed but in a weird way, like a bat signal for the weary.

“Hey! They make the best food.” Morgan steps forward and drags her companion along when she hesitated.

Warmth and the ambient sound of cutlery grazing the plates makes Morgan smile. She always came here when she’s feeling lonely, missing her parents, their farm or when she’s stressed from school, for trying to fit in like a robot.

“Come. Don’t just stand there.” Morgan looks back at Poppy, her breath caught in her throat. Poppy looked ethereal against the most basic place there ever is. If you said diners were some kind of portal to somewhere else she’d accept it and move on, for she looked like she existed out of place, alien, untouchable as she was beautiful. For the second time this day her gaze flickers to Poppy’s lips, she realizes that she’s saying something and Morgan’s mortified of being caught staring like a fool.

“What? Is something on my face?” Poppy is thankfully oblivious.

“No, it’s perfect.” Morgan quietly whispers while Poppy checks herself in the diner’s window, her words falling into deaf ears.

Morgan balls up pieces of her straw paper places it over some torn up tissues, stacked together. She’s fidgeting under Poppy’s presence; she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She's startled when Poppy lightly grasps her hands stopping it from tearing up another piece of paper. It’s been minutes of watching Morgan tear up even rectangles of several tissues, a girl could only take so much.

“You’re making a mess.” Poppy chastises her like a child. She would have laughed but Poppy still hasn’t let go of her hand, it’s making her blush like an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just that the food is taking a while huh?” Morgan stealthily tries to take her hand back but Poppy only holds it tighter. When they're not arguing, Morgan found that she doesn't know how else to act around her.

“Stop tearing paper like confetti.”

“Sorry.” Morgan sheepishly apologizes and Poppy lets go of her hand, hiding hers under the table, flexing it, she could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers.

The food arrives and Morgan smiles widely. Poppy stares, pretending she's interested in what food Morgan ordered. She admits to herself that for all the times she stared at her she never noticed how beautiful Morgan’s smile was. Arguing doesn't leave one space to insert a smile. It made her heart skip, imagining how it would be like if it was directed at her.

She almost misses Morgan stealing a fry off her plate. “Hey! If you wanted some you should have bought your own or at least politely asked.” Poppy mock glares at her companion, taking one of the crumpled balls and flicking it, hitting Morgan right between the eyes. They watched as the paper landed right into Morgan’s half empty milkshake glass.

"Your face!" Poppy laughs, wishing she could have captured it on camera.

Morgan found that she liked Poppy's laugh when it was genuine. “You better buy me another. You ruined mine.”

“What? It’s almost all gone anyway. All the needless calories you’re consuming will bite you in the ass someday.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Just have the rest of mine.” Poppy slides over her milkshake, Morgan grins and takes a sip right into Poppy’s straw. Poppy noticed first, eyes widening. Did She just… A revolting question crossed her mind, how would ‘Morgan’s lips feel like pressed to mine.’ Shes never felt jealous of a piece of plastic before in her life.

Morgan freezes when she realized what she’s done. She just had an indirect kiss with Poppy through the straw. “Sorry. I got excited.”

Poppy opens a new straw for her water, blowing the other end right into Morgans face, another bulls eye, she’s killing it. “Don’t overthink it.” She dismisses the act but her brain does summersaults inside her skull.

They finished eating, the last few of Poppy’s fries stolen right under her nose. She pretends she doesn’t see her sneaking a few of the fries away, she just lets her. Mind preoccupied with important things like Morgan’s lips.

------------------

Can’t sleep ‘cause I’m way too buzzed

Too late now you’re in my blood

I don’t hate the way you keep me up

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Even if she doesn't look or at least tries her hardest not to, she could feel Poppy's gaze on her, burning, willing her eyes to look back. There's something wildly intimate about singing a song to someone and in the sea of strangers you know it's just for them. No matter how many people sang it, to another, to themselves or just for the heck of it, the song only belongs to the person you made it for. Just for her. They could never feel the way she felt when she wrote it, how her feelings were entwined with every word.

