#please feel free to throw things at me because oh my god the angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toruro · 1 year

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love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited

w/c: 6.7k

a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:

“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”

He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.

You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.

It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”

The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.

After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.

“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”

You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.

“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”

“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”

He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”

You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”

“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”

You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.

When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.

“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”

He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.

“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.

“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.

“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.

“Everything alright?”

Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."

"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."

"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”

You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.

“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.

It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.

The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.

“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.

“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.

“But what if—”

“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.

“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.

“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”

Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.

“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.

“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.

As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.

And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.

Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.

Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.

“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.

“Yes! I assume you are too?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”

“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”

The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”

You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.

“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”

You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”

“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."

Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .

You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.

Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.

Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.

Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!

You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.

“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.

From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.

He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.

“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”

“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”

The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.

Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.

You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?

So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.

The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.

Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.

It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.

“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.

“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”

He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”

“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”

“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.

“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.

“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.

“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.

“But I wanna play Mommy!”

“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”

He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.

“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.

“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.

Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.

The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.

His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.

It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.

As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.

You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”

He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.

Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.

“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”

“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.

It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.

“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.

He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”

You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”

Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.

“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.

“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.

“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”

You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”

“You aren’t bothering me.”

“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”

“You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.

“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"

You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.

Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.

And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.

He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.

Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.

“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.

a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

pt.2

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #📝 writing

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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Combat Baby

Dead Disco Masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.7k words 18+ Minors DNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Feelings of fear, sadness and anxiety. Discussions of blood and injury. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals. Comfort and fluff. Angst. Established throuple. You get a phone call in the middle of the night. This takes place sometime before Chapter 1 of Dead Disco. It can be read as a standalone.

It’s the middle of the night when the phone rings. It vibrates against the nightstand, the rattle slowly bringing you to consciousness and you blink a few times to shake free the fog of sleep.

The screen displays a blocked number.

Your stomach becomes a pit.

“Hello?” A British man says your name on the other line, the accent different from Simon’s, but still heavy, still thick. You don’t recognize it, and that lone fact has you sitting straight up.

“Yes?”

“This is Captain Price. I’m the commanding officer of the 141 and on scene at St George’s hospital.” Your body jolts, heart stopping dead in your chest. Oh no, god no please. Don’t let them be dead, don’t- “Ma’am?”

“I-I’m here.” You half swallow the words to try to prevent the panic from spilling out of your mouth.

“Soap asked me to call ya, see if you could come down here.”

“What’s going on? Is he okay? Where’s Si-“

“I can’t tell you anything else, just that he wants you to come down.” Your fingers fly onto a web browser to look up the hospital, a tiny sliver of relief twisting in your gut when you see it’s not incredibly far away. Not close, but doable with a few trains. The sleep that has been trying to spring free has completely evaporated, leaving your eyes wide and pulse racing, fear rapidly spreading through your veins while your mind conjures every single worst case scenario it could come up with. “Okay?” The captain’s voice is gentler now, encouraging, and you nod in the dark.

“Okay… y-yeah. I’m on my way.”

The hospital is bright. When you run through the lobby doors, it’s the first thing you notice. The walls are white, too white, and well lit, illuminating everything, every person in the giant room. You search their faces hurriedly, throat tight with worry while you decide that none of them are Johnny or Simon, and you practically throw yourself at the front desk.

“Hi, uh, I’m looking. I’m looking for my partner? He’s-“ A British accent calls your name and you whirl to see a man in uniform standing behind you, his hand waving the receptionist off and gesturing for you to follow him through a set of double doors.

“I’m Captain Price, we spoke on the phone.” Of course.

“Yeah, where’s Johnny? And Simon?” You blow past his pleasantries because you honestly don’t care. You want to see your guys. You want to know what’s going on, and you want to know right now. The captain considers you thoughtfully for a moment, a short second that feels like an hour, before another set of doors is banging open to reveal-

“Darling.” It’s Johnny. Johnny’s here. Johnny’s standing a few feet in front of you with his arms open. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant stain on the front. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant red stain on the front.

You launch yourself into him without a second through, without a care about anyone watching, and press your face into his neck to take a deep breath.

“Are you okay? Where is Si? Is he okay?” You babble, pulling away to get a better look at his face. He looks exhausted, and weary, and sad and you want to fold him into you again and never let go. Johnny is strong, he’s so strong even when he doesn’t want to be and right now, you can tell, he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be in command, doesn’t want to hold everything up. Guilt burns into your brain when you realize it’s for you, the strength is for you, even though he’s off balance, off kilter, he’s holding it together in this moment for you. “Johnny.” It’s a whisper, soft and raw, and he brings you back into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around your body and holding you to him while he presses his nose into your hair, shuddering a barely contained exhale. You hold him back, desperate to wrap your arms around him, stroking a hand up and down his spine slowly while you take deep, measured breaths. You bite your tongue against the overflowing bounty of questions you have, pausing to just be here, in his arms, his face buried in your neck. You try not to push him, try not to force it out of him. He’ll tell you, you know he will. He speaks every love language that exists between the three of you, communicates clearly when your head is a mess and your thoughts are all jumbled, sees you when you’re lost and pulls you back to shore. He makes Simon tea at one in the morning when he can’t sleep, he forces you to put your sneakers on and then pushes you out the door in the middle of the day so you can enjoy the sunshine. He gives you more than you could ever give back, and this moment is a dark, glaring reminder of that fact.

He pulls away, giving someone a nod, you assume the captain, and leads you over to where a group of chairs sit.

“Where is he?” You haven’t let go of him, gripping on like he’s your lifeline, and he lowers you into a chair before sitting down in the one next to you.

“He’s in surgery.”

“Okay. Is he going to be okay?”

“Love.” You slam your eyes shut. No no no. “The doctor thinks there is a good chance he’s completely fine, but it was a very serious…” he pauses, and you know it’s because he’s trying to choose the right words “injury, and he had to go into surgery right away. He wasn’t conscious.”

“A good chance.” You repeat it and he nods. A good chance. You try to fight the emotion that wells up inside your heart, but it’s no use, and you’re choking out a sob within a second, Johnny nestling you back into him, palm rubbing up and down your back.

“Shhh. Everything’s alright now. Ye know he’s a strong bastard.” You bob your head in a halfhearted nod, but it’s hard to keep yourself afloat when you think about Simon alone in an operating room, with “a good chance.” Your lungs suddenly feel tight, the air in the room becoming a flimsy, feeble thing you’re not even sure exists. A good chance. A good chance? That’s… a chance. A chance he will be okay. A chance he will live. Not a given. Not even the starting point, just a chance, a good- “Darling.” Johnny’s fingers pull your chin upwards, until he’s forcing you to look at him, a warm palm moving to cradle your face when he’s satisfied he’s got your full attention. “I need you here, with me. Stay with me.” He doesn’t need to say anything else; you know. You know what he’s asking. You know he’s coaxing you to stay present, to not go down a long dark path, to keep yourself with him, and not below the cresting waves of your own heart, your own brain.

You swallow the saliva that’s building in the corner of your cheek and squeeze his hand. You can do it. You can do it for him. For Simon. For them. For all of you.

“Hard to kill right? Like you’re always saying at home?” The whisper brings a glimpse of a smile to Johnny’s face.

“Thas’ right, love.”

You wait for a long time. Johnny holds you, and you alternate between rubbing his shoulders and clutching his hand, your anxiety turning you restless as you shift relentlessly in the uncomfortable chairs. He slowly starts to tell you what he can about what happened, how Simon got separated from the team he was with, how he ended up outnumbered in an impossible situation, how he fought like hell and won. He recounts how he heard Simon calling for him over the radio in a moment of desperation, a pure loss of control, a last-ditch effort to hear his voice, and vice versa. He tells you that Simon made him promise in the helicopter to call you, as soon as they landed, because he wanted to see your face before he went in for surgery. He knew you’d be scared if Kyle or Price was the one to wake you up, and he didn’t want that.

“He was still… talking, in the helicopter. I didn’t think… he was in that bad of shape, on the way. I think he was bleeding. Internally. And that’s why he faded out when we got here.” You nod, tracing a pattern of dirt on Johnny’s forearm methodically, timing it’s ups and downs with your own breathing. “Everything changed so fast. I’m sorry I had Price call. There was paperwork and they needed it as soon as possible and I didn’t want to wait to get ya here, I didn’t do as he asked but I-“ His voice chokes to a stop abruptly, and there’s a tear, on his cheek. Just the hint of one, shining beneath the awful ceiling lights of the hospital and you press your lips to it, trying to keep them from trembling against his skin.

“It’s okay, Johnny. It’s okay.” You’re about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t let Simon down, that everything is alright, when a doctor in a white coat comes through the doors with a smile on her face, her long legs carrying her over to stand before the two of in a blink.

She’s smiling. The chance was good. It’s good. He’s good.

“Mr. Riley?” She says, and you choke on a surprised gasp before you look to Johnny with a raised eyebrow. Uh… what? He pats your thigh affectionately before nodding and pulling you to your feet alongside him.

“Yes, is he okay?” He spits, over eager, anxious and rushed to hear whatever it is she has to say. He too, has no time for pleasantries.

“Your husband is out of surgery and stable. He should make a full recovery. We’ll go over discharge instructions and he’ll be here for a few days until I’m comfortable with his progress on antibiotics but, he’s in good shape.” Your husband. You bury the word deep, covering it with a whole mountain of other thoughts before you dwell on it. They would have told you, right? They wouldn’t have gotten married without you, would they? On a mission? The notion makes you feel nauseas, and then the guilt swallows you whole. Get a fucking grip. Simon is hurt.

“When can we see him?” You blurt.

“He’s still in post op right now, but I can bring you to his room to wait for when he’s settled in, how does that sound? He’ll probably be asleep for a while, but you can be there while you wait for him to wake up.”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Johnny wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses his lips to your temple with a fierce intensity. “Thank you, so much.” She gives the two of you a smile before leading you down the hall, and Johnny holds you close to him the entire time.

Simon’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

He looks too big in the bed. His shoulders stretch the width of the mattress, his hospital gown not even snapped closed, just draped over his torso, covering the white bandages are wrapped around his ribs. You stroke the side of his cheek, fingers tracing along his jaw line gently, pushing some strands of dirty blonde hair from his face while you whisper lowly.

“We’re here, Si. We’re right here. Everything’s okay.” You’ve been trying not to watch the clock, trying not to count the minutes, over eager and impatient for Simon to wake up and finally open his eyes. You want to see him, blinking, breathing, speaking, before you finally feel at peace, and you can’t stand to see him unconscious, immobile, in a bed. He’d hate it. You know it, you know he’d hate it if he was awake, know he’s going to hate it, when he does wake, and you’re anxious to soothe him, even in his sleep. Anxious to lay your ear against his heart and count the heavy thumps of the muscle, eager to wrap yourself around him so he knows you’re here. You’re anxious to see his wry smile, see the flutter of his lashes, hear his voice. He’s so beautiful, so… unearthly to you that sometimes when you look at him you think you might be in a dream yourself. He’s your rock, your immovable force that never falters, never fails you, or Johnny. Holds you both steady. He looks so peaceful, so serene in this moment, even though you know in his mind, it’s far from the reality, and you hope he’s not dreaming in hell, experiencing his nightmares trapped in sedation. We’re here, I’m here. It’s okay.

On the other hand, you’re not eager to wake Johnny, who’s asleep in the chair opposite you, Simon’s hand clutched in his, his head sideways on the bed next to Simon’s thigh, mouth open with a slow drip of drool pooling from it. He’s exhausted. Hasn’t sleep in 29 hours and he stayed awake for four hours after Simon was brought back to the room, trying for as long as he could until he just couldn’t keep his head up anymore. He needs rest. Your heart flutters when you look at him, the scruff of his mohawk laying against the white blanket wrapped around Simon’s leg, his features blank as he drifts in a dreamworld far away. He’s so sweet, so perfect that it makes your heart hurt, like someone’s emptied ice into your chest cavity and you can’t help but reach across and stroke a thumb across his knuckles in time with your other against Simon’s cheek.

An hour later, Simon’s hand spasms, and you watch his eyelids start to twitch, body tensing in the bed as both you and Johnny jump to your feet so you can see his face.

“Simon? Hey.” You stroke your fingers along the inside of his palm gently, trying to ease him into consciousness, while Johnny hovers closer, knuckles white against the rail, his free hand on Si’s shoulder, the touch gentle and reassuring. Simon slurs your name, then Johnny’s, then Johnny’s again before groaning:

“Darling.”

“We’re here.” You rush out, the swell of your emotions rising up the back of your throat while you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Right here.”

“Are you in pain?” Johnny asks, but he’s already pushed the button, and you both step back when the nurse comes in so she can give him pain meds and check the monitors. When she’s finished, the two of you surge forward, retaking your places and you finally get to see that crescent moon smile on his lips, the ghost of his happiness surfacing from beneath everything else going on, the pain, the trauma, the sedation.

“You’re here.” He whispers, eyes moving between the two of you. Johnny lowers himself to touch his forehead to Simon’s, before tracing the lightest kiss across his lips.

“Of course, we are, ya mad bastard. Don’t ever fuckin’ do that again.” He says and Simon grunts, hand shooting out to grab his with a squeeze while his other palm presses to your cheek. You hold it there with one of your own hands, tears dripping from your eyes while his thumb strokes back and forth across your skin.

“’m sorry I scared ya.” He grits out and you break into a soft, relieved smile.

“Don’t be. We’re just so happy you’re okay.”

“I’m alright, darling. Can’t be leavin’ you two alone anytime soon.” His eyes droop, lids trying to shut and you know the pain medicine is pulling him back under, where he can sleep and heal until it’s time to wake again. He fights it, but it’s a losing battle.

“It’s alright, Si.” You soothe him. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be here while you rest.”

“Y’promise?” He sounds a little spacey, a little loopy, and Johnny smiles while you stroke his hair in a rhythmic pattern, just how he likes at home.

“We promise.”

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daechwitatamic · 11 months

Text

4. Perilune || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 4: Perilune

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, confessions, drinking, angst, facetime sex lol bye, vibrator use (f), dirty talk, kissing, lightly dom!jin, fingering, reader takes it from behind, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), sweet aftercare

WC: 9k

Part 4: Perilune

Perilune: (noun) the point of an elliptical lunar orbit where the satellite and the Moon are the closest

“What… is going on here?” Minji asks, eyes wide, voice trembling.

Seokjin, secret genius, reaches out an arm to welcome her into the hug. “Y/N is upset,” he says easily, like this is a perfectly natural thing. “Come help.”

Minji’s eyes narrow, but she shuffles into the hug, wrapping one arm around each of you. “But,” she ventures after a minute, “why are you upset?”

You shake yourself free of the hug, wipe at your face roughly with both hands. You consider your options. You consider that Seokjin is willing to forgo the easy option, to wrestle with a tough reality for you.

You owe him the same.

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when he flies home again,” you say, as honest as you can be. “And I’m scared I’ll lose him again. And I hate that it isn’t easier.”

Minji looks back and forth between you silently. “Are you….?” she manages, and the question is pointed more at Seokjin than you, so he answers.

“We’re together,” he says simply.

The shock flies to her face almost instantly, but all you feel is resignation. You’re already emotionally spent today; this might as well happen.

“For how long?” she demands. “When did this start?”

You look at him. “Technically, like four days ago,” you answer, deciding to omit the New Year’s Eve debacle. For now.

Her eyes narrow again. “You didn’t tell me.” The accusation falls at your feet, but you’re glad to accept it.

“We were…” You trail off, meeting Seokjin’s eyes over her head. “We were trying to feel it out before we told anybody.”

“Hmph,” Minji sniffs, arms crossed, frown pronounced. “I’m not anybody. I’m your best friend.”

“I know,” you whisper. “But it felt… complicated. Considering. You don’t… hate this? Would you… are you okay with this?”

Minji huffs out a laugh, the same way Seokjin does when he thinks you’ve said something ridiculous. “Please,” she says, reaching back to elbow her brother in the ribs. “You two have been stupid for each other since we were teenagers. It’s honestly about time.”

It feels too good to be true. Seokjin smiles, grabbing her arm and wiggling it around affectionately. “Look how mature you are,” he coos. “Look at my mature, smart, lovely, wonderful sister.”

“Get off me,” she snaps, but there’s no bite behind it. “God, you two loons.”

Later, when you’re back home, alone, trying to process everything that had happened, your phone lights up.

[11:57 PM] Minji 💗: OH MY GOD [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: THIS MEANS [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: YOU GOT THE GOOD DICK GLOW [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: FROM MY BROTHER???????///??????????? [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: I WILL THROW UP I WILL THROW UP RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:03 AM] Jin 😎: well now that the cat’s out of the bag… can i take you on a date before i go?

–

You tell Jin yes, but the next night isn’t spent with him. Instead, you show up after dinner to Minji’s apartment holding a fresh stalk of celery with a cheery bow slapped on the packaging. It’s stupid - ridiculous, really - but it’s a you and Minji thing dating all the way back to middle school and you think she’ll laugh.

You’re right; as soon as she processes the nonsense she’s looking at, she bursts into laughter.

“Damn,” she cackles, backing up to let you into the apartment. “You must be feeling guilty. You bypassed show up with beer and went straight to celery!”

“Please accept this token of my deepest regrets and most sincere apologies,” you deadpan, pushing the stalks into her hands. Still laughing, she heads into her tiny kitchen to find a spot for them in the fridge. You perch on the arm of her couch, waiting for her to come talk to you.

She’s shaking her head at you when she returns, flopping on her couch and staring up at you. “You really didn’t need to,” she says, still smiling.

You twist your mouth at her. “I’ve known you for a long time,” you say gently. “I know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t tell you.”

She looks away and shrugs. For a second you think she’s going to lie, but then she juts out her jaw the way she does when she’s feeling defensive and she says, “I guess. I understood, though. I mean, I get why you didn’t.”

You run your toes along a pattern on her rug. “It’s weird because… I don’t know what’s okay to tell you?”

She cocks her head, not fully understanding.

You try again. “I mean… I don’t want to not tell you stuff… but obviously there will be things that you don’t want to hear.”

“Ah,” she says, understanding, starting to nod. “Well… how about you give me some warning if anyone’s gonna get naked.”

“A safe word,” you suggest, only partly joking.

“Pineapple,” she says sagely. “If there are naked parts, warn me with pineapple.”

You laugh. “Okay,” you agree. “So should I? Tell you all of it?”

“Start at the beginning,” she directs.

“The beginning.” You laugh again. The beginning was so long ago, before you even understood it. “Well, I think I’ve been in love with him since –”

“Since forever.”

“How come you knew, but he didn’t?” you ask, exasperated. Had everyone known but you and him?

“Seokjin is an idiot,” she says simply, crossing her arms behind her head and getting comfortable. “Tell me the rest.”

You sink onto the couch opposite her, hugging your knees to your chest. “We had a lot of moments over the years,” you admit, “where I really… wondered. You know?”

“You were the only one wondering,” she says with a smile. “He’s always… made space for you, broke his own rules for you. Jungkook and I used to joke about it. He was always nicer to you than to us.”

You take this in, letting it soak into your heart like sunlight on your skin. You can feel the truth of it, can recognize that some part of you must have known this all along.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I guess it was like that, from the outside. I just… never knew what it meant. It was hard to see it clearly, from too close.”

