#okay editing tags because this got notes:
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Cowboy Casanova
Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.
Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader
Word Count: 4123
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things
A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.
“You’re staring,”
“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.
He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”
“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.
Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”
“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”
Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”
“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that.
Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.
“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“You own, like, a dozen cows.”
“There are three dozen of them, actually.”
“That’s not the point that you think it is.”
He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”
“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.
“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”
“Uh, I’ll call you.”
“What if I’m not available?”
“Why wouldn’t you be available?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.
“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”
“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.
“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.
He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”
“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”
“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”
You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”
You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”
“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”
“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”
“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.
He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.
Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.
Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”
He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.
After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.
“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.
Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.
“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.
Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.
This, however, is new.
“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.
“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”
You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.
“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.
He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.
And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.
“Alright.”
You blink at him, “Alright?”
“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”
You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”
“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”
“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”
He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”
“-more fun then you getting tied up?”
His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”
“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.
“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”
“-if. If I lose-”
His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”
“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.
“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”
Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”
“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”
And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”
Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.
He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.
You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”
His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”
You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.
“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.
“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”
“I can leave you know.”
He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.
You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.
He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.
Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.
Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.
He’s gorgeous.
But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.
You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”
“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.
“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”
“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”
He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”
“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.
His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”
Damn him for being right.
“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”
He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”
“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.
Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”
Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”
Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.
You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.
“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.
“That color does look amazing against your skin.”
He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”
You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.
Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”
“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.
His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”
Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.
You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.
Almost.
He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.
He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.
“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.
You shake your head, “I can still win.”
He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”
“That-”
“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.
Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.
His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your lips turn down into a small pout.
“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”
You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”
“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”
You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.
Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”
“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”
“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”
He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.
And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.
Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.
And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.
“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”
Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.
Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”
You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.
What he’s expecting to hear.
Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”
Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“Safe word or color?”
Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”
He hums, “What color are you?”
“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”
For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”
“When I want to.”
“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”
You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.
“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”
“Punish?” You ask.
He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”
“I understand,”
“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”
That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly
You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.
He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.
His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.
And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.
The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.
Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.
He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.
He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.
The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.
And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.
You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”
“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”
“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.
“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.
“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”
For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”
“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.
“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.
And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.
#star wars#tcw#star wars au#commander bacara x reader#bacara x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#18+ fic#nsft
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god fucking damnit. i woke up from a nightmare this morning and just immediately broke down sobbing. sometimes i cry after a nightmare (because they’re literally all about the people i love suddenly being indifferent/cruel to me), but i still feel like i could start crying again any second
#and then i texted my brother and just asked him to tell me he loves me#like just a little reassurance#and he sent me back ‘lol my partner gets those same dreams’#i finally get all the women i know#i told him exactly what to say and he still fucked it up#seriously is there like a filter on some people’s brains that just doesn’t see a request like that#okay editing tags because this got notes:#my brother is awesome#he’s my best friend and he’s only 23 so he’s like a baby#(i know 23 is an adult but he’s five and a half years younger than me and the baby of our family)#he is also like 6’6 or something#he towers over us all but especially our sister (the oldest)#we go backwards in height vs. age
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Path Choice: Hunt
||Long overdue thoughts regarding how DH obtains his paths and what it means to him. I did want to like write a drabble about it, but now have this short summary of my thoughts.
The Hunt
Initially, Dan Heng followed The Hunt because he feels like he should. Ever since he was born, he was educated of Dan Feng life and crimes (or more like drilled it into his head). Because he is Dan Feng reincarnation, Dan Heng had to bear his punishment.
By following the Path of the Hunt, the Reignbow Arbitor, Dan Heng feels that "he" (Dan Feng) can find redemption- forgiveness for his sins. That way, Dan Heng won't be haunted by that man past anymore.
There is some idea that Dan Heng met Lan in a dream before he was sentenced to banishment. Unable to recognize the vast space around him, he sees a shooting star moving too fast for his eyes to follow: Beautiful but terrifying. All he hears, as arrows of light descends toward him, are along the lines of: "A Scion of Permanence? The Azure Dragon who attempted to drag the Stars into the ancient sea. Very well. If you seek to redeem your crimes, then take my arrows and vow to annihilate all of Yaoshi spawns in your path."
Then Dan Heng wakes up, confused about his dream. He had no time to decipher it when he's escorted out of the Luofu; exiled. The first signs of Lan blessing are subtle:
The first signs of wind gathering in the palm of his hand (a gift to hide the waters running down his veins)
The confidence he feels unflinching in the face of danger as he wields his spear.
The whispers in the back of his mind (Dan Feng? Lan? Who?) that guides him how to keep his footsteps quiet, to find weaknesses against his opponents, and know when to retreat/fight.
But upon his first meeting with Blade as they clashed, Dan Heng realizes the impact of Lan blessings. The single-minded focus he had, his defenses shifting to pure offensive, and the aggressiveness in his strikes he never had before all because of Blade as his enemy. The fury and hate that tastes like bile in his throat does not belong to him.
It belongs to Lan, and it is Lan that controls him at this moment.
Dan Heng hates it. He hates it even more when he feels something else fighting within him- Permanence, Dan Feng maybe. Struggling to keep Lan power at bay, forcing Dan Heng to stagger in his movements and slow (barely avoiding the lethal strikes of Blade).
Oh, Dan Heng is sick to his core that he has no control at the moment. He hates the feeling that he is never free, even in his own body he has no autonomy.
The first time he stabs Blade in the heart, Dan Heng finally feels like himself. He throws up, the whispers in the back of his mind slowly fading. He believes it was Lan at the moment, but the many times after that...
Dan Heng only slayed Blade if the situation is necessary, and it was within his own choice. In a way, he feels like Lan is watching nearby and mocking him.
The thing is, an Aeon's blessing is also a curse for Dan Heng, he was unaware at the time that the beast he killed many times is the same man his previous incarnation, Dan Feng, dearly loves.
And remember, Lan only requirement for Dan Heng in exchange for his blessings (and allowing him to follow his path) is simple: Annihilate Yaoshi spawns in his path. :)))
Inspired by @everlastiingiimmortals and their amazing Jing Yuan Erudition Path HC's. >:333
#the guard of the express (dan heng)#lotus moon blooming from mud (il dan heng)#jade personal headcanons#||I will do Destruction Path later#||This is a hot mess. I was suppose to do a decent summary.#||I will go back and edit this later#||Remove some tidbits here and there that don't make sense#||I am sleepy#||Willow I still love your Jing Yuan HC's of how he got Nous attention and the impact it had on his life...In all the bad ways. :DDD#||This is long overdue zzzzz#||I also need to decide Dan Feng Path too#||Hints of XingYue#||Okay I was going to add that Dan Heng does love the Luofu despite the shit that happens to him but he considers teh Astral Express#||His home now#||As I wrote the “Follow teh Hunt as a path to redemption” thing#||I really went ahead and be like hehe punishment for Dan Feng where Dan Heng ends up taking that punishment too#||Note Dan Heng absolutely feels like shit because he's not sure if he's in control or something else is which#||adds to his fear when he starts to come to terms that he cannot escape Dan Feng past; that he won' be himself anymore but someone else#||OKay I shut up here now before the tags are filled with more rambles
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can you make and edit of nepeta and give her chihiro fujisakis outfit?,?! preferably a hs panel but sprites r fine too
yes :>
-mod davesprite
#mod davesprite#homestuck panel edit#homestuck#nepete leijon#btw whatever chihiros deal w gender is the exact same as mine ive decided. this is NOT an invitation to tell me abt their gender#soooo anyway adhd appt#hang on i gotta go Consult My Notes because approximately one million Bad Doctorings occured#okay so first off. doctor asked if i had depression. i wobbled back and forth and eventually said probably no (lie). she responded#''thats what i thought you dont seem like the glum type'' HELLO???#super cool and normal. anyway then we got to the actual adhd part#she kept asking what i do in a day since i dont do school and dont work and like .... yeah thats the issue? nothing?#and she seemed to be TOTALLY clueless what to ask when i did neither of those things. never asked abt my hobbies or chor3s or personal life#sorry abt my new typing quirk btw the new phone keyboards weird#anyway she asked Only about how i did in school. which like...well? but i made it clear i could Not focus.#never read textbooks or watched lectures or listen3d to the teacher etc etc#hmmm ill split this to a part two i think im near the tag limit and im only halfway througu
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if this gets 3.35k notes then i'll try to work some more on editing my book, i'll befriend the trans student teacher, i'll practice more art, and i'll try to find out who i am.
no one is gonna see this and i doubt this will reach 3k
not tagging anyone because people are scary
deadline: march first (@cannedworma's birthday :3)
edit: okay guys we got to the number
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Things I'm noticing on rewatch
Aziraphale knows how reproduction works (and realizes you need a pair) because (unlike Crowley, rip unicorns) he saw the human design plans, if maybe didn't directly work on them. Presumably there are other angels who know, it's a good thing that none of them were tagging along for the whole Job bit. Or maybe they just didn't want to contradict Gabriel.
The "this way up" sign on the box is so cheeky. Aziraphale and Crowley could've solved the whole mystery if they'd just ignored the rules and upended the system box, but there's still part of them (esp. Aziraphale) still instinctively following the rules.
Literally the first thing they say to each other in the present sets up their entire season conflict of not communicating properly, while being hidden in a joke. *groans loudly*
okay wait did we figure out what the deal was with this getting so specifically highlighted?? I've tried looking up the passage and I am.. still pretty baffled. Other than the obvious connection to Crowley being about to explode in a few minutes.
Edit: There's a theory I like quite a lot here, though still open to other interpretations if you've got em!
Crowley opening the door for Aziraphale and Nina staring in fascination is SO funny. She's just dying to know what tf is going on there.
Originally overlooked this bc it's not his usual coy heart eyes, but this is an Ask from Aziraphale. Aziraphale glances to Jim and back like, Well I'm not doing that.... and Crowley gets the message that this is (at least partially) why he's here, to be the demon and not the nice one.
Really can't get over the walls matching Crowley's eyes. You can't leave this bookshop indeed.
Despite the fact that Crowley is storming out of here so angry that he will literally explode in about 60 seconds, he does not slam the door. It's not the bookshop's fault / he really is trying to control his temper / he doesn't want to leave things on that final of a note / choose your interpretation.
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Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith
dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader
(AU where the apocalypse never happened)
Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.
Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging
Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)
Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances
Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.
Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.
And that's how you got here.
You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.
"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."
Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.
"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.
You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.
"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.
The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.
"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.
"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."
"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.
"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."
"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.
"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.
"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.
Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.
"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.
He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"
You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.
"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."
"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.
You laugh softly under your breath at his response.
"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.
The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.
The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.
"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."
A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."
"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"
Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.
"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?
Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.
"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.
Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.
You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.
"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."
You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.
"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"
"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.
The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.
You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.
"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.
"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.
You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.
"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.
"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.
The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.
"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.
He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.
You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.
"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."
"Feel like watching it again?"
You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.
"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."
"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."
You laugh at him. "I feel you."
You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.
When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.
You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.
All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.
"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.
You look over to the television and see a black screen.
"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.
What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.
"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."
"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."
"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."
The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.
"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.
"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"
A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.
You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.
His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?
He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.
You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.
You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.
"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."
"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.
"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.
Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.
His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.
As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.
You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.
You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.
Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.
"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.
He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.
"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.
"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.
He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.
Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.
Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.
"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.
"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."
As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.
He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.
He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.
"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.
Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.
You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.
"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.
"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.
He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.
He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.
He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.
"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"
"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.
You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.
Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.
Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.
Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.
"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.
He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.
"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."
"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.
You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.
"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.
"Do you want to?" He counters.
"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"
"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."
You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"
He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.
"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.
"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.
"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.
Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.
"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.
"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."
He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.
"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."
Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.
His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.
"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.
"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.
"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."
"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."
His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.
He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.
"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.
"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.
Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.
He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.
Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.
You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.
Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.
"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.
"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."
You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.
To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.
"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."
Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.
Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.
"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.
He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.
You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.
"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."
Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.
Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.
The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.
Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.
"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.
"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.
#negan fic#negan x reader#negan twd#negan smut#negan smith#the walking dead fanfiction#jeffrey dean morgan smut#jeffrey dean morgan#negan smith smut
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First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader
Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox
Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner.
Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it
“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.
“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.
“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.
“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.
“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it.
The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.
“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”
“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.
As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.
“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile.
“Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.
“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.
“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.
Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out
“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.
“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition.
He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely
“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.
“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do.
“Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.
“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand
“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.
Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold.
“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.
“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do.
“- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face.
“You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.
“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking
“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.
“I’d love to.”
“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.
“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.
“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence.
“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.
#eddie munson#eddie x you#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie fics#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things fluff#eddie imagine#eddie munson imagine
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title taken ✧*
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?
word count: 3.8K
notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!
warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!
notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation
P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!
You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.
You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.
“Am I gonna die a virgin?”
It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.
The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.
But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.
“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.
“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.
“Are you really a virgin?”
The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.
“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.
But because he had a crush on you already.
No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.
His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.
You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.
Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.
The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.
“Do you want me to help with that?”
Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”
You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”
Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.
“Yes.”
Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.
His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.
“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.
You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”
Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.
“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”
“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.
The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.
He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.
“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.
You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.
His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.
His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.
He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.
“Can I?” He licked his lips.
“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.
He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.
He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.
“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.
“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”
“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.
He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.
His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”
You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”
He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.
“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.
His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.
Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.
An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.
“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.
“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”
You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”
He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.
You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.
“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.
You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”
He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.
“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”
He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.
You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.
“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…
You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.
He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.
His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.
“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.
“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”
You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.
You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”
He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.
“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”
“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.
“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.
“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.
Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.
He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.
“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.
He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.
“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.
“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.
Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.
You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.
His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.
“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”
“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.
Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.
[chadmeister]: jesus christ
[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done
[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know
[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two
[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN
tag list <3
@kometqh
#aster writes scream#ethanmath#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x fem!reader#ethan landry smut#ethan landry writing#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fic#ethan landry fan fic#scream 2023#scream VI#scream 6#scream 6 fic#ethan landry scream 6#ethan landry scream#ethan kirsch
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—seven days. [ iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.
masterlist.
you: *sent a link*
him: ?
him: what's this
you: benefits of crying
you: read it it's enlightening
him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay
you: why crying helps.
you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.
you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.
you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.
you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.
him: it feels like an std
you: pussy
you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.
you: you may look fine now but i know you
him: please stop
you: no
you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.
him: what even is that
you: the parasympathetic nervous system
him: ??
you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school
you: education is important yknow
you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence
him: fuck you im smart
you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography
you: you probably can't do your taxes
him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default
him: the american system is just weird
you: cant argue w/ u there
you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance
you: see? you need that
you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy
him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now
you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?
You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.
In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.
You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?
Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?
Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.
You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.
You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.
Max Max Max Super Max Max—
“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”
Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.
“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”
He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.
You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.
The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.
“Max, sweetheart, you there?”
No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.
Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.
“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.
Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.
This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.
Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.
When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.
Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.
“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.
Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”
You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.
“Max—”
“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”
What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.
You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.
“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.
“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.
“They’re mismatched.”
Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.
“Ignore them.”
Silence.
“You good now?”
