#okay yeah we did beat each other up about it bUT STILL
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espresso (m.s)
master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: mentions sexual content. not too crazy though/swearing
preview: you were about to go to bed until your phone dings. you look at it receiving multiple texts from Matt out of no where. you and Matt had a little fling going on until he broke it off unexpectedly.
a/n: THIS SONG ON REPLAY. GO STREAM ESPRESSO. - L 🤍
-FLASHBACK-
"Y/n! I want you to meet my friends." Madi says opening the door all the way. you were staying at her house for the weekend and she's been insisting that you meet her friends. you get up from the couch as you see three boys walk in. "Y/n, this is Nick, Chris, and Matt." you hear her say as you look at them, specifically Matt. he had a backwards hat on and his shirt was revealing his tattoos down his one arm. you thought it was extremely attractive. "hi nice to meet you Y/n!" Nick says with a smile. "nice to meet you as well. Madi talks about you guys constantly. always telling me stories of yours." you say smiling. "and nice to meet you guys as well." you add on, facing Chris and Matt. they just smile and say the same thing. "I can tell we'll be getting along." Nick says walking to the kitchen, pulling you and Madi along.
you three end up talking most of the time as the two boys, Chris and Matt, sat on the couch playing video games on the TV. "can we join?" Madi says. "if you're prepared to get your ass beat." Chris says handing Madi a controller. everybody laughs at his remark. "we'll see about that." Madi says sitting down on the couch with them. “guys come join!” she calls out to you and Nick. you two shake your heads while Nick replies, “maybe later.” you two were still in the kitchen, but you had a clear view of the three of them playing. your eyes then suddenly land on Matt and you stare at him. analyzing his facial features and his body. Nick looks at you and looks at Matt. he clears his throat slightly which catches your attention. you turn your head to see Nick looking at you with a slight smirk, "my brother Matt?" he says. your eyes widen as you shake your head, "what? no. I was just watching them all play." you reply whispering. "more like watching Matt." he says laughing. your cheeks just turn red from the comment as you look to see if the three on the couch heard. “keep it down” you whisper to Nick who was laughing to himself.
later that night, Chris and Matt had just left. Nick decided to stay over because he was having fun getting to know you. you were laying on your stomach on Madi's bed as Nick sat next to you. Madi was braiding her hair in the mirror. "Madi guess what." Nick says. you weren't really paying attention until you hear the next thing that comes out of his mouth, "Y/n has a crush on Matt." you turn your head towards him as your mouth slightly opens, "where did you get that from?!" you say. Nick laughs as he speaks, "you were staring him down the whole time."
Madi looks at you before speaking, "Y/n, Matt is not one to do relationships." you look at her with a confused face, "okay? I just met him today. Nick is putting words in my mouth." you say glaring playfully at him. Nick laughs as responds, "i'm sorry! it was just funny to see, but Madi is right. Matt is not a relationship type of person. so i'm just going to warn you now just in case you do end up liking him." you roll your eyes and roll over on your back, "not going to happen." you say looking at the ceiling. Madi and Nick just look at each other with a 'yeah right' kind of look which you saw in the corner of your eye. “hey i’m serious!” you say sitting up shaking your head as the two just laugh together.
*time skip*
“who are you texting?” Madi says trying to peek over at your phone. you bring the phone up to your chest, hiding it from her, “none of your concern” you say smiling. “hey i thought we told each other everything.” Madi says with a raised eyebrow. “well, this is one of those things where i have to see where things go before letting you know.” you say. “so you’re talking to a guy?” she asks with a big smile. “yes. that’s all the information you’ll receive.” you reply with a sly smirk. “not fair!” she exclaims.
*time skip*
you lay there with your breathing uneven as you stare at the ceiling. you pull the sheets over your body as you turn to face Matt, who is also breathing unevenly. "well that was fun." he says looking back at you. I bet your wondering how you guys got into this situation. you ended up hanging out with Madi and the triplets more, getting closer with the boys. you had a bunch of things in common with each boy, but you had the most in common with Matt. you guys exchanged numbers and ever since then, you've been meeting up. mostly always tangled up in your sheets.
"yeah that was fun." you say with a soft laugh. you sit up holding the blanket over your bare body as you continue to speak, "so is this how we'll always be?" Matt looks at you with a confused face, "what do you mean?" he asks. "well you know, just having sex?" you say with a nervous laugh. "well yeah? I thought that's what we agreed on?" he says. you were expecting a whole different answer from him. the words that came out of his mouth were exactly what people warned you about. "oh... well I was just making sure we're on the same page." you say with a fake smile, lying through your teeth. he sits up from your bed as he starts to put on his clothes. “oh okay.” he says with a smile. I guess they were right. you didn't want to believe it since every conversation you had with him sounded so genuine. once he was fully clothed, he gave you a kiss on your forehead as he speaks, "i'll text you later?" all you do is nod as he smiles and leaves you sitting on your bed disappointed.
*time skip*
"we told you y/n." Madi says with a sympathetic look. you had your face in your hands as you groan. "I can't believe I was so stupid to think he would want something more with me." you say shaking your head in your hands. "I really thought it'd be different too. he's always bringing you up." Nick says. "he is just a boy after all." Madi says. Nick laughs at the statement, "agreed. even though he's still my brother." he says. you look up from your hands, "I can't believe we had sex." you blurt out. "over and over again. i should've known i was just like every other girl he’s got with." you finish. Nick's eyes widen as he looks at Madi, "you had sex?!" he exclaims. “yeah why?” you ask confused. “Matt always cuts off girls before having sex. he just lead on every girl to thinking they could even get close.” Madi says. “so he didn’t have sex with multiple girls before me?” you ask. “so he was just entertaining girls and breaking hearts instead?” you add on.
“well yeah. i’m pretty sure he only had sex with one other person. his ex.” Nick says. “but, he said it wasn’t a great experience which lead to their break up.” he adds on. a gasp comes out from his mouth, “oh that’s why he acts like a jerk!” he says. now it was all clicking to you. maybe you just had to have a conversation with him.
Matt's POV
i've been feeling guilty recently. I enjoy hanging out with Y/n. but why did I have to push her away like every other girl? she was different. I feel like a douche bag telling her all I wanted was to have sex with no strings attached. it’s the best sex i ever had. but clearly, she was obviously bothered by it. this is just new to me. so i decided to end things with her because i didn’t want to make anymore mistakes.
"what?!" she shouts out. "so you come over here and fuck me one last time before throwing me to the side?!" the anger on her face was visible. "Y/n I just felt guilty. I know this isn't what you want." I say. she stands up with the blanket wrapped around her as she picks up my clothes. I stand up from her bed as she shoves the clothes into my hand, "leave." she says avoiding eye contact. "can we just-" I let out before she interrupts me, "leave!" I sigh taking my clothes putting it on and respect her decision.
Y/N's POV
how stupid of me. I was finally starting to understand why he always acted the way he did but now he wants to forget about everything? after he left, I grabbed my phone and called Madi and Nick. "hello?" Nick says. "you won't believe what just happened." you say angrily. "what did he do now?" Madi says. "he came over and we had sex and he had the audacity to tell me he can't do this with me anymore right after. who does that?! I felt so used." you say. "so he went there to fuck you for the last time, and dump you." Madi repeats. "yes." you mutter out. “i’m just so confused." “what an asshole!" Nick says. "Matt!" you hear him yell through the phone. your eyes widen as you hear Nick scold Matt.
End of Y/N's POV
-FLASHBACK ENDS-
it's been a few months since Matt ended things between the two of you. now every time you all hang out in a group, there was an awkward tension. "you two are weirdly quiet." Chris says looking back and forth between the two of you. Chris wasn't informed of anything so, he was confused why there was a weird vibe.
you and Matt just ignored him. “how about we just watch a movie.” Nick says after clearing his throat. “yeah” we all say in unison. Nick picks out a movie as we all sit in silence.
Matt’s POV
as i sit here with my eyes on the screen, i can’t help but notice the smell of her perfume. it smelt so warm and comforting. it was like i was being taunted. if i’m being truthful to myself, every other girl i’ve been with, i didn’t care about leaving. with Y/N? it was like she was on my mind constantly. when i first got involved with her, i saw her just like everybody else. but as time went by, i felt so much guilt build up, what was i supposed to do? i did what i thought would be best and that was to stop us from fooling around.
she didn’t deserve it. but now i just sit here feeling sorry for myself.
End of Matt’s POV
when the night ends, you arrived home preparing to go to sleep. you changed out of your dirty clothes, took off your makeup, washed your face, and brushed your teeth before crawling into bed. you snuggled into your blanket feeling relaxed, trying to forget about the tension that happened earlier.
your thoughts were soon interrupted as you hear your phone buzz.
Matt
hey are you awake?
i can’t sleep.
you’re on my mind.
you scoff reading the multiple sent texts.
Y/N
well then get me off your mind.
Matt
hey, i ended things for your sake.
Y/N
my sake?
my ‘give a fucks’ are ran out right now so if you’re trying to get at something, i really don’t care.
Matt
all i’m asking is you just listen.
you leave him on read as you wait for him to type.
Matt
i ended things because i didn’t want to hurt you. i enjoyed talking to you everyday and the sex was great but, i was stupid for telling you that that’s all i wanted because it’s not. you’re different and i couldn’t express that.
now, i’ve been up thinking about you every night.
Y/N
well aren’t you cute.
Matt
???
Y/N
i got you wrapped around my finger.
Matt
yeah you do.
can we please start over? i miss you.
Y/N
what do you miss?
Matt
i miss all of you. your touch, your lips, your everything in general.
Y/N
is it that sweet? lol.
Matt
???
you laugh to yourself before texting again.
Y/N
nothing never mind. good night Matt.
Matt
what?! what did you mean?!
you laugh again as you shut off your phone and drift to sleep.
Matt was completely left confused but wanting more. he didn’t mind you playing hard to get. he deserved it. but again, he just laid there, up all night, thinking about you.
a/n: sorry it’s so short! hope you guys enjoyed it still. likes, comments, and reblogs would mean the world to me. i love seeing feed back from you guys! - L 🤍
#Spotify#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#madi filipowicz#sabrina carpenter#espresso#sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo imagine#nick sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets imagines#chris sturniolo imagine#imagine#fanfic
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well. i finished ch 17 of hi3. but at what cost
#avil plays hi3#tbf majority of me playing through hi3 just looks like This.#yes the acheron trailer made me get up and finish ch 17#i. :(#the fight between kiana and mei was so painful :(#ok also i suck ass in the combat and i was so scared of having to restart#BUT I THINK I HURT MORE THE FACT THAT KIANA JUST REFUSED TO GIVE UP ON MEI#BUT MEIS ALSO DOING THIS BECAUSE SHES TRYING TO SAVE KIANA#AND THEY WERE BOTH FIGHTING TO STOP AND TRY TO SAVE EACH OTHER#MEI YOU SAVED KIANA BUT LIKE..... DONT YOU WANT TO LIVE ALONGSIDE HER.... MEI PLEASE#tbh. the way i was going through ch 17 for hi3.#kiana and mei remind me a lot of oz and gil's relationship back in pandora hearts but#now it makes me want to hit my head on a brick wall because#'wow. i really just gravitate tO THE SAME FUCKING MEDIA EVERY DAMN TIME AVIL STOP IT FFS'#also idk i was thinking about it too#mei tried earlier to use the herrschers powers to try and protect kiana but it wasnt enough. she failed that time#and with no other option to save her she just HAD to and it makes me HURT that this was her only option#IN HER HEAD. I BELIEVE IN YOU MEI I THINK THERE COULDVE BEEN ANOTHER OPTION HERE (IDK WHAT BUT I AM SOBBING)#sprawls on the ground#at least i can have an emotional break for a little bit.... hsr update so i can chill w that#and then when i finish catching up w that. then i go back to being hi3's punching bag#can i get off this train now? why'd i sign myself up for this (welt yang doomed me and then i got fucked over by everything else)#idk also the way that both mei AND kiana resorted to using their herrscher powers to stop the other. two stubborn people....#but its done because they just... they just care so much and want to save the other#okay yeah we did beat each other up about it bUT STILL#MEI I BELIEVE IN YOU YOU CAN TURN THIS AROUND 😭😭😭😭😭#anyways. glad i did. i have the worst stomach ache rn so i was Going through it#but my brain hit a reset so i feel normal now. save for the crying
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burnout (jk)
summary: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.
pairing: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader
genres: yandere, dark romance, slow burn
author’s note: this is a repost or burnout chapters 1-3 + a bonus sneak peek from chapter 4 from my deleted account, aikastales, for easy viewing. it is still on hold. minors do not interact. no warnings for this specific part.
total word count: 10k
PART ONE
Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building?