Minji reaches over and squeezes your hand briefly, encouraging. “So, when did things start-start? Like really start?”

“Well,” you say tentatively, “two years ago, when you had that New Year’s Eve party? We, uh… shared a pineapple that night.”

Minji blinks at you, and you watch the moment it processes. Her eyes go wide, lips curling a bit in revulsion. “You what? How long ago? At my dad’s house?”

You cover your face with your hands, peeking at her between fingers. “Yeah.”

She exhales, nearly a whisper. “Two years ago?” she repeats, disbelieving. Now, a bit of hurt does creep into her voice as she adds, “That’s a long time to keep a secret.”

“I would have told you, I swear,” you hurry to say. “But he… kind of vanished the next day. Got on the plane and left and literally never talked to me about it again.”

“God, he’s an incurable fucking idiot,” Minji mutters, mostly to herself, it seems.

“We worked it out,” you explain. “Recently. But yeah… I was embarrassed. And hurt, to be honest. I just didn’t want to have to admit any of it. I think saying it out loud to you - to anyone - would have killed me. I wanted to just… pretend it didn’t happen.”

She groans in mock agony, throwing her head back and flopping dramatically, like your own stupidity is causing her great pain.

“I know,” you say, apologetic despite her dramatics. “The whole thing is ridiculous.”

“So?” she says, pulling herself together and scooting to sit back up. “What’s happening now? You’ve… had pineapples again, since he came home for Dad’s surgery?”

You feel your face burn like it’s caught fire before you can even answer and she starts shrieking and laughing, reaching to whack your legs with a throw pillow.

“Never mind!” she cries. “I got my answer, don’t tell me anything else! My actual question is - what happens next?”

You shrug, your stomach sinking. “I’m not sure,” you say. “He… told me he loves me?”

Minji squeals, the noise echoing to her lofted ceilings and back, her feet kicking.

“But,” you add, “he’s flying home in a few days…”

“What?” Minji squawks indignantly, sitting all the way up to face you. “So you’ll just let it die again? I physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually cannot watch you idiots drag this out for another two years.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a little laugh, even though you suddenly feel a bit like crying. “I obviously don’t want that either. He said we’ll talk about it when it’s time.”

She sighs heavily. “Don’t leave it up to him,” she instructs. “He’s so dumb, like my god is he dumb. I have faith in you. Handle it.”

“Okay, bossy,” you say, poking her leg with your foot. “I promise to do my best.”

She nods, satisfied. “You better,” she threatens, and then heads to the kitchen to munch on the celery you’d brought her.

–

Seokjin’s last day comes too quickly. You’ve been dreading it for days. You remember all the other times he’s left before - for college, then when he moved, and on New Year’s Day after sleeping with you for the first time. You had spent all of those days at your parents’ house, watching across the street as cars were loaded, or assessing the empty place in the driveway.

It makes it suck less that this time, you’re in your own apartment, and Seokjin is with you, telling you goodbye instead of vanishing in silence.

“Don’t be so sad,” he tells you sweetly. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“No we won’t,” you grumble, pouting.

Days ago, you’d curled into his side, clutching the fabric of his white t-shirt between desperate fingers. The cotton had felt like an anchor.

“Jin?” you’d asked, and he’d looked down at you from his phone, where a game waited for his input.

“Hm?”

“It’s like… three days left.”

“Yeah,” he’d said slowly, like he wasn’t sure where you were going with this. But of course he did - what else could be weighing on your mind? Why else would you bring it up?

“We said we’d decide what to do when it was closer,” you reminded him. “It’s closer.”

“It is,” he agreed easily, turning his phone screen off and shifting to give you his full attention. “And?”

You couldn’t stand it, suddenly, his teasing.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, reproachfully.

“What?” he asked innocently, bumping your nose with his. He was smiling, like he thought your distress was a little funny.

“Jin,” you whined. “I’m being serious! We need to talk about it!”

“So let’s talk about it!” he had laughed. Then, watching your face, he’d grown serious. He’d brushed his fingers along your jaw, pressed a kiss to the scrunch between your eyebrows. “I’m listening,” he promised.

“When you go home…” you’d said quietly, “I don’t want this to end. I know we said long distance is awful, but…” You trailed off.

“But what’s the alternative?” he finished the thought for you. “I don’t want this to be over, either.”

“So,” you’d said slowly, hope daring to blossom behind your ribcage, “we’ll try?”

He had nodded seriously, eyes far away as he considered this option. “It won’t be fun, and it won’t be easy,” he’d warned. “But, yeah… I’d like to try. I don’t want to throw this away again.”

As he double-checks his luggage in the doorway of your apartment, he sends you a rueful smile and says your name disarmingly.

“What?” you grumble.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he repeats indulgently.

“Soon,” you scoff. “Like, what? Christmas?”

He comes to you then, wrapping his arms around your angry shoulders. “Listen,” he says, his dulcet voice soothing you, “My goal is to find a way to be with you. I’m going to go back and do whatever I can to make that happen. Okay?”

“A man with a plan,” you murmur, softening with his reassurances.

“A man who’s done losing time,” he says solemnly.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you where you have the chance to kiss him goodbye.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you with hope that he’ll return and help you build something better.

–

You and Jin talk on the phone every day that he’s gone. It sucks to be far apart, sure, but somehow this is still better than before - at least now you’re talking, a ton, giggling and flirting openly like you’ve never been able to before.

At least now you can tell him you love him before hanging up, instead of pretending you don’t, instead of denying it, lying about it, trying to imagine a life where it isn’t your biggest truth.

Almost a week passes before Jin tells you, ceremoniously, “I… have news.”

“Ooh,” you say. “I’m listening.”

He smiles at you lazily through the screen; you’re each in bed, chatting before saying goodnight. “Don’t get too excited,” he warns you. “It’s good news, but it’s not ideal news.”

“I will temper my expectations,” you promise.

“I requested to transfer,” he tells you. “I put in the request the day I came back.”

You smile, feeling warm and grateful, feeling full of love and appreciation. “And?”

“It’s not perfect,” he warns you again. “I did get approved, but -“

You squeal.

“But,” he continues over you, “they want me to work down a 90-day notice and help train someone to take my place here. And the transfer location isn’t in town, it’s in the city.”

You stay silent, thinking about this.

“So,” you clarify slowly, “we have to wait three months, but then you’ll be here?”

“Not there-there,” he points out. “An hour away.”

“It’s better than now,” you point out. “Even if I only see you on weekends, it’s better than now.”

“It’ll be more than that,” he says. “That’s the absolute worst case scenario. Okay?”

“Okay,” you say, minimizing the call to pull up your calendar. “Ninety days starting… today?”

“Tomorrow is day one,” he tells you warmly. You click the date on your calendar - a Thursday in early September - and mark it Jin transfers.

“Can’t wait,” you say, opening the call again. “When are we gonna apartment hunt?”

He laughs. “I’ve already got Minji on it.”

You lay awake long after you hang up, daydreaming of ninety days from now, when Seokjin will be just an hour away, close enough to drive to, close enough to touch.

—

“How was your day, beautiful?” Jin greets you before the connection loads his video, his voice finding you before his face does. It’s been about a month and a half of the long-distance thing, and your video call routine is solid.

You roll on your side, holding your phone so Jin can see your sad little face and a good helping of cleavage from your pajama top. “I don’t know,” you pout. “Okay, I guess.”

“Aigoo,” he croons. “What’s wrong with my favorite girl today?”

You sigh heavily; you’ve dropped the act for the most part, and now you’re letting your actual frustration show. It’s about a month into your relationship, a month into making long distance work.

“I dunno,” you admit. “I think I’m just having a day where I miss you.”

“I’m here,” he says seriously, bringing his phone closer to his face. Disgusting, that you can see him so clearly that you can make out the affection in his gaze, and yet he’s still hundreds of miles away.

“I know,” you say. “But I guess I miss… the physical stuff.”

He grins wolfishly before you’re even done with the word “physical”, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

You laugh - you can’t help it. “I meant like… I could use a hug. But… yeah, that too, now that you mention it. A little stress relief would be nice.”

Jin shifts on your screen. “Hm,” he says tightly, voice suddenly different enough that it brings your attention to him sharply. “Well, how would you have handled that - before me?”

You feel yourself flush. “Jin,” you scold. “Don’t tease me.”

“As much as I do love to see you get flustered,” he admits, “I am very serious right now.”

How did you miss his expression darkening? Suddenly, his brows are starting to furrow, his eyes narrowed just slightly with intent focus. His voice touches on dangerous.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, words all mumbled through your embarrassment.

“If you can’t tell me, maybe you should just show me,” he suggests, that edge to his voice singing like the freshly forged metal of a gleaming sword.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, still mostly mortified. Only a little turned on. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My normal way, is, uh… with some battery-powered assistance.”

You can’t even look at him.

“Why are you being shy about it?” he asks. “That’s hot. I wanna see - wanna see what you do. Wanna see you come undone.”

You almost gasp, and he makes the mistake of letting his breath out just a touch too loudly, shifting just a bit too suspiciously.

“Are you-?”

“Of fucking course I am,” he huffs, and now it’s obvious that he’s got his hand around his dick - the scrunch of his brows, his teeth on his bottom lip. “Come on, don’t let me party alone.”

“You’re such a dork.” Despite the insult, your thighs are rubbing together as if of their own volition, and you sneak your hand down to press against your core just once for relief.

“You’d forget all about that if I had my hands on you instead,” he asserts, voice low. “I’d like to see you call me names when I’m up to my knuckles in your -”

“Jin!”

“Am I wrong?” he smirks. You can tell by the way the phone shakes just so that he’s still stroking himself, slowly.

You have no answer to that.

“Come on,” he urges. “Let me see. I’m so hard.”

Your breath whooshes from you as he admits this. You’d never done this before - with anyone, not on video. It feels scary, but definitely fun. And, of course, you trust Jin implicitly. You know this will stay between you two.

“Take your shirt off,” you murmur, and the speed at which he obeys would be comical if you weren’t wet to the point of discomfort.

“You too,” he begs, voice going whiney for just a second. You hesitate, still a little shy, but finally you pull the material over your head, dropping it on the empty side of the bed for later. You roll sideways, placing your arm strategically to prop your tits up a bit.

“Now bottoms,” he instructs, half breathless. You’re slow to comply, eyes taking in the skin he’s revealed on-screen - tanned shoulders, pecs, dusky nipples, his flat tummy. Eventually you tear your eyes away enough to shimmy out of your pajama bottoms and panties, looking back at him expectantly.

Seokjin angles the camera down for a minute, displaying the way he’s got his fist around the base of his cock, holding it upright and proud for you. “See what you did?” he grunts, hand sliding up and squeezing the head before taking its place at the bottom again.

“You’ve got crimes to answer for, too,” you tease.

“Show me,” he says, the words tumbling from him. He shifts the camera back to focus on his face. “Please, baby, let me see you.”

It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to bend your leg and prop your phone up, reaching to keep one finger on the top to steady it. You try not to look at your own body on the screen, focusing instead on how Seokjin’s eyes go heavy-lidded as he takes you in, how his breath hitches when you slide your middle finger between your folds and swirl it around in the gathered slickness you find there.

He swears fiercely, and you almost laugh. It makes you warmer, wetter, knowing you can affect him like this.

“Spread them,” he commands, and you feel yourself clench at the words.

“Really?” you ask, though you know he means it. You just want to buy time, the feeling of being exposed new and a little frightening.

“Wanna see,” he repeats, lips barely moving to form the words.

Finally, you muster the courage and do as he asked with your thumb and forefinger, listening to the slick sound of his hand on his cock, the way his exhales carry the barest touch of a groan.

“Happy?” you ask after a minute of his huffed breaths, bringing the phone back up towards your face and unbending your leg.

“Won’t be happy until you come,” he mutters. “Show me what you do. Please?”

“Is that what you want?” you ask, feeling a little breathless. “Just do what I normally do and let you listen?”

“And watch,” he breathes.

You roll to dig through your nightstand drawer, coming out with a low-key but trusty bullet. When you click it on, Seokjin’s eyes fly to yours through the screen.

You follow his direction, tilting the camera so he can watch you slide it, on its lowest setting, over your entrance and up to your clit. You retrace this path three more times, slowly, lightly, your body warming up by degrees. When you finally settle it firmly over your clit and leave it, you can’t help the low, rolling moan you let out.

“That’s right,” Jin whispers. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Not as good as you would,” you admit with a little laugh.

“Soon,” he promises. And then, “What would you want me to do?”

“God,” you utter, pressing the bullet tighter against your clit. “Anything - your fingers, your mouth - want you inside me.”

He can’t even answer you, eyes sliding closed for a second as he loses himself in your words, in the picture they play in his head, in the memories of you that they unravel.

“I- I’m getting close,” you warn him, the pulsing starting in gentle, easy waves, a warning sign.

He answers with a groan, and you click the bullet to a higher setting, letting your head fall back and your eyes drift closed as you lose yourself in the vibrations. The call is filled with the sound of steady buzzing, the slick skin-on-skin sound of Seokjin’s hand, both of your gasped and haggard breathing, punctuated by low groans and the occasional whine.

You grit his name between your teeth when you teeter closer.

“Let go,” he commands, his voice rumbling deeper than you’ve ever heard it. It’s a stark contrast to the higher-pitched whine he lets out when you do, a wordless wail sailing between your lips as your legs shake and your whole body tightens. He comes with a cry before you’ve even caught your breath, quiet and stillness finally settling over you both as you click off your bullet and toss it sideways on your bed to clean off later.

He smiles beatifically, some of his hair stuck to his forehead. “That was fun,” he says, leaning to reach for something, you assume to clean himself off with. “You feel better?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly, legs still twitching a little. “But not as good as I could. Not as good as if you were here.”

“Soon,” he promises again, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. “I promise. I’ll be with you soon.”

–

[9:28 AM] You: good morningggg [12:03 PM] You: wow, busy today huh? hope it’s a good busy and not a shitty busy 😘 [5:02 PM] You: heading home! call me if you get a second? [10:41 PM] You: ok well i’m going to bed… talk tmrw maybe. Goodnight.

You sleep fitfully, filled with unease and disappointment. Your phone’s vibrations wake you close to midnight. You answer it without checking the screen.

“Mm’lo?” you manage, eyes still closed.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” Seokjin blurts through the line. “I literally just got home.”

Your mind, still mostly asleep, is muddy. “Hmm,” you breathe, trying to process, trying to make coherent words. “It’s so late.”

“I know,” he says sorrowfully. “I was running in circles all day, I legitimately don’t think I’ve peed since morning.”

You let another breath that’s kind of like a sigh. “That’s not healthy,” you murmur.

He laughs a little. “Tell me about it. Anyway, I’m sorry I was MIA all day. I hope you didn’t worry.”

“I didn’t worry,” you tell him, starting to wake up a little. “I knew you were working. Missed you, though.”

“I missed you, too.”

“You were too busy to miss me.”

He laughs again. “Well, I miss you now.” Then, almost to himself, “The moon’s pretty tonight. Looks almost full.”

You shimmy to the edge of your bed, where you can peek through your sheer curtains. The moon is very full, visible just above rooftops across the street.

“I see it,” you tell him sleepily. It gives you a sense of peace that, although you’re far away, although you really failed as a couple at communication today, at least you can share this - the pure white moonlight, the darkened mares barely visible.

You both go silent for a few minutes, and you keep your eyes on the moon.

“Hey,” Seokjin says softly. “I know today sucked. It won’t always be like this, okay? One more month - not even a whole month - and we won’t ever have days like this again.”

“Yeah,” you say, a little unconvinced.

“We won’t,” he assures you. “I’ll make sure of it. You’ll be sick of me in no time.”

“Can’t wait,” you tell him with a yawn, finally scooting back into the warm spot you’d vacated, ready for sleep to find you again.

–

Seokjin’s new apartment - a fifty-three minute drive from your own, you timed it - is admittedly really nice. Nicer than your “swanky” one.

“God, this kitchen,” you marvel after dropping a box of his cutting boards and mixing bowls onto the kitchen counter. “It’s almost enough to make me want to learn to cook more.”

He laughs. “I think I told the agent yes based on this room alone.”

Most of the big furniture pieces were brought up by the moving company Jin had hired, so you help him unload the rest of the boxes from his car and you both look around, trying to determine the best place to start.

“I’m going to find my sheet sets and set up my bed,” he decides, eyes scanning the many boxes. “That way when we tire ourselves out, it’s ready to go. Can you… maybe find the bag with all my toiletries and get that stuff in the bathroom?”

“Aye-aye, captain!” you chirp, starting to wade into the sea of cardboard, but Seokjin tugs you back gently by your shirt’s hem.

“What?” you ask him, a little giggly.

“What are you so happy about?” he teases, pulling you close and resting his mouth near your temple, not quite a kiss.

You shrug, wrapping your arms around his middle and welcoming the hug. You never want to go three months without him ever again.

“Just…” you say, trailing off to think. “Just happy that you’re here.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “This is better, right?”

“Couldn’t hug you before,” you agree.

His smile goes sideways. “Lots of things we couldn’t do before.”

You laugh, pushing him away playfully. “Can’t do that until you set the bed up!”

“That is simply untrue,” he points out, even as he heads towards a box clearly labeled linens/blankets/pillows. “You just lost creativity points.”

You roll your eyes, unable to do anything about the grin on your face, and get to work searching for his shampoo.

Later, after you finished the bathroom and started putting laundry away and after Jin spent a solid two hours hooking up all his consoles and messing with the wiring, you lay sideways across his newly made bed, feeling like the bones have melted out of your body.

“Unpacking is exhausting,” you complain. “I was going to drive home tonight so I could sleep later in the morning, but I don’t think I can.”

“Good,” Jin murmurs, sounding half-asleep himself. He rolls and throws an arm heavily over your middle, tugs you closer. “Stay here with me. Stay all night.”

I think… I could stay forever, you think.

–

[10:06 AM] You: morning 😘 today’s gonna be a really rough day at work for me so don’t worry if you dont hear from me until late, ok? [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: yeah i remembered. good luck, you’ve got this! [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: I’ll see you tonight at my place right? [10:07 AM] You: yes - the only thing getting me through the dayyy

By the time you stagger to your car, it’s been dark for hours. Your feet are throbbing in pain, your back feels like you wrestled an elephant, and you’re so tired you almost consider a nap in the backseat.

And then you remember - you’re supposed to drive the hour to Jin’s place tonight. In the six months Jin has been in his new place, you’ve taken turns every few nights making the trek back and forth. Tonight is your turn.

Or, is supposed to be.

You two had only canceled once before, on a night when a terrible rainstorm swept through and made the roads unsafe. Apart from that, you’d always shown up - or he had.

Guilt, and the desire to see Jin, wage war against your exhaustion until you’re nearly in tears over it. You just don’t know what to do - try and make the drive, or wave the white flag and just go home to a hot shower and, finally, some dinner.

Eventually, you turn on the car and start towards home, calling Jin as you go.

“Well, look who it is,” he greets you warmly.

You sniff in reply. “Jin? I don’t think I’m coming there tonight. I’m really sorry. I’m just - I’m so tired, I feel like it wouldn’t be safe - and I haven’t eaten anything since before work and -”

“Hey,” he interrupts you gently. “It’s fine. Do you want me to come there?”

You glance at the clock on the dashboard. “Honestly,” you say, mournful, “I don’t think it’s worth it. I won’t be awake, and even if I am, I won’t be fun.”