“No.”
“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”
“Okay.”
Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.
“Thank you, by the way.”
“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.
“For coming here.”
You shrug.
“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”
Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.
“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”
He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.
You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.
After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.
You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.
The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.
Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.
You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.
The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.
The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.
Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.
You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.
“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”
But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.
The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.
“We should drink,” you suggest.
“It’s mid-afternoon.”
“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”
He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.
“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”
Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.
Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.
Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.
At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.
Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.
“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.
“Hm?”
“That it was unfair for her.”
You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”
“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”
You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.
“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”
Kelly….what the fuck?
“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”
“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.
Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.
“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”
#manager!reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula one#fanfic#angst#mv1#mv33 x reader#mv33
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Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?
idia shroud x f!reader
[tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive
[wc} – 3, 241
prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.”
notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men
a floral inconvenience
According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart.
Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine.
He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic?
“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”
Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder.
“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”
Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”
Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough.
“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck.
“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone.
His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress.
“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”
Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk.
Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—
“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head.
“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance.
“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”
Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave.
“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!”
The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves.
“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.”
Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight.
“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.”
Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck.
The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair.
“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”
“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”
“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”
“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”
Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…”
“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”
He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.
“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”
Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”
A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals.
“Idia!”
“Big Brother!”
“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”
Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid.
“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again.
“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”
“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”
Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.
“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”
Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple.
“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”
Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”
“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.
“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”
Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued.
“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”
“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth.
“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots.
“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”
“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”
“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.
“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”
The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers.
“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”
“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?”
“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!”
Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach.
“Idia?”
“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”
“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”
He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose.
Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right.
“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression.
He hummed in response.
“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”
He hummed again.
“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”
“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice.
You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”
“...So?”
“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.
“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you.
"Why don't you just confess?"
“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”
“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”
“But I like you!”
Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”
“Huh.”
“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”
Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly.
“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”
Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—
“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”
“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know.
“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair.
“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”
It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.
“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”
A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation.
You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest.
Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas.
He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.”
You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?”
“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”
“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?
Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red.
“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”
You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.
“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”
Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”
“You say things like that all the time!”
The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#idia shroud#twst idia#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#twst idia x reader#suggestive#a floral inconvenience
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The adventures of Eddie Munson, jerk
Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge January 2024 edition
Prompt: hole, 404 words
Rated: T
Tags: modern AU; meet cute; HOH Steve Harrington; Eddie "foot in mouth" Munson; Eddie being a horny shit
Notes: based on this idea I posted a while ago. I'd link it, but alas, the tumblr search function sucks. I'll add it when I find it I guess. (Edit: found it!)
Ping.
Eddie's about to commit homicide in an airport terminal. Walk over to that asshole with the laptop and throttle him with the cord. Bury him in a shallow hole, chuck his beeping hell machine right-
Okay, breathe.
He's overreacting. The guy's an inconsiderate jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to be murdered. Eddie's just a bit on edge ‘cause he got up at ass o'clock and now his flight is delayed and his neck is hurting from the plastic chairs and his phone is dying and-
Ping.
Okay, that's it.
Eddie stomps over, propelled by rage and too many energy drinks.
“Hey, asshole!”
Laptop jerk just continues typing. So he thinks he can ignore him, huh? Eddie reaches him just as the laptop dings again, grabs him by the shoulder.
“Hey, dickhead, I'm talking to you.”
Laptop jerk flinches so hard he nearly sends his device flying, head whipping up and-
-shit, he's cute. Big, hazel eyes full of shocked confusion under a swoop of chestnut hair. Perfect, pouty lips parted in surprise. Eddie has a sudden impulse to wrap a hand around the curve of that throat, drop his voice, tell him to say sorry like a good boy.
Which would be … wildly inappropriate.
“Listen,” he says instead. “Your beeping is annoying the living hell outta me, so-”
Something is pressed into his hand. Something rectangular and plasticy, like a business card.
“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, lifts it so that he can read what it says.
Hi, I'm Steve. I'm hard of hearing.
Wait, what?
Eddie's eyes flit back to laptop jerk's face. He's smiling, but there's a distinct undercurrent of confusion and concern. Like he doesn’t know why Eddie's so angry, which is true of course, because he can't fucking hear, has no idea what he did wrong and fuuuuck, who's the jerk now?
That shallow hole still sounds tempting, just for entirely different reasons.
“Erm, it's just …” he starts, more slowly now, those pretty eyes following the movement of his lips. “I've been wondering if maybe …”
Steve tilts his head.
"... you'd wanna have coffee? My flight's delayed and-”
If the curl of Steve's mouth is anything to go by, he knows exactly that this isn't what he wanted to say.
He nods anyway.
By the time Eddie’s flight lifts off, his phone is dead, but there's a sticky note with a number tucked into his pocket.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficjanuary#hoh steve harrington#hype's microfics
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i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." | jungkook x f!reader
summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: fluff, angst, crack, idiots [i say that with luv for my characters]
word count: 17.2k
tags/warnings: a child [Mai] is present throughout the entire story, implication of absent birth mother, serial dater JK, so much pining, pg language, conversation about sleeping around/risking pregnancy, legal-aged drinking & getting drunk, hurtful words/heated argument, isolation, blurb about reader struggling to eat, Mai experiences anxiety [I promise she is okay], plethora of cheesy occurrences, much fluff & angst all because sowoozoo-muster-JK wrecked me
series mlist
this is a repost from my old blog, moon-write.
Thank you to the realest one, @hyungieyoongi, for not only wanting to beta-read this insanity for me when I initially enlisted her for help, but also for hyping me up while doing it. Her editing gave this story clarity ;;
disclaimer: the portrayal of Jungkook in this story is purely fictional & does not reflect who he is in real life nor do I claim to believe it does. lastly, this story is not a part of my dad!bts series, a serendipitous life - singledad!jungkook is in its own universe.
a/n: GUYS. this story was purely created because I was under the influence of sowoozoo/muster JK back in 2021. I am so beyond excited to bring this back and share this cracked out fic again, I truly hope you all enjoy it and just have fun reading it.
“Mai, don’t be so dramatic,” you take the little girl’s hands into yours, dusting off the chalk from her palms, “look-see, it comes off!”
She beams up at you with a know-it-all smile before taking yellow chalk from the bucket and continuing her doodle on the concrete. You watch her as she makes a big circle, stopping to make sure it’s just right before looking at you once more.
“Can you make the lines?” She inquires with big eyes, you run your hand through her long hair and happily oblige; Mai stands and watches you, pressing her hand onto your shoulder; “daddy will like it!”
You chuckle, nodding, “your dad will love it.”
She kneels, taking blue chalk this time to draw clouds, a mixture of pastel colors in the shape of her handprint now adorning the sleeve of your shirt.
Adding butterflies to the chalk creation per Mai’s request, you hear the back gate open, and following is the sound of Mai’s jovial squeals. Quick to abandon the chalk, she runs into the doting arms of her father, Jungkook. Uncaring to her chalky hands, Jungkook sweeps Mai into a hug with no intention of letting go.
“Kiss,” he mutters to her as you walk over, dusting your hands off on your jeans. Mai presses her smaller palms onto his cheeks, squishing them in the process of giving him a quick peck.
“Oops,” she giggles, noticing the chalk she’s left on his cheeks.
“We made you a drawing,” Mai soon forgets, wiggling to move Jungkook forward. He smiles at you, following his daughter’s direction to the drawing. Mai, her eyes an exact mirror of her father’s, watches him as he takes it all in.
Jungkook marvels at his little girl’s work; “thank you, babe,” he says, kissing Mai’s cheek who nods with pride, bunny teeth sticking out. She looks over at you, singing your praises for bringing the bucket of chalk as a surprise.
“I told you I’d bring a surprise if you got A’s and B’s, right?” You smile, winking at Mai.
Jungkook thanks you before telling Mai to run inside and wash up for dinner. You follow him to the patio table and take a seat, noting the exhaustion of another long day falling over him. He runs his hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment before remembering his best friend is still there.
You offer him a pitiful smile, drawing him to roll his eyes and laugh, “what?”
You shake your head, “nothing.”
He straightens his gaze but even then, a hint of his sweet smile remains noticeable, “it’s never nothing.”
“But it really is this time. Besides,” you laugh, “am I never not worried about you and Mai?”
He just nods.
“You’re doing a great job Jungkook,” you pat his tattooed arm, “you are the light of her life.”
Jungkook looks back at the chalk drawing Mai doodled on the concrete, giggling to himself. Caught in his stupor and the innocence of his daughter, he comes to, looking at you; “these last seven years would have gone a lot differently if we didn’t have you though.”
-Seven years ago-
“It’s okay,” you try to soothe a newborn Mai but her shrill cries drown out your voice. You burn a trail around the living room as you pace, stealing glances at Jungkook who’s sat at the edge of his sofa. With clumps of his hair gathered between fisted palms, he’s never looked so defeated.
“Let’s try feeding her again,” you stand in front of him, hand reaching for the bottle next to him. Too caught in the frantic cry of his baby, he doesn’t hear you.
“Jungkook,” your tone is stern and you nudge his foot with yours, “come on, you can’t give up now, get it together.” A moment of hurt sweeps over his eyes when he looks up at you, but keeping your feet on firm ground, you push away the guilt that rushes you.
You clear your throat, “her bottle Jungkook, please.”
He does as you say, his eyes wide as he looks at his daughter for the first time since you arrived. You press the rubber tip to Mai’s lips, allowing a drop of the warm formula to touch her lips, “I promise you’ll love it, Mai.” You try to joke though there is a hint of begging in your tone.
Her cry breaks for a moment as the milk drips onto her tongue; “there you go,” laughter coats the nervous tremble in your voice this time.
You allow a couple more drops to fall onto her tongue until Mai’s cries ease into small whimpers. Her breathing staggers as she takes to the bottle, “see?” You can’t help but giggle. Looking at Jungkook, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration, he watches in shock while Mai drinks from the bottle as small puffs of air escape her nose.
“Use the rag on my shoulder to wipe her face, will you?” You ask him and he does just so, dabbing at Mai’s red cheeks, ridding her of her tears.
“I tried everything the last hour to get her to stop,” he whispers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes though he continues to marvel at the innocence wrapped in your arms. You watch as your best friend takes Mai’s foot in his hand, thoughtfully squeezing her toes before he moves his hand back to her head, rubbing her barely-there hair as far back as he can.
“Here,” you gesture for Jungkook to take his daughter and he steps back in fright. You chuckle, “you have to get used to holding her Kook, I won’t be here all the time.”
“Why?” He looks at you with all sincerity.
You shake your head, “she’ll be safe with you.”
He places the rag over his shoulder this time and holds his arms out. Mai fusses during the exchange and Jungkook shushes her in a gentle prive as he holds her against his chest; “just hold the bottle upright - yeah,” you say as you help to adjust her in his arms.
He cradles his large hand behind her head while her tiny body rests along his arm. He stands straight as a pin, fear taking up most of his expression as he looks down on his feeding daughter.
“Is this the first time you’re holding her?” You ask.
He gives you a look that can only mean yes, “my mom has been staying with us, she left right before you came,” he shakes his head, embarrassed to admit, “I was too scared.”
A soft laugh escapes you, “well, how’s it feel now?”
“Still scary,” he says seriously, “but I never want to put her down again.”
You stand back, watching him take all of her in. A month ago your best friend had his life made - living a bachelor lifestyle his friends envied, had a stellar career as the most sought realtor, owner of a newly built home. He was a free man who could do whatever, whenever.
That was until one drunken decision in the past came back nine months later in the form of a newborn baby.
Swaying back and forth with a slight strain in his movement, Jungkook watches Mai’s drooping lids; “can I do this?” He asks in a dream-like state leaving you to wonder if he really wanted an answer. That is until he moves his eyes to look at you.
You shrug with a pitied smile, “you love her, right?”
He frowns for a second, nodding without hesitation.
“Then you can do it, Jungkook.”
“I’d offer for you to stay for dinner but you probably have another date with what’s-his-name,” Jungkook closes the sliding glass door behind you two, sweeping Mai into his arms. The three of you make your way into the kitchen where he sets his daughter on the counter, inspecting her hands to make sure she’s cleaned them properly.
He playfully sniffs them before kissing her palms.
“For the thousandth time, his name is Mark, and no actually,” you laugh watching the two tease each other back and forth, Jungkook’s attention split between the two of you, “I don’t think that’s happening anymore.”
He stands upright, covering Mai’s ears which only sends her into a fit to hear the adult talk, too grown for her age. She fights to move her dad’s hands but to no avail.
“Bad kisser? I knew it,” he shakes his head while moving Mai’s from side to side. Belly laughs erupt from her small body as she begs for her dad to stop.
“Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. He chuckles, removing his hands from Mai and kissing her forehead.
You sit at the end of the long dining table next to Mai, Jungkook at the head of the table as usual. He finishes reading Mai’s fortune before they look at you.
“Your turn!” Mai shouts, holding a single noodle between her trainer chopsticks.
The cookie crumbles between your fingers as you unroll the small strip of paper, clearing your throat; “an old love will come back to you.”
Jungkook dramatically ooh’s and Mai follows, her small lips shaped into a perfect circle. Victim to Mai’s purity you squeeze her nose, “who could that be?” You tease her.
“Not me,” she giggles, “maybe daddy, he’s old!”
You fall back into your chair, eyes brimming with tears as you hold onto your belly full of Chinese food, laughing at the expense of your best friend.
“Funny,” he tries not to laugh, stuffing the remains of his fortune cookie into his mouth.
Chirping crickets and a black sky surround Jungkook’s home. You listen to the sound echo up into the vaulted ceilings, looking out of the opened windows. Taken by the quiet that surrounds his place, you shut your eyes and bask in it until the sound of Jungkook’s feet shuffles down the hallway.
“I don’t know whose good side I am on,” he sighs with relief, grabbing his glass of wine on the way to the sofa, “but she falls asleep like that.” He snaps his fingers.
You smile, peeling your attention away from the window.
Now dressed in baggy clothes that swallow up his svelte build, Jungkook takes a generous sip from his glass before patting the space next to him, “so, what’s wrong with this guy?”
You stop on your way to the sofa, eyebrows raised with sarcasm, “let’s cut the attitude, yeah?”
He can’t help but laugh, moving his leg when you finally sit down, “joking,” he reassures you, “but I mean, this is the third guy you’ve rejected and I didn’t even get to meet him.”
You shrug, “like you really wanted to?” Quirking an eyebrow at him, Jungkook can’t seem to look at you, laughing into his wine glass; “who’s worse here? You’ve always had at least one thing to complain about every guy I’ve brought around.”
“The bean and I have a preliminary process when it comes to guys you date,” he shrugs, licking a stray drop of wine before it can drip onto his sweatpants.
“Yes because a seven year old has a lot to say about adults and dating,” you chuckle, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder, “anyway, you aren’t missing out on anything Kook - and besides, I don’t want to introduce people into your guys’ life until I’m sure about them this time.”
Jungkook’s playfulness dies off, the wine in his glass not as interesting as the sullen look forming on your face. He watches you, the way you bend forward, one side of your hair tucked behind your ear while you anxiously pick at your cuticles.