He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you.
At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance.
And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you.
“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you.
Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours.
You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply.
Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.”
“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you.
Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”
You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams?
“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”
Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.”
The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud.
“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.”
Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?”
You couldn’t help it. You were curious.
“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.”
You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders.
“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you.
“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Jungkook drove off.
As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off.
The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes.
“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first.
You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back.
He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you.
“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table.
“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair.
Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?”
You nodded.
“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.”
His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?”
“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.
Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.”
“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?”
“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed.
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.”
You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications.
But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did.
They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”
After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation.
“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink.
Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.”
You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend.
“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.
Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.”
“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?”
He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.”
You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.”
“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.”
“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked.
“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?”
“Where?”
“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,”
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”
“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.”
“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.”
“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.”
“Go for it.”
“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously.
“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.”
It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did.
“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.”
You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.”
You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester.
Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.
It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents.
Tonight was no different.
You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung.
“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber.
“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,”
“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?”
“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,”
“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.”
“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.”
“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.”
You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory.
“Where are you, Taehyung?”
“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,”
“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that.
“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered.
Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away.
“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?”
“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity.
“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.”
Just how deep does blood run?
You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see.
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.”
“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?”
“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered.
His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen.
“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen.
“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator.
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it.
“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?”
As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you.
“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained.
“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.”
“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend.
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him.
Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed.
“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?”
Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.”
“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.”
“Do you wanna get punched?”
“Let’s go right now,”
“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.”
Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.”
Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate.
“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted.
“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against.
“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him.
“I insist,” Jungkook responded.
“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen.
“Yeah sure,”
You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment.
“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.”
“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment.
The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first.
You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said.
You were fucking lovestruck.
Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.
To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing.
That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.
With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.
You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”
Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.
It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.
“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”
It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook.
“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.
Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him.
Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again.
“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.”
You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun.
PART TWO
As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club.
What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before.
After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in.
You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes.
“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.”
With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?”
“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.”
“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted.
“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?”
“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?”
“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.”
You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office.
“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.”
“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.”
Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”
“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes.
This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him.
Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you.
Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office.
Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.”
You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.”
“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.”
“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.”
“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.”
“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office.
Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating.
Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind.
You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest.
The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you.
I’ll change and meet you outside the building.
You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.”
“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded.
“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.”
Your heart fluttered yet again.
“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle.
“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.”
Just like that, you were reminded of reality.
“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.”
It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung.
“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.”
“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera.
“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.”
“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.”
When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up.
You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change.
True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket.
“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.”
You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?”
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh.
“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.”
“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.”
There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you.
“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.”
As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here.��
So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase.
“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. .
Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely.
Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you.
“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did.
He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that.
You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.”
To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”
And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.
You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.”
“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette.
“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was.
“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.”
“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.”
He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation.
“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?”
And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams.
And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave.
Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours.
And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined.
No sparks.
No fireworks.
It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss.
You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had.
But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable.
Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world.
PART THREE
You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger.
Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.
As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process.
“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.”
You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said.
“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week.
“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.”
You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life.
“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine.
“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.”
The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend?
“If he’s like that—,”
“He is like that,”
“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.”
When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face.
Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him.
You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.”
He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.”
“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table.
“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day.
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious?
Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona.
Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy?
“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon.
“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him.
“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.”
You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,”
“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin?
“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook.
“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.”
Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library?
Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.
Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true?
You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?
Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed.
“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room.
“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?”
“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work.
Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent.
Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep.
Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom.
Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards.
You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering.
“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses.
“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie.
“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,”
“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,”
You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of:
“Lee Haemin.”
PART FOUR (a sneak peek)
“Lee Haemin.”
In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward.
“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked.
As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings.
It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said:
“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”
Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.”
“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.”
Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.”
“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook.
She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you."
"Why would he say that to you?"
"Because he loved me first."
And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.
Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”
“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.”
“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you?
“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.”
You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.”
“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”
author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.
#yandere jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fics#jungkook fanfic#jungkook au#yandere bts#jeon jungkook#yandere jeon jungkook#burnout by aikastales#aikastales
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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.
Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.
He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.
"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.
He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?
Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.
He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.
Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.
Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.
Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.
Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.
"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."
Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."
Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"
Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.
"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."
"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."
"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."
"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.
"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.
"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."
They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.
"Working on new music?"
Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.
"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"
Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."
"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."
He grimaces. "That's a low bar."
"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.
"Shut-up."
"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."
"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"
"No, not at all. Just curious."
"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"
"Gossip," Eddie frowns.
"Anyone else you got your eye on?"
"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.
"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.
Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"
Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."
"Are you lonely?"
"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."
"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.
"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"
"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"
"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.
"The one that got away?"
"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."
Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"
"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"
"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."
Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.
"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."
"Wait, Steve--"
"See you around."
He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.
Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.
"Eddie, I don't--"
"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."
"What?"
"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."
"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?
"God, since 1986, at least."
Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"
"You're mine too," the words tumble out.
"What?"
"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."
"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"
"Pathetic gay yearning and all."
Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.
Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.
Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."
"It's been a decade!"
"Fuck," Eddie cackles.
They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.
"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.
Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"
"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."
"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"
Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."
Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#oneshot#angst#friends to lovers#angst with a happy ending#idiots in love#mutual pining#famous eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#regular guy steve harrington#pathetic gay yearning#fluff#the one that got away#second chances#getting together
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Rejection
Summary: After some drinks, Azriel finds out you’ve been keeping a secret from him.
Author’s note: hehe what kinda crack was I given I hope yall feel fed these days
“Nothing stings quite like rejection,” you say, taking another sip from your class. A loud laugh fills the air.
“There’s no way you’ve ever been rejected,” Cassian tells you, popping open another bottle of wine.
You roll your eyes, “I’ve been rejected before, Cass.”
Cassian doesn’t look at you as he pries the cork out of the bottle, foregoing a glass and drinking straight from the bottle before he says, “by who? Someone blind who can’t smell?”
You’re taken aback, “by someone who can’t smell?”
He shrugs, “you smell really nice.”
You smile a little, “thank you?”
“Who was it?” Feyre asks from the other side of Cassian, moving her legs beneath her.
You, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Azriel were lounging around the sitting room, each drinking from a bottle of wine, reminiscing on past love lives.
Azriel looks at you as your cheeks heat, telling her, “it’s too embarassing, you’ll laugh.”
“Were they out of your league?” Nesta asks, intrigued by the new topic.
You gulp down your wine, making eye contact with her steely gaze, “uh, yes, definitely.”
Cassian’s laugh is boisterous as he claps your back, “well tell us. Who could be out of your league?”
Feyre laughs, “yeah I think we need to know so we can go see this perfect specimen.”
Your face is even redder, at both the compliment and knowing who it was. You sigh, knowing they’ll never give up until they find out who it was.
“Okay fine,” you say, breathing in deeply. “A few decades ago, after a high lord’s meeting, I asked someone out, they agreed, and then they didn’t show up.”
“Ouuuuuuch,” Cassian drawls, “what an idiot. That hurts worse than being told no.”
“Yeah,” you respond, “it was embarrassing, but I don’t harbor any bad feelings about them.”
You turn to see Feyre thinking about something. “If it was at a high lords meeting, surely we know them then?” Feyre asks.
Your heart begins beating out of your chest, “oh, you definitely know him.”
“It’s a him! It’s a him!” Cassian shouts as you finish off your wine, opening a new bottle.
Rhys strolls into the room at all the commotion, looking as his family devours his wine collection.
“What’s the point in buying all this wine if you all drink it without me?” He strolls towards Feyre, kissing her on the head before sitting next to her.
“She was just about to tell us about when she got stood up for a date after a high lord’s meeting.”
“Ah,” Rhys says, “when you asked out Azriel.”
Everyone stills, and your eyes are glued on the drink in your hand. The blood is rushing through your ears, but you make out a soft what amongst the noise.
Cassian throws his head back laughing, “you asked out Az? And he stood you up?”
His laugh is booming through the room, but not for the reason you think. You fold into yourself a bit, shoulders sagging as Cassian says, “that’s cold, brother.”
Azriel does not address his brother’s taunts, eyes focused on you.
“You never asked me out.”
“Yes I did. I asked you out to this bar, you said yes, and I waited there for a bit before giving up.”
“No you didn’t,” he says, pouring through his memories of all the meetings he’s attended over the years.
“Az, it’s fine. There are no hard feelings. You changed your mind or didn’t want to hurt my feelings by saying no.”
“No it’s not fine. I would have been there.”
You finally, finally look up at him.
Az turns his attention from you to Rhys, “how did you know she asked me out but I didn’t? What high lord meeting even was this?”
Rhys waves his hand, “it was before Amarantha.”
Feyre tenses at the name, but Rhys goes on.
“During a break I heard her ask you out, but Beron began speaking to me about something, pulling my attention away. I assumed you two went out and there just wasn’t anything there.”
“Which meeting was this?” Azriel asks.
Rhys blows out a breath, “Tarquin’s father wanted to talk about Amarantha and the threat she posed. We were in Dawn for close to a week with discussions that led nowhere.”
You wanted the ground to open a riff and swallow you whole. You even sent Feyre some thoughts.
I’ll give you anything if you kill me right here.
Her melodic laugh fills your mind.
Az adores you, though. I’m shocked he didn’t show up.
She pauses, then her voice rings again.
Also you’re hot as hell, who would say no?
You give her an exasperated look and are about to resign yourself to leave and never, ever interact with any of your friends again when Azriel’s voice picks up.
“I left that meeting early,” Az says, remembering, “one of my spies needed out, I had to go extract them discreetly.”
He looks at you, “it took a few days because they got seriously injured and I wanted to ensure they were okay before coming back. By the time I was done, discussions were over and we were back home in Velaris.”
His face falls a bit, “I-I completely forgot. I am.. so sorry.”
“I appreciate the apology but it was ages ago, I figured you got caught up with something or said yes because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
“I said yes because I wanted to go.”
The two of you look at each other, forgetting everyone else was there.
He stands, walking towards you, extending a hand.
“I’m quite late, but would you like to accompany me this evening?”
You put your hand in his as shadows envelop the both of you.
The last the inner circle hears from the two of you is a soft yes on the wind.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#acotar writing#azriel x y/n
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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!
Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.
Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side.
The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently.
But this time, the summoning feels different.
Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.
“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had.
“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”
Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.
“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”
“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.
“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”
“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision.
For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.
“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves.
“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin.
The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.
“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”
The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.
The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged.
His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”
And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”
The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still.
Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”
The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”
“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”
Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.
A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”
“Hold up that book for me, please?”
She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.
“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.
“Is there a problem, Great One?”
Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.
“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”
“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.
“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”
Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.
Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.
“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”
Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”
“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed.
“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”
“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”
“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.
He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”
“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”
“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.