“I don’t care if you’re fun,” he says. You know he means it. But still.

“I”m just gonna go home, eat, shower, and pass out,” you say, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says.

You still cry, quietly, mostly out of frustration, the rest of the way home, even after you’ve hung up. Going home to him would have been exactly what you needed tonight, and it feels deeply unfair that you can’t have that.

You eat first, scarfing down leftovers you pull from your fridge, not even bothering to put on a tv show for noise. You barely even sit down. A hot shower does wonders, and soon you’re collapsing into bed, hardly having the strength to roll over and reach for your charger’s cord. You text Jin another apology and a sweet goodnight, but you’re asleep before he can answer, lost to the dark.

You wake up confused, still engulfed in darkness. It feels like you’ve only been asleep for minutes. You become aware of a noise near the end of your bed and your adrenaline spikes. You sit up, reaching for your phone.

“Don’t mace me,” Jin laughs, coming around the side of the bed and moving the blankets so he can slide in next to you.

You’re frozen, uncomprehending. “Jin?”

“The one and only,” he quips, rolling to cling to your back. “Surprise.”

“I told you not to come!” you splutter.

“Should I leave?” he asks wryly, and you grab his wrist as if he might.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, heart rate starting to calm now that you’ve discovered there isn’t a murderer in your apartment. “God, your feet are like icicles.”

He hums a laugh into your hair, runs a hand down your arm. “Go back to sleep,” he tells you.

You try to listen, scrumping around until you’re comfy again, his body warm and solid behind yours. “Can’t believe you drove here in the middle of the night,” you say finally, a touch of disbelief in your voice. “You’re out of your mind.”

He pulls you tight and then releases you. “Just try and keep me away,” he dares the universe, voice low next to your ear.

You slowly drift back towards sleep, breathing going even and deep. The last thing you remember before you go under is whispering, “Thank you.” To him. Maybe to the universe.

–

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for the second time in less than a year,” Seokjin grumbles from his side of the couch that the two of you are trying - and currently, failing - to get up a stairwell.

“Are you complaining?” you ask, a bit of challenge in your voice. “Are you complaining after your amazing girlfriend found the best apartment, perfectly situated halfway between our jobs, and secured it - all while you were locked into Overwatch? Are you complaining that the living an hour away problem is finally over after an entire year? No more stupid-early commutes, or only seeing each other long enough to sleep - you have complaints?”

“I am complaining,” he asserts, shifting the couch in his hands, “about the physical labor.”

When you get to a good stopping point, hours later, you lean heavily against the kitchen counter. “Should we peruse our new home’s take-out options?” you ask, starting to reach for your phone.

Seokjin doesn’t answer, which causes you to look up and assess why not. When you meet his gaze, he’s got a look in his eyes that you’re starting to know well.

“Seriously?” you ask with a laugh. “You’re not too tired?”

“For you?” he scoffs, moving closer, predatory. “Never.”

“I’m all sweaty…”

“I deeply do not care.”

“I can do approximately zero percent of the work,” you warn him.

He towers over you, hands coming to grip the counter on either side of your body, caging you in. “Wasn’t planning on you doing any work at all,” he admits darkly, mouth close enough to your ear to tickle. “I’m suddenly remembering almost a year ago, when I promised to bend you over the kitchen table someday. And now, we have our own kitchen table, in our brand new place together.”

Your grin turns predatory in turn. “Alright, you convinced me.”

“Good,” he grunts, and grips your jaw gently enough that it doesn’t hurt, firmly enough that he can easily tilt you back to receive his biting, desperate kiss.

You moan immediately, melting back against the counter, thrilled by his urgency. You peel off his shirt, letting it drop onto the hardwood beneath your feet, and yours follows soon after. You lift your arms obediently when Jin tugs at the band of your sports bra, rolling it up and sliding it over your arms. He encases you with his arms, kissing you deeply, and you slide your hands down his stomach as you slide your tongue over his.

It isn’t long before he’s tugging your leggings and panties down in one hand, and you use your feet to free yourself the rest of the way. He’s rough today as he slides his digits between your legs, barely slicking them up before pushing two fingers as far into you as he can, twisting them before pulling them out again.

You breathe his name, clinging to him desperately, hips pushing back against him as he pumps his fingers in and out of you indelicately, causing the last syllable of his name to come out on a whine. You push absently at the waistband of his joggers, too weakly to actually get them anywhere. You make a noise of complaint, and he laughs lowly, punctuating the sound with a particularly vicious flick of the wrist, sending his fingers pistoning into your front wall.

“Jin,” you wail, assaulted by the sudden sensation. “Please, I -”

“Awfully needy for someone who had to be convinced,” he smirks, and if you weren’t halfway to your first orgasm of the night you might have whacked him for it.

But then his fingers are slipping out of you, and he’s pushing his joggers and boxers to the ground and pulling you towards the table, telling you quietly, “C’mere.”

When he said bend you over, he meant bend you over, apparently, because as soon as he has you close enough he’s spinning you to face the table, one palm firmly pushing between your shoulder blades until your front presses against the tabletop.

“This okay?” he murmurs behind you, the same hand that pushed you into place caressing a worshipful pattern back down your ribs, sliding over your ass and resting there, waiting.

“Very,” you groan, and shudder when he answers this by leaning his body over your back, his hands splayed on either side of your ribcage, holding him up.

“In that case,” he says, “arms up. Hold the other side.”

Your breath leaves you audibly and you obey, reaching to grip the opposite side of the table. He strokes the curve of your ass again, and then you feel him run the head of his cock up and down your slit - it sends a white-pleasure shock through you when it rubs firmly over your clit and you try to catch it on your entrance as he slides back up.

You whine again, and he chuckles before finally pushing into you.

You both groan as he bottoms out, yours turning to a gasp as he bumps something deep inside you that makes your entire abdomen flex in response.

“Shit,” you gasp, “you’re so deep this way -”

“Fuck,” he growls, the word torn from his throat as he starts to move. “Why are you so tight, I’m gonna last two minutes like this, damn -”

“Because I’m about three seconds from coming,” you say - or you try to. It comes out more like a moan, your voice shaky and tremulous, betraying you completely.

“Do it then,” he says, gripping your hips with one hand and reaching around to find your clit with another as he keeps a torturously steady pace. “Come all over me.”

His nimble fingers do the trick and it’s only seconds later that you’re following directions, pressing your forehead desperately into the wood of the table as your body trembles and shakes beneath Jin’s hands.

You feel your toes curling against the hardwood floor, feel your fingers go tight against the table’s edge, feel your pussy clench around him again and again and again, feel the sensation of light race down your legs and out to your fingertips, feel Jin’s cock slide against your pulsing walls, feel his hands come to your hips to pull you against each stroke.

You hear your first gasped breath, hear the slap of skin on skin, hear the huffs and groans of Jin’s broken breathing behind you as you slowly come back into your body, as the tremors in your legs die back down to tiny, interspersed shakes.

“Holy shit,” you manage, lifting your head off the table and trying to look at him over your shoulder.

“Can you take more?” he checks, his hand twitching on your hip like he’s keeping it in line.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he whispers, and pulls your hips flush against his, slamming into you, sliding out, slamming in again until you’re keening out syllables that don’t add up to words, eyes screwed shut, exhales warbling out like sobs.

“Take it so well,” he praises, his voice shattered, the words coming through a clenched jaw, as he breathes and focuses and tries to hang on, hips snapping.

He slows his pace and reaches for your shoulder, pulling you to straighten up, your back flush against his sticky chest. You moan at the change of angle, and then he slips out of you, turns you around again and lets you sit on the edge of the table. He reaches one arm around your shoulders to brace you and slides back in slowly.

Your head falls back, eyes closed.

“Can you look at me?” he breathes, chest jumping as he tries to keep it together.

With difficulty, you lift your head and open your eyes, finding his watching you intently. Gazes locked, he pumps once, twice, three more times and comes with a shudder, his head falling onto your shoulder as he spasms and groans deep and loud.

His hips slow and then eventually come to a stop. He stays buried deep inside you, lifting his head from your shoulder and bringing his other arm around your back.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him thickly, your legs shaking.

He slips out of you gently, reaching down to wipe away a bit of mess that followed onto your thigh. “Don’t walk, then,” he tells you, and guides your arms around his neck before lifting you and carrying you through your new apartment towards the en suite.

He sets you gently on the edge of the tub and reaches to turn the shower on full blast. “Did we find towels?” he asks.

You lean against the tiled wall. “The box is on the bed.”

“Okay,” he says, then crouches down before you. “You good?”

“Mhm,” you tell him. He retreats, and you hear the telltale sign of tape being ripped off cardboard. He returns with two towels in hand and gently lifts you, guiding you over the edge of the tub and into the warm spray of water.

You lean against him heavily, sleepiness coming over you like a fog. He runs a hand over your hair affectionately, then leans down to whisper, “Four rooms to go.”

–

“Jin? Is the table set?”

“It’s set.”

“Can you open the wine?”

“Opening.”

“What about the -”

Seokjin takes your hands. You hadn’t even heard him enter the room. You’re too frazzled to even be startled.

“What are you so nervous for?” he asks, peering at you. “It’s Minji and Jungkook and our parents. We could literally serve pizza bagels in our pajamas and it would be fine.”

You sniff. “That actually sounds really good.”

Seokjin looks at you indulgently. “They won’t be here for another half hour. We have lots of time.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “You’re right. It’s just my first time hosting everyone at the same time here, in our place together - it just feels… significant.” Your parents and Seokjin’s family had been to the place you share several times in the last few months, but never together. Never for an event.

“I’m not saying I disagree,” he says gently. “But I promise, everything is more than fine.”

“You’re right,” you say, still unable to help, but glancing around the eating area for any detail you may have missed.

“Why don’t we try the wine?” Jin suggests.

“That’s for later,” you remind him.

“There’s plenty. We should make sure it’s good.” He sends you a wink.

You sigh, knowing exactly what he’s up to. “A small pour,” you instruct. “I’m gonna go grab my phone off the charger, I’ll be right there.”

You step through your bedroom without bothering to turn the lamp on, moving by memory over to your nightstand where your phone awaits. When you turn around to head back, you bump into Seokjin, lingering behind you in the shadowy room.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “I thought you were opening the wine.”

He takes your hands again, how he had just minutes ago by the kitchen table. “You’re right,” he says, ignoring your question. “Tonight does feel significant.”

You feel your brows furrow. “Jin?”

He takes a breath, like he’s steadying himself. “There’s something I want to ask you before everyone gets here.”

Your heart drops into your ass.

He continues. “I thought for a long time about all the different ways I could do this, because you deserve something spectacular. But, I got tired of waiting for an idea that felt good enough and I just want you. So…” He trails off, digs in his pocket, pushes something square and velvet into your hands.

“Jin,” you whisper, heart pounding. It feels right, somehow, that it’s happening like this. Just you and him, the apartment - the world - silent around you, speaking quietly through the dark.

It’s always been you and Seokjin, in the dark.

“So,” he continues, like if he stops he’ll lose his nerve, “I want to ask you… if you want to get married. If you’ll marry me.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Yes.”

He wraps you in a hug, and you say, muffled by his shirt, “Can we go back in the light so I can see the ring?”

Later, he sends you a sly sideways smile. “You know my sister’s going to spot that before she’s even through the door.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep my hands in my pockets all night, just so I don’t have to hear her.”

He bumps you lightly with his hip so you’ll look up at him. “Are you happy?” he asks quietly.

You think about everything you’ve been through - a lifetime of wanting, years of misunderstanding, and over a year between figuring it out and now. Finally, finally, everything has aligned, every piece in place.

“Never been happier,” you tell him, resting a hand on his heart.

“Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let’s stay that way for a long, long time.”

–

“No, you hang up first!” Minji squealed for the ninth time, before blowing many kisses into the phone and finally hanging up with her boyfriend. She was twenty, in love, and had somehow lost you from her bedroom during the course of the phone call.

Calling your name quietly, she’d left her bedroom, typing a text to you as she peered into each of the rooms of the house, even the basement where Jungkook and his friends were still drinking.

“Don’t get alcohol poisoning,” she warned them. “Has anyone seen Y/N?”

Finally, she decided you must have gone home and started padding back to her bedroom, sending you one more angry text to find in the morning.

As she passed Seokjin’s room, she noticed his door was open about a foot. She stepped closer, just meaning to pull it closed - they did that for each other if they fell asleep with it open, it was just muscle-memory at that point - and then froze.

You were in Seokjin’s bed, fast asleep, curled up facing the door. For a second, she thought you were alone, but then she spotted Jin’s arm over your belly, his shoulders peeking out from behind yours.

She bit her lip, staring, silent. In his sleep, Seokjin’s arm flexed against you, and Minji watched as you instinctively reached up to touch his arm, butterfly light, before letting your hand fall back to the mattress again.

She closed the door quietly, continued down the hall to her own room.

She knew better than to interfere, knew better than to meddle and mess it up. But still...

Maybe someday, she thought. Maybe someday you’d figure it out.

<- Prev

wow i can't believe it's over!! thank you so much for being here along the way - i know this was very different from my normal and i hope you had a really fun time reading! <3

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elliespassagerprincess · 6 months

Note

wait I’m so curious to the angst fic you wrote to in my feelings - ldr :0 cuz I would’ve never interpret it into an angst fic! Do you think you can publish that one too? No pressure! 💕

In my feelings - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon, here she is! I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song in my feelings by Lana Del Rey, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:) This was originally a smut fic. You can read it here, but this wonder anon requested a angst edition, so yes.

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one:)

Warnings: toxic situationship

Summary: In which you fell for a loser

Authors note: i know I've not been that active and I'm so sorry. Life has just been busy, i have to write exams, i have a surgery on Thursday so it's been tense lmao, but I'm trying. Please be patient with me <3

I'm smoking while I'm runnin' on my treadmill

But I'm cutting up roses

Could it be that I fell for another loser

I'm crying while I'm cummin'

Making love while I'm making good money

Sobbin' in my cup of coffee

'Cause I fell for another loser

"Could it be that I fell for another loser?" You asked Dina as the cigarette smoke left your plush lips.

You heard Dina snort beside you.

"probably, she looks like she could be one, and she treats you like shit" she shrugged"

you shook your head at her honesty.

It's embarrassing honestly. You truly did have a type for losers.

People who couldn't make eye contact with you. People who would fold as soon as you gave them your pretty smile. You had the control, but yet anything you had with these people weren't real love. It was purely lust. It was fun.

You liked being in control, you liked breaking them.

But with Ellie it was different.

You met Ellie at a gym.

She caught you eye immediately. She was perfect. Her autumn brown hair tied in a tight ponytail, she was wearing pink leggings with a matching sports bra. The sweat on her forehead glistening under the light of the gym.

If god was real this pretty girl would be in your bed by the end of the night

You ran on the treadmill for a while, trying to ignore the pretty girls eyes. You saw her watching you though the mirror. You felt her eyes trail down your body.

Maybe she wanted you like you wanted her.

After a while you tried leaving the gym, you lit a cigarette as you walked out, your bag hung on your shoulder.

"Hi"

you flinched at the strange voice.

Oh. It was her.

Pink tight girl.

"Hey" you responded.

You saw her gaze fall to the floor as she shyly muttered "I'm Ellie"

What a fucking loser. She couldn't even look at you.

You loved her already.

You gave her your name, and you listened as it fell from her tongue multiple time. She was testing the was your name tasted on her tongue and she loved it.

"Those are bad for you" she pointed out you shrugged

"it makes me look hot, doesn't it?" Was all you said as you took another puff, throwing your head back as the smoke filled the air.

You felt her eyes on you, and you heard her audibly gulp.

"Doesn't it Ellie?" you persisted

"yeah- yeah it does"

you gave her a smile, and before you waved goodbye she handed you a paper. With a raised eyebrow you opened it and in a messy handwriting was her number.

You looked at her and she looked away, she couldn't make eye contact with you.

All you could do was smirk, they were always so fucking easy to make nervous.

"I'll call you" you winked.

Now here you stood 5 weeks later, sobbing into a cup of coffee because you fell for a fucking loser.

Get that cigarette smoke out of my face

You've been wasting my time

While you're taking what's mine, with the things that you're doing

Talk that talk, well now they all know your name

And there's no coming back from the place that you came

Baby don't do it

you don't know what happened with Ellie.

The girl you called a loser once, the girl who fell to her knees when you smiled is suddenly a cold hearted person.

"Get that cigarette smoke out of my face" Ellie huffed as she sat across you.

You rolled your eyes before you put the cigarette out.

"Ellie calm down so we can talk"

"talk about what? You're wasting my time with this"

your jaw dropped at her words.

'What a fucking bitch' you thought to yourself.

"I'm wasting your fucking time? Ellie don't make me mad because I will fucking slap you"

she looked taken aback at your harsh words, her cheeks tined in a pink color.

Her eyes fell to the floor, and for a second you saw her.

Your Ellie.

The loser you fell for.

But she suddenly got up muttering "I will not be disrespected by someone like you", and she walked out of your apartment. The door slammed and you were left alone.

The silence was so loud.

There was no coming back from this.

The more time you spent with Ellie, the more you discovered about her. She used to be so sweet.

You remembered your first date, she couldn't even hold your hand and she constantly apologized for everything.

She was a fucking loser.

But one day someone said that Ellie was out of your league. You knew she was. Some like Ellie deserved someone better, but yet you thought she fell for you.

That day changed everything. Ellie's eyes widened at the person's comment and she was quieter than usual that day.

The next time you saw her, she was a whole new person. Her entire persona changed. Her hair, makeup, style, even the way she fucking walked changed.

You were happy that she had confidence, but you found out she was seeing other people behind your back.

Despite never being official it hurt.

You knew Ellie could talk to whoever she wanted to, but you thought you had something special.

One night when Ellie was sleeping over, you asked her the question.

"What are we?"

she never replied.

Every fucking time you brought it up, she always walked away.

What a fucking loser. What a fucking pussy.

Even today, you invited her over to talk. To see if she liked you. You needed closure because truthfully you fell for the autumn brown headed girl.

You just had to make sure.

And to hear her say that you were wasting her time was fucking sick.

She was wasting yours with her games.

And here you thought you had actually met a loser worth your time.

'Cause you got me in my feelings (catch you, it's so much right now)

Talking in my sleep again (you can whistle if you want)

Drown out all our screaming (catch you, it's so much right now)

Who's tougher than this bitch

Who's free-er than me

You wanna make the switch

Be my guest baby

I'm feeling all my fucking feelings

you wish you could sleep right now. You were tired, and you didn't have any energy for bullshit.

Ellie's rant had begun after she spotted you and Dina getting lunch earlier.

Wow so you can't breathe the air of another girl but she can fuck someone else? That's wonderful logic!

But you sat here listening to Ellie yelling at you for some reason.

You wish you could drown put her screaming.

"Ellie can you just shut the fuck up!" you yelled.

You had enough of her mixed signals. You had enough of her practically cheating on you. You were tired.

"How dare you talk to me like that-" but before Ellie could end up yelling again you got up, pushing her against the wall.

"How dare I? How dare you! You fucking lead me on for weeks, then you freak out when I hang out with another girl! Ellie you are really fucking stupid" you said though heavy breathes.

Ellie stared at you with wide eyes.

There she is.