He nudges your knee with his so you can look at him, a reassuring smile awaiting you, “that last guy fooled us all, okay?”
You sigh as a way to say, ‘it’s forgotten…no big deal…whatever…’ but Jungkook knows it’s a stain you’ve struggled to rid of for a while; “he’s been out of my life for a long time and that’s all that matters,” you stiffen your upper lip.
“Mm, cheers to that,” he clicks his glass against your water bottle, “but seriously, can I ask you something?”
You brace yourself, nodding.
“Except for that trash bag, you always seem to find a flaw in every guy you date,” Jungkook stalls for a second, reading your temperament before continuing, “why?”
Your eyes crinkle, suddenly underneath a spotlight, “do I?”
Jungkook resorts to his scrunch-nosed laugh, “are you kidding?”
“Well, okay Mr. Dating-expert,” you cross one leg over the other taking on a new defense, “you don’t find enough flaws in the women lined up outside of your house every day - why?”
He nearly spat out his wine, setting the glass down with hands surrendered to the air, “false accusation, you know I don’t bring women back here because of Mai-”
“Okay okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you sit back.
He laughs, “but fair enough, I guess we both don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.”
You stand up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I hate to agree since it concerns me too.”
Jungkook walks you to the front door, “I’m curious to find out who this ‘old love’ is,” you turn just as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You force a smile with squinted eyes, “do you know me at all, Jeon? I don’t believe in fortunes, remember?”
He gives you a quick hug, watching you walk the path to your car; “I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” he says from the door.
You wave him off, “yeah-yeah save the love spiel for another time, goodnight!”
On your drive home, absent in mind, you rake your fingers through your hair. The bright glow of the red traffic light casts over you when you come to a full stop. ‘An old love will come back to you.’ You snort at the thought; they are simply typed words on a piece of paper. It means nothing.
“You don’t believe in stupid fortunes,’” you sing into the void of your car.
But it still makes your stomach queasy. Heart palpitating in your chest while your palm becomes sweaty as you ring it around the steering wheel.
“Let’s not go back there…”
“Hello? What do you mean no big deal?” Nic’s voice is a clear call into the late night, earning herself a stern look from you. “Whisper please,” you hiss through your teeth, “Mai never sleeps well when Jungkook is away, it was hell getting her down tonight.”
Nic looks at you with wily eyes, spinning every which way you turn before she gets dizzy; “oh my god, stop for sec!”
In a huff to clean up Mai’s after-dinner doodle session - crayons strewn across the table and several drawings she made as gifts for her dad’s return from a work trip, you look at your friend with exasperation painted on your face, “it’s literally what I mean Nic.”
She blinks in rapid-fire, sitting down on the ottoman while you work around the dining room. “So I’m crazy, okay yeah. Because telling me that you’re in love with your best friend of a million years is totally normal.”
You shudder at how easily those words come out of Nic’s mouth while Jungkook’s daughter sleeps in your bed. Too young to understand anyway, you can’t help but want to protect Mai from this very sensitive information about her dad.
Nic rolls her eyes, “oh relax, she’s asleep now. I’m spiraling over here, okay?”
“Just, come on,” you hit the side of your leg with the cleaning rag, desperate to get your point across, “discretion, please? This is not information I want to be tossed around.”
“How long have you felt this way?” She watches you in your haste, cleaning every speck left on the table in an attempt to avoid the conversation. You’re steeped in regret for even mentioning it to Nic. It was a confession locked in the depths of Pandora's box.
It just came out.
“I don’t know,” you groan, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with washed hands and deadpan eyes.
Nic twists around the ottoman to face you when you come around, plopping yourself on the sofa.
“That’s a lie,” she states the obvious.
The popcorn texture of your ceiling suddenly becomes interesting when you toss your head back. I need to get my ceilings smoothed. You think to yourself while Nic waits. She won’t back down.
“I remember the exact moment I fell in love with him,” you sigh, tossing your hands up only to bring them back down on the cushions. You sit upright and look at Nic, “but it’s futile to even detail that because it’s never going to happen.”
“Do you want it to? I mean really want it to? Because he has a kid…”
Eyebrows knit together, you both have to laugh at that.
“I mean, you know, getting with Jungkook means taking on a child - although worthy to mention, a kid who absolutely adores you-”
“Please, don’t make me hurt more,” you press the pads of your fingers over your shut eyes, “I can’t even fathom how much it would confuse her - and I won’t entertain this past today. I can’t.”
“You’ve obviously been holding onto this for a long time-”
“And it ends today. Jungkook is my best friend, I vowed to be here for him and Mai as his friend, that’s it.”
“Okay, and when he finds a suitable woman and falls in love with her, then what?”
You can’t help the sadness that overwhelms your entire chest, eyes piercing through Nic, “ouch.”
“I’m sorry,” she takes on a new look of pity, leaning forward, “but that’s the reality, isn’t it? If you aren’t willing to-”
“Willing to what Nic? Confess to Jungkook and ruin our friendship? Ruin my relationship with Mai?” You retort, smiling because this is just too ridiculous to even consider.
“How can you assume he doesn’t feel the same?” Nic rebuttals.
You shake your head, “it’s not happening.”
That was 2 years ago. A night you remember all too clearly but push away along with the feelings steaming inside of you - chewed up and swallowed only to return from time to time like a bad case of acid reflux.
You scoff at the fortune bouncing around in your head, “not happening.”
“What are we shopping for exactly?” Nic comes up next to you, raking through the neutral-toned tops with not much of a care about what she is seeing.
“Um,” you pick out two tank tops and hold them up against you waiting for her approval, “that cruise I’m going on next month - didn’t we talk about it?”
“Oh yeah, wait-who are you going with and why was I not invited?” She queries, noting the way you move swiftly toward the dressing rooms.
You chuckle, “I didn’t plan this trip, I was invited,” you shut the door to the changing room before Nic can follow you in. She leans against it, quirking an eyebrow, “cheeky,” she laughs, “who invited you?”
She listens to you mull over your choices, hearing your feet shuffle on the carpeted floor; “uh, Jungkook did.”
You are immediately met with silence, peeking at the bottom of the mirror where Nic’s feet reflect as she turns to face the door. “Come again? You failed to mention this romantic getaway would be with your best friend-”
Opening the door, Nic nearly falls in when you catch her. You roll your eyes; “have you always been this dramatic?”
She shrugs, “one of us has to be-back to my question.”
“Not a romantic getaway, Mai is coming and-”
“Wh-like a family vacation-”
“Nic!” Your jaw sets and she shuts it quickly, “his parents are also going, okay?”
Your friend blinks in disbelief and you give her a look that wills away any sarcastic comment she has at the ready.
You have to hand it to her, she’s a witty one; “besides it’s kind of a company cruise for him, all the employees are allowed to bring guests, okay?”
“Noted,” she purses her lips.
The silence between purchasing your items and the walk to the car is thick with Nic’s wandering mind.
“Can you just answer one thing for me?” You’re already sighing before she can ask her question once at the car. Tossing your bags in the back before getting into the driver’s seat with Nic buckled up and raring to go; “have you worked through all of that - you know, your feelings?”
You nod, “for the most part.” Nic drops her forehead into her hands, kneading away at her temples and you have to laugh, “okay, yes I have, is that better Nicola?”
“If you weren’t such a bad liar, yeah it would be!” Nic tentatively shoves your shoulder, laughing with you, “how do you manage it because I sure as hell could not.”
You relax for a moment coming to a red light, “Mai is number one here, how she feels matters first-”
“That is very noble of you, but hello, you’re human and your feelings matter too,” Nic adds with pointed inflect, “and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Jungkook should know better, inviting you to family functions like the three of you are a family before he runs off with some random-”
“Nic,” you send a wavering look her way, “I don’t mind watching Mai when I have the time, I love her-she’s like-” you startle yourself, “I just love her, alright? I don’t mind it.”
Nic shakes her head when you turn away, your eyes set back on the road. An uneasy feeling settles inside of her, wondering how you’d managed to lie into believing all of that; “Look, you know I care about you. I know he does too I just think he’s a little blind and I’m just worried it’s hurting you-”
“I’m fine,” you practically sing.
“Okay, so you are now but it will hurt you eventually if you keep pretending like this,” Nic flattens her tone.
“I said I am fine,” you say with emphasis, “anyway, it’s Sunday which means dinner at their house-” you look at her knowing she has a smirk waiting for you. You both look at each other on instinct, eyes squinted at one another, “so I am inviting you to come with, okay?”
You both laugh; “yeah whatever, I’ll join your weird not-family-tradition for tonight.”
Sunday dinner with the Jeons proceeds as usual given the extra guest. Nic prides herself on where she can observe the oddities of your friendship with Jungkook and his daughter. Even she, sworn to never birth children herself, can’t help the fluttering of her ovaries as she watches the camaraderie built between you and Jungkook’s daughter. Mai teasingly stiffens her upper lip, shoving her face near yours while a goofy voice bellows out of her. You roll your eyes at her, laughing before attacking her sides with tickling fingers.
It’s a smile on Jungkook’s face that Nic hasn’t seen before. Spending many a night out with the two of you and friends, she’s used to the suave Jungkook she’s seen at clubs. The way he talks to women, motions for them, how he sticks his tongue out just enough for flirtatious emphasis when he’s curled up with one. His ego is seen clearly across the dance floor; Nic is sure her face is turning green at the very thought of it.
“Alright kiddo,” Jungkook stretches, “it’s late-”
“Dad,” Mai whines, clinging on to you. You hide your laugh, noting the way she tries to fight her sleepiness in front of him.
He shakes his head, “it’s a school night Mai- bathroom - brush your teeth, now.”
You can’t help but feel sorry for her, catching her pitiful stare that has so fittingly fallen on you, you chuckle, “come on, I’ll tuck you in afterward.”
With that little bit of incentive, Mai jumps off the couch, quick to slouch when she passes by her dad, meekly waving goodbye to Nic before she disappears down the hallway; “be right back,” you call to them, following Mai’s very sad trail into the darkness.
Nic sighs, eyes quick to find Jungkook, “so-” her smile flattens when he finally looks at her.
“So?” He adds, his eyes slit in wonder. Nic has always been the wild card with a fiery tongue.
She widens her grin, “I hear you and your family are going on a cruise.”
He just nods, smiling into his glass before taking a drink, “she’s coming too.”
“I mean that was implied-” Nic snorts, “that’s sweet.”
Jungkook chuckles, catching the sarcastic look in Nic’s eyes, “what are you on about?”
“Jeon Jungkook you are clue-”
“She was falling asleep while brushing her teeth,” you come out with a hushed laugh, “practically had to carry her into bed.”
Jungkook tears his eyes away from Nic, both friends staring at you before they force a laugh. You shrug it off, grabbing your things along with Nic’s who meets you at the door. Jungkook follows, his hands shoved inside of his pockets.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Nic exaggerates her tone, accepting Jungkook’s hug before getting into the car.
You turn back to him with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.
“Okay, well I’m going to be pretty busy with work the next few weeks, they want overtime - god-”
Jungkook laughs while you struggle to get your arm in the sleeve of your jacket; “the sleeve is twisted-here,’ he says, pulling it out and holding it straight for you.
“Thanks.”
“I guess we’ll see you at the ship then,” he says, playfully pushing you toward your car.
You gently kick his ankle, “night, Jeon.”
He smiles at you, bending forward to wave at Nic who offers him a short smile; “text me when you get home.”
As always, you wave to him without a second look.
“Did dad receive the confirmation for your parking spot,” Jungkook asks while swinging his keys around his pointer finger, leaving a house he just showed, “it has the information on where you’ll park your car at the port.”
“He did and what about you, will you be doing the same?” Mrs. Jeon then asks about you, “how will she get there?”
He can’t help but giggle, his ever-curious mother always wondering about you, worrying that a small task may be a little too inconvenient for you, “you should pick her up really.”
Jungkook settles into his car, a playful eye roll following his mother’s assumptions, “already taken care of mom.”
“Good,” a sigh of relief can be heard on his end, “how is she anyway, we haven’t seen her since Mai’s little school performance.”
“Slow down, yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, “she’s busy too but good, I think anyway. She came over Sunday for dinner-”
“As usual,” Mrs. Jeon snickers to herself, “why don’t you bring her over here for dinner once in a while? I would like to see her too.”
“You really want that?” He arches an eyebrow.
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue, “yah, my son, you say that as if she hasn’t been an important part of my grandchild’s life. Of course, we want to see her but you say she’s always busy.”
“Oh,” he pouts, thinking it over, “well we have a whole week to catch up so you can make up for lost time then.”
“Mhm,” he could hear the smirk on his mom’s face, “she deserves a break Jungkook-ah, you know?”
Jungkook nods as if his mom could see him, “of course she does.”
“Between her work and then watching the baby, you keep her busy.”
Jungkook frowns, “yah mom, this is why Mai acts like a baby sometimes, she’s not a baby anymore, she’s turning eight-”
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue in protest again, “she’ll always be my grand-baby, and you - you’re forever my baby…”
He can’t help but smile this time, “yeah, I know. Anyway, you make it sound like I employ her or something, she comes in on her free time- whenever she pleases.”
“Ok ok,” his mother’s gentle laugh he can remember so clearly from childhood eases out of her, “I just worry she’ll think otherwise.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mom,” Jungkook sighs.
“Anyway, that’s what dad and I will be there for, yeah? To spend time with Mai and give you two some free time to do whatever-”
“And some family time with all of us, but I appreciate it, I’m sure we can squeeze in a childless night.”
Mrs. Jeon chuckles before ending the call, but not before one more reminder about inviting you over to dinner sometime soon.
Jungkook laughs to himself as he pulls into his driveway. Like clockwork, Mai’s school bus arrives at the corner. He steps out and waves to the bus driver when they drive off before Mai comes running down the sidewalk and into his arms.
“Hey, dad!” She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the cheek he purposefully puffed out for her.
“You’re getting big, bean,” he groans, faking a backache after setting her down. He rests his hand atop her head, hanging her backpack for her before they trail into the kitchen.
“Your muscles aren’t so strong anymore then,” Mai quips, tossing a quick shoulder shrug her dad’s way when he turns back from the refrigerator to glare at her.
“Smart-alec,” he mutters, tossing a small tangerine at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at him, screeching when he makes a run for her. With several feet of height on his daughter, Jungkook snatches her in no time, throwing her over his shoulder, tattooed fingers tickling her sides.
Jovial screams and giggles leap out of the little girl until he tosses her on the sofa, her dark hair a wild mess and cheeks red, “not fair dad, you’re still bigger,” she pouts suddenly. Jungkook leans over the couch, laughing while swiping Mai’s hair out of her face, pinching her cheek in the process, “what do you want to eat for dinner, kid? Ordering in tonight.”
Mai jumps up in excitement, shouting your name.
He laughs, pulling his phone out to peruse a menu to order from, “not tonight- I have a work dinner, so you’ll be-”
“Not a babysitter-dad!” Mai whines, stomping her feet toward him, “I don’t want a babysitter, they aren’t fun.”