In her periphery she could see Poppy stand and make excuses to her parents. She left, she didn't see where she went, she doesn't dare look anywhere near where she was, she's a coward like that. All she could feel is disappointment. It takes everything in her not to show it on her face. Was it too late to change her talent to stand up?

----------------------------------

"Come on Poppy, pick a place already. I've been driving around for hours! People will think we're stalking someone around here." Morgan whines in the driver seat taking yet another turn around the block.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes. You're such a baby." Poppy looks at her phone for any places that might still be open around this time. "Turn right, that's not right. Right! Not left."

"Great, now were going in circles. Pull over." Poppy grumbles.

"What?" Morgan looks confused for a moment but does what she’s told anyway, parking along the street.

"Get out." Poppy moves to exit the car.

"What are you..?"

"I'm not gonna hijack your car, just let me drive. You suck at following directions."

"...."

They switch seats, Morgan slumps and mopes in hers. Poppy fights back a smile.

“Would you look at that it only took 2 minutes.” Poppy smiles smugly.

“I did all the navigating you only had to turn once.” Morgan complains, getting out of the car and looking around the parking lot. “What the hell Poppy, a 711? You could have told me, I could have turned anywhere and found one.”

“Like hell you could. You don’t even know your left from your right.” Poppy laughs at Morgan’s offended expression. They walked in, shoulders brushing together and Morgan shivers, insisting to herself that it’s because it’s cold.

Poppy smiles, victoriously pulling out what they came here for out of the fridge.

“A freaking capri sun? We drove all the way here for that?” Morgan complains, ready to throttle Poppy. Though there’s something endearing in her expression, that proud smile for finding something she was looking for.

“Just go find something you want.” Poppy shoos her away, grabbing a few more pouches of juice. She shakes her head and walks off in search of snacks.

Morgan comes back with an armful of sweets and chips.

“We just ate. What are you doing? Take these back, I won't buy you all these.”

“You said something I like. I like them all. Come on aren't you rich?” Morgan dumps her haul in the counter, the cashier looking back and forth from them, looking for a sign that it’s okay to scan the items.

“Are you just an overgrown kid or what?”

“Pop, you just bought a juice in a pouch, you have no right to judge me.”

“Fine.”

Morgan carries three bags worth of snacks back to the car, Poppy not attempting to lift a finger just because she paid.

“Your turn. Pick a place.”

Minutes later they're on a cliff overlooking the city. Fading notes from a song playing in Morgan’s car filtered to the back.

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I don't suck at directions. You're the one that sucked at giving them.” Morgan says in self-defence. She unlatches the back so they could sit on it, holding Poppy’s waist, helping her up. If Poppy noticed her hands shake, she didn’t say anything. They sat closer together, leaning against the side. She could feel the cold seeping into her shirt, making her shiver. Poppy notices and moves to take Morgan's coat off.

“No. Keep it on.” Morgan stops her, cold hands over equally cold ones.

“But you're cold.”

“I'm not.” Morgan attempts to refute it but her hands are freezing.

“I can see your teeth chattering.”

“I like it on you.” She smiles softly.

“What?”

“I don't want you to be cold. Just take it, don’t be stubborn.”

“If you speak of this to anyone, I would personally kill you in your sleep.”

“Why would you do- oh.” Morgan stared in confusion, then realization.

Poppy moved to sit in the space between her legs, leaning her back into Morgan, taking her hands and wrapping them to her waist. Her hands rubbing over Morgan's freezing ones. To say that she was now warm was an understatement, she was burning from the blush that overtook her body.

“If you wanted to be near me so bad you could've just asked.” Morgan grins, chin propped on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy huffs and attempts to get up. Morgan's arms stop her, wrapping tighter, keeping her in place. “Don't move, I might freeze to death.”

“That's what I thought.”

They had a toast with the Capri sun pouches, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. They sat there talking for hours, the company was too enjoyable to give in to exhaustion or cold.

From the time they were talking Poppy shifted her position, now sitting on Morgan's lap, staring up at her while she told a story about their farm animals, making her scrunch her nose in disgust at one of her retellings.

They stared at the sky surprised to see the day chasing the night away. How long have they been talking? Morgan looks at her phone and even more surprised that it's nearly 6am. Time went by so fast.