The girl you thought you had a chance with.

You took a step back, shaking your head and chuckling.

"You really are a fucking loser, how could I fall for someone like you?" You asked yourself.

Ellie heard.

She got up walking to you, she placed her hands on your shoulders "i-i like you. A lot. I just didn't know how to express myself- and- you made me so nervous so I thought I could make you j-jealous"

you shrugged her hands off your shoulders and you took another step back.

"That's not how relationships work Ellie, you ruined this yourself"

"Please listen-"

"get the fuck out"

Ellie sighed before she got up. She was on her way to the door, and she looked back at you for the last time.

"smoking is bad for you" she said with a sad smile.

You chucked at her words before responding "it makes me look hot doesn't it?"

"It really does"

you watched as Ellie walk out the door, you lit another cigarette.

As the smoke filled the air, like it has countless times before. you let out a sigh at the realization: you fell in love with another loser.

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mari-the-bimbo · 2 years

Note

Bro, you got me OBSESSED with dormmate Sukuna (I read it all in one go)! You're so talented, god fucking dammit I love your writing!

I do have a request though but please feel free to say no if you don't like it, but I'm a thirsty bitch for some angst so could you make a dormmate Sukuna where he gets into an argument with the reader and say some mean stuff in the heat of the moment and she leaves? Like, she takes the car as leves, vanishing without saying another word and he doesn't know if she's okay or anything like that, and you can finish with some fluff idk I just had this idea while taking a shower lmao

Dorm mate Sukuna: the storm brewing

A/N: Is it even a series if I don’t randomly add angst before the confessions? 😼Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy! <3

“Oh boy” Yuuji sighed as he exited the dorm. He knew the storm was coming, Yuuji already heard the news about Sukuna beating up one of your male friends and as he watched you make your way over to Sukuna, he knew it was best to stay out of the incoming mess.

“- you can’t just beat people up Sukuna, all he did was talk to me”

The tatted, unbothered dorm mate shakes his head. “Everyone knows he’s a fuckboy y/n, it’s not that deep”

“No he’s not Sukuna. And he wasn’t even flirting with me! He was asking about my day because he’s my frie-“

“Aren’t you the one always complaining those college boys annoy you? Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” He asks dryly as he takes a puff of his cigarette tiredly.

“No Sukuna! I won’t thank you for beating up of friend of mine!” You snap.

Sukuna is stunned into silence. Then a crease formed in his eyebrows, why were you getting so defensive? Can you not just have some trust that he did it for a good reason and leave him alone?

But that was the problem. Sukuna himself knew there was no good reason.

Only a bad reason. The reasoning of him wanting to kill any man that looks your way lately. The reason that repressing his romantic feelings for you was starting to consume whatever pieces of sanity he had left.

“Why did you do it?”

Why did he do it? Because he doesn’t know how to process his feelings for you? It confused him, frustrated him and your insistence was only driving him more mad. He needed to be alone and figure it out. Your questions started to sound like a headache.

But he wasn’t the only one going mad. Rage filled your body as you watched your dorm mate ignore you and groan as he rubbed his head instead. It’s almost as if he saw your feelings as irrelevant. If only you knew the real reason.

“Sukuna hello???”

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to cancel out your voice, it’s the last thing he needed right now. God please just stop-

“Sukuna im asking you a question!”

“AND IM ASKING YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roars, throwing his cigarette on the kitchen floor.

Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence.

“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING WHORE YOU KNOW THAT? I HELP DRIVE THOSE BASTARDS AWAY FROM YOU AND YOU COME BACK CRYING LIKE A BITCH NOW THAT YOU CANT GET THEIR ATTENTION ANYMORE” he screams.

Silence fell upon the room. All that could be heard is Sukuna heavy panting after his string of vile words. Vile words that he knew weren’t true.

You stare at the man in front of you. You don’t see your loving, manly dorm mate who you have feelings for, just a selfish, violent man. And suddenly you realised you didn’t want to be in a room with such a man.

Before you turned away, you saw the instant guilt in his red eyes as he watched a tear fall from your eyes, but it was too late.

“Y/n-“

“Save it”

And those were the last words Sukuna heard from you as you left the dorm without a word.

Sukuna slumped back into the chair in defeat at the sound of the door. What has he done?

Rough fingers pulled his dishevelled pink hair in frustration as his mind flashed pictures of your teary eyes.

Sure, he’s made you cry before, whether it was pulling your hair, or eating your food, but never heartbreak. Never that. He was supposed to be your hero, not the villain. He was tired of being the villain. For once he was just supposed someone’s beloved. But now he ruined that too.

He wasn’t going to look for you, he’s done enough damage already. He always knew he wasn’t good enough for you. Today he proved it.

To think all of this could’ve been prevented if only Sukuna understood love.

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eggos030 · 1 year

Text

Tipsin' | KTH

Suggested Play . . . Doin' Time by Lana Del Rey

Summary ➧ WHO would of thought that your now ex Fiance got up and left you in the middle of Paris? with no shelter or no regret and the self loathing mother of his. It was meant to be a trip for the both of you to finally bath in each others love.

but what do you know? nothing but a man wondering the streets of Paris wanting to get away from his famous life style knows what.

❝ Pairing ❞ IDOL!Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader

⌫ Genre ⌦ ONESHOT, Fluff, Angst, plus maybe something suggestive?? Strangers to lovers

↲ Warning's ↳ TAEHYUNG IN PARIS CAUSE I SAID SO, Swearing, cheating cause your husband is a dick, the reader just throws her life out the window after it tho, taehyung is so sweetest,

➜ A/N ꒱ I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK. I never intended for this to take so long and some of you have been waiting for this and there for I sincerely apologize but yippy! its out now after who knows how long. If I ever tried to write again please probably expect the same behavior where I will take 6 months to upload a short one-shot, but it out and I will hopefully learn my lesson and try to be more time-crunch-worthy. I hope you all enjoyed this and have a great day/afternoon/night!

Please tell me if your wish to repost it but do not claim as your own!

You regret the whole thing.

Why did you put some much effort in if it was only to end out like this?

Why did you trust them? Why did you trust him if his mother came to spoil the trip with the excuse of ‘it will just be some good old family time’ when your fiance agreed to make this a trip for just the two of you?

They left you simply because you weren’t just the right for his wrench of his mother.

You were waiting at Cathedrale Notre-Dama de Paris and the way they decided to cut ties was simply to just wave off a text.

Oh dear, I’m so very sorry. I know it wasn’t for the best to end it this way but I simply can’t hold it in, I don’t love you.

I never have.

Why would I continue if I grew out of it?

The hotel reservation is cancelled and your belongings are waiting for you outside.

what a lame gimmick.

How were you meant to process this? you were surrounded by a crowd if you started crying it would cause a scene.

What did you even do to deserve this?

Now, what did you do to deserve this??

while having a quiet breakdown and struggling to find your way back to the 30-minute walk hotel, only searching for what you have in your purse in case someone thought it was free luggage, you lost the track of time.

The sun was painfully setting quick as the street lights turned on causing panic to settle in. You have nowhere to stay because hell knows if the same expensive hotel would let you stay for a night under $30 within your card. You settle on the rock wall on a bridge watching the sun merge into the ground, you weigh your options to find a bar and drink away your sorrows in hopes of finding a kind that would let stay within their abode for a day or two.

And a kind soul you did find.

Within your sappy sorrows and bubbling panic festering inside you, you never took aware of your surroundings as a telling figure approaches you.

" ma’am? Are you okay? " a deep yet so soft and gentle voice woke you up from your daydreaming. Your head slowly turns to the left to find a gorgeous man.

He wore a simple white button-up and some simple brown dress suit pants. simple yet outstandingly attractive, he was truly something to gaze upon which you got distracted by immediately.

He gets more worried when you haven't responded so he asked again.

" oh " was all you could muster " Oh! Me! "

He agreed with a distressed nod but a small smile crackled on his face, god he's, even more, prettier with a smile.

" I'm sorry, it's just I noticed you were crying? "

You were crying?

You quickly wipe your check to feel the tears, realizing you had cried you were quick to reassure him.

" oh, I'm okay I swear it's just been a really tough day " you stuttered through your sentence for a moment but begin to realize your situation again, He saw the swift change of emotions within your expression.

" oh no, I'm so sorry " why is he so nice?

" It's okay! you don't need to apologize, it was probably better than what others might do" ew, that was the fattest lie you've ever said, and hate it.

He grew curious about the case. " I know this might sound very weird since well we only meet within like 5 minutes but do you maybe wanna tell me about it? "

His voice was soft and gentle again while his eyes lock onto yours, he looked at you with such care as you would shatter within a touch, unlike your now ex-fiance.

" over a drink? " you suggested with a weary tone like you were stepping on eggshells.

He softly grins.

" I don't see why not "

Literally, 6 hours ago your fiance broke up with you and left you in Paris all by yourself with no remorse, you wandered around Paris, and then found the most handsome yet caring man that could ever exist.

either god knew you needed a reset on your man choices or he just chose you to be the lucky one today cause here you are in an old people's bar with a man you never thought you could ever come across.

it didn't take you very long to chug down a couple of drinks to block out your bugging problems but there was a habit on this behalf of drinking.

you get very chatty.

You two got chatting away and learned his name was Kim Taehyung, you thought Kim was a very suitable last name next to your's but you weren't sure if he could handle you any longer, but he didn't seem to mind when he told you his side of his problems. It turns out that Taehyung is a big Korean pop star with tons of fans running after him and his friends, there are only small times when he can take a break from it for a while which in this case is the trip he's currently on.

" Pairs was and always is calming to me. I come here often because the place holds a lot of meaning to many people whether it would be for love or the aesthetic of the city maybe even the history but for me personally? I only come here for the art, it's pretty and wonderful to look at like you could make art here yourself which I do by taking pictures from time to time. "

He spoke with clear passion in his eyes like a dog just got a treat or you gave an iPad to a 9-year-old for the first time, it was something you adored to watch while spending such a small time with him.

You managed somehow to complement some input to his passion.

" wow," he looked at you confused by the sudden input.

" I mean like it would make sense knowing that you like have such a busy lifestyle with this whole idol career. " you back yourself up but he hums realizing what you meant.

" ah, well it's not that bad really " he tries to reassure you but you give him a blank stare causing him to giggle" really it's not! sure some threats and weird people but aside from that we have very loving fans who are very supportive who loves us to bits and so we repay them back with the same love " you smile softly at his kindness for random kids start to show again.

" I think that is very kind of you " He looks at you searching threw your eyes for a lie only to find true honesty with a smile " I mean you've never really met all of them and yet you try so hard to give back the love they give you in your dark times just like what you do for them right? "

He nods with a grin " yeah " he pauses before saying it again.

you gaze upon the old people around you as the jazz band starts to play a cover of fly me to the moon by Frank Sinatra, you smile as some of them get up to dance.

" you know, I really like Frank Sinatra "

you look at him realizing the distance between the two of you, you lean on your left arm as Taehyung leans closer to you on his right arm, he looks back at you waiting " yeah? " you question speaking softly like the whole world could listen to you.

" yeah. " His smile slowly forms into a grin " He makes me want to dance "

" Really? " you giggle as you also start to grin, damn that cocktail is getting to you quickly.

" yeah, I'm serious " He starts to giggle and grin but it slowly dies down, he mutters something while breaking eye contact to get up and move to the dance floor making you confused.

" what are you doing? " you quickly question not having a clue what he's doing until he starts to move his feet to the beat and his arms swing to the bass.

"I'm dancing " He states waving his arms out proudly.

" you dance like a dork " you laugh as he covers his heart pouting like a sad puppy.

you watch him dance his heart away before getting up to join him. He quickly turns around at the feel of arms wrapping around his to find you swinging and swaying to the beat as well, He smiles as he brings you closer wrapping an arm around your waist and slipping his hand into yours.

" Is this alright? " He leans down to your ear and softly asks, his low rasp sends shivers down your spine as you nod softly before placing your head onto his shoulder.

" Is this okay? " you ask with a whisper " fine with me, sweetheart" he responds with a small comforting smile as you close your eyes and bathe in his warmth welcoming the flush forming on your cheeks as your heart beats faster.

You both slowly rock to the beat letting the world slip from your grasp and hold each other like it could end any moment, you're enveloped by his rich expensive cologne by who knows what fancy brand but you would never want to let it go, his soft yet calluses decorated his fingertips but his big hands held your waist perfectly when from time to time he would gently move his hand tracing your spine and moving back down past your waist just to your tail bone before moving to its original spot.

This man cradles you so gently that could make you melt in seconds but it makes you think that your ex-fiance never held you like, questions start pouring through as you doubt if there were signs earlier in your relationship that you missed.

Taehyung glances down at you finding you dazed and spaced out " is something on your mind? " You look back up at him and find him with a worried expression.

" oh it's fine " you spoke softly smiling as the wave of emotions collided with each other, the alcohol swaying deep inside but it was evident to everyone you thought especially to him.

He paused for a moment searching through your eyes before speaking " I know we haven't spent much time together but it wouldn't hurt to tell a stranger what's on your mind? "

He wasn't wrong, I always thought that it might be therapeutic to just realize everything to someone who wouldn't remember about it an hour later.

"Well, my reason for being here originally was to spend some time with my fiance and his mother because he proposed not long ago " Taehyung's warm and happy expression dropped from the words.

" oh, but if you were here with them then where are they? they must be worried about you " He started to draw away from me but I quickly grabbed onto his shoulders pulling him back in and provoking him to look perplexed.

" He left me. "

Taehyung stands in shock. Why would someone leave someone so captivating, gracious, thoughtful, and witty as you? un-answered questions racing through he gazed down at you.

"Why? " was all that came out of him. He stood stunned by the words that left you as confusion formed a frown on his face " why would anyone even . . . " he was truly baffled.

"It's okay though, with trial comes error right? " you smile back at him, his gaze slowly falls to pity as you let the words fall out " I'll just call a family member, or " you slowly start to stutter, struggling to find the next pair of words until you feel a soft grasp of his hands holding yours leading you off the dance floor.

As the two of you sit down he holds you close whispering sweet gentle comforts in your ear as you calm down by the warmth he radiates and the gentle caresses of his thumb while he has your hand.

"Look, this might not be the best-suited place for you to tell me how terrible your so-called husband is but I have a beautiful view of the Eiffel tower from my hotel suite if you want to complain about your problems there. "

You slowly look up to meet his caring gaze and with a nod, you were whisked away from your savior of the night.

TAGLIST: @midnight-the-shadow-wolf , @osakis-gf , @itsme-mel

209 notes · View notes

diavolosbaby · 2 years

Note

Hello! I'd like to request a one shot with Om Simeon x gn MC please ^^ Now, I read in your rules you're alright with writing heavy themed fics, but I still would like to give a heads up for the content of my request. Can I ask for MC askimg Simeon if suicide is really a sin? Maybe they've attempted in the past and things are getting worse in the present time amd they're getting lost in that same headspace? So like, they're wondrring what would happen with them after they'd die? Sorry if this is too specific, if it's too much for you, feel free to ignore it, just let me know please! Thank you so much have a wonderful day byeeee!

Sure :) Warning! This will have talk about suicide being selfish and a sin//

Characters: Simeon

Genre: angst,comfort,angst to comfort

Format: oneshot

Pronouns: they/them

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

"Is suicide truly a sin?"

“Is suicide truly a sin?”

Simeon didn’t think much of the question, a simple frown adorning his face.

“I hate to think about this topic to be honest. But, if we’re talking technicalities, then yes.” he said with a sigh.

“Oh, ok.” you said plainly. “And what do you think..? Away from the technicalities and angel stuff?”

He looked up and pondered for a moment.

“I think so too.”

You looked at him, wearing a sort of betrayed expression. He wasn’t looking at you though. He was still looking up at the sky as he continued his response.

“You were put on this earth for a reason. God put you on this earth for a reason…I mean, throwing away the holy gift of life because what? You’re feeling down? It’s all a bit selfish, don’t you think MC?

When he finally looked your way, he saw you turned away from him and shivering.

“MC?” he went to place his hand on your shoulder.

You tried your best to explain to him, despite your hitching breath and gasps for air.

“No it’s not selfish…I’m not selfish..” You hoped he’d understand what you were implying.

Though you were choking on sobs, he understood.

He pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. There were no words to make up for what he just said to you.

You shook and sobbed in his arms. You loved him the most and he loved you the most. Why couldn’t he understand? Why did he say those things? Does he really believe that? You didn’t know.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms and woke up to him playing with your hair.

Your nose was stuffed and your throat hurt. You felt terrible.

“MC, I’m glad you’re awake..”

You were numb. You didn’t care about the pain and you didn’t care about him. You wanted comfort and you didn’t receive it.

“What if I killed myself right now, tonight?” you said blankly.

Simeon looked shocked and leaned in to look into your eyes. He saw nothing.

“Would you think that I was nothing but a selfish sinner when I’m gone??”

It was his turn to cry now. “No..That’s not…”

You were sobbing again now.

“MC…I’m so sorry i didn’t know I didn’t-”

You got up and looked at him through your tears and anger.

You then stormed out of his room and ran. You didn’t know where. But you ran.

If he can’t understand you, who could?

For @robin-the-enby :

If you want a part 2, message me or send another ask I’ll be happy to write it!

- Just let me know whether you want a happy or sad ending :)

506 notes · View notes

tomurderornottomurder · 10 months

Text

if we could just pretend; peter parker

pair. ceo!peter parker and male!reader

summ. peter reunites with an old friend. his old friend is a recovering drug addict. his old friend doesn't recover.

gen. angst, fluff, hurt/no comfort

wc. 8.8k

tw. death, drugs, addiction, overdose descriptions, blood, injury descriptions, decomposition descriptions, body descriptions from drug use, alcohol, guilt, food/eating mentions

note. can you tell i'm clearing out old drafts? song is if we could just pretend by flatsound. this has been sitting in my drafts forever and also this is the longest oneshot i've ever written. this has been two years in the making simply because i forgot it existed and got stuck several times and i did not know how to end it, so please enjoy and feedback is appreciated. as it's been sitting, my writing might show some of it's age but overall, i think it's solid. lastly, disclaimer that i have never dealt with drug addiction myself but have been around people who have so if anything is incorrect please let me know so i can improve/change it.

Where did you go, and what did you do,

With all that time, you too scared to move?

"I really appreciate this, Pete." You slap a hand on his shoulder, "I promise to make it up," You point a finger at him, "and you can hold me to that, alright?"

"You don't owe me anything, you know that," Peter replies, holding one of your bags.

The elevator dings and you step out. Peter's penthouse is extravagant and honestly just not like him. "Holy shit," You mumble. "You sure you live here?" You turn to him with raised brows.

Peter laughs softly, "I've got a few spare rooms so let me know which one you like best."

You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek. "Peter!" You drop your arms to wrap around his torso, "Ah, thank you so much."

Peter freezes up as his face turns bright red. He drops your bag to reciprocate your hug and rubs a hand up and down your back, "It's no problem." He's forgotten how affectionate you can be.

"You're the best, Petey!" You give him a squeeze before pulling away. You laugh softly, "Sorry 'bout the kiss, I'm just so excited! And oh my god have I missed you!" You wrap him into another hug and squeeze.

"Can't breathe," He mutters.

You pull away and put your hands on his shoulders, "Sorry, man."