He shrugs, taking her chin in his hand and squeezing it, “sorry babe, she’s busy tonight.”
“Fine, whatever,” Mai turns in one swift motion and disappears into the den, homework in hand.
Jungkook groans with a slight curl to his lip, “yah, whatever…” he says to himself, wondering when his 7-year-old became a teenager.
With aching feet and a dull throbbing in your head, you sit at the breakfast nook in silence, swallowed up in the pleasant darkness of your apartment.
“Is it time to retire yet?” You want to cry like a baby, be coddled like one, rocked to sleep.
Just then a ding from your phone pulls you from your minute misery; a text message.
[Mark]: Okay, I’m going to level with you, should I stop trying? This is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve canceled our date…
You purse your lips, re-reading Mark’s message while the conversation you had with Jungkook weeks ago looms in the back of your mind.
‘Always something wrong with every guy you date…’
You shake your head; that’s not true. Mark is a very sweet guy. He is kind of introverted in a big group but alone, he’s all about you. He treats you well and as much as Jungkook wants to tease you about it - Mark is not a bad kisser.
But…
You sigh as you tap away at the keyboard.
[You]: I’m sorry Mark…as you can see, I’m not great at being forthcoming…or communicating.
[Mark]: no, what??
Haha come on I’m an adult, I can handle rejection :’)
You smile, warmed by Mark’s playful attitude.
[You]: Is it worse if I say that you are a great friend? Because you really are.
[Mark]: Oo yeah, that hurts a little but you’re good, I’ll find some way to get over you..
[You]: Don’t make it worse >< seriously Mark, you’ve been good to me these last few months, it’s nothing personal.
[Mark]: you deserve it and I’m sure the guy knows it already
Your eyes widen.
[You]: Sorry.. what are you talking about?
[Mark]: Come on I’m not stupid either haha every time we were together and that kid called or her dad, you dropped everything to talk to them. Rubbing salt in my wound here, but didn’t you leave our date once to be with her?
Oh, that guy.
[You]: Right…He’s my best friend…and his daughter I mean yeah, I would do anything for her. So I can’t apologize for that, but this is even more proof that you are a great guy!
[Mark]: hahaha, ok I got it, I have to say this is the least demoralizing way any woman has rejected me before
[You]: You’re welcome? Haha. Good night (:
It couldn’t have gone any better, the guilt over Mark that settled in your stomach was now gone, but you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t make you feel better.
Mark is smart but he was wrong. Well…maybe answering Mai’s phone call that one night, while you and Mark were making out on his couch, was a bit excessive? You cringe at the thought…
Peeling yourself from those memories and the barstool proves easier when your incentive is to no longer question what everyone around you seems to have common knowledge of. Pouring water into a steel pot, you set it on the stove to boil for some ramen.
Not long after your meal is done your phone rings with the Jeons’ home number flashing across the screen; “Bean?” You answer, knowing it’s Mai since Jungkook only calls you from his cell phone.
You are greeted with an exasperated huff before she whispers harshly into the phone, “why didn’t you come watch me tonight?”
Choosing to eat straight from the pot because it was one of those days, you bring it into the living room, a grimace on your face, “my sincerest apologies kid. I told your dad I’d be busy with work since we’re all going on vacation soon.”
“Oh, well, I don’t like this babysitter, she treats me like a little kid,” you almost choke on your first bite of noodles, stifling a laugh at Mai’s dispense.
“Okay one - you are a kid and two - be nice, three - where is your dad?”
Mai scoffs with gusto into the phone, “work dinner,” she exasperates, “dad thinks I’m a dummy, I know he’s on a date.”
Your heart drops and with it goes your appetite, setting the half-eaten food down on your coffee table. You move the phone away for a moment, allowing yourself a second to let out a long breath before continuing, “how do you know that, you know your dad is a busy guy, he goes on plenty of work dinners.”
“Hm- again I’m smart, dad says he is going on company dinners when it’s actually with work people,” Mai’s tone is flippant, “but when it’s a date? He calls them ‘work dinners.’”
“Oh right,” you curse yourself for having this adult conversation with a child, “duh.”
Mai laughs, “dad has been going on a lot of work dinners-”
You clam your eyes shut, “y-you know what bean, I’m sorry but I’m exhausted- are you in any immediate danger that requires me to come over there?
“No,” Mai sighs with obvious disappointment, “I guess not.”
Even with the unsettling of your heart, Mai always manages to melt you to your core, “you sure?”
“Dad would be mad if I made you come here, I’m okay, I just miss you I guess,” her voice suddenly drops, and the little kid is back. The innocence you love so much about her pulls you in.
“I miss you too,” you say, “but hey- the cruise is coming up soon, okay? You’ll have your grandparents, your dad-”
“And you, duh,” she adds.
You shake your head, chuckling, “and me.”
After talking her through her irritation and simply missing the two people that are her entire world, Mai hangs up a little more satisfied.
You? You call it an early night, ignoring the dreaded feeling hanging from your heartstrings.
You aren’t sure how to feel once you wake up on the first day of vacation. Having lost sleep over the last week while bitterly packing for the cruise, you thought up several ways you could have canceled before getting to this day. Picking up your phone on several occasions to text Jungkook only to picture Mai’s disappointment. She likely would have shed a tear or two at your expense.
Finally the night before, you swallowed back your pride and zipped up your packed suitcase which was now sitting in the back of Jungkook’s trunk with the rest of their things. He and Mai sang along to a song while you tapped your hand against your leg, unable to keep the smile away from your face for long.
Mrs. Jeon greets you eagerly after smothering Mai in kisses, taking the three of you ahead as you enter the ship.
“Home for the next week,” Jungkook comes up from behind and puts his arm around you, pressing his palm into Mai’s hair and messing with it while she tries to fight him off. You move away from him and walk towards the elevators, “shall we settle in our rooms?”
Mai is the first to react, running toward you and grabbing your hand in the process before the rest follow.
Once in the rooms with Jungkook’s parents only a few doors down from your suite, Mai pops in and out of the door connecting your room to theirs, “we can have sleepovers every night!” She cheers.
You shake your head, laughing at her excitement while still taking it all in yourself. Jungkook comes in from your balcony, pressing two fingers against Mai’s forehead when she goes throttling toward him, “relax monster,” he chuckles, “and not every night, okay?”
“Okay, but at least when you go on work dinners,” Mai peers passed Jungkook’s hip at you making a face too devilish for a child, “I can sleep in her room?”
You’re glad the bed is there to catch you when you sit back. Jungkook gently pushes her head back, laughing, “we’ll see.”
You have to swallow back that all too familiar sickness, “come on Kook, it’s vacation.” Mai leaps forward with a toothy smile, “yeah dad, vacation!” She shouts, wrapping her arms around Jungkook’s legs.
You watch the two of them dance around your room, Mai standing on top of Jungkook’s feet while they tease each other; “duck feet,” Mai says, proceeding to quack at her father.
“Do you uh- you have to work while we’re here?” You ask Jungkook. He sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head, “nope, just one brunch with a few colleagues but that’s it.”
You despise the relief that immediately washes over you.
Switching into vacation mode proves a lot easier than you anticipated, given the new information Mai shared with you during that one phone call. You hate to admit it to yourself, but seeing Jungkook stick around for the first couple of days provides relief for you that he is in fact, not going on any work dinners this trip.
Shut up shut up shut UP…
Your thoughts eat away at your brain while you sit poolside, taking a break from carrying Mai around on your shoulders like a mermaid - per her request. You were her throne and she, the mermaid princess of an undersea world, Jungkook the villainous merman out to seek her crown. After a victorious battle against said merman, you urge Mai to continue playing with her dad because being the throne is a weighty job.
Watching them is almost better.
Like a shooting star, a smile beams across your face, sitting back to hold yourself together, barking with laughter when Jungkook throws Mai into the air. A shriek of excitement falls out of her until she lands safely in a big splash.
Jungkook raptures you as you look over to find his head tossed back, perfect teeth showing as he laughs with every part of his being - eyes closed, the only visible part of his face is the utter joy he is feeling.
Your heart beats faster, cheeks grow hotter but not from the sun. Like the kind of gasp that escapes you during a jump scare in a horror movie, a memory locked so deep floods your head. You lower the brim of your hat to hide the immediate tears that flood your eyes, relieved to see Jungkook and Mai continue to chase each other around the pool, making waves while splashing one another.
It was a long day, Jungkook enlisted your help with a colicky baby Mai in need. You read up on as many articles as you could before heading over to their place, finding him in a panic though he was trying to repress it for the time being.
With much effort on both ends, Mai was finally asleep after hours of fussing. Jungkook, desperate for his daughter’s relief to the point of tears, you decided to leave them alone in his bedroom while you claimed a spot on the couch.
Waking up hours later, the sun is long gone. You head to his bedroom to say goodbye.
The door is still open and you find Jungkook lying on his side with his back to you, instead of sleeping like you initially assumed, he is humming. One hand rests under his head while the other moves in an up-and-down motion. You stand on your tiptoes and see Mai is still asleep, laid out on her back with her limbs sticking out, you cover your mouth to stifle a chuckle.
She looks angelic - long eyelashes tickling the tops of her chubby cheeks, you can even hear her heavy breathing beyond Jungkook’s soft hum.
“Is it possible to be this in love?” His voice captures your ears but it’s a welcomed sound. You can’t see his face but you’re sure he’s near to tears for the second time that day. Pushing off of the wall, you walk to the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes dart to you, dropping his head, silently laughing at himself.
You pat his ankle, a chummy smile covering your face only to tease him, “I’m heading home, will you two be okay?”
He looks back at Mai before nodding, “thank you,” he sighs before moving out of bed but you try to stop him, assuring him that you can make it to the door in one piece.
“When do I ever let you walk out alone?” He whispers, kissing Mai’s cheek before carefully moving off the bed. He follows you to the front door. When you turn to wish him and Mai a full night’s rest, he swallows you in a hug. You stand stiff for a moment, unable to recall if this was something that had ever occurred before. You weren’t the bear-hugging type of friend.
Even more, you can feel your heart thrum against Jungkook’s and suddenly it becomes natural as you melt into his hold. You wrap your arms around his middle to which he pulls you closer and tighter.
Eyes closed, the feeling of being in his arms is overwhelming and cheesy as it all feels, you have to will the tears away as a rush of feelings come flooding over you. Every over-thought you’d wondered up to this moment is answered.
‘Am I falling for him? No…wait.
Do I love my best friend?’
“We love you,” Jungkook says close to your ear, shaking you from your thoughts, but with them are the crackings of your heart, “I don’t say that enough,” he adds. He finally releases you and you have to pull yourself together in a second.
“Jungkook, I told you I’d be here for you and Mai- no question.” You manage to say, clearing your throat.
Walking away from his house that night, you know for you, it’s all changed.
A shrill cry of your name jolts you awake, cold water splashing your midriff. Your eyes focus back and on Mai who is now sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, “let’s race,” she says. Without hesitance you jump in after them, pulling a giggling Mai into the pool with you who begs for mercy.
After a warm shower, sleep proves victor over the book Mai begged hands and knees for you to read, but by the time you washed up and changed into fresh pajamas, Mai’s face was planted into Jungkook’s pillow, hair splayed across the white pillowcase.
Jungkook hears you chuckle from his place on the balcony. Turning to look over his shoulder just as you kiss Mai’s head, a gentle flutter in his chest mimics the rocking of the ship.
“She’s going to need an entire week to recuperate after this trip,” you come out and sit on the bench with him, drawing your legs up and holding them to your chest. Jungkook’s silence makes you curious, but when you look over, the look on his face tells you why.
Brows are set straight with his arms crossed in front of his chest, you can see every thought that's running through his mind. Instead of pegging him with a question, you tap his leg with your foot. He takes a sharp breath in, laughing at himself when he looks at you.
“I was just thinking,” he groans, moving forward to rest his face in his hands. Your heart crawls out of your chest in search of a way to soothe your best friend, yet all the same, you just want to hold him.
“I was just thinking…” he sighs with a shrug, “back when I was twenty-one, convinced I was this big hotshot with a realtor’s license and brand new BMW,” he laughs in shame, “ah- then all of a sudden there’s a helpless baby who I had no time to prepare for.”
You remember that time with him; recalling the day Jungkook called you to his then apartment, voice too shaken to explain why he needed you there as he returned a missed call from the local hospital. Of course, your mind assumed he was diagnosed with some kind of illness.
But with the call on speaker, you watched the color drain from his face as child protective services spoke to him on the other end. Words are thrown around like fireballs- ‘your name was put on the birth certificate by her birth mother Mr. Jeon…a DNA test has been ordered so we will need you to come down to the clinic to complete it. For now, the infant will be placed with our services upon release from the hospital.’
‘No,’ he was quick to respond, ‘no-don’t do that please, I’ll bring her home. Can-can I bring her home?’
“You didn’t need that test to prove what you already knew,” you add, watching the way your best friend runs his hands back and forth through his hair.
He took the test anyway and it was of course confirmed that Mai was his; “when you called me over, I couldn’t imagine what they would say and that was definitely the farthest thing from my mind.”
“Wouldn’t change it for the world now that I know I’m a capable dad but-” his confidence drops and you sit forward, bending your head until you can see his face.
“But what?” You ask.
“Any chance at falling in love is out the window-” you can hear the guilt in his voice when he says that. He sits back and you follow, keeping your eyes on him. He chuckles with a crooked grin, “what?”
“Why do you do that? It doesn’t hurt you?”
He sighs, looking back at the water, “it’s easier, isn’t it? Sleeping around rather than risking a broken heart?”
“Jungkook, Mai’s mother-she was foolish for leaving you and even more for leaving Mai-I mean let’s not forget she, herself never even told you about your child in the first place-”
“Yeah but I’m still an idiot for even going there with her, I knew all she wanted was something casual and I gave it to her just so I could feel something.” He shakes his head.
“But one really good thing came out of that, right?” You push, taking your fingers and nudging his chin to force a smile on his face.
He doesn’t argue, thinking of the little girl that is sound asleep inside.
A quiet hum settles inside of your chest drawing Jungkook to look at you. Your eyes set on the moonlight reflecting against the water; “I love your kid Jungkook.”
Just looking at your smile when you turn to face him, it’s a sight that nestles deep inside of his chest; “I already did before you even brought her home but I swear, my heart almost can’t take how much I love Mai.”
The gentle rock of the boat begins to lull you into sleep; chilly ocean air creates goosebumps over your skin as you fight your eyes rolling back, your breathing slows as a content hum comes out of you. Jungkook watches you for a moment, noticing the slight chatter in your teeth that pulls a giggle from him, “come here.”
Your heavy eyelids open to look at him, blinking inquisitively as he brings you closer to him. “I’m trying to warm you up,” he chuckles with another tug of your hand. He scoots down to rest his head along the sofa so you can lay your head comfortably on his shoulder; Jungkook’s body heat is all you need to fully accept his invitation.
“Just so you know,” he clears his throat, “because I know how my kid is,” Jungkook’s voice sounds like a subtle purr, “she loves you too.”
Caught in a haze of exhaustion and more emotion than your heart can handle, you nuzzle against Jungkook’s shoulder, willing yourself to fall asleep with those sentiments in mind.