“I always wanted to see the sunrise from here. Thanks for the company.” Morgan smiles softly, running her fingers through her hair to distract herself from Poppy.

No one mentioned how one of their hands are still interlaced together or how Morgan's thumb drew circles on the back. Especially not Poppy's lips softly grazing the underside of her jaw.

They watched in silence, both aware that as the night was done, so will this new moment they found together.

“I'll take you to back to your dorm.” Morgan reluctantly says, unwilling to move. It was Poppy who moved off her first.

Morgan slides off the back of her truck smirking at Poppy. “Want a piggy back ride?”

Poppy scoffs. But positions herself anyway, her arms wrapped on Morgan's shoulders, Morgan's hands holding her legs securely as she closes the small distance to the front of her car.

They drove back in silence, neither speaking of the moment, afraid it will be over soon.

Morgan stops her car in front of Poppy’s sorority house, tapping her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. No one talked nor moved for a minute or two, they just stared at each other feeling the change in whatever relationship they previously held. Poppy’s alarm goes off, effectively ruining their moment.

“I guess... I'll see you later. Good Morning, Poppy.” Morgan smiles softly, hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles going white, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ll… see you later. Thank you for driving me around.” They both know they will see each other but not in the same capacity as tonight, they will be back to being rivals, enemies, whatever the school made them out to be. She could see Poppy fighting a losing battle against herself before she reached out and kissed the corner of Morgan's mouth. She turns away like nothing happened and exits the car without looking back.

-------------------

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Morgan stands and bows to the applause, yet she felt empty. It all felt useless somehow, she wasn't even there to hear the rest of it. She makes her way backstage, turning the corner as the next talent comes up. She felt like running but before she could turn and walk away, Poppy pushes herself off the wall and approached her. She gulped, unsure of what to do.

“Your voice is very beautiful.” Poppy tells her, voice almost as soft as a whisper. She's searching Morgan’s terrified eyes for something. “The song, did you write it?” She asks all the while moving closer, hands fiddling with the lapel of Morgan’s suit.

All she could do is nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She takes a step back and another and another until her back is against the wall but Poppy follows her every step. Thank god they seemed alone or she would have burst into flames in embarrassment. Poppy steps closer until their bodies are almost touching.

“Who did you write that song for?”

“I...”

“Tell me.” Poppy looks up almost pleading, wanting to hear what she hoped to.

“It’s for you.” Morgan presses herself even more to the wall, wishing it would just swallow her up. She closes her eyes but it flies open when she heard Poppy gasp. “Are you surprised or?” Morgan trails off, observing Poppy’s expression going from astonished, to happy and outright tearing up.

“I can’t believe you wrote that song for me, I thought that there was someone else.” Poppy breathes in relief, Morgan’s hands wrap around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Just you.” Morgan says breathlessly. Watching her break into a smile made all the nerves she had vanish. She pulls her into a tight hug, smiling when she feels Poppy sink into the embrace. Her head leans on her shoulder and she rests her cheek on her hair. Poppy pulls back and smiles before leanig up and kissing Morgan.

#poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #fanfic #we dont hava capri sun only zesto #one shot #please go easy on me whoever reads

60 notes · View notes

lazy-alex · 3 years

Text

FADE AWAY

Fade away

PROMPT- "light" | Day 10 | ROMANTIC

Jasonette July 2021

MASTERPOST

Jason Todd dropped everything as soon as he heard the call.

Marinette- his Marinette- is on the hospital. She was found lying on her apartment; unconscious. Her neighbor found her and called the ambulance.

She's in the ICU, in critical condition.

Jason's motorcycle can be heard speeding trough Gotham streets. He didn't care if he's breaking speed limits. He needs to be by her side right now, like how she's there when his life is dark.

Just like how her smile lights up his world everytime he seed it. Even her presence can light up a whole room. Her beautiful dark blue hair and bluebell eyes, and those tiny stars on her face.

His light to his darkness.

Jason made his motorcycle move faster.

Fuck.

He might just not see that smile again.

When Jason arrived at her door, he noticed that there are many people outside. From their clothing, Jason could guess that they're doctors and nurses. They seemed to be talking. Jason's footsteps interrupting their conversation.