"Well, I hate to leave you but I'm going to be late for a meeting. I should be back soon, feel free to explore."

"You sure?" You quirk a brow at him, putting your hands on your hips.

"Definitely. Enjoy yourself,"

"Oh," You laugh as Peter heads to the elevator. "Peter Parker, you have made a mistake giving me such freedom."

He just laughs, "Don't burn the place down." He flashes a smile before the elevator doors close.

You twirl around in amazement, "You have really outdone yourself, Pete." You tour each room and finally pick one down the hall from Peter's. You unload your things and roughly set up your room to keep yourself busy. You explore the penthouse to get an idea of the layout and your mind piles questions up to ask Peter later. Out of pure curiosity and boredom, you peek into Peter's room. You smile at the light blue walls and vintage, framed posters. You take a step inside to get a better view and quirk a brow at a discarded bra on the floor. "Oh," You mutter. What have you been up to Peter?

"I'm back!" Peter announces, stepping out of the elevator.

What is it like, to be by yourself, for three and a half years

For roughly three and a half years

"Welcome home, Pete." You smile at him. "So, what's on the menu?"

"I'll just cook something," Peter shrugs, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it up. "What do you like?"

You shrug, "Anything you cook, I'll probably eat."

"Great," He flashes a smile but you can clearly see how tired he is. He rolls the sleeves of his button-up to his elbows as he strides into the kitchen.

You follow Peter into his kitchen, taking a seat at the island while he sifts through pots and pans. "So, the famous Peter Parker doesn't have a personal chef or something?" You rest your head on your hands as you lean your elbows onto the island. You watch Peter as he gracefully pulls out ingredients and prepares them.

"I like cooking," is his simple reply.

"For your lady friends?" You smirk.

He cranes his neck in your direction with wide eyes, "What?"

You laugh, "I saw a bra on your floor. Is it from a girlfriend or a mistress?" You bite your lip to hold in another laugh as you watch Peter become more and more flustered. This is the Peter Parker I know.

"I don't have a girlfriend or mistress," He points a pan at you. "But it's probably from a one-night stand," He shrugs, turning back to his stove.

"One-night stand? Is this my Peter Parker who couldn't ask out Liz Allan or Mj? How's Mj doing by the way?" He really has changed.

"She's in Europe right now,"

"Good for her," You reply. "But back to my point, since when has Peter Parker been a one-night stand kind of person?"

He shrugs, "I grew up I guess."

"Being rich turned you into Tony Stark?" You chuckle, looking at him with pure adoration. He shakes his head with a low giggle. "Onto my next line of questioning then," You get up from your seat walking to his side. "You have alcohol?" He points to a cabinet. "Great. Now that wasn't my question," You reach up and grab some alcohol of your choice. "Why do you have so many paintings?" You lean onto the island, alcohol in hand.

He shrugs, "I enjoy art." He starts throwing ingredients into a pan.

"Are you okay? Did your meeting turn to shit?"

He quirks a brow and looks at you as he tosses in more ingredients. "Why?"

"You're kinda snappy today. You can tell me what happened," You grab the bottle of alcohol and offer it, "and have a drink."

He sighs, "Sure, pour it." He throws in a few more ingredients before pouring a bit of vegetable oil.

"Anything special?" You ask, grabbing a glass from a cabinet. He shakes his head, focusing on his cooking. You smile and decide to whip him up the same thing you had when you got him to drink alcohol for the first time. "This is a classic, Peter Parker. And frankly, if you don't recognize it, I'll be offended." You smile at him as you mix his drink.

He chuckles and shakes his head before turning his attention back to cooking. His mind is all over the place, especially with you here and by his side, he needs to focus on his cooking though.

"We make such a great pair," You start as you finish pouring his drink. "You can cook and I mix a mean drink." You slide over his drink and start downing your own. You sigh, leaning onto your hand and watching Peter. This is a nice moment, a nice break from the hell of your life.

Silence takes over the kitchen with the only noises being the moving of glasses and sounds of the food cooking. Peter's entire focus is on his cooking while your mind wanders. You watch him for a bit before momentarily drawing your attention away to refill your glass every so often. You think about how much he's changed since high school. How he's still the same yet vastly different. How your worlds greatly differ and how lucky you are for your path having come across his again.

"Peter," You start -a bit too quiet for your liking- with your throat burning, guilt coming up just like puke does. "Peter," You repeat and this time your voice is at a volume you like. "What did you do?" You ask this too quickly. You catch how vague the question is and expand further, "I know we weren't the closest and we still aren't and I'm sorry but what did you do? What did you do in those years I was gone? I know I didn't keep in contact like Mj and everyone else did- and Ned stayed here so-" You cut yourself off. You're rambling too much. "I shouldn't have left like I did. No contact, not even a text or DM. That was shitty but I want to know what you did? What did you do by yourself?"

Peter turns to you with a soft smile but you can feel the sadness behind it. He really doesn't know what to say. "It's okay, you know?" His head is tilted down but his eyes peer up to look at you. "It's okay that you left," He wants to assure you and hope he does. He can't be sure that he's reassuring though because he's not sure the words he's using are right. "By myself," He mumbles to himself but doesn't realize it. He sighs before explaining what happened after graduation, how he graduated college early, and lastly how he inherited some of Tony Stark's company and started his own.

"God," You shake your head after Peter finishes. "I wish I could say the same," You chuckle sadly. Your mind wanders back to before now, before college, just at the beginning of the disaster that your life is.

If we could just pretend, that I went to college

And that is why you, you haven't seen me

Your future looked bright. You just graduated and were sorting through college acceptance letters. Peter was doing the same with his Aunt. You really wanted to go to a college out-of-state; you'd lived in New York forever and wanted to branch out. Not only did you want to attend college across the country but you planned to study abroad; hopefully the college you chose to attend had one of those programs. You needed a new adventure and sure there was always something going on in New York with all the battles and things but you needed to be the adventurer.

Your first weeks of summer were spent thoroughly vetting the few colleges that truly spoke to you. You were planning to visit each campus, even one with Peter though he was set on attending school near his home. It made you kind of sad to think about; you and Peter were set on different paths. But you knew Peter would keep in touch; he never broke a promise. He was good like that, such a good person, such a good friend.

---

Two weeks into college; things were rough. You liked- well, no. You loved it. A new atmosphere was really what you needed. It's just that starting over is hard. You knew no one, had to navigate campus virtually by yourself, and classes were difficult; nowhere near what high school was like. It was exhilarating, too! So much to learn, so many people to meet, so many opportunities. You were honestly so caught up in all the newness you had forgotten about Peter; obviously, you knew he existed, and every so often something would remind you of a memory you had with him but when he texted and called, you never answered. You were just so busy and every time you checked your messages, it was late and you didn't want to bother Peter; you were sure you'd get back to him soon enough.

A year had passed before Peter stopped texting and calling. You didn't blame him and soon he completely left your mind. He hadn't been new enough for you and the guilt of this still burns in your chest.

Two years in and you were abroad in France. The country was beautiful, the people were interesting, the nightlife was exciting, and the drugs... the drugs were out of this world. The drugs took off the edge, they helped you forget, and they came in handy to crank out assignments. Well, that's how they started off, that's always how it started.

It wasn't long before you were in a week-long bender and lost in France. While high, you dropped out of college in a short, curse-filled phone call. You had missed your flight back to America anyway. From then on, you went spiraling further and further. Your mind was a blank slate and France held no consequences. You weren't native to the country and whatever happened there would stay there. You could abandon the country and fly home and forget it all ever happened. At least you thought you could.

I wanted to go, but not for this long

"Why can't you? What happened?" Peter asks as he slides a plate over to you and takes a seat next to you. He's truly worried, he hasn't seen you in what feels like forever and he just wants to know. He wants to be able to help someone he used to and still holds so close to himself.

You shake your head. You can't tell Peter what happened; there is no way you won't throw up if you do. You shrug and twirl the pasta Peter had made around your fork. "Well, I didn't graduate, unfortunately," You bite your lip. Fuck, I think I'm going to cry. Your childhood dream of graduating slipped through your fingers and all you have to blame is yourself.You choke down a sob before continuing with a chuckle to cover for yourself, "But hey! At least I got to get out of New York and I even went to France!" You beam at him before trying the pasta he's made you. Filling your mouth with Peter's wonderful cooking helps to stave off the sobs and quiet the burning sadness within you if only for a little bit.

"You can always go back," He proposes. "That's what Mj did," He adds, looking up at you with that bright smile of his.

That smile sends you back to high school and all the good times you had with Peter. Your heart is full, swelling, bursting at the seams. This is a good feeling, you miss this; feeling good all over, your whole body filled with goodness. "I guess," You shrug. "But it feels like it's too late." The statement is one of defeat and both Peter and you know that. You gave up so easily and you can only hate yourself for it.

"It's never too late," Peter beams at you again.

You can't help but smile back before replying, "I mean-" You sigh, "I guess I could but money's kind of a problem and I don't know if I can do the whole uh, going to lectures and mingling thing." You want to believe his words because some small part of you does but it's too real for you to face right now.

Peter wants to act laid back but he quickly replies, "I could always pay for it. I- I wouldn't mind at all," He suggests. "And if you want, we could sign you up for online courses! You could um," He bites his lip. Should I? And he does, "Stay here and attend your classes." It was hopeful and a stretch but Peter wants it. He misses you. He is worried about you. He doesn't quite realize it yet but now that you are back in his life, he wants to keep it that way; to keep you around and more importantly, keep you safe. He can't lose you again, that's too real for him to face.

You don't know what it is. Maybe having someone care for you is too much. It is terrifying. It's even sickening in a strange way. You really haven't kicked your addiction yet and it is so easy to get drawn back in. You wish it weren't but it just is. And now you're lying on Peter's living room floor, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and reaching out for someone who isn't there.

I overdid it

Well, Peter is there. He steps out of the elevator but he doesn't see you right away. Your body is blocked by his sofa but your coughs and gurgles fly over it. Peter's ears perk up and his spider-sense starts going crazy. He dashes and then jumps over the couch. He kneels beside you, his eyes wide, mouth going a mile a minute as he tries to say something- anything coherent. He quickly calls 911, holding your hand throughout and swiping his thumb over the top of your hand. He assures you that you'll be fine and keeps repeating that he's there.

Soon enough sirens flood the building and paramedics stampede into Peter's loft. Yelling and screaming ensue as Peter screams, fighting to stay by your side while police and paramedics yell. Three police officers have to not only drag Peter away but hold him down as he fights relentlessly to stay by your side. He just wants to know- he needs to know that you are okay. He can't lose you, it's too real.

As his body and mind calm so do his thoughts. His mind explores the possibility of him getting in the way of paramedics saving you and so he gives up, letting the officers restrain him with ease. But his mind wanders further and further. How did you get drugs? Why? Did he do something to set you off? What had he done?

Of course, none of his thoughts hold any truth but the possibility that they could, begin within Peter a ceaseless torrent of tears. He's sure by the time you leave the building and the police finally let him go, he could fill thirty pools with all the tears he's shed. But there's no time to dwell on his thoughts, he has to get to the hospital and be at your side! He won't let you leave him so easily, not again.

Why did you say, that I was one in a million?

Everything's been a blur. This moment now is blurry but you are present within it. Peter is sitting at your side, slumped over in a chair, one hand holding yours and the other holding his forehead as he mumbles curses to himself.

Slowly, you turn your head and unknowingly squeeze Peter's hand. In an instant, he's looking up at you and your eyes are open staring back at him. He could just scream! "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue and out of his mouth breathlessly, desperately. You both hold each other's gaze and each other's hand. The moment is blurry but it is nice.

"Peter," You whisper back, voice sore and croaky. You squeeze his hand again, it says more than your words ever could.

The pooled tears that have been swimming next to Peter's eyes finally fall and flow down his cheeks. Most tears follow the red paths down his already tear-stained face, a few divert creating new paths for the seemingly endless stream of tears. "I-" His voice and his pain catch in his throat. What can he say? What could he possibly fucking say?

"Why did you have so much faith in me?" You have to ask. You have to know. And you assume by now he has lost all that faith and so you must phrase the question the way you do. Your chest and whole upper body hurt like hell. There's a burning near your heart and in your throat, there's a tightness strangling your throat and crushing your ribs but the look Peter gives you hurts much more. The guilt within you burns hotter than Hell could ever be imagined to.

Because I believed it

You lean into Peter and Peter into you as he helps you walk out of the hospital. At the very moment that your foot hits the pavement, rain starts to fall, pelting you both in a way that can only be seen as some divine punishment. Even so, to you, the rain is heavenly and a respite from the thick cleanness and infuriatingly boring white inside the hospital. Peter quickly slips his jacket from his shoulders and carefully pulls you closer to him before covering both of your backs and heads with the jacket the best he can.

He rushes with you to the passenger side first, letting you slip into the seat he closes the door for you. You watch him only for a moment as he reaches the driver's side. You keep your head down, looking at your lap, and unwittingly begin to pick at your fingers. Your nerves are through the roof now more than they ever were in the hospital. At least in the hospital, you can expect Peter to be mostly calm but now you don't know how he might act. He's changed so much after all this time and who's to say he won't scream and yell at you? You swallow down your nerves as you hear Peter plop into his seat next to you.

Surprisingly and thankfully, the car ride is quiet. The rain pelting the car helps to ease your mind if only for a bit. You allow yourself a quick glance at Peter. His expression is almost unreadable if not a bit sad. Quickly, you turn away before you can start crying yourself and watch as cars and people and buildings pass you by.

Peter's mind is swirling with thoughts and question after question bounces around in his head. He wants to ask so many things but he can't and he knows that. He doesn't want to make you feel worse than he knows you're feeling right now. He just wants to let you have this time and hopefully, you can gather your thoughts enough to answer him when you're back at his loft. The whole time he drives though, his knuckles burn white as he grips the steering wheel too tightly. There's a tension that won't leave his body.

---

You two reach the building and before Peter reaches your side of the car, you step out, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, head held down as rain pelts the back of your head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The pelts of the rain help you keep a rhythm as you silently curse yourself and demean yourself with names. Each drop of rain against your skin serves as an insult your brain must deliver to itself. It isn't going to help but it does make you feel better. All the while you've been standing just outside the car, Peter has pulled his jacket over himself and motions for you to come under. You shake your head and trail a foot or two away still following him.

In minutes, you reach an entrance into the building and Peter holds the door open for you. You step through the threshold, head still down, and arms still wrapped around yourself. It's almost as if you were to move your arms away, your body would simply fall to pieces. Peter is at your side in a moment and you continue to follow him into the elevator. You both stand awkwardly and shivering a few feet apart as your clothes and body drip rain onto the marble floor of the elevator. This ride is as silent as the car but has a more threatening ambiance.

The elevator dings and Peter motions for you to go first before he follows. "You should take a shower," He proposes quietly.

It must have been some coincidence because right at that moment a shower is exactly what you crave. You nod at him, following him to the nearest bathroom. You try to peel your shirt off while Peter fetches you some towels but you have no luck.

"Do you need any help?" Usually, he would be asking this in a teasing manner but the words could not have left his lips any sweeter than they just did. His voice is quiet and calm, a little wavering but not so much as to cause concern. He's still shivering and dripping wet himself yet he stands there looking at you with such kindness.

You nod, "Please."

He shuffles to your side and slowly peels your shirt from your torso. He lifts it slowly, softly asking you to put up your arms. He gets a quick glimpse of your bones just barely being held behind your skin and bruises littering your torso. His face is close to yours as he pulls the shirt over your head and you can feel his breath. One more moment and he is pulling the shirt off of your arms. He gets a glimpse of the bruised injection sites on your arms and has to hold his expression. "There," He smiles, looking into your eyes.

"Thanks," You immediately cross your arms back over your chest, both from the cold and embarrassment. God, I probably look like shit.

Peter hasn't seen you like this since high school gym class and even then it was rare to catch you without a shirt on.

"I've got it from here," You tell him and he nods before closing the door.

Peter lets his mind wander to high school gym class. You hated it so much but Peter needed it. He had so much energy and he needed an outlet. That was of course before he had become Spider-Man and then he joined in on your hatred of the class though, he always did better than everyone there.

He wanders into his room to change before grabbing a towel to dry his hair as his mind wanders to a vivid memory of one of the only times he had seen you shirtless back in high school.

The class had gotten done swimming and everyone was out of the locker rooms, except Peter who had to do extra laps and had just gotten out of the pool. He dried his hair as he walked over to his locker but stopped in his tracks when his spidey sense started to go crazy. He looked in every direction but there wasn't anything he could see. A few more steps revealed you, sitting on one of the benches, your shirt laying in your lap and a towel wrapped around your waist.

That did catch Peter off guard but there was another thing: you were crying. Peter's stomach twisted in knots as he looked down at you. Suddenly, your eyes were on him. Shit! Why hadn't he said something? Now, he just looks creepy!

"Peter?" You asked in a hushed tone. You had looked like you'd been crying for a while. Your whole face was red along with your eyes, you looked terrible.

"Y/n," He returned your tone. He took a few steps forward and bent down a bit. "Are you okay?"

You shook your head. You were in no mood to avoid your feelings. You hurt and you hurt bad. "No," You answered bluntly.

Peter took a seat beside you. "What happened?"

The memory isn't the most pleasant but he remembers how after that you stayed at his apartment for three days and that seemed to have done you good. He wonders what happened to the Y/n he knew back then. He doesn't feel any differently toward you, not at all but what happened to you to make you so miserable now?

He finishes changing and drying himself off and steps out into the hall. At the same time, you step out of the bathroom. Peter meets your eyes and walks over. He looks you over and smiles, you have a towel tightly wrapped around your waist and a towel thrown over your head. "Here," He places his hands on top of the towel at your head and dries your hair.

You stand there, heart beating wildly as Peter helps you dry off. You notice his change of shirt and before fully thinking about it, reach out with your hand to slip it under his shirt before rubbing your thumb over the top of the fabric. You're sure Peter already saw the marks littering your body and right now you just didn't care. You want to feel his shirt and that's all you want.

Peter stiffens as you have a hold of his shirt. Your fingers aren't touching his skin since you hold the shirt out a bit but they did for a brief moment and the tingles it sent up his spine are unlike anything he's felt before. He accidentally stops drying your hair but continues as soon as he realizes that he's stopped. He sets his eyes upon you and it's a good thing you can't see his face. Anyone could see right through him at this very moment and pinpoint where his thoughts are.

He finishes drying your hair with the towel and slides it behind your head, letting the towel rest on the back of your neck. For a moment, he holds each end of the towel toward himself and he can't meet your eyes now. His head is down but he is looking at you.

Your head is down but you're looking at him. Your eyes dart from your hand still holding his shirt to the pecs you can just make out underneath his shirt. This is a moment of safety, of home, of tenderness, of friendship, of love. There's a silent agreement between you two and so, for the time you separate. You go to your room to get dressed as Peter goes into the living to wait for you.

"It's cold, isn't it?" Peter asks as you settle on his large couch. You nod and Peter sets a blanket over you. "I've got some hot chocolate on the stove," He knows that's your favorite. "It should be done soon."

I thought i had something that you

Were too scared to lose

You nod again, wrapping yourself in the blanket. "Thanks," You whisper.

He takes a seat next to you with his own blanket wrapped around his legs. He swings his legs so they rest on the couch and leans in, his shoulder touching yours. "What's on your mind?"