On the cusp of a deep sleep, you swear you feel Jungkook press his lips to the top of your head as he carries you off into the room.
When you wake up in the morning, you’re immediately aware this is not your bed though it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. Your heart launches in your throat as you sit up on your elbows, eyes pressed shut.
Okay now!
They pop open, your initial concern to find Jungkook lying there settles when you see Mai at your side. Her long raven hair strung across her face.
A snore causes you to jump; awakened by his snore, Jungkook looks at you with one eye open, his body contorted to the size of the narrow cot meant for Mai. His feet dangling off the edge.
“You could have slept in my bed,” you snort.
He sits up, the sheet falling off to reveal his rippled chest and abs. You’ve seen his muscles several times, but the setting is far too intimate this time. You have to look away, pulling Mai’s hair off of her face. Jungkook stands and stretches, “it was nice falling asleep to you guys’ breathing- peaceful,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.
The days go by too fast. Each one was filled with various activities tailored to Mai as she enjoyed the time with her grandparents. On several occasions, she couldn’t help but announce how happy she was to have her favorite people with her all at the same time.
Although, on the second to last night, you fail to ignore when Jungkook doesn’t return from that brunch as soon as he assured Mai he would, showing up early in the evening sans tie and a fresh mark on the side of his neck.
He comes lazily into your room after a shower, greeted by Mai with open arms, “where were you?” She asks, pressing her face into his side.
“I’m sorry.” His answer is short and hardly an answer. You turn away to hide your disappointment, closing the coloring book Mai was using and putting away her crayons; “your parents said you had unexpected business come up after brunch?” You ask.
He looks at you and nods.
Liar.
“But look bean,” he picks Mai up, conveniently placing her where she can’t point out the hickey, “you’re going to dinner alone with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” Mai throws her head back, “you’re abandoning me again?”
You can’t help but laugh, curiosity pushing away the heaviness in your chest, “wait, why?”
Jungkook looks at Mai, “cover your ears.”
“But-”
He curls an eyebrow at her and with a loud scoff, she does as he says.
“They want us to have a night out. We can go to the club downstairs - dancing and drinks?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You shake your head, laughing while your resolve not to give in slips away, “I have a dress that deserves to be seen, might as well.”
While Jungkook spends the last few hours of daylight with Mai, you don’t waste any time and get ready. It isn’t often you can pamper yourself like this; hair laid sleek against your back, taking time on your makeup to ensure its lasting quality because you plan to dance away the troubles of your heart.
Just as you buckle the other strap to your heel, there’s a knock at the main door of your room. You peer into Jungkook and Mai’s room through the connecting door which has remained open the majority of the trip, remembering he left just a few minutes before to drop Mai off at his parents’ room.
You open it without much thought, stumbling back when you come face to face with your best friend. He catches you by the wrist, chuckling.
His hair is combed with an effortless side part, thick bangs swept on either side of his forehead. His patterned buttoned-down stands out though the short sleeves allow his tattoos to be on display. White slacks and a new pair of shoes adorn his lower half while a touch of gold jewelry ties it all together. Pushing your figurative tongue back into your mouth, you offer a simple compliment before stepping out.
Going unnoticed is the way Jungkook’s eyes slink over your figure, selfishly detailing in his memory how your dress fits you in all the right places.
“Hurry up slowpoke,” you call to him, already halfway down the hallway. He looks at you, wondering if you’ve caught him staring. You choose to turn away before he can see the smirk on your face.
Music booms around you while a colorful group of people aged from 21 to 90 fills the space for a final night of hoorah as you settle at the bar. Your feet are already aching after Jungkook pulled you straight onto the dance floor when you initially arrived. Having clubbed with him on many occasions, you aren’t surprised by his rhythm and ease in gyrating his hips to the music. Perhaps a little closer to you than you are used to, but you’ll allow a pass tonight. And really, are you complaining?
No. But you choose to ignore that voice in your head.
Jungkook is looking around until he finds your eyes. You blink, clearing your throat, “I have a confession.” He scoots in closer so he can hear you better, eyes dropping to meet yours. Stirring in his seat, you wonder if he’s fidgeting out of discomfort.
Liquid courage pushes you to continue, “I broke into my minibar and had a little pre-game before you came,” you admit. Jungkook drops his head and laughs at you again. His eyes squint beneath a beaming smile, you practically choke at how beautiful he looks, “y-you might have to carry me back to my room later.” Your tongue suddenly feels numb as you stumble over your words.
He nods, “you deserve to let loose,” his expression takes on more sincerity, “you do so much for me and Mai.”
If not for the mood lighting flashing in various colors, you swear Jungkook’s face is flushed. His blinks are slow and you wonder when he’ll stop looking at you like that-
“Here you are.” The bartender barrages in with your drinks. You jump slightly while Jungkook thanks the man, a straight line forming his lips.
After two shots and another finished drink, Jungkook is ready to dance into the wee hours of the morning. Head caught in a constant loop after those shots, you insist he goes on his own. Just then a woman’s voice appears close to your ear, causing you to jump back. Jungkook looks to where you are with some sort of a smile appearing on his face but you can hardly make it out through a hazy gaze.
He’s saying your name and you make every effort to concentrate, “this is my colleague, Rosie.”
Rosie smiles at you but you notice more the way her hands are wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and then the way she moves her hand to smooth across his shoulders, tucking her fingers beneath his collar.
Rosie from brunch. You smile, “nice to meet you.” You can’t help when your eyes ghost over the mark on Jungkook’s neck once more, the one you’ve had to pretend wasn’t there the entire night.
“Likewise,” she hardly spares you a second look before her eyes are glued to Jungkook’s, “let’s go dance.”
Jungkook sets his attention on you when you stand, making it a point to plant your feet firmly on the ground, “go, I need to use the restroom.”
Rosie wastes no time and pulls Jungkook away.
You groan, staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes weighed down with one too many drinks though you’re still able to stand on your own. That deserves a pat on the back along with your determination to not allow this night to go sour as you make your way out to the dance floor once more.
But it all comes to a screeching halt when you spot Rosie and Jungkook, even more, the way his lips hover dangerously close over the skin of her neck, his hand smoothing over her waist. Their bodies are pressed together as they dance with not an inch of breathing space to spare between the two.
You can’t help the fire that rages through you though tears sting your eyes. Before he can see, given he even looks up for one minute, you make a desperate escape towards the exit.
Stupid..so stupid. Stupid on a monumental level. What did you think was going to happen-he’d magically fall in love with you on this trip? Yes…NO.
You sniffle as you rub the heels of your feet, skin red from the pain inflicted by your choice of footwear. Even after a long shower, scrubbing the black makeup off your eyes that melted onto the bags that are now present - you can’t shake the aching in your chest.
“Ugh,” you groan, tossing yourself back onto your bed. Hair still sopping wet from your shower and dressed in your comfiest pajamas, nothing could soothe you at this point. Mind still swimming in a drunken state, you wish you could just black out already.
Click.
The door to Jungkook and Mai’s room closes. You shoot up into a sitting position once more, immediately regretting that. Jungkook peers in through that middle door, chuckling at you and a little less drunk than you. He always held his liquor better than you did.
That fire flickers in you once more, so slight but it causes you to twitch. You can’t un-notice it, even when you look away for a moment while he moves over to you. His hair is a mess, shirt hastily buttoned, and the collar is tinted pink, not to mention the faded lipstick marks around his jaw. He steps any closer to you and you could name the brand of perfume she was wearing.
“Club closed like two hours ago,” your words are still a bit slurred. Jungkook just chuckles, “yeah, I’m beat.” You shake your head while he moves back in the direction of his room.
“Old habits die hard,” you mutter venomously.
Jungkook cocks his head, taken aback, “what?”
You straighten your shoulders when he looks at you, “are you really going to risk putting yourself in this same situation again? Just for a one-night stand? Have you forgotten how Mai came into the picture?” The deep frown on your face is hardly enough to hide how you swallow back the gasp following your accusation. The dagger you’ve pierced him with digs into his back while a crushing pain swallows him whole, you can see the crumbling beneath your best friend’s eyes.
His cheeks grow red when he turns back towards the door, “go to sleep,” he mumbles in a tone that has the ground shaking, tossing his room key to the side, “you’re drunk.”
You flinch when he slams the door shut.
The swaying of the boat doesn’t help the unsettling waves in your stomach and throbbing head. Even with the new presence of another person on the balcony, your head remains cradled in your hands.
“Here,” Jungkook says in a low tone but it still makes your head throb. He reaches out to you with a water bottle in hand, “and take these.”
You peer up, the torturous rays of the sun hurt your eyes. You shake your head. Jungkook smacks his tongue in disapproval, taking up the bottom space of the lounging chair you're sitting on. He opens the bottle for you and brings it up to your lips, “stubbornness won’t make you feel better, drink.”
“Oh god, please don’t say that word,” you retch, taking a sip. Another second later Jungkook pops the two aspirin into your mouth, assisting you with another swig of water.
The rushing waves settle around you but the awkward silence can be cut with the dagger Jungkook was still holding onto. He sighs, looking away from the wooden deck of the balcony.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” he says. The strained laughter that follows makes your chest grow hot along with the heaviness in his tone.
You feel his gaze fall over you and you finally look up at him, removing your sunglasses. He doesn’t tear his attention away from you, waiting to see if you’ll do anything, say anything.
“Do you remember-”
You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, “I remember what I said.” You wish you didn’t, probably even more than Jungkook wishes he never heard it.
Jungkook sits there a little bit stunned, straightening his back and you can see the frown grow on his brow, “not that I owe you any explanation - I didn’t sleep with her, we just - I don’t know I just couldn’t-”
You question him with your eyes, “you’re right Jungkook, you don’t need to explain anything to me, we’re both adults.” You cut him off before it can hurt anymore, irritation lining your tone which Jungkook picks up on the latter. Somehow he still misses the longing behind your eyes.
“How about some leniency? I’m trying to be nice even though you insulted me last night-”
“You don’t have to be nice to me, I was out of line so let’s just drop it. I’m sorry for ever saying anything-”
“Will you let me care about you?” He snaps back. It catches you off guard, even when he’s been angry in the past, he’s never snapped at anybody. But the shock isn’t enough to stop you from feeling angry too.
“What are you talking-if this is you caring about me then please, spare me. I mean y-you came back to the room like nothing-” you groan out of frustration, swinging your legs over the lounge chair to stand up. The uneven weight nearly sends Jungkook to the ground but he manages to catch himself.
“Like nothing-what?” Jungkook follows you into your room.
“Nothing Jungkook, nothing happened, that’s what I mean. And you know what, nothing is ever going to happen,” you mutter, tossing clothes into your opened suitcase.
He grasps for the words falling from your mouth, managing to hear every last one, “what do you mean?”
You shake your head, “look let’s just give each other space, yeah? We only have today left so let me just do what you brought me here to do - let me do what I do best apparently.”
The riddled expression on his face only makes you grow more impatient for him to leave you alone; “that’s why I’m here right Jungkook - to take care of Mai while you rendezvous? I’m just a babysitter for Mai - that’s all I’ve ever been to you since she was born, right?”
His eyes grow cold while your words only chip away at him more and more, “you’re my best friend, I invited you to come because you’re like family-”
“Oh, just stop!” You twist pieces of your clothing between angry fists, “stop doing this to me-stop saying those things to me, stop cuddling with me like we’re-we-” you’re sputtering on the edge of stone-cold tears, “you just-you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Then tell me,” he urges you, “for God’s sake talk to me instead of pushing me away-”
“Jungkook, I love you,” you cry desperately, your body sinking, “I-I love you, and I can’t do it anymore.” You collapse onto the edge of your bed, praying the tears will go away so you can get a coherent thought out, shaking your head.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.” You weep quietly.
All he can do is whisper your name to break the deafening silence.
“Just leave,” you look at him with red, tear-filled eyes, “please.”
“But we should talk-”
“I won’t do this anymore…I just can’t,” you can’t stop crying, “please leave.”
There isn’t anything more heart-breaking than when the door shuts behind your best friend, you are left alone to steep in the figurative mess left around you. A storm rages your mind while tear after tear continues to fall, even when you occupy yourself with stuffing everything into your suitcase. Some hours pass when you’re still in your room, suitcase packed. You can hear Mai enter their room, voice muffled behind the closed door she was so used to being open.
Follows is a stern call of her name from Jungkook just before the doorknob turns but abruptly stops along with your heart. You can hear her asking him why before you assume he pulls her away from the door.
You force your eyes shut, pressing your tear-stained face into your pillow and praying the last day on this god-awful ship will magically be over when you open your eyes again. Body exhausted from the emotional day, you feel yourself sink into darkness until all subconscious thought disappears.
It was a fight to get Mai to understand why you weren’t going home with them the next morning. You never lied to her. Not once in all of these years. Not until today when you told her it had to do with work, that was why. She slumped into her grandma’s hug before going over to the car per Jungkook’s request who was standing near you.
“Jungkook, I just want to go home and I already called an Uber so-”
He just nods but you can see the hurt in his eyes, “will you text me-us? Text us when you get home?”
You look down at your phone, “I-um- I need to go over to the waiting area where I’ll be picked up, thanks for inviting me.” With that, you’re turning away before he can even breathe a second time. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from you, watching you walk away, wanting to watch you until you're a speck in the distance.
“Mai is buckled in Jungkook-ah.” His dad calls him away before he can do any of that.
His thoughts spiral on the drive back home.
‘I can’t do this anymore…I won’t do this.’ Your words play like a broken movie reel in his mind. A sick feeling settles in Jungkook’s stomach; a strong taste of bile rises in his throat as he wonders if you mean it.
The days following begin to fuse into the next before you realize two weeks have gone by. Two weeks of missed phone calls from Jungkook but even more painful are the missed calls from their house phone.
Mai.
You have to hold your stomach every time you think of Mai. The innocent one caught between two adults she thinks the world of, the only two who are her entire world. It’s enough to make you want to lose all contents of your stomach which hasn’t been much lately. Getting by on a couple of sips from your morning tea and a bite or two of unbuttered sourdough bread before heading off to work.
Everything has lost its taste, life as you know it has lost flavor.
You always enjoyed work, as stressful as it could be at times. But it was becoming your mute therapist because you couldn’t talk about the things warring your mind. They just bottled inside of you, one after the other; when would it finally implode?
Three knocks sound at your front door and you jump away from the counter, a small plate with a sad sandwich placed on top of it. You abandon it, you’re sure the bread is starting to mold anyway. Poking your head around the corner, your eyes are wide as they stare down the narrow hallway. The runner in the center of the floor is left askew, shoes tossed under the hallway table cluttered with your keys and three days of mail; everything is left unopened.
The doorbell screeches like a hungry crow; you yelp a curse before clamping your hand over your mouth. There’s no way he has the gull to show up at your house…
A muffled call of your name sounds on the other side of the door followed by rapid presses of the doorbell.
It’s Nic.