“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.
“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”
Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”
“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”
“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”
“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”
“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”
The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”
“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”
She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”
“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.
Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”
“But you accepted.”
“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King.
It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.
“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks.
He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.
He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.
Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.
Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment.
“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”
“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”
“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”
Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”
“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.
Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.
They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch.
Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.
“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.
It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.
Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”
Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”
“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”
“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”
Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”
He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—
“Oh shit,” Danny realizes.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”
Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”
They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.
“...Put it off until tomorrow?”
Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”
“Sounds perfect.”
.
.
.
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#dpxdc fanfic#dp x dc fic#prompt fill#my writing#dukes pov is just: u're abt to be sacrificed. u're mildly concussed. a cute guy glowing like the north star saved u and is now ur husband#he's had a night but all in all it ended pretty nicely!#they're gonna work together and just hang out while trying to undo the marriage summoning ritual and find they're super compatible#and then in a few years they'll be marrying each other for real :)#thanks for the prompt!!
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Frame by Frame
Minors DNI
Summary: Your brother Jay invited his friend Sunghoon over to spend the night at the house. The three of you had mostly grown up together, so you knew him pretty well. Something's off with him... he keeps looking at you.
Warnings: Male Reader, Muscle Kink, Rough Sex, Brother's Best friend, Breeding, Spit play, Pet names (Baby), Soft Dom Sunghoon, Sunghoon has a big dick, Aftercare, Jaywon (briefly)
Wordcount: 3.5k
You woke up from a midday nap to the smell of food being cooked downstairs. The Sun was still shining into your window, but you could tell it was the afternoon by its dark orange color.
Climbing out of bed, you remembered your parents said they'd be out of town for the week. Probably because it was spring break for you, and they didn't want to be around when both their kids would be home again. They were way too happy to send you and your brother off to college...
You put on some sort of t-shirt before leaving your room to investigate the kitchen. There were two voices; one was Jay, your brother. The other was Sunghoon, his best friend since you were five years old. Sunghoon and Jay went everywhere together. To the movies, the gym, cafes, and even the same college too. It really felt like they were dating each other with how much Sunghoon was around, even if your parents treated him like another kid.
Stepping into the kitchen, you saw Sunghoon in a sleeveless red shirt with gray sweatpants. Jay was wearing something similar in green and black. They probably just came back from the gym. Jay had shouted something about it before you'd fallen asleep.
"It smells good. What's on the menu today, chef?" You smiled at your brother the way you did when you needed something from him.
"If you do the dishes after dinner, then it's a tomato bruschetta with salmon," Jay replied without looking up at you.
"What!? Why do I have to do the dishes?"
"You want to eat the food I'm working hard to make, then you have to contribute."
You rolled your eyes. "You hate the way I wash the dishes, you always say it's not done right and end up doing them anyway–and what about Sunghoon? He's eating too, so he has to do the dishes!"
Sunghoon was about to protest but Jay beat him to it. "Fine. Both of you start washing these dishes. If it's not clean by the time I'm done, then the dog is eating really well tonight."
Sunghoon didn't bother arguing. "I wash, you dry?" He asked while handing you a clean rag.
Your stomach was too empty to think of a good argument about why Sunghoon was the person who should do everything. "Fine," You snatched the rag from him and lifted yourself onto the counter to sit. For the next ten minutes, you dried the dishes as he handed them to you. Your mind wandered, thinking about how hungry you were. You looked over at Sunghoon washing the dishes, his huge biceps flexing as he worked over every dish. He'd been going to the gym as much as Jay, but he always had a better shape than him. His arms were incredible, his shoulders also pretty broad, and his side profile wasn't half bad either... He definitely wasn't the kid you'd grown up with anymore.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Sunghoon's eyes looking over at you, catching you staring at him.
"Y/n, you alright?"
"Y–Yeah, just still a little drowsy..."
Jay finished making the food and started planting the table. "Did you really sleep all day, y/n?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Those are the same pajamas you've been wearing for the past two days..." He dryly replied.
"Well–What did you do today, Jay?"
"I cleaned the house, got groceries, picked up Sunghoon, and then we went to the gym. Then we came back here and I cooked for the entire house."
"Three people, but okay... that's supposed to be a break and you're working like a house husband!"
Jay picked up the plate sitting at your place at the table. "So, that's a no to the food?"
"Okay–Let's not get out of hand. You started it."
"That's what I thought," Jay set your plate down and returned to his seat. He waited for you and Sunghoon to finish the dishes and join him. Dinner was pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, with a bowl of fruit. Jay knew you loved breakfast for dinner, and it was all prepared and set to perfection.
You all eat together, not talking very much as you focus on the food. Sunghoon was wolfing the food down like usual, making a mess.
"Hey, you're going to get food on the floor!" You pushed him slightly, "I'm not cleaning the floor if you make a mess."
He replied with a mouth full of food, "Relax, Mom!" Sunghoon has egg on his face and crumbs on his shirt.
You pinched the egg off his face and tossed it to the dog to eat. But when you looked back at Sunghoon, he was staring at you.
"What? Were you gonna eat that?" You asked.
He shook his head, "No, it's nothing."
The air hung heavy between you. Sunghoon has been acting like that sometimes around you, creating some sort of tension between you. But you couldn't think of what you could've done to make him bothered by you. He was fine earlier...
Jay cut through the silence. "Well. Sunghoon, are you still staying the night?"
Sunghoon nodded. More invested in the food now, even though his plate was almost empty.
Jay turned to you, "Y/n, you doing anything tonight? We can all hang out if you want."
You shrugged. "I don't think I've got anything for me. So I'll be around."
The three of you continued dinner without much extra conversation. You went back to your room, Jay started washing the dishes from dinner, and Sunghoon stayed in the kitchen to talk to Jay.
You watched some TikToks in your room until you got a text from Sunghoon.
SH: Hey...
You sat up in bed so you could give it more attention. Why would he put the ... in there?
YN: What's up?
SH: I hope I didn't make you upset earlier. About the dishes. You were kinda giving me daggers, so I just wanted to make sure we're cool.
YN: Of course! I didn't mean to look upset, I was just thinking.
SH: What, about?
YN: Random stuff, I can't even really remember it now...
You knew you couldn't just say, "Oh I was thinking about how good you've been looking these days. Great gains, bro!" You needed to play it cool.
SH: Oh, okay. Can I get your thoughts on something?
Your heart raced, just for a moment.
YN: What is it?
SH: What do you think about this, hot or not? Jay says not.
You stared at the picture of Sunghoon in the gym's locker room. You tried not to laugh at his expression.
YN: I think you could work on your expression. Try smiling or something. Most guys just focus on showing their body rather than their face at the gym anyway.
There was a pause in the messages. Sunghoon didn't reply for a full five minutes...
SH: What about these?
YN: Sunghoon, why do you need me to tell you if you look good? You've always been the most handsome out of you, me, and Jay.
SH: Well, Jay won't even look at them. But it's good to know you think I'm good-looking.
You blushed and scoffed at your phone... You couldn't tell if he knew what he was doing to you. Your body was going crazy.
YN: Well, whatever. I think the photos are all fine.
SH: Last one.
You braced yourself for another sleeveless selfie, but what you got was way better.
You almost dropped your phone when you saw him shirtless. He was absolutely doing it on purpose. Making sure not to actually show you anything, just some collarbone.
SH: Thoughts?
YN: Yep, still looks good.
SH: Well, you can send me photos too. Let me rate you.
You caught a look of yourself in the reflection of your phone. You looked more than a little rough.
YN: Um, I don't really have photos...
SH: Then should we fix that? I can take some photos for you.
YN: Why do I need pictures?
SH: ...I dunno. It just felt fair, since I forced you to look at me. I should look at you too.
You thought about sending Sunghoon photos of yourself. What kind of photos would he even want?
YN: What kinda photos are we talking about?
SH: Anything, I'm just here to help. Just like you did for me.
You spent almost twenty minutes trying to find a photo that seemed decent enough to send. Changing your outfit, messing with your hair, cleaning your room a little bit. You settled on a candid photo of you reading a book in some loose-fitting clothes. Your shirt was almost falling off your shoulders, and your shorts barely peeked out to show you were wearing any. You sent it to Sunghoon and waited anxiously for his response.
SH: Looks good.
You frowned at his response. You really look all the time just to get that kind of response from him... You tossed your phone away from you and went to the living room to find Jay and Sunghoon. Both were sitting on the couch, using their phones. But as soon as you walked in, Sunghoon tucked his phone.
"I'm gonna hit the bathroom really quick." He said as he brushed past you.
Jay didn't acknowledge it, but you sure did. Sunghoon was acting weird again.
"Jay, have you noticed anything about Sunghoon lately?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Same old Sunghoon."
You scoffed at your brother. "Since when have you been so uncaring?"
"And since when did you care so much?" Jay raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his phone.
"Never!" You turned and stormed off from Jay. Clearly, he wasn't going to be helpful, so you needed to get to the bottom of things yourself. As soon as you got into the hallway of the bathroom, you could see the light was on, but the door was barely open. The bathroom door got messed up when Jay closed the door too hard, making it difficult to keep the door shut. A small push could open it. But Sunghoon didn't know that. You moved forward to pull it closed, but then heard Sunghoon breathing heavily.
You leaned closer to the door to listen.
"...Jeez. You're so beautiful. Y/n, holy fuck." Sunghoon softly moaned.
You moved to peek through the crack. Sunghoon was jerking himself to something on his phone, moaning your name. You didn't realize you were holding your breath watching him. His hand stroked quickly, his hair bounced lightly, and his mouth hung open with his eyes squeezed shut. His thick arms pulsed, and his veins popped. His legs shook and shifted in pleasure. You inched closer to get a better look at Sunghoon's phone, but accidentally touched the door which creaked slightly and scared Sunghoon.
"Y–Y/N! I–" Sunghoon scrambled to cover himself but he dropped his phone while doing it. His phone landed face up, showing what he was masturbating to; the photo of yourself you'd sent earlier...
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk here..." You said as you turned around and shut the door.
There was shuffling, and then the door opened. Sunghoon's face was wracked with guilt. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I..." His voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.
You turned to him. "Be honest."
He gulped before opening his mouth to answer. "I–I'm really into you, y/n. I've been like this for a while... And, I get it if you're not interested in me."
You stepped forward and kissed his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded. "Come to my room tonight. Wait till Jay's asleep." You walked off toward your room without waiting for his response. You couldn't look him in the face after what you'd seen. All you could think about was his dick and the expression he was making, replaying again and again in your mind. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, and when Jay knocked on your door to check on you, you told Jay that you didn't want to hang out anymore.
Around midnight, the house had fallen asleep except for you. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you heard a soft knock at the door.
"Y/n? It's me." Sunghoon whispered through the door.
You opened the door and let Sung Hoon in. You sat down on your bed, and he sat down on the far end of it, awkwardly looking at you in the low light of the moon that dripped in from your window.
"I've already seen it, so you can't be awkward with me now." You stated, trying to start the conversation.
"I know... I just didn't want you to find out like that. It's embarrassing." He scratched his head. "You just looked so good in that picture. The moment I saw it, it was hard. And then I saw you in person. I needed to deal with it."
You shifted a little closer to him. "Well, you were sending those pictures first. I was just following your lead."
"I wasn't trying to be sexy in the pictures..."
"Well, you're bad at not being sexy. And, why would you send that shirtless one if you weren't making a pass at me."
Sunghoon's ears went pink. "Well–Maybe I was fishing a little. But I didn't think you'd send anything back to me."
"So it's my fault?"
He turned to you. "No! I didn't mean it like that. I meant–" Sunghoon couldn't finish his sentence as he watched you unbutton your shirt.
"What? Aren't you going to get undressed?"