He genuinely wants to know, what the hell? You let out a deep breath and lean your head against his shoulder. "I was just thinking about high school. We used to be so different. I used to be so different. What happened to me?" You turn your head and stare into his eyes.

You don't know either. "I-" He's at a loss for words. "Whatever happened," He pauses and places his hand over yours. "It's not all bad." He smiles at you before standing. "Hot chocolate's ready," He says before walking off to the kitchen.

You start picking at your fingers again as you wonder what you're going to do. You can't rely on Peter for everything, that's just not how you are. You didn't even have any money after blowing what little you had on what you OD'ed on. God, why are you so stupid!? Peter's nice enough to let you crash at his place and what do you do?

"Hey," Peter's presence pulls you from your thoughts. "Here," He bends over as he hands you a cup of hot chocolate. He takes his seat next to you again, sitting a bit more straight this time so as to not spill his drink on you. "'Thinking about something?"

You nod, "Yeah, just..." You bring your cup to your cheek and bask in the warmth. It's been too long since you've truly felt any warmth like Peter's been showing you this whole time. "I can't stay with you forever," You muse, flicking your eyes to his, unsure of what he might say.

Peter chuckles, "Well if you want to, you can." He flashes that boyish smile of his at you and it hurts. His eyes and nose crinkle and his features are so bright. "I said it before, Y/n. I'll do anything for you."

God, that hurts. He cares about you too much. "Peter," You stop him in his tracks. He shouldn't be saying stuff like this. He needs to protect himself from you. "Don't say that." He's too attached, you can't let him be this attached.

Peter's soft expression turns puzzled and he turns to look at you. "Y/n?" He's looking at the side of your face while you keep your gaze straight ahead. "If it's about staying with me, I can get you your own place. I know-"

"Peter," Your voice is stern but tinted with softness as you cut him off. "I've got to do this stuff on my own."

"No," Peter protests immediately.

"What?" You sit up straighter now, looking at him deadly serious.

"You don't have to do anything alone. If it were me, you would say the same! I won't let you be alone with this." He sets his drink down on the coffee table as he continues to speak passionately. "I love you, Y/n." It's a confession masked as a friendly gesture of affection. "You're my friend." This covers his tracks though he wishes he didn't have to cover them in the first place. "I'm going to take care of you." It's the truth and it's real and he means it.

You can only look at him in awe, utter awe. He's serious about this.

"I-" He starts out confident but falters. Should I really say this? He catches the thought and tosses it aside. His confidence is back, only a bit less than before. "I can't lose you."

Something in you wants to slap him. He can't lose you? What the fuck!? You hold yourself back, hands tightly gripping your cup. You hang on his every word. Just what is he thinking?

Peter sighs, looking down momentarily, shaking his head. "I don't want things to be like before. I want to see you and be around you; I want to know that you're okay. And I want you to be happy."

You swallow his words and let them digest. They don't sound bad, at all. But there's a knot in your stomach and a scribbly, black haziness in the back of your mind setting off alarms.

Peter leans in as he says, "There's nothing wrong with asking for help." He sits back again, "You don't even have to ask, I'll just do!" He reaches out for your free hand, "I'm here for you." He gives your hand a small squeeze. "Just let me be here for you." It's a plea and it's all he can do.

Peter's greatest fear is loss. He's lost so many people in his life already he surely doesn't need to lose another. But losing you isn't exactly his main concern, it's seeing you live up to what you've always wanted, it's letting you chase your dreams and catching them, it's waking up every day with some real purpose, it's seeing you change for the better. His concern is you. His concern is your life. His concern is your well-being. His concern is your happiness and fulfillment. His concern is your recovery. And his concern is your change. He's lost you once, he won't lose you again.

It was all in the past now, you had nothing to be scared of. The road ahead is fruitful with opportunity. Peter is by your side. You're recovering. You can handle this. You've got it.

So if we could just pretend that I went to college

And traveled abroad, and did something different

Things go well for weeks and weeks, it feels as though nothing bad has ever happened before. But something sets you off. You see something on the street and return to Peter's loft as you cry like a maniac. You feel foolish for breaking down like you are, crying as hard as you are, and being unable to move from Peter's living room floor as you are. And even worse, Peter comes home.

He's taking off his coat casually as he normally would until he hears your sobs, then he rushes to your side. He rests his hand on your back and leans in close to ask what's wrong.

Your body refuses to let you answer and so, you just cry as he sits there before slowly pulling you closer and into his lap. He pets your hair and smooshes his cheek against your forehead as he quietly whispers. You two sit like this for about an hour before you finally calm down.

You try to wipe your tears away as fast and as best you can as you quickly crawl out of Peter's grasp, sudden and overwhelming embarrassment coming over you. "Please," You beg with your head held down, trying your best to keep Peter from seeing your face. "Can we just forget this all happened?" You're bent over now almost like you're praying even with your hands clasped in front of your head as your eyes though closed are pointed toward the ground. "Pretend I'm not some massive loser that wasted his life when you- you were here doing great things and I was just-" You sigh loudly, your head finally collapsing against Peter's floor. "Please," You cry out as tears start flowing heavily and you can feel a sob start to rack through your body, "please."

Your head hangs, chin pressing against your chest. Your eyes feel hazy and you can't see much. Your back is pressed against the cool brick of the wall behind you that you can barely feel due to the thick sweater and bloated jacket that warms your torso. Your legs are out in front of you and you laugh at their strange longness. You look at your feet next, the shoes they're adorned in, and how they too look strange and funny to you. You start laughing more and more, finding everything oh-so-funny.

Anything but just sitting at home

For three and a half years

Writing song, after song, after song

Your arms now look as if shooting targets were made out of Swiss cheese. The holes only seem to get larger and darker, like the darkness could swallow your body whole if you weren't careful. And you weren't. Your eyes had always been dark but now they were pits, black holes of nothingness, no knowledge held there, nothing, just nothing. Your face is sunken like the tar roads in the summer, always sinking deeper and deeper or like the deep trenches of the sea where something terrible lies. Your lips are chapped like the hands of the working man, skin always peeling off, and never able to be quite comfortable because they are raw and red and always rubbing against each other. You're as thin as a needle, legs barely able to function as you walk bone on bone, the grinding like that of teeth against teeth. Speaking of teeth, yours seem to keep falling out, leaving your mouth pouring blood flowing like the divine wine of Jesus.

Where was Jesus now? Not here to save you. Your Jesus, your divine savior, Peter Parker is far away now, not because he chose to be but because there is nothing else he could do, nowhere he could be, not for you. And you chose your new savior, it was not him. It used to sting your arm but it doesn't seem to do just that anymore. It helps you ascend but not as long as it used to. Your belief is starting to wane but not quick enough, not quick enough.

So what is it like to be by yourself

The elevator dings as Peter reaches his loft. He steps out with his coat hanging off his arm. The place is quiet, the only noise being made by Peter as he hangs up his coat and steps into his kitchen. He opens his cabinet, the grip on the little knob staying far longer than it needs to before he opens it and lets the knob go. He reaches up just like you had on your first night. He grips the bottle tightly and sets it on the counter, it makes a noise too, a sort of clinking sound almost. He grimaces as he grabs the neck of the bottle and opens it, the smell stings his nose as he brings it close. His lips kiss the bottle and he swallows some down.

The bottle accompanies Peter to his large and lonely couch, his tight grip around its neck, carrying it carelessly. He takes out the DVD that you left, your favorite movie, he's careful with it as he sets it in the DVD player (something you had ragged on him for not having when you were first there). (Something that he hadn't used since, not until today). (Something he would probably never get rid of now, only being thrown out when he was dead). He stumbles back over to his couch, falling onto it not as clumsily as he could manage but enough to shake up the alcohol in him. He extends his arm, pointing the small remote that came with the thing at the television and pressing play. His arm falls against the couch as the remote leaves his fingers, finding a new home in the arms of the faithful couch.

He watches almost angrily, there isn't anything like it, this emotion Peter feels. Is it really anger? Contempt even? Surely, not toward you. But the drug, toward the drug. ...Right? Or was he even angry? Hateful maybe. Toward you, toward the drug, toward himself. What was this that he was feeling? It's like an ache with no name or possible description. Empty isn't the right word. He's not hollow inside, he's all filled up, some even splashing out of him but what is it? What is this substance, this feeling, this emotion, spilling out of Peter Benjamin Parker? What is this thing that spills past his lips and fills up his head? Is it... you...? Surely not, that's ridiculous!

Peter doesn't notice until now, too focused on the movie he's seen far too many times, but his hands are trembling. His knuckles are a soft red, his veins are all in place, those little clumps of blueish-skin-pigment below the reddened knuckles, his fingers long and intermittently pale the ends a bit darker than the rest, all shake in chorus. He flexes his fist, bending his fingers and splaying them out, then he checks again. They shake just as much as they first did.

And not feel like you'll die around everyone else?

Your hands were shaking, that was the first thing you noticed. It's almost exhilarating, they shook like they did when you first shot up. It was heaven. This was cloud nine. You were in paradise, lost in it. Your head was delirious, your eyes were bleary, your lips trembled as much as your hands, you were about to lose it all and all you could think about was how great this high was. You were about to die outside a house, just on the steps, of a den of drugs, a place filled with people dying just like you were about to, and all you could think about was how great this high was.

Quickly, your thoughts shift to how awful this was. Your body lost control. You fell. Your head split against the concrete of the makeshift porch. Your back fell into the stairs that sat on either side were two dying drug addicts. Foam spilled past your lips and for a brief moment you thought of Peter then you were back to focusing on dying. You couldn't control your body. Your eyes would not work with you to see. They were gone now, they no longer wished to see the world. Your hands wouldn't do what you told them to. Your ears were ringing, there was so much noise, noise, noise! Why couldn't there be quiet!? Everything just needed to stop for a second, so that you could get a grip on things. You would set things straight. You wouldn't be found in places like this anymore. You would die somewhere resectable. But death doesn't care about respect, for him, there is no respectable place to die, and you are just another soul to be collected. Indifference is his gift but the indifference of the junkies you died next to led to searching through your pockets and hands all over your body and privacy violated and nothing left on you but the things they didn't care for. Your ID, some crumpled note you'd shoved deep into your pocket, a few too many wrappers for too many different things, and something else.

I thought I was one in a million

The distant clattering of silverware and private conversations set the stage as Peter sits across from a fine, young gentleman. He holds a menu in front of himself, his hair slicked back something you had told him made him look handsome you had said, his feet nervously sliding back and forth. Words come out of the gentleman's mouth and everything starts to fade out like watching a movie as your eyes blink more and more before you fall asleep.

It didn't go well whatever that was. A date, Peter supposes, an awful date.

Peter holds a large bouquet of red roses. The dark red is contrasted by the white plastic that wraps around them. He holds them with both hands. He shifts his shoulders uncomfortably, his lips moving awkwardly against each other. His stride isn't really a stride, rather a walk but a quick one, like he has somewhere to be. A date perhaps?

Well, thanks for nothing

Peter's stride leads him into a cemetery. He passes headstone after headstone, a few full-on statutes, and some grave markers. The roses are strange in his hands in this cemetery. He shifts his grip on them a few times. His collar feels like it's choking him and sticking his finger under it hasn't done anything. His thoughts don't consume him this time like they usually seem to do; some are seething, others are sad, most are guilty, and a lot are what-ifs. Never helpful, those what-ifs. Peter accidentally passes your grave before stepping back.

He reads the engraving as he always does before taking careful steps over. He sits above your dead body (that's buried several feet down), in front of your headstone (that stares back at him like a gargoyle), and underneath a weeping willow (that he wished he could see you under, not like this, not like this). "Well," Peter starts, setting down the roses, "he was allergic to roses." He sighs. "I miss you." He leans over, resting a hand on top of your headstone and closing his eyes.

He talks some more and if anyone were watching him, they might think he was having quite the conversation with a headstone. He moves his hands and looks at the headstone like a person, making eye contact with it, maybe even willing it to respond. It never does. And it never has. It's too bad you didn't have a spirit, you might have sat underneath that willow, leaning back against it, and watching Peter just for something to do. But you were dead and that was that. There was no coming back from being dead. Your body was buried beneath the earth and now you belonged to her.

Peter groans as he gets to his feet, "Well, buddy," He rests his hand on your headstone, patting it almost like you would a dog, "I've got to get going. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" He pauses, not intentionally but he lets the silence hang in the air in hopes he might get a response. He never gets a response. There is no satisfaction or catharsis for him, only the silence of the whistling wind and the whipping of the willows as they reach as far off their branches as they can. Maybe if he hoped hard enough, one day he would get that long-awaited response and you wouldn't have died for nothing.

Peter's lids are heavy as he tries to blink away sleep. This never works just like all those other things. He always falls asleep; you never answer him. He just wishes you would answer him. Peter's eyes close rather quickly this time and nothing matters but the dream he can feel is real and he feels apart of it.

Thank you

Peter's hand reaches out as you fall, your fingers graze his. He can see the desperate look in your eyes like a dog begging for its life. Your eyes are not only desperate but terrified too. (Like a dog that knows it's going to be put down, he thinks). Some noise comes from you, some words but his ears can't decipher them, like everything in his dreams they are distant, blurry, and unmemorable. He just wants to know what you're screaming. He can see the extension of your jaw, the crinkling and wrinkling in your face, and the raise of your brows but he still can't hear what it is you're saying.

Then the scenery shifts. You slipping past his fingers is no big deal as you fall onto a hospital bed. You look at him all tired like and puppy dog kicked. You are worn out and bruised like a dropped fruit or a childhood blanket. You look like you might be molding. Your face is sunken in, your eyes hauntingly dark and blank, the flesh of your nose beginning to rot away, and the plush of your lips gone now replaced by the hard, cold warning of your teeth. You're missing a few and your gums are starting to turn yellow. Peter can't save you. He can't do anything. He watches as you rot. He tries to leave the chair he's stuck in but he can't, his arms won't even lift off the sides. He can't get to you. You're so far away.

Before your body can fully decompose and shift into sand and fly away in the wind, again, the scenery changes. Paris. He can really only recognize it by the Eiffel Tower. You had talked about it before. A lot. Before you left. Before what happened, happened to you. Peter wanted to go there with you. He never got the chance. At least you had seen it yourself. He finds it strange that he stands in Paris but he can't see you ...like you're gone. But then everyone is screaming and there from the clouds falls a body. Your body is falling, your arms are spread out, and you're limp like a fish. In seconds, your back is pierced by the spire of the Eiffel Tower. Killed by the very thing you love. Or loved. Or did you even love it all? Did you just talk about it?

There is no time for Peter to process seeing someone he loves getting killed right in front of him. He's in an alley now like the one you died in. There are homeless people and drug addicts, drug dealers, and you. You stand there like an angel with your skin glistening thanks to the sun and despite the grime in the air. Peter can't take his eyes off of you. He doesn't want to anyway. He needs to see you like this, happy and aware and bright-eyed and in good standing with life. He can't bear the reality of flesh and bone and blood and six feet underground. It's always been a flaw of his. Feeling those that are dead are not really, not really. They still linger, he feels them, he can't see or hear them but he knows them. He can feel the brush of fingers against his back or the jostle of his loose curl. They live within him, just outside of him, in his fingers and feet and the way his eyes move follows them though he can't really see them there.

A blood-curdling crack stops everything. In a moment, you're lying on the ground with blood running from your forehead down past your chin and drip-dropping against your neck. And Peter is down on his knees in front of you, holding your torso, pulling it up onto his lap, and he holds your head like a kid holds a teddy bear. He strokes your hair as you gurgle up blood. He can't do anything for you. He's stuck. He's not allowed to save you. He is not allowed to save you. You did not need saving. He didn't know what you needed and neither did you. With your head in his arms and his nose pressed against the line of blood down your forehead and your limp body against his thighs, he rocks back and forth, whispering things he doesn't know and you can't hear. You'll be okay. I've got you. I won't leave you. You can't leave me. You will live through this. And your dead, limp body is not motivated to live.

And there you lie, next to him in his bed, your head turned toward him, and you're smiling. The sun shines on both of you; Peter can feel it on his skin. Like being kissed by a god. Like being kissed by you. He's a cat in a sunspot and you're stretching out toward him. Your fingers brush against his cheeks and you're smiling at him. He fills your vision; Peter can see his reflection in your big, beautiful eyes. He wants to kiss you and you move closer. Your eyes stay on him the whole time, if it weren't so beautiful, it'd be unnerving.

You're on top of him now. Your hands -fingers and palms- caress his chest, trace his collarbone, feather down his ribs to his hips. He shudders under your touch. He wants it again. He wants it real. He doesn't realize it isn't yet. On all fours, over Peter's body, you lean down and kiss him. It holds, lasting long enough for him to hold your cheek and to satisfy him if for a fleeting moment. You pull back, your eyes staring into his; he's in love. (You're not real). Your hands trail down his chest again as you sit on top of him. You're just looking at him.

And when Peter turns, now awake, he's alone; you're not there by his side. He reaches out across the sheets like you would reach out if you could. Poor Peter, he doesn't know.

#murder writes #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x m reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x m!reader #peter parker you make me sad

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ghostyoongs · 3 months

Text

「 beautiful stranger - chapter two」

streamer!jschlatt x archivist!fem!reader

warnings for this chapter: angst, lil fluff, finding out you’re pregnant, schlatt tries to help ted, i love harlow and solana

word count: 1.5k

finding out you’re pregnant is hard, but your friends would do anything for you

an: sorry for the late post :< school started up again and my brother’s car broke so now I have to drive all of my siblings everywhere, so my free time is scarce. also ik ted’s irl ex is shae but i feel odd including her. Hope you all enjoy it! <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ ONLY

beautiful stranger masterllist | full masterlist

you throw your bag on the couch and start looking for something to make for dinner, the fourth week of your new job seemingly has flown by. noises start coming from your front door and you sigh loudly, knowing who will be barging in.

“you will not believe what my coworker said to me today! i told him to do something and he replied ‘is it your time of the month or something?’ like that bitch! just because today might be the first day of my period doesn’t give him the right to say that to me.” harlow yelled loudly from your front hallway, throwing her shoes lazily on the shoe rack. “speaking of which, i brought you some pads that i didn’t really like since we’re synced.”

you pull your head out of your pantry, dinner forgotten, and stare at harlow.

“babe? you okay?” she asks, her voice laced with concern. you quickly open your calendar, anxiety riddling your body. you should’ve gotten your period yesterday and your cycle is as regular as it can be.

“y/n babe, please tell me the mystery sex involved a condom.” harlow blinked at you from across the kitchen counter. you look up from your phone and shake your head slowly, tears welling up in your eyes. harlow quickly hugs you, rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head.

“oh babes, i’ll message solana to pick up some things on her way home from work. we’ll get through this. if you are, y’know, do you have a way to contact the presumed baby daddy?” harlow coos in your ear as you shake with sobs, nodding slightly. harlow takes her phone out of her back pocket, quickly sending a message to solana.

“okay, let's get you out of your make-up and work clothes, come with me.” she drags you to your bathroom, having you sit on the toilet while she removes your make-up. it’s silent across the apartment, save for your tears. you both get up and go into your room, you undress quickly, throwing on some random hoodie and sweatpants.