Why the heck are there so many?

Jason approached the group of people. A doctor (or nurse?) noticed him. "Mr. Jason Harper?" he asked.

Right- Jason Todd is legally dead. Smart.

"Yea, that's me," After hearing that, almost all of them deflated. Jason raised his eyebrows, secretly worried on the problem. "What's wrong with her?"

They all looked into each other, deciding what to say.

One short female stepped forward to answer his question. "We tried everything we could. We couldn't find the reason." She lowered her head, refusing to look into his eyes. "We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't fucking know?!" Jason shouted, anger in his voice. They flinched away in fear.

"Jason," a hand rested on his shoulder. Jason turned around to be faced with Dr. Leslie. Jason calmed a little bit to the familiar face. "why don't we go inside?"

Jason nodded, wanting to see his girlfriend.

The room is dark, Jason observed as he stepped inside. The only light source is a small lamp beside her bed and the window.

Marinette's sleeping figure lay on the bed; a bunch of tubes connected to her body. The machines helping and monitoring her have slight beeping noises.

Jason's heart hurt at the sight. His features immediately soften at the sight of his pixie.

"Jason," he turned around at the call of his name. His eyes met the sad ones of Leslie's. "I know you're not going to like this, so I'm gonna be straightforward. Jason, she's only got a few hours to live. I'm sorry."

Tears started to form in Jason's eyes, he pushed them back. He slowly moved towards her.

"No..." Not my Pixie... Not my light..

Leslie went to the door. "I'll leave her with you," A click sounded in the room; indicating that the door is shut.

"Mari... Pixie..." He whispered as he sat on her bedside; stroking her hair.

Marinette opened her beautiful bluebell eyes. "Mhhmm... Jay?"

"Shhh.. I got you," Jason kissed the back of her hand while holding it.

"You're crying." She pointed her finger to the tears on his cheek. Marinette tried to wipe it; but she didn't have the energy to do it.

Jason just wiped it himself and shook his head. "And you're fucking dying."

Marinette just smiled sadly. "I know,"

"Why didn't you tell me Pixie?"

"You didn't ask," he did. Plenty of times, but she always said she's fine. Jason knew she was lying. But he also knew Marinette wouldn't do it without a reason. So he let it slide.

He wished he didn't.

"Mari- tell me what's wrong." Marinette just looked away.

"It's not like I'm important anyway,"

He softened at her words, "You are important to me Mari- Heck- You're important to everyone." He paused. "So please, please tell me what's wrong."

Marinette turned to face him; tears are falling onto her cheeks.

"I knew this was coming Jay," she sobbed. "I- I knew this day would come, so I tried not to get attached," she laughed lifelessly. "But look at us now. I can't go, not now. I can't leave you Jay..."

At this point both of them are sobbing.

"Then tell me how to fix this, I'm sure Bruce can find a way!" Jason held her hand and squeezed it. "Pixie, please, tell me there's a way..."

Marinette just shook her head, "There's none, this is a price for something I did. The Miraculous is all about balance, we can't stop this. Even if we do find a way, fate will find more ways to fix the balance. Chances are high that it will be worse than this, I- I can't let that happen Jay..."

"Fuck Mari-" Jason put his hands to his face. "-now I can't stop crying."

Marinette laughed, a sad laugh.

The room became silent after that. It was them savoring each other's presence. They know that they couldn't do anything. They couldn't fight fate. They just need to face it. Jason didn't know if he could survive this; her gone. He needed her, just like how she needed him. He doesn't want to loose his light.

It was Marinette that broke the silence.

"I know you Jay, you can get trough this," she laid her hand on top of his. "You are the strongest person I know."

Jason just looked at her, so she continued talking.

"Don't give up even when I'm gone. I will always be in your memories. Make sure to treasure them," Jason laughed at her statement. She just smiled. "I want you to think that I never left your side, a part of me will stay forever in you. I don't want you to turn off the fire when there's still fuel left."

"I wont." she nodded.

"Be happy Jay, don't stop because of me." she took a deep breath. "Promise me Jay, that you'll keep living. That you won't stop."