Sunghoon looked away from you. "Wait, what's actually happening right now?"
You shyly started putting your shirt back on. "I thought you came so we could... have sex. Or something. That was dumb, I'm sorry–"
Sunghoon knelt down in front of you and stopped your hands. "No, it's not dumb. I liked it. I was just thrown for a second. We can do that if you want. But I want to take it off you if you'll let me."
You let your hands rest, Sunghoon slowly stripped off your shirt, touching you gently, caressing your skin, and breathing in your scent deeply as he did. Once your shirt was off, he tossed his aside roughly, revealing his muscular torso to you. You automatically looked away, but he sweetly pulled your chin to face him.
"You can touch me, y/n." He spoke with softness in his voice and looked up at you with warm eyes.
You placed a hand on his shoulder. It was stiff and strong. You traced his muscles down his arm until your hands met his and locked into his fingers.
"We'll go however far you want, y/n. Whatever you want, I'm all yours." He kissed your hand.
"Can you call me baby?"
He chuckled. "Baby."
Your heart fluttered at his deep voice calling out to you.
"Baby, can I touch you?"
You nod.
Sunghoon uses his other hand to wrap around your waist and lift you off the bed, moving you so he'd sit on the bed and you on his lap. "Is this okay?" He slightly leaned in for a kiss, pausing for your consent.
You nod again. Leaning in to meet him.
Sunghoon's hands traced your chest before landing on your hips. Your hands traveled up his waist and stopped at his neck as the two of you made out. Every time you moaned Sunghoon would pull you closer to him, squeezing you slightly. You could feel him slowly grinding into you, his hips lurching upward for just a moment of sensation. You arch your back, laying your ass down to meet him, earning a groan from him.
"Keep doing that, baby." He moaned into the kiss.
You pulled away from the kiss. "We can keep moving forward."
Sunghoon lets you climb off of him. The both of you face away from one another as you toss aside your pants and underwear, leaving you both naked.
You felt a little too exposed. "Actually, can I have my shirt back?
Sunghoon handed it to you, and you took it without looking back at him. You slipped it on but left it unbuttoned and open. Slowly, you turned around to let him see you.
"You look amazing with it on. Good call." He complimented.
You blushed at his compliment and lay on the bed. "Are you coming?"
Sunghoon crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over you. "Are you prepared, or do you need me to do it?"
You covered your face. "Don't ask embarrassing questions. Just check if it's enough for you."
Sunghoon smiled. "Will you lick my fingers?"
You moved your hands just enough to show your mouth and let it open. He delicately placed his fingers on your tongue and let you work them over, tossing and turning them. You got them so wet that they were dripping as he took them out.
"Jesus, that's hot." Sunghoon put them in his mouth.
"Hoon–" He then slipped two fingers into you, making you cover your mouth so you didn't slip out any loud noises.
Sunghoon pushed and pulled softly, searching around and bending his fingers. When he found your spot, he felt you suddenly squeeze his fingers. "There it is. Now, I know where to aim."
You were starting to drool with all the foreplay. Or maybe it was an overexcited thing. Either way, Sunghoon noticed and licked your cheek, drinking your spit.
"We're going to start now. Anything you need to do?" He asked one more time for your consent.
"I've been waiting for you to get to it..." You muttered.
"Oh, baby, are you getting impatient?" He teased me.
You didn't answer and Sunghoon lined himself with your hole before slowly sliding his length inside you. You held the sheets of the bed, trying to control your noises as he filled you. He was so big, and every vein and twitch felt like an explosion inside of you. You struggled to stay still while you got used to him.
"You can do it, baby."
You moaned. "Seven inches is more than I've had before..."
"Did you count my inches with your hole? How lewd." Sunghoon chuckled. "And, we're not done yet."
Your mouth twitched a smile. "Just put it all in then."
Sunghoon put his hands on either side of your hips and pulled up into him, putting the last two inches into you.
"Nine!?" You almost screamed.
"Maybe it's 9.5, but who's counting? Now, stay quiet, or Jay will wake up." He leaned down to you, sliding his hand under your head. "Bite me if you need to."
You thought you didn't need to until you felt his hips move, and then your mouth instantly fixed itself to Sunghoon's collar. He groaned as he started moving slowly but picked up the pace when you moaned. Your thighs were raised, and your legs were around his waist, shaking as Sunghoon pulled you into him to meet his thrusts. You could feel Sunghoon's muscles moving and tensing as he controlled your body. He leaned back to see his work on you and caught you staring at his chest. His pecs were so big and bounced with every thrust.
"Oh? Does Baby like my chest? Wanna touch it?"
You nodded breathlessly.
Sunghoon leaned back down for you to touch them comfortably.
You squeeze them, pinching on his nipples. You were mesmerized by them.
"Since you like them so much, I'll keep them nice and big for you, okay?" Sunghood cool to you.
"O–Okay." You moaned as you held his pecs in your hands, kneading them roughly. The sensations were so intense you didn't even notice you'd already finished once, cum painting your stomach.
Sunghoon's thrusts got sloppier, losing their rhythm as his moans got shakier.
"I'm almost there, baby, hold on a little longer." He growled, hitting a few more times before his cum spilled into you. Which makes you cum again, painting yourself with more ropes of white. Sunghoon rode out his high, thrusting a few more times before pulling out. Cum spilling out of you, onto the bed.
Your body shook and convulsed every few seconds from the rush. You were a sticky mess, and Sunghoon took care of everything. He went into the bathroom and got you hot towels to clean you. And then he carried you to your bathroom so you could do your business. While you took care of yourself on the toilet, Sunghoon changed the sheets and waited for you to come out of the bathroom with new pajamas ready.
Sunghoon tucked you under the covers. "Goodnight, baby, I'll see you in the morning." He got under the covers with you to cuddle you.
You grabbed his arm. "You're not leaving? What about Jay?"
Sunghoon laughed. "He knows. I talked to him. He should be at Jungwon's house right now doing the same as us."
"Why would you tell him–Jungwon!? They're a thing!?"
"Since forever. And Jay's known for ages that I've liked you. After I talked to him about what happened, he chewed me out for being a pervert and jerking off in the house, but he gave me his blessing. So we don't need to worry about him~"
The two of you cuddled together for the night. You drifted to sleep to the sound of Sunghoon's heartbeat, plotting about your next morning...
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#park sunghoon#enhypen x male reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen scenarios
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I WANT TO KISS YOU [3]
GOJO さとる + fem!reader
You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
2.8k
CHAPTER INDEX
Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...
Taglist : @miwanilla / @sukunasdirtylaugh / @coco-cat / @babydiamondblog / @mp3playerblog / @froufrousnowman / @lovesickramblingsofmine / @arminswifee / @instantmusico
Visit : INBOX / LIBARY / JJK / GOJO / GOJO FAVES
You, Suguru and Satoru were stood in the shade of a flowering tree near a vending machine, getting drinks after a long hour of exploring Tokyo.
Since Satoru was tall enough to reach, he stretched his arm up and pulled down a flower from the tree overhead.
Then he turned to you.
「お花だ。」 he said softly, 「綺麗じゃないですか？」
Ohanada. Kirei jyanai desu ka? (Flowers. Aren't they beautiful?)
You listened and tried your best to understand the whole meaning of what Satoru just said.
When he saw your unsure look, he said it all again but slower and better pronounced.
Your eyes lit up with excitement as soon as you understood what he said.
It was a small moment in which you and Satoru felt triumphant over the language barrier between each other.
「はい、 綺麗です。」 you replied with confidence.
Hai, kireidesu (yes, it's beautiful)
Satoru tried to speak a little more, to test how far you could understand him. His heart was beating harder.
「この花。 。 。それはあなたのためです。」
Kono Hana... Sore wa anata no tamedesu.
"Huh?"
Suguru started laughing after seeing your expression to this — it felt like such a complicated sentence to you — but Satoru thought it was simple enough for you to piece together.
Suguru was about to translate for you but Satoru waved his hands to say no — don't translate.
「いやいや、できるよ！」 Satoru interrupted.
Iyaiya, dekiruyo! (No no, I can do it!)
Suguru laughed and nodded, "Okay." he said and gave you a vending machine soda then opened his own grape soda.
"Flower... for you." Satoru said to you.
Your lips stretched into a smile.
"Thank you, Satoru."
His heart throbbed because of the way you said his name.
He gave you a gentle look as you took the flower. The small skin-to-skin contact between your hands felt electric.
Satoru looked at the flower as you twirled it in-between your fingertips.
なんて面白い。彼女の美しさはこの花の美しさを鈍らせた。
How interesting. Her beauty dulled the beauty of this flower.
He nudged his best friend.
("Hey Suguru, it's definitely pronounced like "Flower", right?")
("Flour...?")
("Flower...?")
"Suguru, are you messing with him?"
"Yes, I am."
("Well, did I pronounce it correctly or not?")
Suguru gave him an assuring nod. Satoru seemed a little proud of himself now.
"Niiice." he said.
You gave him a cute thumbs up. He gave you a cute thumbs up back.
"You two are the cutest..." Suguru smiled softly at the exchange between you and Satoru. "I won't translate this for him, act like I'm saying something boring. But I wanted to tell you that he's been wanting to ask you out to an aquarium date — but he's too worried that you won't feel safe with him, since you can't rely on him to translate anything into English."
"Aw... that would be okay, though. I don't understand why he would be worried. We can use our phones like how we do anyways to translate stuff."
"Yeah, exactly. When I say "worried" I actually mean he's insecure. He told me he doesn't like it when — (私たちは政治について話しています) — "
He quickly said something to Satoru because the poor boy was starting to look back and forth between you and Suguru confusedly as the two of you talked more and more.
彼女とそんな風に話せたらいいのに。言いたいことはたくさんあるけど、言葉が通じないからこそ、僕らの愛は特別なものになるのかもしれない。
I wish I could talk to her like that. There are so many things I want to say, but maybe our love is special because we can't communicate in words.
" — sorry — wait, what was I saying?" Suguru returned his attention to you.
"Haha, you already forgot?"
"Yeah. Damn... what was I gonna say?"
Then Satoru asked him something, and he talked a bit with him and intermittently translated things for you.
And god, it was so attractive to listen to Suguru switch from Japanese to English for some reason. His voice changed. In English it became deeper, and in Japanese it was rumbling with sensuality.
You three took the train to somewhere.
Suguru and Satoru had been on either of your sides, the one acting as a translator and the other acting as a puppy — oh Satoru was just thoroughly obsessed with you.
彼女は天使のようだ。
She's like an angel.
("Suguru, how do I say... that I think she's like an angel?")
("Oh wow, that's quite something to say. Should I say it for you?")
("No, I can say it to her myself...")
So Suguru teaches him; "You're angelic."
And Satoru turns to you and says; "You're angelic."
Satoru looks at you, you look at him and gently raise your brows. He feels his heart start to pang fiercely in his chest and he giggles to cope with his overwhelming feelings.
"You too, Satoru."
"Thanks..." and then he said your name so gently, it made you fall a little bit more in love with him.
You three went for lunch somewhere after a lengthy walk.
Suguru ordered something spicy and offered for you to try it.
"Careful; it's spicy." Suguru told you caringly.
Satoru felt a lighthearted pang of jealousy, and acted on it;
"Hey!" he makes a barrier between you and Suguru, "No way."
"What's the matter?" you asked, thinking that Satoru maybe didn't want you to eat spicy food for some reason.
"No flirting."
"OH MY GOD! SATORU! WE WEREN'T — ughjndbs. We weren't flirting!" Suguru became completely flustered and hid his reddened face.
His overreaction showed that he felt like he'd been caught... uh, flirting. It was funny. Then Satoru made you two laugh even harder because he offered you a bite of his food a few minutes later.
("We weren't flirting...")