You sigh, moving down the hallway as quickly as you can before tearing the door open. Nic stands there with her arm up, her hand fisted ready to knock on the door, “well, hello stranger!” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and a toothy smile to boot. She’s already setting her things down on the small breakfast nook that separates the kitchen from the living room, she follows your every move until you’re standing on the opposite side of the counter, a waiting expression sits on her face.
“Wine?” She asks. You’re impressed when she pulls a long bottle out of her purse, something like Mary Poppins would do if she wasn’t so cheerful.
You shake your head, pushing the bottle back into her bag, “I’m cutting myself off forever.”
“Ah,” she nods knowingly and it’s confirmation enough that she is aware of the revelation that occurred on the cruise. You know he called her and asked her to check on you.
You lean onto the counter and Nic does the same after propping herself up on a barstool, “he sent you,” you state rather than ask. You know your best friends through and through. And beneath your broken pride and splitting heart, you can admit that they know you just the same.
Instead of a joke, she just purses her lips and offers you an apologetic smile, “he did.”
You shrug, resting your hand under your chin. The two of you continue in a stare-off that holds a thousand words between your shaking eyes and Nic’s patient ones. She doesn’t press you like you’re used to, but perhaps that’s because she can see the sheen across your eyes or the way you keep swallowing back the lump in your throat.
Nic, opinionated in all her ways and always managing to impose them on the ones she holds near and dear, bites her bottom lip when you close your eyes only for a few tears to fall shortly after.
She clears her throat, pressing a tissue into your hand while your head hangs low; “you should talk to him, babe.”
You’re shaking your head and Nic sighs, biting back her words until you pick your head up to look at her.
She’s careful but direct; “So that’s it, you just cut him off? For how long are you planning on doing that - for forever?” Nic knows how ridiculous that sounds. Even more than when you swore you would take your once secret love for Jungkook to the grave.
“That’s the plan,” you croak, pressing the tissue over your eyes so it can soak up your tears.
“And Mai?” Nic retorts.
Your hands drop onto the counter along with your stomach; there’s no answer for that.
“Custody isn’t necessarily a thing between friends-”
“Nic,” you give her a stern look and she apologizes.
“Look, you don’t need me to say this because I know you, and I know how much you love Mai,” Nic’s tone sounds desperate for you to hear her, “but I’m going to say it anyway - I get seeing him and talking to him sounds incredibly painful, but are you really willing to lose that little girl’s trust? I mean anyone can see that she worships the ground you walk on,” Nic can’t help but chuckle but her seriousness never fades, “if you decide never to talk to them again, that-” Nic pushes her pointer finger onto the countertop, “that will be excruciating for her…” The second to pause allows you to feel the final crushing of your heart before Nic finishes.
“You can’t make this choice for her and not be in her life all of a sudden just because you want to run away from reality - Mai is just as much in this painful reality with you and Jungkook.”
You hate how right she is. You hate that Nic has taken every single word out of your mouth and made sense of it.
The sun is setting over the city as Jungkook continues to stare out the window of his office. It’s the end of a long workday. He’s tired after showing several houses from one end of the boulevard to the other. His feet hurt, his neck is aching, and he’s sick of wearing this stupid suit.
But he can’t think of anything else. He can’t think of anyone else. All he can think about is you. Sick with worry about his daughter who has no understanding of what’s happened. She’s asked to sleep with him every night for the past two weeks, it was the only thing that could soothe her anxiety. He wanted to be mad at you for cutting Mai off. Himself, he could understand, but Mai? Then again, he wondered how much he was to blame too. Did he unintentionally put his daughter in this spot? Going out with a different woman at least a few nights a week, asking you to babysit Mai every time? If he had just been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.
He scoffs at himself, ripping his tie from around his neck and tossing it onto his desk. Of course, idiot, if you just confessed years ago, this wouldn’t be happening. Mai wouldn’t be experiencing her first heartbreak at seven years old. Selfishly, he wouldn’t have had to see the hurt that split you right down the middle when he waltzed in that night covered in another woman’s touch.
All the times you saw him that way.
Idiot. He has to laugh. Idiot doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Hi baby,” Jungkook sweeps Mai into his arms when he finally arrives home, relieving the babysitter. Mai rests her head on his shoulder, pressing the moles she can see on his face with her finger. He’s not used to her being so quiet.
It’s late; way past her bedtime.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Mai sighs into his shoulder.
“I know,” he rubs her back, walking into her bedroom. Maybe she could manage it tonight. Mai doesn’t fight it, climbing under her comforter when Jungkook pulls it back for her. He sits on the floor next to her bed, knees curled up to his chest, he looks back at Mai whose eyes glisten under the glow of the starry night light, “guess we need to talk, huh?” She asks.
Jungkook chuckles, pinching her cheek, “shoot.”
Mai’s eyelashes flutter when she looks away, “she always has dinner with us on Sundays,” she starts, “is she mad at me?”
Jungkook is quick to settle her disquieting thoughts, “never in a million years bud, she could never be upset with you.”
“Then why isn’t she coming over to see me?” Mai isn’t crying, but her eyes look back at Jungkook and he can feel a tear in his heart when she does.
He sighs, holding Mai’s hand inside of his; “I hurt her feelings, so I think seeing you makes it hard for her because I’m always with you, right?”
Mai nods, “So say you’re sorry dad.”
He muffles a laugh, “it’s not that easy for adults sometimes.”
“Why? Don’t you miss her too?”
“I do,” he admits, “and I care a lot about her too.” Jungkook says, eying Mai, searching for the right words before he continues, “do you know what that means, bean?” He rests his chin on top of his hand, stroking her hair away from her face with the other. Mai observes her dad, hands pressed underneath her cheek.
“Grandma says when you care about people, it means you love them, so-” she twitches her nose inquisitively and Jungkook can’t help but giggle, leaning in to pinch it, “ask me questions,” he says, helping her out.
Mai yawns, not too far from sleep. But Jungkook can’t resist this time before bed, when his daughter is on the precipice of sweet slumber and they are alone, talking about whatever. Most of the time they are teasing each other, but if Mai has spent the day with you, Jungkook especially wanted to hear about it.
“I guess, does it mean you love her like you love me?” Mai asks.
The corner of his lips quirk into a smile, “I love you more than you can ever know-” he stops to catch the twinkle in his daughter’s eye, “but this love is a little bit different.”
Mai nods and follows with a big yawn. Jungkook leans in once more to kiss her forehead, “sleep tight.”
“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” May yawns again.
Before Jungkook steps out of her room, Mai squeaks, “dad?”
“Yeah?” He turns in a heartbeat.
“I love her too, and well you know how the other kids at school-well most kids have their moms you know?”
He can feel the final shattering inside of him when he goes to rub his chest. Jungkook moves in, sitting next to Mai when she sits up, “I feel like I love her how a kid is supposed to love their mom-like she is the very best friend I will ever get to have, dad,” Mai looks up at him, “if she is mad at you, please make it better because I think we need her for forever.”
Tears brim the outside of Jungkook’s eyes, his smile trembling when he stares down at his literal heart in the shape of his child; “I love you so much,” he pulls her into his lap where Mai finds solace hiding her face in his shoulder.
“But my friend at school can never know that, it would hurt her feelings,” Mai muffles against him. Jungkook manages a gentle laugh, pressing a long kiss to the top of Mai’s head, his tears going unnoticed by his daughter.
The last time you received a call from Mai’s school was a year ago, she pushed a boy who tried to put a dead lizard on top of her head. He fell back and scraped his elbow. Mai was not about to let the school call her dad.
‘He won’t be as mad if you’re with me!’ She insisted, holding her hand in yours as the two of you crossed the street, a detention slip in her other hand.
Listed as the third emergency contact under her grandma, your stomach churns, wondering why they would be calling you. There is no question whether you would answer or not.
“Hello?” You breathe slowly into the phone.
The woman on the other end informs you she’s the principal; “Mai’s father and grandma haven’t returned our calls; the kids had an early release today but it appears they have forgotten to pick her up, and the buses have all gone.”
You frown, they never forget to pick Mai up from school. And if either one couldn’t, you were the next in line if she wasn’t going to take the bus; “oh-uh okay, I-um-I can be there in-” you look at the clock above your desk, ignoring the incomplete work before you, “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
You rush around the room to gather your things, darting for the door with your keys in hand.
By the time you’re walking up to the school Mai is running through the main doors, the principal right behind her smiling as Mai meets you halfway. She clings around your waist and it instantly causes your eyes to water, “hi bean.”
“I missed you,” she says, pulling herself off of you only to grab your hand. She pulls you with fervor to your car, barely giving you time to look back and wave at the principal.
Once settled in the car you turn towards the backseat and look at her with raised brows, “did they know you were getting out early?”
Mai purses her lips, eyes widening when she shrugs in response, quick to open a book to read when you start the car.
“Hm,” you turn around without much afterthought, making the drive back to their house. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks since that morning which you’ve tried desperately to forget, and three weeks since talking to Jungkook and Mai.
You aren’t sure what classifies as tension between an adult and a child, but the Mai who is usually speaking faster than she can keep up with has taken to staring out the window, staring at the buildings whizzing by and trees blending into the other. You look into the rearview mirror every so often, pretending you don’t know why she looks so indifferent.
Hugging you was a good sign, but now she seems awkward, dashing out of your car and beating you to the front door. You eye each other when you make it there. She gives you a sarcastic look, looking at your keys for a moment before you get the hint. You always had a set of keys to their house. It felt weird using them now.
Mai pushes the door open impatiently, the keys still in the lock with your hand attached to it, “hey-geez, slow down will you-no running-” you smack your tongue, setting your things down when Mai runs down the hallway to her bedroom.
Your chest fills with air as you take a glance around their home, singing praises that Jungkook’s car is not in the driveway meaning he must have been too busy to eat lunch at home.
“Mai,” your voice echoes down the hallway, “Mai you know shouldn’t be running in the house.”
She’s sitting at the small table her grandpa made for her, her homework already laid out and a pencil in hand. You watch her for a moment, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment of what you’ve said. But she just sits there, chin resting in her hand while she reads over the assignment.
You sigh, moving to sit on the floor next to her, looking over her paper to read the words but all you can see is the blank expression on Mai’s face. You poke her hand, “anybody in there?”
She moves her hand into her lap and starts writing.
You know why she’s doing this and you can’t be upset, but it does sting a little. Usually, it’s a fight to get her to do her homework when you’re around; “so you’re just going to ignore me? I thought you missed me.”
It’s only then that her eyes dart to meet yours, her eyes a mirrored reflection of her father’s. It’s always amazed you how they twinkle like stardust is floating around in them. You attempt a smile but it just falls when you notice how her eyes are glistening with tears.
“I missed you too bean-”
“Na-uh, I’m a kid but you don’t need to lie to me, I’m a tough kid.” She defends herself.
“Mai,” you sigh.
“If you missed me then you would have come to see me, but you didn’t for three whole weeks, so you’re just a liar,” Mai abandons her pencil and drops her face onto the table, creating a barrier around her head with her arms.
That cuts you deep.
A liar.
You sit there and listen to her sniffle before working up the courage to touch her arm, she flinches and you wait for her to pull away but it’s more surprising when she doesn’t.
“Bean, will you look at me please?” Your tone is soft as you rub her arm. She shakes her head.
“Please," is all you can say. You watch her chest heave when she complies a minute later, cheeks wet from her tears, she can hardly keep her eyes on you. You reach over and wipe her face with the back of your hand, squeezing her chin in the process. She bites back a smile.
“You lost a tooth!” You gasp, holding onto her chin and moving it down to reveal the new gap in her bottom teeth. She can’t help but perk up at you noticing, “it fell out when I bit into an apple,” she giggles. You laugh with her, watching her round cheeks glow pink; “Mai, I really have missed you.”
She moves her lips in a thinking manner, finally, you can breathe a little bit easier when her eyes find you, “I told dad you are my best friend. And usually best friends like to see each other, so,” she hums, scrounging around for her thoughts, “so you didn’t come over and I thought you just didn’t want me to be your friend anymore.”
You’re shaking your head, cursing at yourself, “that would never happen, not in a million lifetimes kid because you’re my best friend too.”
She understands but you can still see the questioning in her expression as she tries to piece it all together so it can make sense. You pull Mai closer to you until she is sitting right in front of you, her legs tucked underneath herself; “I am so sorry bean, for not talking to you and for not coming around-” you start but you wonder how to continue, looking around the room as if there is some viable answer written on the walls, “I was…angry about something and it hurt me really bad. So I thought being alone would make me feel better.”
Mai plays with your hands, perhaps not even noticing she is doing it, “did it?”
You have to chuckle at her, if only you had a measure of Mai’s honesty, you and Jungkook would not be in this current situation, “no, because I just ended up hurting the one person who means so much to me, the only one who has never hurt me back.”
Mai looks at you hopefully, “me?”
A smile beams across your face and you pull Mai into you until she is giggling, “yes you, silly.”
After a moment of light-heartedness, Mai settles back down, drawing circles into the shag rug, “dad said he hurt your feelings, so I guess this is all his fault.”
You hum, rubbing your hand over her hair, “well - no, I can’t put all the blame-”
“MAI?” The desperate yell for her name causes both of you to jump. Mai clamors to her feet, darting into her bathroom and slamming the door shut.
“What-Mai?” You’re launched into a panic, one over the fact that Mai’s face drained of any color at the sound of her dad’s gruff voice and second, it’s Jungkook’s voice.
Her name falls off of his tongue like rapid fire. Before you can say anything he tears into Mai’s bedroom and comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you. He’s breathless, staring at you. All you can manage is to gesture at the bathroom door, “she ran in there.” Just then Mrs. Jeon comes in behind her son, worried eyes finding relief upon seeing you, “oh thank God, please tell me Mai is here,” she sighs.
You nod, confused as ever, “her principal called me because it was an early day and nobody was there to pick her up…” You stop, realizing there was a major miscommunication and Mai was the culprit.
Jungkook’s eyes are fierce, eyebrows in a straight line when he moves in front of the bathroom door, hand rattling the doorknob which is now locked. He makes a fist ready to pound on it when his mom stops him, “you’ll just make it worse,” she speaks calmly, looking back at you. Her hands are trembling when she reaches out to you, you move forward and grab them.
You fumble with words, “She must’ve-”
“We’ve been looking everywhere for the last hour - since when did my kid start scheming - open this door Mai!” Jungkook starts again, his worry fuming out of him.
“Jungkook-ah, please,” Mrs. Jeon pleaded, pushing herself between the door and her son, “the important part is that she is safe…why don’t you go to the kitchen, get some water and just relax for a moment.”
“Mom-”
She shakes her head, “I will talk to her, now go.”
Hesitantly he drags his feet and leaves the room. Your stomach does flips when Mrs. Jeon settles her attention on you, hand resting on the doorknob of Mai’s bathroom.
Please, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-
“Will you keep an eye on him, please? I don’t know why but he’s been so worked up lately-” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, unsure of what else to say. You take a deep breath in, nodding as you march out of the room at a snail’s pace.
He’s bent at the waist, face pressed into his palms before he runs them back through his hair- it’s shorter now. He takes a deep breath that is promptly cut off when he sees you standing there, your hands resting on top of the granite countertop. Your fingers twitch with anxiety, palms feeling clammy as your heartbeat picks up again.