Jason poured all his feelings in these few words. "I promise, with all my heart." he meant it.

Marinette smiled, a genuine smile. It seemed to make the dark room a little bit brighter.

"Good,"

And with those last words, Jason saw the light fade from her eyes.

Oops! Got a little longer than intended. (Seriously, this was supposed to be 300+ words. How the heck did it turn into 1012 words?) I really enjoyed making this. I've been planning this for a long time. And I loved writing this.

How it turned into angst: *me finding a sad song and replaying it on loop*

@jasonette-july-event

(Late post haha, blame the almost 24hour no electricity. My battery died after my last post. ;-; )

#Jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette july 2021 #O.o #maribat #late post #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #Sorry not sorry

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 3 years

Text

First Aid

Pairing: Jaeden x Evans!reader

Summary: Jaeden gets his heart broken. You’re the one who picks up the pieces. Inspiration: this video with Jaeden to Gus Dapperton’s song First Aid.

“Hey, have you seen Jae?” You asked your dad after making another loop around the first floor of the house. Your dad, pouring another beer for himself, shook his head and shrugged, glancing around the room.

“He was talking to Jordan a minute ago, he took a call. Maybe he’s outside?” Your dad suggested. You nodded and went to try to find him, but he wasn’t outside, either. Then you realized he could have gone upstairs, where it was quiet, and walked around.

You finally found him talking on the phone in the red LED lights in your hall bathroom, and even though you knew you shouldn’t, you listened.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked in a defensive tone. You knew him well enough to know that he was about to cry from the sound of his voice. “I’m not cheating on you! What the fuck? Why would you ever think I would do that to you? Why would you think I’m that person?”

“Then who is she?” You heard the other voice ask. It was his girlfriend. His long distance girlfriend, who you’d only met once or twice as she came to visit. She was awful to him, borderline emotionally abusive actually, but you had always just kept your mouth shut because he seemed happy. Seemed.

“She’s my co-star’s daughter,” he answered. He angrily stuck a hand in his pocket. “And she’s my best friend. And if you can’t handle that...”

“The girl best friend. Great move, Jae. You know what? I’m just so done with you. I shouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place. I knew you’d cheat on me, it was just a matter of time.”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” He said loudly. You jumped at the sound of his voice. “God, fuck, you know that. But you’re right. I don’t want to be with someone who can’t trust me.”

“Fine, then we’re done,” the girl said. She hung up the phone and a dial tone swept through the almost empty bathroom. You heard Jaeden sigh and you heard the unmistakeable sound of the phone slapping against the bathroom counter. Jaeden sniffled, muttering another fuck under his breath.

“Who’s out there?” He asked finally. You walked a few feet into the doorway and sighed, nodding before he could even ask if you’d heard him. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything,” you responded. “I’m sorry.” He let out a huff as he realized he’d hit his phone hard enough to crack the screen protector. You watched as he retreated into himself, walking over to the tub and sitting down inside. It still smelled like your lavender body wash and a little bit like the vanilla and patchouli candle you’d lit in there earlier. The smells was comforting to him - you were comforting to him.

“No, it’s...” He sniffled. “She wasn’t wrong, I guess.” You tilted your head a little, curious, and shut the door behind you. You locked it, too, and put your own phone on top of his on the counter. You turned and got into the tub, too, sitting down beside him. You sat a little far from him, but close enough that your shoulders were touching.

“But you weren’t cheating on her?” You half asked, half told him.

“Not outright, but emotionally, I guess, I’ve been super distant and she knew that and she wasn’t wrong. I should’ve broken up with her before this happened. I feel like such a shitty person.”

“Yeah, but it took that conversation to realize it,” you shrugged.

“I was all but cheating on her,” he said in a shaky voice. He shifted a little and put his head on your shoulder, crossing his arms against his chest. You braced yourself, squeezing your thumb in your fist until he let out a single sob. You released your thumb after that, feeling one of his tears drop onto the sleeve of your shirt. You sat there with him as he cried it all out. It was maybe ten or fifteen minutes and you didn’t say a single word. You just reached one of your hands to his back and rubbed it up and down, trying to make him feel a little better.