“thank you harls, i don’t know what i would do without you.” you say to her quietly, getting into your bed. your kitten, doctor pepper, mewls in annoyance at being woken up before turning in circles and laying back down once again. harlow sits down on the other side of your bed, petting your hair when you lie down. your eyes slowly flutter shut and you feel yourself drift off to sleep.

˚₊⋅─── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ───⋅ ˚₊

“y/n, wake up honey.” a soft voice wakes you up, lighter than harlow’s. you groan softly and she pushes you lightly.

“sol?” you breathed out, eyes slightly crusted from your dried tears. she rubs your shoulder gingerly, a concerned expression across her face. you get out of bed, trailing behind solana to the ensuite. the pregnancy test is on the counter, glaring at you almost. solana places her hand on your back and you look over at her, eyes glistening.

“harls and i will be in your room, okay? we’re here for you no matter what.”

you shut the bathroom door and take the test, feeling both numb and overwhelmed. with shaky hands and a tight chest you open the bathroom door, not yet looking at the test.

“harls? can you please look?” you stutter out, your stomach in knots. she and solana rush over to you, grabbing the test. solana gives you an almost pitiful look before sneaking around harlow to hold you. you break out into sobs once more, already knowing what the test said.

“oh god, what should i do? i have a whole career ahead of me. i’m only 23 for fuck’s sake. i graduated both high school and college early, i mean sure, my job isn’t all that physically taxing, but it’s an incredibly competitive field. not to mention that they did take a leap of faith with hiring me, most of my coworkers are twice my age!” you rant to your friends, barely breathing in between your sentences.

“i think you should tell him, he has a right to know. i mean from what you told me he nailed that little sucker in there-” you blush at her words before looking at the pregnancy test in her hands, “-and if he doesn’t want anything to do with it then you have solana and i. i think i’d be a great dad. i’ll grow a dick and start learning how to play catch."

you let out a watery chuckle at harlow's bluntness and solana nods from beside you, agreeing with what harlow said.

“and-” solana pipes up, “-maternity leave is a thing. but besides that, you are so intelligent and amazing that they would be fools to fire you over this. both in the legal sense and with the fact that there was a reason they hired you. they sought you out and they decided to take that risk. if your job decides that they no longer want to have you employed then you’ll find something better, i know you will.” solana declaimed loudly, her voice holding an anger you’ve never heard from her towards the end. law school has done wonders for her confidence.

˚₊⋅─── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ───⋅ ˚₊

schlatt’s headphones hit his desk with a clatter and he runs his hands through his hair. his mind runs with self-deprecating thoughts about his most recent video.

“you okay?” ted asks from the open doorway of schlatt’s office, concern lacing his features. he’s been staying with schlatt since he and his girlfriend, eve, broke up. he needed a change of pace and decided to leave the busy city of la.

“yeah, i’m fine. this video is not going well and i can’t figure out what’s up with it.” schlatt spins his chair around to look at ted. the older man looks terrible, the breakup putting a weight on ted. “do you wanna go get lunch?” schlatt asks ted, knowing that he hasn’t been taking much care of himself.

“hm? yeah that sounds good. what are you thinking?”

“i could go for whatever, maybe barbeque?”

ted nods, mind already wandering. schlatt gets up and grabs his wallet and keys, walking down the stairs to the car. the drive there was quiet, schlatt was struggling to find things to talk about, and ted just stared out the window wistfully. as they arrive at the restaurant they both sit down, looking at the menu.

“how are you feeling?” schlatt asks awkwardly, not really knowing how to comfort others.

“it is what it is, it wasn’t healthy to stay together.” ted shrugs his shoulders, not looking up to schlatt.

“you know you can stay here as long as you like. my guestroom is always open.” schlatt smiles at the older man before looking back at the menu, hoping ted knows that schlatt will always be there for him.

˚₊⋅─── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ───⋅ ˚₊

as both boys walk back into schlatt’s home, his phone goes off, the apple ringtone echoing throughout the foyer. his eyebrows furrow in confusion, the phone showing an unknown number, no “scam likely” or number he has saved.

“ted, do you know this number?” schlatt shows ted his screen.

ted shakes his head and schlatt looks at his phone once more before deciding to answer it.

“hello?” schlatt places the phone up to his ear and answers gruffly as he starts walking up the stairs.

“h-hi, jay? it’s mia from epiphany.” the voice is small and quiet and schlatt finds himself smiling at it.

“hi toots, it’s been a while. thought you forgot about me.”

“no, no i didn’t, just got busy with work.”

“looking for another good time?” schlatt smirks as he gets up to his room.

“well…no… i was wondering if we could meet up somewhere soon. i have to talk to you.” your voice was squeaky and riddled with nervousness. you sound like you’ve been crying.

“you okay? because i am not looking to get into a relationship if that’s why you’re calling. don’t get me wrong though toots, i’ll definitely fuck you ag-”

“jay please!” you interrupt him urgently and loudly. the desperation in your voice is evident.

“jesus, calm down,” he says as he unties his shoes and kicks them off.

“i just really need to talk to you, please.”

“alright, fine. does dinner tomorrow work?” he hears you sigh gratefully at his question and he straightens his back up at the noise.

“yeah, yes. that works for me.”

“alright, how about emmer and rye at 7? i’ll make the reservation now.” he questions as he makes a mental note about the time and place.

“that’s fine, i like their pasta.”

“you sure you’re okay?” he asks once more, maybe you want money from him or something? it isn’t the first time a sexual encounter has found out who he was and cost him.

“yeah, i’m fine. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you rush those words before hanging up on him. he lays down on his bed and stares up at the ceiling fan.

he adds your number to his contact and his mind starts to wander. he was sober enough to look at you. he found you attractive, but you were too shy, too squirmy to catch his interest.

“well, tomorrow will be interesting,” he whispers to himself before turning over and closing his eyes.

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #fic: beautiful stranger

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a-strange-familiar · 2 years

Text

HIS MEMORIES - HS

A/n : Oh my god! This is the first time I'm ever writhing. I always enjoyed writhing. I used write journals and small stuff but never posted because of my insecurities. But today I wanted to throw all of them aside and do it.

Please forgive me if there are any mistakes, this is my first time. Please feel free to send your feed back and It would be sooo great of you reblog.

Warnings : lil swearing, angst , mention of sexual intimacy.

Pairing: Actress!Y/n and Harry

Summary: you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other . And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

(*The paragraphs in between in italics are flashbacks *)

part 2. part 3

HOPE YOU ENJOY . <3

You released a sigh and took another sip from your drink.

Industry parties can be fun, at the same time they can be a exhausting and overwhelming, especially for a introvert person like you. You came to the party like an hour ago. First fourty minutes you tried to socialize and stuff. But that's your limit. Your social battery drained and you have no more energy to socialize, but still you have to. Till date you wonder how the hell did you ended up here with your introvert personality. But that's what fate is.

You have been in the industry for a good three years and you did amazing job to prove your self. You got few awards and got nominated to few prestigious awards , amazing following on social media and a good reputation in industry. But still you feel like a new comer when it came to these kinds of situations. You feel so intimidated by all the famous actors, singers and other industry members. You feel so little while comparing to everyone. That's one of the thing that your manager Taylor don't like. She always tells you be confident and believe that you deserve everything you have now and don't belittle yourself.

That's one of things you like in Taylor. She is really confident, and you want atleast ten percent of that.

" Y/N !" your thoughts are immediately got cut by hearing your name from a familiar voice.

You turn and see the person who called you. And you spot none other than of one of your close friends in the industry, Gemma Chan. You smile at her and she gave you big grin back and gave you a big bear hug.

Gemma is one of your first friends in the industry, you did a film with her 2 years back when your new and from then she is your friend and a big sister.

"Look at you girl, you look amazing " she said by giving a once over and looking at your black sheer drees your wearing which have a slit on left which is showing your entire leg perfectly .

You giggled " Thank you, but look at you Babe. You look stunning" She is really stunning, she is wearing a beatifull tight pink bodycon dress.

"So Y/n , how are you? "

"I'm good, I'm amazing actually. "

"I hope I can believe you." She said In a sad tone.

You released a sigh "Gemma , I'm really good. Look at me I'm fine , totally. "

She looks at you in disbelieve but didn't prolong it." If you say so."

"Soo, you ready? I thought you wouldn't be comfortable for this yet . But here you are ."

You had no clue what she is talking about. You chuckled. "Gemma , what are you talking about,? Am I ready for what? "

Her eyes went wide . She opened her mouth to say something but closed again. After few seconds she asked " You didn't know? Shit ! " It was more like she is saying to her self.

" Didn't know what? " you asked in confusion.

"He is going to be his tonight. He will be here by any minute from now."

And with that everything around you came to a halt. All the memories you kept buried in the back of my mind for 6 months hit you back like a flood.

He is going to be here? Of course he will be here . After all he is HARRY FREAKING STYLES. It's your dumbness for thinking that he won't be here. He is one of the biggest and famous singers in the world, obviously HE WILL be in a big party like this.

You look back at Gemma " um... I- I didn't know that"

"Obviously you don't know, or why you'll be here? So now what are you gonna do ?"

"What will I do ? I'm not gonna run from the party because of him ."

" No , not like that . Are you gonna talk to him?"

" I don't know Gem , I genuinely don't know. This is so... fucked up."

She kept her hand on your shoulder "I know Babe. It'll be fine . Don't do anything that you'll regret later . Just do what your heart says"

You looked down at your feet "yeah" you said in a defeated tone.

Then you heard a loud voice calling Gemma . You both turned your head and looked at a guy who is one of Gemma's friends.

She looked back at you and said " Look, I'll be back . Or you can come with me near my friends .I don't want to leave you alone in the corner. "

You shook your head "No ,no it's fine . You go, I'll be fine. I'll come after a bit."

"You sure?" she asked in disbelief.

You just nod.

She just nod back. Give you a small peck on your cheek and left.

With that your alone again with your own thoughts. But this time your more dreadful.

You are going to see the person whom you loved with your entire soul. Your boyfriend for 1year 3 months. A person whom you thought you will spend your entire life with. A person who you still love , and maybe you will love forever.

You are going to see your ex boyfriend whom you still love , after 6 months for the first time after you broke up.

You and Harry met each other for the first time in a premier party of one of your very first films. He was the guest. That's where you met him. You had an undeniable crush on that man for so long. You are a big fan of him . That's one of the reasons why he was there at party that night. Your director know that you love him , so he thought it would be nice gift for you if Harry came.

And it was amazing . Harry is an amazing person not only on stage and infront of camera but also in real life. That night you saw him entering into the party , while giving everyone his signature dimple smile. And it was hard for you to not to fall on your knees at the sight.

You were looking at Harry who is walking into the party. There are many other celebrities around but still he stood out. He is just spreading his charm around. And you feel all the eyes around are on him . I mean can you blame them ?And just like that he was in front of you .

Your director Christopher Nolan. Introduced you to him . Harry worked with him too in past. They were so close and that the reason why Harry came to the party without a second thought.

Once you were introduced to Harry your eyes immediately met with his beautiful jade green eyes . People were right, he has some kind of magnetic attraction in his eyes. He extended his hand towards yours , you hesitantly gave yours. You both shake your hands and instead of leaving your hand he bought your hand to his lips and kissed the back. And all this happened while he is intensely burning his graze on you.

" Nice to meet you Y/n , I saw the trailer and it's fantastic " he said with a smile.

You blushed like an idiot and you mumbled a thank you.

And you both are having a small talk and people around you are also joining in between .

At one point in between the conversation he leaned in near your ear and his soft, delicate, pink lips are almost touching your ear and he said " you look so beautiful, you really are so pretty and I love your drees. " and he leaned back with a smirk plasterd on his lips.

You stood there all stunned trying to hide your blush and shock.

And after your first meeting you both kept in touch and both liked each other. And after a month you both went on your first Date. He came to your place and you both cooked dinner together, danced in the kitchen, and watched a film. In simple words you had a best date ever.

After 2 more dates you were both a couple . He asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes in a heartbeat. And from then everything is a fairytale until it's not. You both kept your relationship in private, and it's a mutual decision. You were new to the industry and you are doing soo good with everything and breaking this news will give a big unnecessary attention. You both didn't want it . You wanted to be known for your work , not for being someone's girlfriend. So you both thought it would be good to keep it private for now and later after few days you can make it public. And only yours and his family members along with some of the close friends know about you both.

You both were madly in love. He said 'l love you ' into the 5th month of your relation. And you said it back immediately because you wanted to say those words for a long time but you thought you will freak him out. So you kept to yourself.

And suddenly you came out of your thoughts . And you realised that your drink is empty. And you want to refill it.

You just started to look around seeing everyone socializing and having fun . And you smile to yourself while looking around.

And then your entire world stopped. You met with those pair of beautiful green orbes that you were love in with once . You still are in love with.

He was looking at you. He is not just looking at you, he is looking into you. Like he is looking into your soul. His expression is unreadable. You can't figure out what he was thinking.

How long has he been here ? Is he looking at you for so long? Are you that lost in your thoughts that you didn't even see him.?

Whatever it is, now he is here. Standing a few feet distance from you looking at you while having a conversation with someone.

You can't take this any more. You just can't.

While looking at him all the memories came back. All His memories came back.

You remember the days when you both made love . When he was deep inside you , his lips to your ear breathing heavily and wishpering sweet nothings into your ear.

You remember the days when you both used to cook together and dance in the kitchen.

You remember the lazy Sunday mornings when you both were lazy to get up early. He used to refuse to get up and you both ended being in bed till noon.

You remember taking showers together, and baths. You remember him massaging your scalp with your favorite shampoo.

You remember when he said 'I love you' for the first time.

You remember the times when he used to sleep on you chest and your hand tangled in his curls gently massaging it. And the way he used to whine and complain when you stopped.

You remember the the way he used to sleep on your chest and suck at your nipples even when your not having sex. It helped him to sleep better.

You remember the way you both used miss each other because you were far from each other at the other end of the world for work.

You remember your late night talking in the balcony, because he knew exactly how much you love it.

You remember breaking up with him , both of you crying and bawling. You asking him to not to leave you. Begging him to be with you.

You remember you first kiss and your last one. And all the once in between. You remember each and everything you did together.

You remember everything, because you didn't forget anything.

Fuck . Seeing him now you can't take it anymore. All those memories are coming back.

You waited for him. You know why he broke up with you . He thought he did what's best for you, but that's not his decision to make. You waited for him all these months , you thought he will come back and take you back to him . But that never happened.

Actually you still are waiting.

You tried to move on but couldn't. How are you supposed to move on when a piece of your heart will always beat for him , no matter what ?

All the pain and sadness turned into anger. You can't take it anymore. But there is one question in your mind .

'If he come and apologise now and asked you to come back , will you? '

And you can't be here, you made your way to the balcony, which is your spot at any party. If anyone wants to find you they should first come to the balcony.

Once you entered into the balcony cold winter air hit your face. And you stand there admiring the nature. While you stand there you can't help but think about him.

You and Harry are sleeping on his bed. You are sleeping on your back and his head on your chest just the way you both like. His hands are wrapped around your waist and your hands are in his beautiful chocolate brown curls , massaging .

You both are in comfortable silence, you can hear nothing other than your soft breathings. The room is dimly lit , but you can still see his features very well.

"Baby? " He was the first one to break the silence.

You hummed back in answer.

He lifted his head so that your eyes are meeting , you give him a small smile.

"I want to tell you something, but you can't freak out" He looked nervous.

And you were nervous too , you don't know what he was about to tell you.

"What is it baby? You can tell me what's wrong "

He looks soo nervous, like he is about to break down. But he took a long breath and said those three words which you are dreading to say for soo long and wanted to hear for so long.

"I love you , Y/n"

You were so shocked to hear him say that. Tears are already building in your eyes. He got more nervous by the lack of your reply . He quickly got up and tried to loosen the situation.

"You don't have to say it back , I just wanted to say you because I mean it .I wanted to say this for so long but didn't have enough courage. But you don't have say it back. Take your time. I'll wait, I'm right here. I-"

You cut his rambling by slaming your lips to his , your action caught him off guard but quickly he reciprocated with same amount of passion. You both kissed for so long and you both were out of breath. You rested your forehead against his . You both are looking into each other's eyes and breathing heavily.

"I love you too , Harry . I love soo much. " You confesed out of breath.

"You do ?" He asked you in disbelief.

You just nod and pecked his lips.

He grins ear to ear " say it again, please baby I want to hear it again "

You smile so wide "I love you Harry , I love you soo fucking much"

He closed his eyes let a deep sigh in content. "I can't get enough of you , I love you, baby"

Your thoughts are abundantly stopped by the sound of a pair of foot steps. You don't even have to look back to see it's him. You know it's him. And by every step he takes his familiar perfume is hitting your nose. And you swallow the lump in your throat.

You are going to do this . You are not weak. You can face him and talk.

And when the foot steps came to a halt. You can feel a presence behind you . You took a long breath and turned around to see your Harry. Maybe not yours.

You met with his beautiful face and magnetic green eyes. Again you can't read his expression. It's not cold , but its not warm too.

He opened his mouth and it felt like heaven to hear his voice for the first time in 6 months .

" Hey Y/n".

~~~

A/n : I felt it here as an open ending, you can imagine what ever you want or if you want a part 2 please let me know . I have idea but don't know if you guys want to read or not.

Thank you for reading this. It meant a lot for taking your time and reading it. Please don't mind my mistakes. This is my first time writing. Feel free to send feed back. It means a lot for me if you hit reblog.

~~~

Please like and reblog. It will give me motivation to me to write more.

Thank you. Lots of love <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #actress!reader #actress

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bitchyglitterfox · 1 year

Text

Sunday Morning Rain Is Pouring - S. Reid x Reader

Warnings: angst, happy endings, spoilers for season 12

*****

You were sitting in your little book corner, the wide window helps you watch the rain fall from the sky. Spencer has been in prison for almost 3 months now and the depression you are currently feeling is being reflected by the weather. Usually when the depression hit you would try to distract yourself, reading books he would recommend to you or watching JJ’s boys.

The last time you had seen him you left in tears.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here between the trial and getting me out of here. I—I can’t keep holding you back,” his voice is soft and quiet. You can see the bruise forming in his eye. It squeezes at your heart that he’s been hurt in this god forsaken place, where he doesn’t belong.

“You aren’t holding me back, when you first got back into the states I told you I would be with you through this whole thing. I love you so much Spence, don’t push me away please,” you say as tears begin to well into your eyes, you desperately want to grab him—hold him and kiss him—and never let go but the rules of the prison wouldn’t allow it.

“I think we need to break up, you can’t keep waiting around for someone who can’t even hold you or kiss you. I love you so much but I have to let you go,” Spencer can’t look you in the eyes while he says this.

“No you don’t get to throw two years of our lives away because you think it’s what’s best. I won’t let you. I love you so much and I will fight for us both even if you can’t right now. I love you Spencer. Forever and a day! I will fight for us.”

That had been a conversation from 2 weeks ago, since then you have been helping with his case even if you didn’t work for the FBI, but it was hard and it broke your heart whenever something came up to a dead end, which is why you were in the current position.

Your ears perk up when you hear the front door unlock. You assume it’s JJ since she has your spare since she had been keeping an eye on you for the past few months. You don’t turn your head to the sound because she knows how you get sometimes especially when it rains.

When the door closes however you turn your head and tears in your eyes begin to form when you see Spencer standing in the doorway of your apartment. You stand up on shaky legs and run towards him, you grip tightly onto his clothes fearing if you let go he might just disappear and this would all actually be a dream. Your sobs racked through you, you kept your face in his chest as he rubbed your back and gently kissed your forehead.