("Yes, I know. I was kidding, dude. Kidding.")
("You're so embarrassing, Satoru.")
("But you love me, right?")
("Nope.")
("Ah come on! Well it's fine — if you don't love me, she will love me.")
He turned to you and batted his lashes. Everything he was doing was making you and Suguru laugh.
"Love me?" he said cutely.
"Yes, I love you." you responded.
His heart throbbed.
私を愛して。
私につかまって。
キスして。。。
ああ、キスしてください。
You wondered what Satoru was thinking when he looked at you dreamily.
You three were on the train ride home after a long day spent exploring Tokyo.
Satoru sighed and slid down tiredly in his seat, arms folded over his chest like he was getting ready to take a nap. He glanced over at you in his peripherals, and his heart fluttered.
彼女の肩の上で寝たいです。
I want to sleep on her shoulder.
He brought out his phone and typed into the translator, then nudged for you to read it.
JPN : あなたの上で寝てもいいですか？
Anata no ue de nete mo īdesu ka?
ENG : Can I sleep on you?
You went through Japanese responses in your head, but then decided that a simple nod and encouraging pat on your shoulder sufficed.
So with your permission, he shyly rested his temple on the edge of your shoulder.
天国とはこういうものに違いない。
This is what heaven must be like.
He felt soft and drowsy.
You and Suguru talked in quieter voices so that Satoru could doze off, but then the two of you stopped talking altogether and instead adoringly watched him fall asleep.
His lips were a bit parted as he slept gently on your shoulder. You noticed a teeth mark on his lower lip.
"He must have a habit of biting his lip." you remarked.
"Yes, he does." Suguru confirmed, "It's a nervous habit, he's done it since middle school. I remember he said he bit his lip raw once when he was outside the principle's office after he got in trouble for getting into a fist fight with another kid — "
"He got into a fist fight with another kid when he was little?"
"Yeah. To be fair, though, the other kid started it because he said Satoru looked sickly." Suguru said.
"What!" you exclaimed.
"Yeah, middle school was ruthless. A lot of kids in our class didn't like how Satoru looked. Someone spread a rumor that his hair and eyes meant he was sick, and so if they got close they'd also get sick. So besides me and Shoko, no one really approached or befriended him."
"Jeez! I want to go back in time and also get into a fist fight with those middle schoolers now... teach 'em a lesson about spreading stupid rumors..."
"Haha... don't worry, he and I got into more than plenty fist fights to make up for it. Though, I was usually the one prying Satoru off of some other kid — they didn't stand a chance against him." Suguru laughed reminiscently.
"Oh, was he strong even as a kid?" you asked.
Suguru nodded and looked at Satoru, "Yeah... he's always been the strongest person I've known. But he's still got weak points."
"What weak points?" you asked.
"You, for one." Suguru replied, "... and sweets."
"I'm his weak spot? Ahah... well now you've made my face all hot." you chuckled embarrassedly while feeling your cheeks.
"Have I?" Suguru tilted his head.
His voice got deeper.
Suguru felt up your cheeks to test — and surely enough, they felt hot under his cool touch. You shared an electric moment with him.
「ああ、お姫様のほっぺは本当に温かいですね。」 he said.
"Huh? What does that mean? What did you say?" you asked.
"... I just said your cheeks are indeed very warm." he lied.
"Oh..." you take in a breath and stare at him, "Hey, Suguru..."
"... yeah?" he replies a little breathlessly, trying to close the proximity between you and him.
"... uh, I think we missed our stop..."
"Oh...? Oh — shit, yeah we did. Well, let's wake up the polar bear..."
So Suguru woke up Satoru.
「 さとる？私たちは電車の停留所に乗り遅れた。 」
「ああ、くそ。」 Satoru replied sleepily.
His head lifted from your shoulder, yawned and stretched and made noises like a cat, and then brought his phone out to type into the translator.
JPN : あなたの夢を見ました。
ENG : I dreamed of you.
You replied.
ENG : I hope it was a good dream.
JPN : 良い夢だったらいいのですが。
Satoru smiled sleepily at you. His eyes were puffy and lidded.
JPN : 夢の中で私たちは猫でした。
ENG : In the dream we were cats.
You let out a laugh as soon as you read the translation.
Suguru was checking train schedules, and said to you then to Satoru that the next train home was in an hour.
"Well, how are we going to spend the hour? Loitering around the station?" you asked.
"No way; spending an hour loitering around the station would be a bore and a shame. Let's go somewhere nice." Suguru said.
So you three disembarked the train and navigated through the station.
Satoru was giggling while desperately trying to communicate with you using his eyes and body language, as well as broken English. Each time you responded with a confused smile or "what?", he giggled harder.
Then once you surfaced from the metro steps you took a moment to look around at your environment in wonder.
"The feeling here is different." you commented. "It feels calmer."
"Yeah, you're right it is. Where we've been exploring all day was very busy." Suguru nodded, then promptly translated what you said for Satoru, then Satoru also nodded in agreement.
"Satoru and I haven't been around these parts, so we don't know any places to go."
You took a deep inhale and caught a whiff of a good aroma.
"Well, how about we go wherever that delicious smell is coming from?" you suggested.
The aroma that you smelled lured the three of you into a restaurant nearby.
When you sat down, Satoru pulled out your chair for you.
The atmosphere was warm and homely. Soft gold glows of lanterns lined under the outside roof of the restaurant.
You were sat outside in the cool night air.
Satoru apparently made a snobbish complaint about the dessert when it came.
"Satoru's a fussy princess about desserts." Suguru told you, "If they're not sweet enough he thinks they're bad."
Satoru interrupted and urged the two of you two look under the table.
「おい、見て見て！猫。 」 he said.
Oi, mitte mitte! Neko. (Hey, look look! A cat)
He petted the cat, meanwhile Suguru didn't even bother.
"Minto may not like you, but maybe stray cats do." you said.
"It's probably not a stray. It looks healthy, the restaurant owner probably takes care of it. Anyways..." he raised his hand to remind you of how Minto scratched him recently, "I won't risk getting another cat scratch, I'm not carrying any bandaids or antiseptic."
"Cutie..." Satoru was talking to the cat. It seemed to really like him, but then a clattering noise of dishes from inside the restaurant scared it off.
"Don't go!" Satoru whined, then grumbled something in Japanese that made Suguru laugh.
"Aw, Satoru did you just get heartbroken by a cat..." You laughed.
Satoru looked at you as soon as you said his name.
He had been half stretching off his chair to pet the cat.
His hair flopped when he turned his head at this odd angle, looking cat-like himself.
He winked at you.
You giggled flirtatiously back.
"Wow, this tension..." Suguru looked between you two. "It's just eating me up."
"Haha, shut up..."
"You two need to kiss."
「キス？」 Satoru perked his ears up.
"Yeah, kiss." Suguru said.
"Kisu, or Kisshu, from Tokyo Mew Mew?" you joked.
"Huh?" Satoru looked at you.
"Huh?" you looked at Satoru.
"Quiche? Kisshu? Kisu?" Suguru looked at Satoru.
"What??" Satoru looked confused.
The three of you started laughing, not sure what anyone was saying anymore. But anything you did say seemed absolutely hilarious. Maybe you were just high on each other.
After food, the three of you went exploring again, and got lost in each other's company.
Whenever Satoru looked at you, his eyes glittered with wonder. He looked so in love, so enraptured with you, that no one else in the world seemed to exist anymore to him except for you.
You were becoming his everything.
The three of you debated an interesting topic while getting lost in Tokyo; what is love?
Satoru was grumbling and making frustrated noises because he didn't know how to tell you what he thought in English, and he also didn't want Suguru to translate too much because he thought it might be overwhelming for him.
He got a little jealous when you and Suguru understood each other perfectly and seemed to reach a conclusion.
But actually, Suguru was saying something different to what Satoru thought.
"I think the two of you have the purest kind of love. Neither of you say almost anything to each other, instead you just feel love. Which is what you're supposed to do — love is not meant to be declared with words, only felt with hearts."
"Wow... Suguru, you're pretty poetic. But yes, I agree. Wordless love is very pure. Then again... it would be nice to understand each other, you know?" you said.
Suguru shrugged in response, "Enjoy it for what it is now. You'll understand each other one day anyways."
"Love is..." Satoru interjected, thinking hard.
You and Suguru looked at him expectantly.
He'd been preparing himself while you and Satoru had been talking.
"... love is small stuff." he said. "You know?"
"Love is... in small things?" You tilted your head at him, "I like that."
"Mhm. Small things... you know... like... uhhh... like... flowers." he said, and made the giving motion — from his heart to you, "Flowers, you know?"
"Yes, flower giving is a love language." you smiled, recalling the flower that he gave you. You'd pressed it into your Japanese pocket phrasebook to preserve it.
Suguru translated what you ha said to Satoru, and then the latter boy nodded and started blushing.
でも、桜の木全体では、私がどれだけあなたを愛しているかを表現することはできません。
But a whole cherry tree can't express how much I love you.
© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
#gojo#gojo satoru#fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x fem reader#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#jjk fic#gojo fic#gojo x reader fluff#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader x geto#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujustu kaisen#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen#satoru
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our compatibility is... 0%!?
includes : the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor).
summary : you come across one of those 'compatibility' quizzes and decide to take it as a joke— only for the results to end up saying you two are NOT perfect for each other!? what!?
warnings : gn! reader, insecurities.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Lucifer
Lucifer had always been very popular with his good looks, so you really weren't all that surprised to see the Devildom heartthrob on a magazine cover with the promise of a compatibility quiz inside. You decided to buy it just for laughs.
"Must you really?" He sighs, shaking his head at your childish antics. Lucifer, however, couldn't deny the little bit of excitement he felt knowing you'd score a perfect 100- except as you circled your answered and tallied up your score...
Lucifer scoffed, taking the magazine and putting on his reading glasses. Well this is just ridiculous! He shook his head, tossing the magazine to the side. "What do those idiots know anyways?" He glances at you, hoping you weren't too upset by the results, only for him to see you giggling. Were you happy with the results, or perhaps are you laughing at him?
Seeing his mood begin to sour at both of those thoughts, you rest your head on his shoulder and take hold of his hand. "We seem to have a habit of beating the odds, don't we?"
Oh? So that's what made you so happy? Knowing that you two some how managed to fall so deeply in love, despite being opposites, despite the odds being pitted against you two time and time again? Yes, he concludes internally, your love was extraordinary.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Mammon
"Look, your super hot boyfriend is on the cover of this months magazine." He says, throwing down the magazine in front of you. You quirk a brow, forgetting earlier this month about his photoshoot, and flipped through the pages, smiling at the sight of him.
"You look very handsome," You coo, leaning up to give him a kiss before you flipped to that page. Mammon instantly grew hot in the face and tried to snatch the magazine back but it was too late, your interest was piqued.
"Ohoho? What's this? A dating quiz?" You wiggle brows, answering the questions in your head.
"Give it back, 's embarrassin'!" He whined, still trying to get it but it's too late, you've turned the page to get your answer and-
"Wha- we aren't compatible!?" You turn to face Mammon with a frown, giving him the magazine back.
"Wait what?!" Finally he snatches the magazine from you and reads the questions before frowning as he flips to the answer page and, "'m not even compatible with myself?" You both share a look before an eased laughter fill the room. "Who even came up with these questions 'n answers? My favorite thing is obviously-"
"Grim?"
"You!... But then grim, yeah."
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Leviathan
You had just been sent a link by an anonymous number, and seeing Levi's name in the link had you curious, so you opened it and was brought to a quiz on... how compatible are you and the third born, leviathan!
Peeking over at Levi who was still farming for materials on his phone, you decided to take the silly little quiz. You felt pretty confident in your answers, knowing him best. It wasn't until the 'YOU TWO ARE TOTALLY INCOMPATIBLE' screen came up that you gasped, catching Levi's attention.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, brows furrowed a little. You blink, before forcing a smile and nodding.