“I feel like such a piece of shit,” he finally sniffled. “Like, I was basically doing what she said, I was basically cheating on her, and I promised... I always promised myself I could never, ever do that to anyone. And I did.”

“With who?” He didn’t answer for a second, but he looked up at you and you knew. He didn’t have to say anything, but he did.

“You,” he said as he blinked back more tears.

“What?” You were in shock; it was like the world closed in on you for a second before the flood gates opened again and let in everything you’d ever felt about him, and you realized that yeah. You two were...

“Tell me you don’t feel like we’re closer than we should be,” he said. “I’ve literally slept in your bed. You call me every time you get home from my place because you know that I’ll freak out if you don’t tell me you got home safe. You literally buy me coffee all the time, we... We’ve cuddled a million times.”

“Not since you’ve been with her, because that would be...”

“Actually cheating.”

“But we haven’t.”

“But we may as well because I’ve literally felt the way I should feel about her for you. It’s you. It’s always been you and I don’t know whether I’m just seeing that now or I’ve known for a while, but I am, and I have, and... I’m not making any sense.” His voice trailed off. “And you’re sitting with me in a bathroom in the tub because I’m crying.”

“Friends...”

“Friends don’t look at each other the way I know we do.” Your hand stopped on his back and he sat up, looking at you for the first time that night. He was right - friends don’t look at each other the way he was looking at you and you knew you were looking at him. Another tear fell from his cheek and you wiped it away without a single second thought. At the same time, he moved toward you and your hand anchored itself on his cheek.

He kissed you. His skin was baby soft underneath your hand. His lips had ridges in them because of the salty snacks he’d eaten a few minutes ago. But you kissed him back, pulling him lightly toward you as your fingers moved on his cheek. You felt a tear as salty as his lips on the tip of your finger. And then you realized what you were doing and you pulled away, leaving him more confused than ever.

“Jae,” you muttered. “You’re so messed up right now. Are you sure you’re even...”

“Yes, I’m serious,” he cut you off. “Are you?” You nodded.

“Yes, but... We shouldn’t do this right now.”

“You’re right.” You removed your hand from his cheek and put it on his shoulder, looking at him in the red lights. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. We should talk.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded. “I’ll, um, leave first.” You stood up, sniffling, not realizing you had been about to cry too. You walked out of the bathroom after grabbing your phone and went across the hall to your room. Your face was hot from the kiss, your hand still shaking. You sat in your room for the rest of the night, resisting the urge to text your best friend.

The next morning came and he picked you up, as promised, knowing that you always woke up early on Saturdays because you were used to waking up early during the week. The cold bit at your cheeks and your nose and your ears as you sat with him outside of the coffee shop in downtown Boston that you’d showed him when you first met. You didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t either. He ran his hand through his platinum-dyed hair and sniffled, wiping his runny nose with his jacket sleeve.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “That was a lot to put on you.”

“You weren’t wrong, though,” you responded. He didn’t say anything right away. Instead he put his arm behind your shoulder, sighing and crossing one of his legs over the other.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. And I shouldn’t have made you...”

“I kissed you back, Jaeden, what don’t you get about that?” You snapped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right. You did kiss me back. So our friendship is effectively ruined.” That made you smile a little bit - the first time you beat his ass in Mario Kart he’d said the same thing.

“How ruined?” You asked. He took a second.

“Bad enough that all I can think about is kissing you again.” You smiled, and so did he. “Bad enough that I know you’re the one I want to be with, and I was lying to my ex and myself by thinking you weren’t.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. She’s not mad, she’s just...”

“Hurt?” Jaeden nodded.

“But she said she knew, too.”

“I think I did. Somewhere,” you said as you remembered the shaky, almost puppy-wag feeling you got whenever Jaeden walked in the room. “So what are we gonna do?”

“I was thinking maybe I could beat your ass in Mario Kart. And then we can do this the right way and go out or something?” You grinned.

“Yeah. I’d like that. But you know I’m gonna beat you, right?” He chuckled, warmth returning to his cheeks and his eyes as he broke into a smile.

“Never.”

#jaeden martell x evans!reader #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell fluff #jaeden martell angst #jaeden x evans!reader

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