He finishes a glass of water, turning around to set it down in the sink. He doesn’t look back at you, resting his hands at the edge of the counter, “thanks for being there,” his voice is barely audible, “you-uh, you don’t have to stay-”
“I’m sorry.”
His shoulders tense, another breath is trapped in his throat at the sound of your voice. It rasps and shakes at the threat of new tears but you hold them back for as long as you can. You aren’t sure how long that will last.
“Jungkook?” You aren’t confident saying his name, unsure if he is seething because of Mai or if it’s really because of you.
He nods before turning around, looking at the top of your head before his gaze shakes over your eyes until he gives up, looking down at the floor.
“I don’t know-” you stop when you hear Mrs. Jeon come down the hallway, she stands next to you and rubs your back, a more relaxed smile on her face.
“She failed to let us know that it was an early day, says she forgot,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs. You and Jungkook look at each other knowing full well that Mai is the mastermind behind this very moment; “but she understands the severity of what she caused and is ready to apologize to you,” his mom looks from her son to you, “and you.”
Jungkook thanks her and walks her to the front door after she hugs you; “oh,” she calls to you gently, “come over for dinner soon? It’s like pulling teeth to get this boy to bring you over, we miss you.”
You just nod, smiling at her before Jungkook closes the door behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, reclaiming his spot across from you. The island provides a safe space between the two of you as you lean your weight against it.
“I’m sorry,” his tone is unsure but you can feel the guilt radiate from him, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that,” he sighs, “and so many other things.” He mutters the last part but you manage to hear it.
“I was hurt,” you swallow so hard that even he can hear it, “I’ve had so much pent up - for years…I just lost it.”
“We always talk about everything. I mean, d-don’t you think I would have wanted to know about something that important?” His words are desperate to be heard, steeped in weeks of constant questioning.
“You make it sound like confessing is so easy,” you can’t help the frown that appears, “the risk involved? Because telling you just so I can be rejected doesn’t mean just losing you,” your voice struggles, “I’ll lose Mai too and god, I can’t stomach that.”
He’s looking at you now, directly at you, blinking away what you can only assume are tears.
“I-I didn’t want to risk that so I held it in, I pushed it away until I believed that I didn’t love you anymore but,” you shake your head, “I realized it wasn’t going to go away even after every date you came home from. How I’ve had to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when you traipse in after you’ve been with another woman, a woman that could never be me - will never be me. I was so mad that I couldn’t be jealous enough or hurt enough by that to stop loving you. I want to stop, but I can’t figure out how-” your words taper off when you notice a trace of a smile spreads across his lips.
“Are you sm-smiling?” Your hands tremble and you’re ready to storm out of there.
He is smiling, it’s barely there but you can see it.
“Can I say something?” His eyebrows lift as he looks at you with hopeful eyes.
You aren’t sure if you should be offended by the crooked smile on his face, the same one that melts your insides and makes your palms sweat. You just nod, ready to take on another offense.
“I love you too.” His voice is shaking.
Everything stops. Your heart launches into your throat and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore. You can feel your mouth fall open, you have to tell yourself to close it. Jungkook just waits.
The confident, suave Jungkook you know all too well is replaced by the loving human you have known even more. The man who masks his worth with fleeting escapades that never last past one night or a weekend at most.
“What? What do you mean,” you stutter, your lungs feel like they are collapsing, “why are you telling me this now?”
Jungkook closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, “I’m scared too.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.
He takes you in, the intensity of his stare enough to make you fall back, you can only hope there’s enough strength left in your legs to hold yourself up. Your stomach flips when he makes a step forward to which you take one back.
“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything when it all happened,” his feet move toward you again in one small step, “I wanted to tell you then but rightfully so, you were so upset. Then you were telling me to leave-”
“I didn’t-I-”
“You didn’t want me to reject you?” Jungkook fills in the blanks for you. You nod sheepishly, wringing your hand around your wrist.
The air stills when Jungkook’s fingertips graze your hand, “have I ever rejected you since we’ve known each other?”
Your mind races. Intentionally, no he hasn’t. As much as you dropped everything to be with Mai, Jungkook would do the same. When your car broke down on the freeway late one night? Jungkook was there before the tow truck, a sleeping Mai in the back seat of their car. When you didn’t get the promotion you worked tirelessly to earn? He was at your apartment to pick up the pieces, later that night you and Mai baked cookies together and ended that awful day with a movie - the three of you cuddled up on your couch.
Jungkook has always been there.
“God, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jungkook can’t stop himself long enough to allow you to stay in your thoughts. He can practically see your heart thumping out of your chest, he can feel your warm breath stagger out of your mouth. It isn’t until he decides to reach up and touch your neck with a ghostly touch does your breathing still. His touch is so slight it leaves goosebumps all over your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat when his hand grazes your jaw before he cups it around the side of your face. His fingers rub the shell of your ear.
“Do you still want me?” He fills the gap between you with careful steps; you can see the longing in his eyes and you wonder for how long you’ve missed that. With the little space left, it’s almost too difficult to look up at him; “Jungkook I-”
His breath stops at the sound of your voice like he’s ready for the ultimate rejection. His beating heart prepares for more pain.
“Yes,” You’re breathless. You only catch a second of the smile spreading his cheeks before he pulls you in. Muscular arms wrapping tightly around you but he’s careful to leave breathing room. All too naturally, your face nuzzles in his shoulder, breathing in his scent as your arms fold around his waist.
His nose presses into your hair, cheek warm against your temple.
“Wait,” you push your hands against his chest to create space. He grabs your hands to keep you close, “are you serious?”
He chuckles, nodding, his warm breath casts over your face, putting you deeper under his spell.
“After all of that happened, I didn’t think I had a chance. I didn’t think it could even be a possibility before,” his eyes look uncertain now, “you know too much about me,” he runs his fingers back through your hair, “but you are everything to me…you’ve loved Mai without me even asking you to,” he sighs, his expressions always more serious than most but it’s the Jungkook you know. Innocent eyes staring down at you, “watching you with Mai these last seven years has been the highlight of my life, but it was torturous too-”
You press your face into his chest, chuckling while tears overcome you, “torturous?”
Jungkook picks your chin up and kisses your tears away; “you were always in arm's reach but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I just settled to silently love you.”
You shake your head, allowing Jungkook to wipe each tear away with his thumb.
“I was afraid it would confuse Mai. She’s my world too, you know?” You whisper.
“She’s too wise for her age,” he brushes his nose against yours, wearing the smile that exposes his bunny teeth, “trust me, she knows enough that we should be a family.”
His eyes search for an answer in yours, you don’t have to ask for the question running through his mind when his gaze sweeps over your lips. The only thing that forces him to stop is when he chuckles low.
“What?” You smile, head floating in ecstasy, you think you could pass out.
“I guess that stupid fortune was true.”
You shake your head with a small smile. He fidgets, “I love you-” he manages to get out before your lips press against his. They are slightly chapped but so soft as they mold to yours. You can feel your skin growing hot when his tongue rubs against your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to burst right then and there, fallen victim to his tender kiss.
“I love you,” you stop to say. His slight pout at the break in your kiss makes you chuckle.
Jungkook lets his chin rest against your shoulder when he pulls you in, the two of you staying that way for a little bit. If not for the quiet pad of Mai’s bare feet tapping down the hallway, he thinks he could have stayed that way with you all night.
His eyes brighten when he sees Mai stoke around the corner, saucer-sized eyes spying on the two of you.
“Come here bean,” Jungkook’s voice surprises you, and you pull away as Mai runs into the kitchen. Before you can say anything to her, she wraps her arms around your middle, nose pressed into your hip. She muffles something.
You sniffle, “I can’t understand you,” you giggle, grabbing her chin in a tender grip so she can look up at you. Her eyes are wet again, resting her chin against your stomach, “I said, I love you.” Mai whispers like her dad can’t hear her. Her cheeks grow red and she immediately shies away.
Jungkook rubs her back with a loving stroke when he hears your breath catch in your throat. You kneel and take Mai’s face in your hands, “I love you so much, bean.”
“Enough to stick around forever?” She laughs nervously, swallowing back a soft cry, “because it was horrible without you, dad doesn’t know how to build forts like you do.” Jungkook laughs, nudging Mai’s back with his knee.
There’s a gentle mending in your heart when she says that, you stroke her hair and laugh with glistening eyes, “I promise I’ll build forts with you until we’re both too big to fit in them, and even then kid, you can’t ever get rid of me.” You are struggling to hold back the ugliest of sobs.
Mai doesn’t answer, she only falls forward into your arms, nuzzling her face into your hair. Jungkook joins you, resting on his knees to wrap the two of you into his hold.
You pull your face away enough so you can look at him. He kisses you before mouthing the words you’ve so yearned to hear him say; “I love you.”
#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#dad!jungkook#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts angst#i can't wait...series by serendipitous-seven#my reposts from moon-write
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Can Anybody See Me?
I just finished this first part of my Eddie adopting Steve in his senior year after his fall from grace and wanted to put it up.
Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.
Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)
*
“Mr Munson?” the teacher called.
Eddie’s head snapped to the front of the class from where it had been watching King Steve Harrington throwing up in the garbage can.
“When Mr Harrington is done spilling his guts, would you please take him to the nurse’s station?”
Eddie pointed at himself and mouthed the word “me?”
He looked around the classroom and was shocked to find that Steve’s friends were either trying not to look at him or were actually snickering.
The teacher sighed. “Yes. If you would please.”
“Yeah Munson,” someone called. “Freaks should stick together after all.”
Eddie made a note of who it was and vowed to never to sell to the asshole again. He stood up and walked to the back of the room. He knelt down next to Steve and put his hand on his back.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You okay?”
Steve looked up at him blearily. “Munson?”
Eddie looked up at the teacher. “Would it be okay if we take the bin with us? So we don’t disturb the rest of the class?”
The teacher nodded, looking relieved.
Eddie helped Steve to his feet and made sure the other boy had a good handle on the bin and gently walked him outside. The cool air of the hallway hit them like a truck. But Steve beside him sighed in relief.
Eddie finally got a good look at Steve’s face, blackened and bruised as it was. “Who did you in?”
Steve’s head lulled back like a rag doll. “Billy Hargrove.”
Eddie’s eyebrows went up and led Steve over to the wall next to the door. Steve slid to the floor, clutching the bin.
“Aren’t you two on the basketball team or whatever?” Eddie asked, moving to sit next to him.
“The king is dead, all hail the king,” Steve slurred.
Eddie scoffed. At least someone was getting something from their history class because it sure the hell wasn’t him.
“With the second concussion in two years, I’m off the team anyway,” Steve continued.
“Second?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “What the hell have you been doing man?”
Steve’s eyes focused momentarily. “Picking fights with boys that can kick my ass because they’re picking on kids that can’t defend themselves.”
“Actual kids?” Eddie asked his opinion of Billy dropping further than it already was.
“Does a thirteen year old still count as a kid?” Steve asked seriously.
Fuck.
“Yeah, yeah it does,” Eddie replied softly.
“I have this kid that I watch once and while,” Steve murmured, “actually I watch a half dozen, but anyway. Lucas Sinclair is really good at basketball and he tried out for the team. Billy decided to be a racist bastard about it. I clocked him and he laid me out. Literally.”
“Is that the reason for the...?” he waved at the bin and Steve’s face.
“Yup,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “Did you know that the nausea and dizziness of concussion can last longer than the actual concussion? Because I sure the hell didn’t.”
Eddie winced. “You up for the trek to the nurse’s office yet?”
Steve opened his eyes and looked over at the other boy. “I worry it’s the moving that’s making me puke.”
Eddie blinked and the cocked his head. “That’s a fair assessment, but you won’t know until you try.”
Steve nodded and then hissed. Eddie got his arm under him and gently lifted him to his feet.
Steve moaned.
“You good?” Eddie asked.
“Give me second,” Steve mumbled. He breathed heavily, trying to stop the world from spinning. “Okay. Yeah.”
Eddie moved them slowly through the halls to the nurse’s station. He didn’t throw up once which Eddie counted as a win.
“Messers Munson and Harrington,” the nurse greeted. “What causes you to darken my step today?”
Eddie grinned. “Nurse Ratchet, what a pleasure it is to see you again. I am here under orders to bring King Steve to you as he up chucked his lunch in math class.”
“It’s Nurse Kincade to you, Munson,” she bit out. “Put him on the table.”
Eddie steered Steve over to the table and looked him over. Steve was sweating from the exersion which considering he was in better shape than Eddie was that was a problem.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”
Steve looked up at him and gulped. “Nah, man. You need to get back to class. You don’t want to be caught associating with me anyway.”
Eddie reared his head back. He was pretty sure that was his line. But he knew better than to argue. So he held up his hands and backed away slowly, listening to Steve explain to the nurse what had happened. Eddie grabbed the bin and cleaned it out before he returned to class. He had briefly thought to leave as a prank. But they would know it was him and he promised his Uncle Wayne that he wouldn’t get detention this year.
And while he also knew Uncle Wayne meant the school year, the year of 1984 was ending and he could at least last that long.
He got back to class and stood at the door. He really didn’t want to go in but class had fifteen minutes left and that was too long for him to wait. So with a heavy sigh he yanked open the door.
The teacher clocked him immediately. “You left Mr Harrington alone?”
Eddie threw up his hands again. “Dude wanted me to leave, I know better than to overstay my welcome.”
The teacher rolled his eyes. “And yet, here you are in my class for the second year in a row.”
Eddie grinned. “Aww, teach. That’s not overstaying my welcome, that’s tenacity.”
“This is algebra Mr Munson, not English,” he moaned. “Please take your seat.”
He could hear the snickering behind him, but he didn’t care. He thought about a boy who looked after kids that were barely teenagers and took beatings for them, to protect them. He thought about mismatched hazel eyes, one almost swollen shut. He thought about the inherent kindness of a beat down soul and wondered what made him kind in this cruel world.
*
Eddie spotted Steve at lunch, sitting by himself, pushing the food around on his tray. He was probably still feeling nauseous. He went to the vending machine and got ginger ale. As he passed by Steve, he looked at the bottle in his hand.
“Fuck,” he murmured. “I wanted a Coke. Hey, Harrington, you like ginger ale?”
Steve’s head snapped up in shock. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been known to like it on occasion.”
Eddie tossed it at him. “Here, you have it.”
He went and sat down by his friends. All three of them were juniors but he been friends with them since the talent show in middle school. They were in a band together called Corroded Coffin and they were pretty damn good if he thought so himself.
“What was that about, man?” Jeff asked.
Eddie turned to Jeff. He knew of all the boys at this table would understand why he threw Harrington a bone. He leaned in close so only his friends could hear.
“Harrington got his bell rung by Hargrove for protecting the Sinclair boy,” he whispered.
All three boys lifted their heads to look over at Steve who was sipping the ginger ale and starting to eat a little.
They hunched back into their circle.
“Looks like Hargrove got him good,” Gareth said. “What was the ginger ale for?”
“It’s good for nausea,” Eddie whispered. “He threw up in math class and I had to take him to the nurse’s station.”
“But I thought Carol and them were in that class, too,” Brian murmured.