"Yeah, totally, everything is perfect!" You say, exiting out of the quiz and moving to cuddle up with him. "You know I love you, right?" He blushes, looking away and nodding.
"Y- Yeah, I do... I love you too..." His voice grows more and more quiet until you barely hear him- but you know what he says. You giggle, pressing a kiss to the side of his face.
"Good! 'Cause no matter what anyone says, we're a perfect match~" Levi tenses, before whipping his head around to look at you, tears in his eyes.
"Did... Did someone say we're not?" Deciding to not make him worry anymore, you shake your head, making plans to block the unknown number but not before telling them how terrible their quiz is.
"No, don't you worry~" Thankfully, he relaxes after that- and the quiz is taken down shortly after your complaint.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Satan
"Oh, what are you doing?" Satan asked, peeking over your shoulder to look at your computer. He read the title of the quiz and to say the least, he pulled a seat up next to you. "A dating quiz, hm?"
"I like reading the scenarios that go with it. I always get you, of course." You say, rather proudly, as you click the last question. "See, I got-!? I got Mammon!?" You can almost hear the way Satan's jaw clenches.
"Well, it's all in good fun." He says, but his expression betrays his nonchalant words.
"This doesn't usually happen," You clarify, scrolling down, "watch you'll be in second place-... or last..." You mumble, seeing you didn't get a single answer right for the 'Satan' choice. "Not all quizzes are created equally, this one is obviously a bad quiz so- where are you going?"
The sinister aura he's carrying makes a chill run down your spine, and fear for whoever has to face his wrath. "I just remembered I have to pay Mammon a visit."
"It doesn't have anything to do with this quiz though, right?"
"..."
"Right?"
He clears his throat, a little blush forming on his cheeks, "I'll be going now."
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Asmodeus
"Look what came out today~" Asmo says as he jumps into bed beside you, giggling as he flips through the pages and admiring himself. "Don't I look good enough to eat?" He asks, showing you the pictures.
"Oh, you look amazing, Asmo!" You take the magazine and flip through a few more pages of him. He truly was gorgeous and such an amazing model.
"And~" Asmo says in a sing-songy way, flipping the page to a specific number, "Look at this, a dating quiz." Pink hearts surrounded the questions and several adorable pictures of Asmo decorated the page. "So, how compatible are we? 100 percent? 1000 percent? A million?"
"Uhmm..." Quickly answering the questions honestly, you frown. "Zero."
"Zero!?" He snatches it back from you, looking over the questions and answers. "H- How could you possibly get a zero? We're soulmates!" He whines, leaning into you.
"Well, it's just a silly magazine quiz, I wouldn't read too much into it." Asmo was clearly not satisfied with this though, as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Honey, what are you doing?" You ask, hesitant because you hadn't seen him this worked up since they claimed his hot pink leopard print outfit wasn't 'cozy chic'.
"Obviously calling the magazine and telling them they made an error with the compatibility quiz! We'll just have them change all the right answers to whatever yours were." As sweet as that is, you take the phone away from him and help him get it off of his mind with some kisses.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Beelzebub
"Beel this is serious," You whine, "We aren't compatible!" Beelzebub furrows his brows. You're really that upset about the dating quiz? He sets his food down and turns to look at you, smiling weakly.
"But we are compatible."
"Well not according to that quiz!" Beel frowns. If he could, he's get rid of the quiz all together and tell you a million times over that you two are the most compatible people to ever exist, but he can't do the first part so...
"But we are." He says, "We don't need a quiz to tell us what we are or aren't." He takes a bite of his food, before continuing, "I can't imagine wanting to be with anyone else, ever."
Your quietness didn't go unnoticed by Beelzebub, who worries maybe he said the wrong thing. He offers you a fry as a peace treaty, and you take it, although you don't eat it right away.
"Beel?"
"Yeah?"
"You're right. I also... can't imagine being with anybody else either, so..." you take a bite of the fry, "let's just forget about that dumb, dumb quiz." He chuckles, agreeing easily.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── Belphegor
"Maybe we aren't compatible 'cause you're annoying, that's why, now leave me alone." He whines, swatting his hand at you to try and shoo you away. You huff, not giving in as you ask him how he'd answer one of the quiz questions. When he gave the same answer as you you were resolute in your conclusion that this quiz was simple wrong. Belphie didn't really seem to care though.
"You're so rude." You say, "If it were the other way around you'd be all clingy and whining and saying how we're so compatible."
"Well I wouldn't fail the compatible quiz." He states matter-of-factly, turning around to face you. "Anyways," he rips the magazine from you and crumples the paper up, "not like these dumbasses know me any better than you do." He throws the paper over his shoulder and looks up at you. "So will you quit whining already?"
"So you think we're compatible?"
"If I say yes will you go to sleep already."
"Belphie!"
"Ugh! Yes, I think we're more compatible than anybody else in all three realms, and I really mean it, okay? So now just, c'mere, and go to sleep!" He lifts his arm and you snuggle in close to him, your happiness radiating off of you. "Stop smiling it's creeping me out."
"You looove me~"
"Yeah, yeah..."
(Seems your smiling was infectious, as Belphie fell asleep with a very content smile on his lips)
꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!
#obey me x reader#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#om x reader#om imagines#om headcanons#omswd x reader#omswd imagines#omswd headcanons#obey me fluff#lucifer x reader#mammon x reader#leviathan x reader#satan x reader#asmodeus x reader#beelzebub x reader#belphegor x reader
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Vacation
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader.
Summary: You and Matt have known each for as long as you can remember due to your parents being best friends. The only thing is, you hate each other. Now you were going on vacation with the Sturniolos.
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"I'm not sitting by him." I say, annoyed.
"Well I'm not sitting back there." Chris shrugs. "I'm not either." Nick agrees. I clench my jaw, theres no way was I gonna sit by Matt Sturniolo for hours on end.
"Please someone just switch me seats." I beg as Nick and Chris shake their heads. I sigh and sit next to Matt in the very back seat. He doesn't look up from his phone. MaryLou gets in the driver's seat as my mom gets in the passenger's seat.
"Everybody ready?" MaryLou smiles as she begins driving. Nick, Chris, and my mom all nod. I put my airpods in my ears and listen to music. This is gonna be a long ride.
-
After being in the car for 9 hours, stopping occasionally on the way to go to the gas station and whatnot, we finally made it to a hotel. I live in Boston, as well as the triplets. We are going to Orlando Florida. 19 hours away and we still had 10 more to go. 10 more hours.
"I'm so tired." I say as we all walk into the hotel. "Me too." Chris nods.
We check in to the hotel and go on the elevator to the 3rd floor. Once we get there my mom speaks, "Okay so we are gonna have rooms in pairs. MaryLou with me in room 105, Chris with Nick in room 106, and Matt with y/n in room 107." My face drops.
"No. I am not sharing a room with Matt." I shake my head. Matt glares at me as my mom speaks, "you two need to get over whatever hatred you have for each other. It will be perfect for you to bond. You're sharing a room whether you like it or not." I roll my eyes, "Fine."
Marylou hands everyone their room key and we all go to our rooms. When I open the door my face drops in disbelief. Only one bed. "Where are you gonna sleep?" I ask, turning to face Matt.
"In the bed." He states blankly. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. You can sleep on the floor or something." I say, sitting on the bed.
He sits on the bed next to me, "I'm sleeping in the bed whether you like it or not." I sigh, "Fine but keep some distance." He nods and I head to the bathroom to shower.
After I've showered I wrap the towel around myself, brush my teeth, and do my skincare. I realize I forgot to grab pajamas from my bag in the room so I walk out of the bathroom and get some pajamas from my backpack. I see Matt looking at me before turning away.
I walk back into the bathroom and get dressed. I put my hair in two french braids and walk to the bed, I lay down and Matt rolls his eyes, muttering something underneath his breath. He stands up and stomps into the bathroom. A minute later I hear the shower turn on. I drift off to sleep.
-
I wake up and try to move but then stop, realizing Matt's body was pressed against mine, his arm around my waist. I hear him breathing softly and feel his heart beating against my back. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm really comfortable right now. No y/n you can't be thinking about Matt this way.
I sit up and his arm wraps tighter around me before I push it away and go into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
-
"You ready to go yet?" Matt asks, sounding slightly annoyed. "Yeah." I grab my backpack and exit the hotel room, seeing My mom, MaryLou, Chris, and Nick all exiting their rooms.
"How did you guys sleep?" My mom asks softly. "Good." Nick and Chris say in union, Matt and I not saying anything.
My mom tilts her head at Matt and I. "what about you two?" I look at the floor, trying to avoid Matt's gaze. "I slept fine." I lie, knowing I slept the best I have in a long time. Matt nods his head, agreeing with me.
"Well, we better get going!" MaryLou says happily and we all walk to the elevator.
-
"I have to sit back there again?" "Yes y/n Chris and I already agreed we were all gonna sit in the same spots that we sat in yesterday." Nick says, sitting down in his seat.
I roll my eyes and sit by Matt. This time he looked up at me, stared for a moment, then looked back down at his phone. It's okay y/n, you only have to sit by him for 10 more hours.
-
"We're here!" Marylou sings loudly. "Finally." I mutter, stepping out of the car. I grab my bags and suitcase from the trunk and walk up to the vacation home we're gonna be staying in.
I walk in, everyone following behind me. "Theres only 3 bedrooms so MaryLou and I discussed what we'll do." My mom says, looking at Marylou. "We are each gonna share a room with the person we shared the hotel rooms with. Nick with Chris, MaryLou with me, and Matt with y/n."
My eyes widen "What?" Matt glares at me. "Y/n you'll be fine. You and Matt need to spend some time together." MaryLou smiles softly.
"Which room is it?" My mom points to a room and I walk in, setting my bag down on the bed. Of course there was only one bed. I didn't even question where Matt was gonna sleep.
-
I wake up and realize this time Matt wasn't holding me from behind, I was resting my head on his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist, and his hand resting on my hip. I sit up and go to the bathroom to get ready, same thing I do everyday.
-
"Matt I need your help." I say, unzipping my suitcase that's on the bed next to where Matt's sitting. Matt looks up from his book with an annoyed expression on his face "What do you want?"
I pick up two bikini sets "Black or blue? I don't know which one to wear first." He looks at me for a moment "Blue." I smile at him and he shakes his head, looking back down at his book.
I head to the bathroom and change into my blue bikini set. I put on some shorts and a t-shirt over it. When I go back into the room I see Matt shirtless and notice he put on blue swim trunks.
I look down, grab a beach towel, and walk out of the room. I walk to the car where MaryLou, my mom, Chris, and Nick are all waiting. I sit in the same seat Nick and Chris assigned me. Matt walks out and sits in the car next to me a few moments later. Matt looks at me and then looks away quickly.
"Let's get to the beach!" My mom says happily.
How am I gonna keep my eyes off of Matt. Shirtless Matt.
-
"CHRIS!!!" I laugh as he pushes me into the water with him. I look over and see Matt glaring at us, I quickly look away.
"You two lovebirds having fun?!" MaryLou shouts at Chris and me from the spot her and my mom are laying at. Chris smirks at me and I hit his chest playfully, but I probably shouldn't have because he picked me up and threw me at Matt who was standing in the water next to us.
Matt wraps his arms around me to catch me and then pushes me back towards Chris. "Chris stop doing stupid shit." Matt says angrily. Chris looks at Matt and sticks his tongue out, acting like a child.
"Chris you're acting 5 right now." Nick laughs as Chris turns to face me, wrapping his arms around my waist "You love it, don't you?" Matt clenches his jaw, clearly not liking what Chris just said to me.