Eddie shook his head. “They are, man. But Steve’s on the outs with the whole lot.”
Jeff frowned. “I didn’t think that Mr Harrington would have let his boy hang out with the Sinclairs.”
Eddie looked over at Steve and then back down to his friends. “I’m only telling you what he told me.”
His friends nodded. Whatever was going on, the Corroded Coffin boys were too far down the social ladder to be in the know.
Eddie looked over at the lonely boy one more time. Something didn’t feel right. Something else was going on, something darker. One didn’t simply go from the top of the social elite to less than the weirdos overnight for nothing. And Eddie was going to find out what.
Now with part 2 and part 3 part 4 part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
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You Really Thought You Could Just Take Them From Me?
(Vox Edition)
(Vox x GN!Reader)
Author's Note: Bruh I was just gonna do this neat little idea of how some of the Hazbin guys react to someone kidnapping their S/O. It was just gonna be some headcanons, and then I was like ooo some headcanons and a tiny imagine. And then I did this because I was having fun and kept writing. So I'll probably just give everyone their own separate post since it ended up being longer than I anticipated haha. The others I'll do this scenario for are Alastor, Lucifer, and Zestial because I adore him and there isn't much of him. I'm open to others as well if anyone wants!
Tags: Violence, possessive Vox, I just enjoy writing possessive and protective people okay??? And I think you all do too since the other one I wrote that you guys liked he literally electrocuted someone to death for his S/O lol
Vox
Is annoyed at first when you don't show up to your scheduled date.
He's an incredibly busy man and you both know that and he does his best to make time for you so you don't usually miss these.
Once he remembers how unusual this is for you his annoyance turns to worry.
You really wouldn't miss one of these unless it was something serious, right?
His panic starts slow and builds itself into a crescendo over time, even as he tries to calm himself and tell himself everything is okay even as his repeated calls go to voicemail.
With each successive voicemail left, the pit in his stomach grows larger and heavier.
It isn't much longer after that before he zaps himself away through one of his cameras, almost instantaneously zipping through the electric network to bring himself back into his office.
He ignores Velvette's question of why he's back so soon, single mindedly focused now.
As soon as he's sitting down and plugged in he's scouring every camera he has access to, going back to find your last known location.
His panic just rises the longer it goes before he finally catches sight of the back of your head and then the air leaves his lungs entirely. He hadn't even realized how dizzy he was becoming from holding his breath, or even that he was.
He eyes you now, looking for what happened. At this point he's almost praying you accidentally blew him off because it would mean you were safe.
But he is in Hell, and there is no God that would listen to his prayers down here.
Vox is tapping his foot impatiently and checking his watch for what feels like the hundredth time as he sits and waits for you.
You were so late. You knew he was busy, that these pockets of time he carved out for you were hard to come by. How could you possibly think to blow him off, of all people?! You've never done that before!
And then the jiggling of his foot stops, a realization dawning on him. You...hadn't ever done this before. Not in all the many many dates and rendezvous you've had. You... probably wouldn't miss this unless there was something serious happening. But then he's shaking his head and trying to rationalize it, not wanting to immediately go nuclear like Valentino would and then end up being embarrassed when you show up five minutes later. He calls you then, the profile picture of you blowing him a kiss appearing on his screen as the dialing starts. He raps his claws against the table as he impatiently waits for you to pick up.
But you don't pick up. He's trying to ensure he doesn't sound desperate and he hopes he keeps his voice level enough to not betray that he is beginning to get worried over you, again it would be embarrassing to get that worked up and you just got held up by something mundane.
"Hey Dollface, it's me. I hope you haven't forgotten our little lunch date? I was really excited to see you after a pretty boring morning. Call me."
He keeps it simple, like he's simply reminding you before he hangs up, like he isn't really that bothered. He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair in the restaurant, trying to keep those paranoid thoughts at bay even as they gnaw at him.
Another five minutes and he's calling again. He doesn't hide his panic as well as he did the first time.
"Hello love, it's me again. Can you just...at least message me or call me so I know you're okay and just running late?" He finishes before shooting you off a text as well in case you couldn't pick up the phone but could text him.
But not even that works, and he's growling in frustration now. He swears if you don't answer this next call he's going to lose it, but even it goes to voicemail and he can't push the panic back anymore as he leaves one last voicemail, raising his voice loud enough for other nearby tables to hear.
"Okay. Look, I'm going to be honest with you. If I don't get a call or text back in five fucking minutes so I know you're on your way I'm tearing this entire fucking city apart until I find you."
To anyone around him this would sound almost like a threat, but if you had heard it you would know it was a promise of safety.
He waits until precisely five minutes pass, on the dot, and then he morphs himself into electricity, zipping his way through the electric network to get back to VoxTek.
He's so worried now he doesn't even register Velvette asking why he's back so early, and jokingly asking if you two had a spat. But she sees the look on his face and his silence, and it's enough of an indicator to leave it be, whatever this is. So she returns to her phone as she watches Vox go further in. She wasn't going to get involved in whatever mess this was unless needed.
He's plugged in before he's even sitting down fully in his chair, screens lighting up of views across the city and he's searching now. He starts with the route from the place you mentioned wanting to go to this morning to the location of the lunch date, reviewing footage to find something.
Finally, finally he catches sight of the back of your head, exhaling so hard it almost makes him dizzy. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breathe.
He zeroes in on you now, looking to see what went wrong. You're walking fast and checking your phone, and he checks the timestamp and sees it is fairly close to when your date was scheduled. He feels relieved, but almost stupid with his over reaction. He actually drags his hand down his face in sheer embarrassment, his screen tinted pink along the center line. You were just running late. He's about to unplug and head back to the restaurant when he sees you duck down an alley for a shortcut.
He switches to another camera, that has a slightly better view of the alley just to ensure you did indeed make it back safely, and sees you run face first into the back of someone because you were checking the time again, so intent on making your way to him on time. You run into them so hard that they stumble forward and fall and you do too.
Vox can't pick up the sound clearly enough from this far, but he can tell you're apologizing but this demon doesn't seem to care. He's immediately grabbing your arms and trying to drag you along with him, you fighting every step of the way.
Vox didn't know what he was dragging you off to do but it doesn't matter. Either way this man can count the hours he had left to live on one hand. He makes the footage fast forward and follows along with his cameras until he sees the two of you enter a building.
Fucking finally, a lead.
He rips the cables out so unceremoniously fast that it hurts a moment, a pain dulled by the adrenaline he's feeling, and then he's zapping himself again to the camera he had closest to the building.
His worry had turned to anger, palpable to those around him from the errant sparks that bounced off the sidewalk with each step he took. Everyone in his way made sure to give him a wide berth, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of the war path he was clearly on.
He doesn't bother knocking, pushing the front door of said building in with sheer brute force. Perks of being a powerful overlord. He's stronger than he looks.
You're so close he's sure of it. The static electricity in the air is almost crackling as he begins to walk through the building, listening for any sound of you. When he hears none, he speaks.
"I ฿ɆⱠłɆVɆ you have ₴-₴Ø₥Ɇ₮Ⱨł₦₲ of ₥ł₦Ɇ." He almost bellows, voice glitching out heavily as he announced himself, hopefully so you could hear and alert him. But also to serve as a final warning for this demon that their time was coming. He's holding his breath as he listens, before he hears it.
A few loud and rapid thuds, almost like a fist banging on a wall, and he's focused on it like a hawk now, pace picking up as he makes his way to the room he's sure he heard it come from and then he finally hears the idiot's voice in a desperate heated whisper.
"Be quiet or he'll find me you stupid fuckin-"
. L̢̛͉͉̠̹̠ͭͦ͐ͧ̄̓̋̕͢͡͞_̸ͤE͚̦̻̪ͨ͑̄́T̴.̝͕̫̯̈́̅_̩͙̬̣̫̲ͯ̂̂̈̓ͩͨ̚͟ͅ T̥͖̑̎͝H̜̑͂́̚_͔̳͚̿̈́͒̾͟E̸̜͎̰̗ͭ̉̉͌ͧ͌̂̊ͬ͜M͉͖̙̓͆̆ͧ̿̏͋ͨ.̈́̅ G̶̡͓̰͚̭̖̈́̎ͩ̎͜͡͞Ȯ͔̠͈͔̉̄́ͤ͒́_̤͈͗.̨̣ͧ̀̃͞" -
The glitches and intimidating aspect to his voice are not intentional this time as the blue hue from his face lights up the scene before him, the hue of his screen quickly bursting into a brilliant shade of red, casting you both in a different light. This disgusting idiot's hands were on you, one covering your mouth to keep you from screaming.
The man lets you go like you're made of hot coals, and knowing he would not win this fight, attempts to run past Vox to try and escape.
But Vox is not letting this go. Not with how worried he had been, not with how this scum thought they could put their hands on his lover. Grabbing the man's arm hard enough to stop him in his tracks without barely even turning, electricity shoots through him enough to temporarily paralyze him.
But not kill him.
Oh no.
He had better plans.
With the immediate threat extinguished for now, he drops the now limp arm, letting it fall carelessly to the ground. He approaches you then, you already meeting him halfway to throw your arms around him. He can feel the sparks still coming off his body begin to fade away as you do though, his screen turning from red back to its normal blue. If the sparks hurt you, you don't say anything.
"Are you okay?" He asks, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up so you could sit on one arm and wrap your hands around his neck more easily, which you do eagerly, curling up into him seeking comfort he is more than happy to provide.
"...Y-yeah." Your voice is shakey so he knows you're trying to put on a brave face.
He's shooting off a text to a bodyguard at VoxTek and giving the coordinates of where they are as he figures out what his next course of action will be. He didn't want to leave you unattended, but it seems he needed to put this fool in their place as well.
"How about this sweetheart, I've got someone coming to escort you to the restaurant, you place a to go order for us, and bring it back to my office and we can have our lunch date there." He offers in such a sweet voice it almost gives you whiplash to hear his voice change from how he spoke to the sinner before to this intentionally charming and sweet voice. He is still keeping you close as he eventually settles on a solution. He feels your arms grip him more tightly at the suggestion of him leaving you, even if it is with a bodyguard and he can already predict your question before you ask it.
"What about you? Why can't you take me?" You sound scared still even though you're trying not to and he squeezes you slightly in a way he hopes comforts you.
"I plan to take my time showing this sinner what happens when someone messes with what is m̥̲͓̫ͪ͆́ͫ̔̈͆́i̶̶ͫn̶̷̡̨̩̱̟̐̀̐̄͑ͤ͢e̷ͣ_̑͠." His voice takes on that threatening edge towards the end before he clears his throat, charismatic persona beginning to fall back into place once more.
"You just get whatever you want and I'll be there soon Dollface. I've already rescheduled my next two meetings, so I'll have time to teach him a lesson and have lunch with you." He kisses your forehead, only letting you down once you agree and seem okay with it. He would have to text his assistant on the way back to reschedule those meetings, he thinks to himself.
This way he could take his time with this sinner who deserves much more than a quick and easy electrocution death, and then take the time to enjoy the lunch he was supposed to have with you.
He takes a deep breath now, now that he has you safe and a plan to enact. Everything was back to normal and within his control like it should be. And this sinner? This sinner he would make an example of, to ensure no one else is stupid enough to try this again. It's been a bit since he's really gotten to enjoy his more sadistic tendencies, and this was the perfect opportunity.
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Do you have any more fun facts about Stella?
ꔫ more fun facts about Stella!
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( thank you so much for requesting!
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!
Stella has a public tiktok account where she likes posting, random videos/short vlogs, sometimes dance covers, and just trending challenges/pranks.
Stella loves, and I mean loves redbull! If she could she would live off it.
Stella has a driving license, but doesn’t like driving
Stella absolutely loves animals! She really wants a dog!
Her favorite superhero is Batman!
She was a twilight girl, is known for forcing her brothers and friends and boyfriend into watching the movies with her!
Besides hockey and figure skating, her favorite sport is F1
She’s a mclaren girle
She’s always making playlists, and she shares them the most with Trevor and Cole!
Stella loves going to concerts
went to the eras roro with Trevor and Jamie! And then went again with cole
Loves playing golf with her friends, usually playing with Trevor and cole during the summer, and she’s not that bad
Her specialty is putting and driving the golf cart 
Forgets the rules of golf every time
She can fall asleep anywhere
Always falling asleep in the car, shoulders are her best friend
She’s a window sitter, she gets really nauseous
Her brothers always joke about her being obsessed with a clean room, she’s very organized and hates when people move around her things, especially at her desk. She likes to know where everything is.
SHE LOVES STUFFED ANIMALS
She loves going on bike rides
She loves hot showers, and hates taking ice baths
Jokingly calls people pookie
Cole gifted her a heated blanket and she cried, she loves it so much
She loves eating, but looses her appetite a lot
Not a fan of syrup 
Refuses to answer waffles or pancakes’ she loves them both to much
Has a habit of forgetting to take her iron pills
Will get random texts throughout the day from Jack asking if she took her iron
Hates going to the doctors alone, and now that Luke left Rutger goes with her whenever he can
She’s always liking nhl memes on twitter
She’s always vibing and singing along to the music playing at games
Has a lot of cute ear muffs, that she wears to the games because sometimes the loud noise gets to her, especially when she doesn’t feel to good
she loves hot tubs
She loves watching edits, she has many folders
She gets extremely thirsty out of nowhere
She has no problem sleeping with it without socks, she doesn’t care, most of the time she wakes up with her socks mysteriously off her feet.
The Canucks and devils social media admins love Stella so much
Stella cried when Jamie got Injured and she is always texting and calling him to make sure he’s okay
The same with Trevor!
She’s Quinn’s biggest fan
Not the biggest NFL fan but she loves watching the games with her brothers and rut
She’s so good at pool
Her brothers love spoiling her
She gets baby fever way to much
She will cry when things are to cute
Stella’s kinda a cry baby but it’s okay
Breakfast club and mama mia are her favorite movies
Always brings her earphones or headphones with her
SHE LOVES LONG DRIVES
As long as she doesn’t get car sick
Refuses to talk about or remember her embarrassing moments, to her they don’t exist
She finds hockey fights absolutely hilarious
hates getting hiccups, hers are so painful
Has to sleep holding somthing!
She likes, saves, and sometimes comments on all the edits of Rutger! He has his own special folder
She will be in her bed, Rutger by her side and she will be giggling and kicking her feet as she watches edits of him
Rutger will be like “you know I’m right here right?” 🤨
It’s crazy how he gets jealous about edits MADE OF HIM
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( i love Stella so much, she’s so cute. PLEASE DONT BE A SILENT READER 🫶🏻)
°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @bradenschneider )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! )
#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨👩🏻🎨୧˚ stella hughes au!#💌stellahughes!#hockey#nhl#nhl hockey#jack hughes#quinn hughes#luke hughes#nhl imagine#new jersey devils#vancouver canucks#umich hockey#rutger mcgroarty#jack hughes x reader#quinn hughes x reader#luke hughes x reader#rutger mcgroarty x reader#hughes sister#rutger mcgroarty imagine#hughes brothers#umich x reader#umich imagine#nhl blurb
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