"I do not, Christopher!" I giggle, shaking my head. Matt grabs my wrist and drags me away from Chris. "Let go of me!"
Matt keeps a tight grip on my wrist, dragging me to where my beach towel lays. He grabs it and turns to face me, letting go of my wrist. He wraps it around my body and grabs my wrist again, walking towards the car.
"What are you doing?" I try to get my arm away from him but he grips my wrist tighter. "We're going back to the vacation home." I furrow my eyebrows, "what? No, not yet."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes, we are."
"No, we aren't."
He stops, letting go of my wrist as he turns to face me. He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes with an unreadable expression.
"I need to talk to you, so we are leaving." I furrow my eyebrows out of confusion, "about what?" He sighs, "just come with me." I nod and he grabs my hand, leading me to the car. We sit in the seats we usually do and everyone else comes in the car too.
-
When we get back to the vacation home Matt grabs my hand and leads me into the room we're staying in, shutting the door behind us. He sits on the bed and I sit next to him.
"What did you wanna talk to me about?" He takes a deep breath before responding, "I don't hate you. I thought I did, but I don't."
"So you wanna be friends with me now?" I question, looking up at him. He shakes his head, "I think I'm falling in love with you." My eyes widen and he continues to speak, "I know you don't-" "I'm actually in love with you, I just acted like I hated you because I thought you hated me."
His eyes widen and he grabs my face, making me look at him, "I love you, y/n."
"I love you, Matt." I smile and he presses his lips against mine.
The end.
____________________________________________
a/n: this is horrible. There might be an epilogue but idk. I put all 3 parts together for this since they were so short and could all be 1 part.
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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Treat you like a lady
• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.
• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.
• Word count: 2,031
Sunday
Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.
The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.
A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.
Chris breaks the awkward silence.
“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”
“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.
I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”
“What?”
You look up from your phone.
“…What.” You echo.
“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”
Your cheeks get warm.
Think of a way to brush this off.
“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”
He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.
“... Do you do it for him?”
A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”
“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”
Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?
“This is none of your business.” You scoff.
“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.
Chris doesn’t give up yet.
“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”
You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.
“I’ll see you later, Chris.”
7:00 pm
Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.
You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.
Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.
“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.
It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.
You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.
“I'm over here, goof.”
It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you asked
“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.
1:12 am
Well, that’s a first.
Monday
Chris opened the front door.
“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.
Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.
“Yeah about that,”
You cleared your throat and walked inside.
“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”
His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.
“What?”
“It’s not personal, it’s-”
“Did he put you up to this?”
“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.
“How can I when you’re all I think about?”
The air in the room gets thick.
“What?”
“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.
“I could treat you better than him.”
You laugh, “What are you talking about?”
He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“You know it’s true.”
He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.
“I can make you feel good.”
You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.
Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.
He must be bluffing… right?
“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.
I need to stop this.
“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.
Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.
“Does he make you nervous like I do?”
Chris' eyes fall to your lips.
“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
Shit.
Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.
Wait, don’t go anywhere.
You press your lips forward, chasing him.
It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.
He straightens up.
“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”
Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.
“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”
“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”
You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.
You pull back for air.
“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”
“Ok.”
But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.
It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.
“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”
“I’d really like that.”
4:15 pm
Me: just left his house. whew.
Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.
6:00pm
“How long have you liked me?”
“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”
Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.
You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.
“Damn, you have some knots right here.”
“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”
“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”
Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.
“Is it ok if I bring this up?”
“Mhm.”
He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.
Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.
“That feeling good?”
“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”
He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”
After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.
He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.
“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”
“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.
You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.
He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.
“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”
While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.
You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.
You nod into his pillow.
“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”
Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.
“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.
“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”
He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.
Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.
“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.
He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.
Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.
Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”
When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.
Your back arches off the bed.
“That’s it.” he says into my skin.
He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.
“God, you’re everything.”
It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.
“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”
“Fuck yes.” You moan.
When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.
Chris tsks.
“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”
“Shut up.”
You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.
“Yes ma’am.”
Jesus
Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.
“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”
You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.
Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.
He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.
“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.
“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Please, so close.”
“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”
He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.
In an instant your vision goes black.
The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.
You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.
“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.
“Hi”
“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”
He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.
You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.
It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS
WC: 7.7k
A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.
Chapter 16/20
Divider credit to @saradika
Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum
--
The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.
“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”
“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”
You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”
“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.
Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”
“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”
You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.
“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.
“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.
Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”
“Water?”
“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”
“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.
“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”
Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”
You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”
Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.
“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.
The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.
It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.
“Daddy, I gotta pee!”
You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.
“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”
“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”
“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”
Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.
The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.
Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”
Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”
“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.
Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.
“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”
Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”
You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.
Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.
Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.
You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.
Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”
“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”
You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”
You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.
“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”
“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.
Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.
“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.
“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.
“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.
“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.
Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.
The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.
“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”
You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.
Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.
“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”
The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.
Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.
“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.
“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.
Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.
“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.
“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”
You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.
“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”
The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”
Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.
“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.
The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.
“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.
Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”
“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”
“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”
Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”
Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.
The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.
“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.
Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.
He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.
His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.
Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.
“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.
”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”
“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.
To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.
You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.
She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.
“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”
Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”
You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”
“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”
She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.
“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.
Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”
“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”
He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”
Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.
“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”
“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.
Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”
You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”
“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.
His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Do you love my daddy?”
You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”
Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”
“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”
He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”
You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.
“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.
This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?
“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.
Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.
To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.
Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.
“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”
You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”
His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”
“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.
It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.
You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.
He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.
“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”
“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.
Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.
He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.
“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.
You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.
Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.
Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.
“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.
“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”
The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.
“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”
You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.
“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”
“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.
He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.
“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.
He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”
You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.
“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”
The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.
“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”
“Yes, dear.”
You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.
Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”
He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”
The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.
“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”
“What?”
“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”
“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”
The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.
“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”
“I know!”
“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”
“I know!”
“--the whole time. Got it?”
“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”
Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.
You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.
Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.
“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.
“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”
Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.
“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.
To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”
Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”
“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.
“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”
“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.
“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.
You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.
“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”
“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”
“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”
“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”
The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”
“Mhm.”
She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”
Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.
The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.
“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”
Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”
“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.
You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”
Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.
“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.
“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.
“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”
Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”
Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”
The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.
You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.
“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.
You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.
“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.
“Going home.”
He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”
“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”
“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”
He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.
The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”
A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.
He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.
You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.
“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.
“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.
“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.
He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.
Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.
When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.
He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.
He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.
“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.
The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.
That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.
Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.
Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?
Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.
And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.
The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.
Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.
You’re almost a full week late.
--
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@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead
@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3
@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee
@quentinswife @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @tanyaherondale @bmunson86 @lg-123
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#tui
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“vernon,” you declare, with a level of magnanimity you only reach when it’s past 11pm. “i have a question for you. of the philosophical kind.”
your best friend glances up through the brown strands that fall over his eyes. “okay,” he agrees half-dubious, half-intrigued. “hit me.”
you sit heavily on the couch beside him, throwing your head against the back of it, staring up at the ceiling with deep, ponderous solemnity. “why is it called being in love?”
vernon considers. “i don’t think that’s very philosophical,” he says, after a moment. “the google definition of philosophy is the fundamental nature of knowledge, existence and reality.”
you cast him a look. “how the fuck do you know the google definition of philosophy? just like that?” he shrugs. you sigh, affectionately. “of course you do.”
there’s silence for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the washing machine in your other room. your roommate is gone for the weekend; it’s just you, and now vernon, because he knows you don’t like being alone at night.
finally, you speak. “you didn’t answer my question.”
vernon doesn’t miss a beat. “it wasn’t philosophical. i felt misled.”
he’s being annoying. “you’re being annoying.” your best friend is so annoying, but you think the most annoying thing about him is that you can’t kiss him to shut him up.
“besides,” you say, “isn’t love our knowledge, existence and reality?”
slightly more thoughtful silence, broken by — “damn,” vernon says, impressed. “you got me there. that was deep.”
“right?” your enthusiasm with yourself makes him smile, a crooked and charming lift of his lips. you’re still talking, admirably excited and animated for two in the morning. “what i mean is like… why can’t you be in anything else? you can’t be in friendship.”
vernon nods, slowly. “like us, you mean.”
“yeah. like us.” you pause, hesitating on the edge of what you’re about to say. “we’re not in friendship, nobody says that.”
he’s smiling, leaning back against the couch. “i mean, we can start saying it, if you want.”
“i’d rather say something else.” you squeeze your eyes shut, because suddenly this is a lot more daunting than you’d thought, and your hands are getting kind of clammy, but you’re committed now, and so — “i’d rather say we’re in love.”
silence for the third time tonight, and this one makes you want to implode. “eventually, i mean!” you’re already rushing your words, tripping them over each other in your hurry to force them out. “i’m not like, in love with you right now. maybe. nearly, i think. and i don’t —”
when vernon interrupts you, it doesn’t feel like an interruption, it’s so soft. “did you… did you set up this whole conversation just to confess to me like that?”
you open your eyes to look at him, sheepish, apprehensive, embarrassed, all at once. “maybe?” and then you’re rambling again: “because there are some flaws in my argument, you know, because technically you can be in acquaintance with someone or — ”
vernon interrupts you for a second time, which is so unlike him, but you’re not going to point that out. not when his hands are cupping your cheeks, his lips are brushing yours and he’s smiling as he kisses you, soft and sweet and honeyed.
and he pulls back just the barest inch to murmur, with your noses bumping and eyelashes brushing and the cheesiest smiles on both your faces — “i’m nearly in love with you too.”
an / u will literally have to pry friend 2 lovers vernon out of my cold dead hands. sorry i can’t stop writing it but also i’m not sorry at all
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura
#vernon fluff#vernon x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#vernon fic#vernon scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fic
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underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader
masterlist I word count: 1687
a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂
You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.
It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.
You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”
Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”
“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.
You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”
“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.
“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.
She nodded: “I am.”
“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.
“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.
You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”
Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.
“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.
“Oh, that‘s sweet.”
The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”
“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.
Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”
“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.
“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.
Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”
You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”
“Yes.”
“That‘s a funny coincidence.”
You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”
The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”
With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”
“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.
“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.
“Sure.”, you nodded.
“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.
“So true.”, you agreed.
After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”
“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.
Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”
“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.
“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.
For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”
Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”
“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.
You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”
After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”
“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.
“How cute.”, Carla smirked.
While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”
“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.
“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.
She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”
“Alright.”, you answered.
After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”
“What?”, you frowned at her.
“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.
This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”
Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.
“You should.”, your friend grinned.
You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”
“I could tell that you thought that.”
Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.
The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.
“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.
“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.
Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“
“Guys, stop.“
When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“
“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.
Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that’s soon?“
“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.
Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“
Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.
“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“
Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“
“Appreciate it.“
It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.
Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“
“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.
Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“
“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.
But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“
“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.
Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“
You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“
“Perfect.“
Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.
At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.
When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.
You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“
“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.
You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”
“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.
Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”
“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.
Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.
“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.
Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”
“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.
“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.
“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.
You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”
“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.
Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”
“I will.”
With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.
A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”
Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”
“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.
#cata coll#cata coll x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#woso community#woso one shot#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni#espwnt#woso oneshot#patri guijarro#womens football#cata coll imagine
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I WANNA BE YOURS | WOSO X READER | PT 14
pairings: woso x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: fourteen
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
you guys
back me up here
lotte
y/n
absolutely not
neev
oooh
what's gotten lotte acting like this
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
so
i made this insane connection yeah
lotte is literally a female tom holland
but miss wubben-moy here is denying it
the REAL karate kid
huh?
mccard
hold on
you might be onto something here
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
LOOOK
it's not the best photo to compare from
but tell me i ain't the only who sees it
stairway
OMG
brightness
oh yeah
i'm seeing it
stephy
YESSS
it's the side profile
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
exactly!!
meado
that is insane
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
seeee lotte!
i meant it as a compliment when i said
you look like tom holland's twin
elton changed lotte's name to tom holland's twin
tom holland's twin
neev
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
😔😔
tom holland's twin
niamh
do i need to remind you of this
afternoon at the beach?
because i will
hempo
oooh i wanna know what happeneddd
daly
stairway
WAIT
YOU GUYS WENT TO THE BEACH?!
AND DIDN'T INVITE ME
the REAL karate kid
that is so sad
we must've completely forgotten about you
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
OMG YESS
I HAVE AMAZING PHOTOS TO SHARE
neev
Y/N NO
tom holland's twin
Y/N YES
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
this one and jessie were STRUGGLING
for an hour trying to place their mats 😭😭
it was so funny
flaming hot
STOPPP
DONT REMIND ME
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
and miss fleming here
even gave me the bird
guys she's not as innocent as she looks
flaming hot
oh shut up y/n
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
you're just sour that the wind loved me
flaming hot
yeah i really am
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
i'm justfdghjkem ehyu
tyuiolkjehsyuikmdrnh
willybum
um
y/n
you good?
elton
are you having a stroke rn?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
sorry y/n's a bit busy rn
neev
WHERE'S Y/N MY BAE
AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
if you want to see her alive again
i'm gonna need y'all to venmo me 10k each
stairway
10k?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
is that too much for you?
stairway
oh no no
it was just surprising how you didn't go for
one 1 million like everyone usually does
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
oh
well i guess if you want it that way
then 1 million each from y'all
willybum
STANWAY WTH
neev
had to open that big mouth of yours
ona
we'll save y/n
just what is this venmo and how
do i venmo you money?
elton
i mean do we have to .....
she'll be fineee
neev
you know what
how about 1 m for y/n
toone will pay for it on behalf of us all
elton
HUH
excuse you
i ain't venmoing anyone a million dollars
i'm positive i don't even have a hundred dollars
in my bank account
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
wow glad to know how much i'm worth 😔
ona
y/n!
you're okay!
do i still have to venmo for your safety?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
oh no no
don't worry about it ona
you're too sweet for this world 🥺
kyra and charli were being jerks and snatched
my phone and ran away
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ added kyra and cha cha
kyra
aw man
you ruined the fun 😔
i could've earned some money
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
nahhh
ona's too precious to be scammed by you
but i mean ella on the other hand ....
elton
OI
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
OMG
HOW MANY SELFIES DID YOU
TWO TAKE ON MY PHONE?!
cha cha
just enough 😁
stephy
i was dreading when the three
of you would meet up
as if we don't already have enough
chaos in this groupchat
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
stephyyy
why would you think that 😔
cha cha
honestly
kyra
the REAL karate kid
😭😭
willybum
HELP
cha cha
HAHA I LOVE THIS PLS
stephy
kyra
WOAH WOAH WOAH
stephy
kyra
cha cha
HELP
YOU BEAT KYRA WITH MEMES
I CANT BELIEVE THIS
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
HAHAHA
STEPH YOU ICONIC LEGEND
I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
i don't even know what the hell this is anymore 😭😭 but i hope you enjoyed this nonsense
part fifteen here
#woso x reader#lionesses x reader#engwnt x reader#auswnt x reader#matildas x reader#engwnt#woso imagine#woso fanfics#alessia russo x reader#niamh charles x reader#jessie fleming x reader#kyra cooney cross x reader#charli grant x reader#steph catley x reader#ona batlle x reader#lotte wubben moy x reader#leah williamson x reader#ella toone x reader#georgia stanway x reader
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pookie!!! saw u are taking saltburn requests!!!!
thoughts on farleigh + reader with the same amount of snark as him?? like initially not being able to STOMACH each other & biting each other’s heads over (both ignoring felix’s groaned requests to “keep the peace”) and then being like…. wait why r u….kinda……
just that back and forth banter would be so good with him + ur WRITING!!! big smooches mwah
ugghh your mind!! love this and love you, sending smooches back ×100 !!! (fem!reader, wc: ±1700)
"I don't understand what's wrong?" you asked, briefly looking over your essay again before sparing your tutor a confused glance, waiting for his input instead. "There's nothing wrong with it," Farleigh's voice only deepened your frown, "It's just a little... loose."
"Loose?"
"Yeah, loose. You don't have a really strong argument," he continued, head resting in his palm as he peered at you from where he sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with you. My argument is quite coherent right throughout," you said. "Maybe, but is it convincing?" he said, small smile on his lips that made your blood boil.
"Okay," you sighed softly, "How about your essay, Farleigh?" you asked, internally reveling at the way his cocky smile faltered. "I'm working on it," he huffed after a short pause. "Well until then, keep your comments to yourself."
"I was just trying to help," he retorted.
"Oh, screw you."
"Alright, I think we can end tonight's session early. Give you some time to finish up," your lecturer interrupts. "And give you, mister Start, time to actually begin?" he gives Farleigh a pointed look.
You hastily packed your things away before wordlessly making your way out. Your poor tutor must've been used to the two of yours constant arguing by now, seeing as that was how many of your sessions ended. You never saw eye to eye and the banter was stupid most of the time, but Farleigh had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could.
You were beginning to think he had some sort of personal vendetta against you, even though you really couldn't think of ways that you've wronged him in the past that deserved that sort of behavior. He loved embarrassing you, and as many times as you've tried to be the better person, you just couldn't help from slipping your own little comments, satisfaction only really gained when you managed to wipe the smug smile from his face.
Farleigh had completely spoiled your mood, and you figured the best way to forget about your day would be to go out for a few drinks. You definitely felt like a loser going to the pub alone but you wouldn't have been great company anyway. You however, very quickly regretted your decision when you saw the very source of your foul mood sitting by one of the tables causing a commotion as he often did. Felix saw him before he did, excitedly calling out to you and asking you to join them.
Farleigh wasn't as excited as the rest of the table at your presence, but you refused to let him ruin your night.
"Funny seeing you outside." Farleigh said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtay in the middle of the full table. "Why would it be funny?" you asked. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're just such a homebody, hardly see you anywhere," he said. "But it's probably for the best, right?" he added, and you already sensed a verbal lashings following. "You'll need all the extra study time if you're gonna keep up."
"Farleigh," Felix silently scolded, but by now your heart was already beating in your ears, irritation setting deep inside your chest and making you feel hot with rage.
You bit the inside of your cheek. "You always seem to forget that you got into Oxford on favors," you said, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched, facade still holding strong. "I'm not the one partying my life away. If anyone needs extra study time, it's you." In retrospect, it probably was a low blow, but the ethical line was hardly visible when it came to Farleigh.
The silence at the table was all consuming, and Felix, like the godsend he was, decided to speak up and end the wordless staring competition between the two of you. "Okay, uhm, shots. We need shots," he said, everyone quickly agreeing with him. "C'mon Farleigh, come help me," he said, practically dragging the boy along with him.
From there it only got worse the more time the two of you spent together, which was quite frequently because you ran in the same circles. You were friends by chance, only really connected through Felix, who you've known for years. Your mothers were friends, and the two of you quickly became close through her visits to their sprawling estate, often dragging you along. You've met Farleigh through Felix, and though it was evident the two of you didn't get along, Felix was still determined to try and make it work.
₊˚⊹
You were beyond relieved to be able to spend the summer away from uni and get a chance to breathe again without any academic stress. You had planned to visit your mother back home until Felix had asked you to come to Saltburn to spend the summer with them instead.
"C'mon," he tried, "Venetia will be so happy to see you again. And mum." You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating his offer carefully. It wasn't an extremely difficult decision; the days at Saltburn served as some of the best memories you've ever made.
You certainly didn't regret accepting his offer either. The last few weeks have been amazing at the grand estate, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. It would've, however, been much better if Farleigh wasn't looming over you like a dark cloud. You genuinely tried to keep the peace, but he knew exactly how to aggravate you. You could see it was beginning to irritate everyone around you, especially Felix.
"Will this work for tonight?" you asked, smoothing your hand over the soft material of the dress. It was so easy to run out of appropriate attire when you had to give your best every night at Saltburn. Tonight was special, and although you weren't specially dressing up for the Henry's, you still didn't want to embarrass Elsbeth by being underdressed.
Venetia was lounging in the bed while you paced around the room. "You've already worn that dress," she said, making you huff. "I know," you whispered. "We can get something from my closet," she said as she stood up from the bed and made her way to you. "Or we can ask mum. Don't worry," she added with a smile.
₊˚⊹
The dinner was kind of dull, the Henry to your left not nearly as entertaining as the one to Venetia's left judging by the quick glances she spared you every time one of his jokes fell flat. Every now and then, your attention would sneak over to Farleigh; a pensive look thredded between his furrowed brows when his eyes caught yours.
The highlight of your night was definitely after dinner, when sir Catton had suggested karaoke. You were quite amused by Henry's rendition as the lot of you watched as the man made a fool of himself. Farleigh took a seat next to you on the couch, sparing you a smile.
"You clean up nicely," he smiled, sparing a look down at your dress, the sparkly material reflecting the warm light from the fire. His hand ghosted over the necklace around your neck, fingers tracing over the small pendant. You prayed that he didn't notice the way your breath caught in your throat at the little bit of contact.
"Thanks," you answered, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself." He only scoffed, eyes now focused on your hand as it retracted from his chest. You didn't spare him another look, attention refocusing on Henry's recital.
The whole affair was getting boring, and before you knew it, your thoughts were back to Farleigh, a question on your mind that you've been burning to ask him. "Can I ask you a question?" you turned, asking before you lost your confidence. He raised his eyebrow in interest, urging you to continue. "Why do you hate me?" you asked. The question caught him off guard, rendering him speechless for the first time since you've known him.
"I don't," he started before scoffing, "I don't hate you." You pursed your lips, shaking your head in disagreement. "You do. At least you act like you do." He only smiled, shuffling closer on the couch, face impossibly closer to yours as he gave you a once-over.
Even though the topic was quite loaded, it was ironically the calmest conversation the two of you have had in a long time. It was reminiscent of the time the two of you were younger and still getting to know each other. Somewhere along the line, something shifted, and he started treating you like shit. You only returned the favor.
"You weren't always this mean either," you added. His eyes still examined the expanse of your face; trailing down the slope of your nose and into the dip of your cupids bow. His attention made you feel self-conscious in a way, tongue poking out to wet your lips.
You had no reason to even feel self-conscious, but Farleigh had a special talent for making you feel small in his presence. Somewhere beneath the irritation and resentment hid a feeling that made warmth settle deep in your belly everytime you saw him. It's a feeling you only gave yourself the luxury of experiencing in the dead of the night when your thoughts were all that kept you awake. The overbearing anger would subside and then that funny feeling would settle over your body and deep inside your chest in a near painful way.
You never called it by it's name, too scared that if you did it would manifest itself and become reality. But now as the two of you sat on the couch, the cheering and singing fading into background noise as a pair of deep brown eyes stared into yours, you finally had to courage to admit it to yourself.
"I don't hate you," he repeated one more time, voice slightly breathless and a sullen look on his face. "On the contrary, actually." That made you laugh almost too loudly. "So what," you scoffed, "you act like a teenage boy and pick on me because you had a crush on me?"
He shrugged, the motion causing the refined material of his suit to rub against your arm. "Maybe I just wanted your attention," he smiled, placing a brief kiss to your cheek before briskly getting up from the couch to cut Henry's musical number short. You uncleanched your balled fists that were bunching up the expensive material of your dress, the tension leaving your body with a sigh once Farleigh's words register.
#saltburn#farleigh start x reader#farleigh start x you#farleigh x you#farleigh x reader#farleigh start#likedovesinthewindd
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