“H-how, when did you get out?” You ask, pulling away, looking up into his own tear ridden eyes.

“It was these girls from previous cases whose names are Lindsey Vaugh and Cat Adams, they um, they took my mom and framed me as a revenge plot,”

“Oh Spence,” you hold him closer, “all that matters now is that you are safe, your mom is safe and you are home,”

“I’m so sorry I said those things to you while I was in there, I didn’t mean them, I love you so much.” his voice wavers. You take his face in your hands and look up at him.

“I know. I told you I would fight for both of us until you could fight for us as well.”

You share a sweet kiss and go to make him coffee. Content now that he was home and free from the charges.

*****

A/n: finally finished season 12 and my heart couldn’t take Spence in jail 😭

#bitchyglitterfox writes #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #Spencer Reid #matthew grey gubler #Matthew grey gubler characters

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chosovixen · 2 years

Photo

Always Comes to Light

Summary: you and eddie try to figure out a way to tell your family the dark secret that's been eating you up inside

Warnings!!: dark theme, 18+, mature theme, mentions of r*pe, reader is 19, creepy/aggressive stepbrother, abuse, angst/comfort ending

Word count: 1.7k

pt.1 here

feedback and reblogs are appreciated!!

As Eddie paced the room, hands roughly running through his hair, he couldn't help himself. He was shocked—more so concerned after what you just told him.

"Oh my God. Oh my God!" Eddie cried out.

"Keep your voice down, please," you begged, "someone might hear."

He halted for a moment as if he was considering something—then, slowly shifting his gaze to you, you couldn't tell what he was thinking, but to you, he looked disgusted, maybe even disappointed. How could you want to keep this quiet?

"Look, I know you're probably repulsed by me, but—"

"What! I could never", he hiccuped. "You're an amazing person when you're comfortable, and I...I should have noticed a change when he came around. Your behavior was off, w—we..we were having so much fun, and then you got really quiet. I—'m such an idiot." he stuttered, panic tainting his voice.

Eddie hurried to you, quickly dropping to his knees. He picked up your hand softly, settling it in his warm palm before placing his other on top of yours—patting it dearly, he cautiously laid his head on your lap and sighed. You could feel him trembling, which made you nervous. The lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as you tried painstakingly to stop yourself from crying—he was expressing so much tenderness and care even though he barely knew you. You didn't want anyone to find out like this—it was wrong, and you were ashamed, so you couldn't help but hide it and save everyone, including yourself, the embarrassment.

"It's okay, and I'm okay. I just don't know what to do," you whispered while moving your free hand to his head, petting his luscious brown curls ever so softly.

Eddie lifted his head and peeked up at you; tears filled his eyes—and you could hear him sniffle as he tried to utter a simple sentence. You were a little confused as to why he was crying, showing sympathy was one thing, but full-on crying caught you off guard, and you honestly didn't know how to react.

"You have to tell someone," he spoke.

"Why are you crying, Eddie?"

"Please tell someone."

"I can't."

"You have to, y/n." his voice was stern, but you managed to hear the shakiness lurching through.

You didn't know who to tell now that you thought about it. But—of course, in reality, telling anyone that you've been sleeping with your stepbrother would sound terrible. Still, Eddie believes that because Johnathan took advantage of you multiple times—there'd be some leniency.

"I know you're scared, but I'll be here, I promise." he sounded reassuring, but you still weren't confident. You were scared—not of Johnathan but of all the damage you created; this would destroy your mother's marriage, her life, and everything she'd tried to build—you never wanted anything else but her to be happy. Taking a deep breath, you wondered if maybe you had been a little wiser and seen the signs you wouldn't be in this mess—you wanted so bad to cry, scream and throw things because now you've added a second person into your predicament, but it wouldn't change the outcome.

"If I do this, could you tell me why you're crying?"

"The reason I'm crying is why you should be doing this, honestly." he finished with a low chuckle.

"Oh, now I'm interested."

You both shared a sweet smile; it was quiet, but nothing needed to be said as you just sat in silence and enjoyed each other's presence. Unfortunately, there weren't many people in your life that you could turn to and say any and everything to besides Kim—but she lived far away, and you could only contact her on limited time. So now Eddie would be added to the list of unreachable people.

As the sun began to peer through the curtain, you hadn't realized how long you and Eddie had been talking—it was such an intense remembrance that you had forgotten all about time; taking a peek at the alarm clock, it read 6:25 a.m.

So early. You thought. Just looking at the time alone made you yawn.

"I guess you would be tired, yeah?" he stretched out his arms. You could tell he was a little tired, too, with the way his eyes sunk in a bit, so you offered him a stay—he was deep in thought, and you could see him scrunch his eyebrows together as he dwindled with his fingers—you grabbed his shoulders playfully and told him he didn't need to stay if he didn't want to.

"It's not that. I want to stay and make sure you're okay, but I also don't want to be a burden," he admitted.

"A burden?"

"Yeah, you're going through a lot, and I don't know if you want to be alone for some time." he sounded as if he was trying to find the right words, not wanting to hinder any progress you two had made.

"Eddie, whatever you want to do, I'll tell you if I'm comfortable. Either way, I asked if you wanted to stay." you giggled. However, he still pondered the proposal, so you had to guide him to the bed and sit him down physically. When you reached the other side, you plopped down on the bed before resting your head on the chilled pillow, waiting for him.

"Take off your shoes, will ya."

"Yes, ma'am." he kicked off his shoes, then finished with a grunt as he took off his socks, placing his bare feet up onto the bed. You brought your hand up to your nose, slightly pinching it—as you scrunched your face at him.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad. I made sure to scrub them today." he pouted, head hanging low as he tried to defend himself. Your jaw dropped, and your hand laid flat on the bed as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I was joking, Eddie!!" You shook your head, clasping your hand over your mouth.

"Well...ignore that."

He laughed, and it was so contagious that you couldn't help but share a laugh too.

•.¸¸.• •.¸¸.•

A rapid tap on your shoulder woke you up; squirming around, you stretched, and your feet fluttered as you positioned yourself to sit up. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Eddie smiling up at you.

"Good morning." he yawned, stretching and sitting up as well. You peaked at the clock—1:42 p.m.

"Yeah, good morning," you replied sarcastically.

Making your way to the bathroom, Eddie trialed along sluggishly. You handed Eddie a new toothbrush from the cabinet and grabbed yours—squeezing a bit of toothpaste before giving him the tube. You watched in the mirror as he sleepily brushed his teeth; poking his cheek playfully, he jumped, looking around like a lost puppy—a simple 'hmm' was all he could muster. Then, after bending down to spit out the mint-flavored paste, you looked back at him through the mirror to show him your pearly whites. Without missing a beat, he repeated your actions, making you giggle—just as you reached the dresser, Eddie tapped you on the shoulder.

"So...what's the plan today?" he asked.

"Um, I'm not sure," you replied as you nonchalantly pulled a t-shirt from the drawer. Eddie looked at you, defeated.

"Come on—" he whined.

"Look, I know you think it's just a simple task to get over, but it's really not. First, I have to walk downstairs and tell my family that I've been sleeping with my stepbrother for a long time, and then I have to tell them he took advantage of me during half of it. So please just let me think." you advised. It was almost a yell but quiet enough for only Eddie to hear it.

"I'm sorry; I just want you to be safe." Eddie looked away shamefully; he didn't want to rush you, but he also cared about your well-being and wanted you to see that.

"No, I'm sorry—I." your eyes started to swell. "I don't know what to do, Eddie." you broke down crying as you finished; your knees hit the hardwood floor painfully, but you could care less as you grasped the fabric covering your chest tightly, trying to calm yourself. Eddie almost flinched, and goosebumps began to spread across his arms as he stood staring at you—you looked so fragile and lost, and it reminded him of his dearest friend(may she rest in peace).

You felt warm arms wrap around your body, pulling you in tightly as you hiccuped and choked out tears. "You're gonna be okay, Clover, just stay with me," he said while massaging your head delicately—you froze, unsure if you heard things correctly; maybe it was the loud crying, so you tried suppressing your cry as you sniffled uncontrollably. "If you had just come to me sooner, I could've helped." you felt him grip you tighter, a little too tight.

"Eddie?" you whispered; nothing. He kept holding you tight.

"Eddie!" he jolted.

"Yes."

"You okay?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good." you pulled off him wanting to look at his face; you couldn't get much detail as he turned away from you—he was a bit red from what you could capture, and his eyes were glossy as they scanned the room vigorously as if he was unaware of something. But, just hearing how he voiced the name alone let you know something was up; not wanting to press further, you let it go. He'd let you know when he was comfortable.

•.¸¸.• •.¸¸.•

There was a knock on your door.

"Hey! Even pregnant ladies don't sleep that much." it was Kim, yelling from the other side.

"I'll be out in a minute!" you yelled back.

You and Eddie had been discussing how you'd tell your parents; at first, you only wanted to speak to your mother about it, but he convinced you that both of them needed to hear it; he also promised that he'd be with you the whole step of the way making sure nothing went wrong.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I guess so." as you stood in front of the door, you hesitated. There was no going back now; everything you had done in the darkness was coming forward to the light, and this was your reality.

reblog!!

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #angst #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #dark theme #eddie munson angst #eddie muson fic #joseph quinn angst #some comfort #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 3 months

Text

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 22

Warnings: angst heavy, mentions of torture, fear, arguing, Astarion being himself

Summary: Trust is hard won.

Notes: An angsty one today, folks, but they make up for it in the end. I'll fully admit, the editing on this one was a bit half-assed (going through some health issues yet again), so if anything stands out to you, feel free to point it out! <3 -D

Read on ao3 here!

Previous chapter | First chapter

Stopping just outside their room door, Astarion takes a moment to just listen.

And he hears nothing.

Granted, he’s not totally sure what form her anger would take-she’s not angry often. Or at least, she’s not angry outside of dealing with assholes they’re trying to kill, anyway.

Would her anger be a soft, silent, tense thing? Pursed lips and doing tasks a little more forcefully than strictly needed, curt words and eyes darting anywhere but at him? (Like with Nere, he thinks.)

Or would it be a storm this time, shouting and throwing the most breakable items she could get her hands on?

He almost snorts out loud. No, that last one isn’t like his kitten. Still, he hates it when she’s mad at him. It makes his guts all squirmy.

Taking a deep breath, he opens the door and steps inside.

His eyes immediately find the small black cat curled up on one of the pillows on the bed. Sighing softly as he closes the door, he pulls his boots off and crosses the room, climbing onto the mattress and sitting with his back against the wall. “You’re not yelling, so I’ll take it.”

His tadpole wriggles faintly, and her voice filters into his mind. No point.

“Oh? Why’s that?” he asks softly.

Because it won’t change anything.

His brow furrows. “What does that mean?”

She’s quiet a long moment. Then, she sits up, her hazel eyes staring up at him as she makes nervous biscuits on the pillow. When I first got up here, I was so angry. I remember after we met Raphael for the first time, you were proud of me for turning down his offer. I thought that meant that you didn’t want anything to do with what he could offer us. But down there…my first thought was of how hypocritical you seemed. You wouldn’t take the offer when we all benefitted, but if it’s just you, no problem?

He can’t help a wince. “Darling, I-”

No, please let me finish.

He falls silent, lips pursed, watching her as she stares at him.

Then I realized that you’ve probably been thinking about asking him about your scars since we met him. He’s a devil who deals in contracts; if anyone would know what yours is for, it would be him.

“...you’re not wrong,” he says slowly.

I get it. I really do. Your reasoning makes sense. But you…you never told me. You never mentioned once that you wanted to do that, to try and make a deal for that. Why?

Guilt is roiling in his veins. “You have so much already on your plate, kitten, I didn’t want to add to your worries.”

Her eyes narrow. Some of the scruff on the back of her neck rises. So instead, you keep me in the dark and then spring it on me? You think that’s any better? Don’t bullshit me, Astarion. The reason you didn’t tell me was because you were worried I would have tried to talk you out of it.

“Wouldn’t you have?” he replies, crossing his arms. “You’re not exactly the kind for taking the choice that’s anything less than good.”

Her look turns into a full-on glare. And I’ve told you why that is! Back in the forest, weeks ago, I told you why I do my best to stay kind!

“Yes, you did, and trust me when I say it’s one of the things I admire about you,” he all but spits. “But not all of us have that luxury! Not every choice is going to have a good outcome!”

You really think I don’t get that?! Once again, being kind doesn’t mean I’m naive! I’ve seen my share of shit living in Baldur’s Gate. But the right and wrong of your decision isn’t the gods-damned point!

“Then what is?!” he snaps.

Her form ripples, and in a blink Sable is herself before him, eyes overbright with tears and a deep, aching sadness. “The point,” she whispers thickly, “is that you don’t trust me enough to tell me about your plans.” His eyes widen. “You don’t trust me to have your back, no matter what I think of your choices. After everything that’s happened so far, you still don’t trust me.”

He stares at her; a tear streaks down her cheek, and she dashes it away. “I…kitten, I…of course I-”

“Don’t. Don’t keep trying to bullshit me, Astarion,” she says, her voice small. “Because I get it. After two hundred years of being tortured, I wouldn’t trust easily either. But…you’ve gotta learn how to trust people again. Or else, when all of this is over, you’ll end up completely alone.”

He stares at her. His lips part, but no words come out. She’s not wrong, but he can’t force himself to say out loud that she’s right. Because where would that leave him? Taking the plunge into trusting someone like that terrifies him to the point of…of…

But that’s it, isn’t it? He can’t speak…but he could feel.

Which means so could she.

His hand shoots out, cupping around the back of her head, and he pulls her to him. He pushes his forehead against hers, and pushes into her mind through their tadpole link.

“Astar-”

His name cuts off with a gasp as sensations flood into her.

If I follow his orders he says he’ll give me fresh rat tonight but if I fail he’ll flay open my chest again but the last time he said that he changed his mind and flayed me anyway just because he felt like it. The remembered misery of his skin being cut off in strips makes Sable choke and writhe on his lap. Can’t know which one he’ll pick but I can’t disobey either. Can’t trust anyone in this house not to turn me over to him if I disobey about anything, and no one can trust me because I’d do the same. The only thing I can trust is that there’ll be pain pain pain pain PAIN-

She shrieks as the agony of centuries of torment and torture is pushed into her mind, and she breaks away, slamming the mental connection shut and throwing herself off his lap. She all but cowers in the corner, curling up trembling and covering her head with her arms. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry,” she gasps over and over.

“Words are so easy, aren’t they?” he sneers, rage and terror and guilt, so much guilt, warring within him. And the guilt just pisses him off more. He stands, staring at her, his hands balling into fists by his sides. “You can tell someone what to do until you’re blue in the fucking face, but actually doing it?” He shakes his head, and he gestures to his chest. “I want to trust you, Sable! More than anything, I want to trust you. You’re the first person in two hundred years at least that I’ve let in at all! I’m so sorry if my progress isn’t fast enough for your liking!”

He storms out, slamming the door behind him. But he doesn’t make it far enough away before his enhanced hearing picks up his kitten bursting into tears.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

The cool night air stirs the ends of Sable’s hair, cools her overheated face and sore eyes. She sits on the edge of a balcony, her legs through the rungs of the railing, her forehead pressed to one. Even though it’s the middle of the night at this point, she can hear various Harpers moving around, working on various tasks.

But Sable just stares off into the dark, not really seeing anything. She can’t stop replaying what happened earlier, over and over, in her mind. She feels awful. Guilt writhes in her guts, in her veins, like snakes through burrows.

He probably hates me now, she thinks miserably, closing her eyes. And I don’t blame him. I knew he’d suffered, but I didn’t know it was that bad…He never let on that it was that bad…

She’s not sure how long she sits there, how long she wallows in her pain. Eventually, a voice cuts through her thoughts. “Why are you not asleep?” Jaheira. “You have much to do tomorrow.”

She turns to look at her, and the older woman stops dead in surprise. Red eyes holding an aching sadness, tear tracks, blotchy, flushed face under the freckles…”S-Sorry, Jaheria, I-I don’t think I’ll be sleeping.”

“Little one, what has happened?” Jaheira asks, quickly coming over to sit beside her.

Sable’s chin trembles as she fights not to try again as her all-but-adopted mother gently rubs her back. Slowly, the story comes out, from the time that she met Astarion until now. “...and I-I’m just a fucking idiot to say something like that to him,” she sobs.

Jaheira sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around the young elf. “Oh, my child…you’ve chosen to give your heart to an incredibly complicated man. Anyone involved with Szarr knows nothing but pain and despair. They must fight and plot and scheme just to avoid worse than they already get. A man like your Astarion, after so much time under that yoke, would have all but forgotten how to love.”

Sable shakes her head, pulling back and looking earnestly up into the older druid’s eyes. “He can. He can! I’ve seen it! He wants so much to heal. But it’s going to take more time than what he’s had so far and I…I pushed him. I pushed him on it instead of letting things go at his pace and…and…”

Jaheira’s eyebrow raises. “You may have pushed him, but he’s trying to make a deal with a devil. You are only trying to protect him from that.”

“I know…I know, but…” She swallows thickly. “But what he chooses to do should be his choice. I don’t have the right to take that away from him.”

“You’re not wrong, my smart child,” the Harper leader says fondly. “People must be free to make their own choices, even if the consequences will later bite them in the arse.” She brushes a fond kiss over Sable’s hair. “Your heart was in the right place, though, and that matters. I think he was much too harsh on you.”

Sable thinks about it, and she shakes her head. “I don’t think so. What he’s been through…it honestly can’t be described.” She shivers, remembering the pain pushed through their connection. “Without the tadpoles, no one else can really know what he’s been through. But I felt it. I…” She shudders, hard, words locked behind a sudden lump in her throat.

Jaheira gently shushes her, stroking her hair. “I believe you, my child. I can only begin to guess what horrors Szarr put him through.” She pauses, looking down at the younger druid. “The question now is, what do you want to do?”

Sable sighs, rubbing absently at the tear tracks dried onto her face. “I don’t know. I want to talk to him, to apologize, but…”

“Ah, there you are.” Both women turn their heads to see Astarion standing there, a very small smile on his lips but his eyes wary. “You weren’t in our room anymore. I…” His eyes widen when he sees the state Sable is in, and he drops his gaze. “I’m…well. I’ll leave you be.”

“No, you stay. I was just going.” Jaheira gives Sable a gently stern look, then stands and walks inside. As she passes Astarion, she gives him a similar look, before disappearing into the inn.

Astarion swallows as Sable scrambles to her feet. The vampire approaches, slowly, stepping up beside her but looking out over the river. “I was…worried when I couldn’t find you. I thought I’d scared you off for good.”

Her breath catches, and she shakes her head. “No. You…y-you won’t get rid of me that easily.”

He barks a humorless laugh. “You thought that was easy? You’re either brave or stupid. Possibly both.”

She smiles faintly. “Probably both.” His lips curve, unable to help the fond look. It’s quiet for a bit, the two looking out over the water, at the shield protecting this place from the darkness. “...Astarion. I’m so sorry,” she finally whispers. Her hands tighten around the railing. “You’re free to make your own choices. And while I’m also free to tell you exactly what I think about those choices, I want…I want to be there for you. No matter what you choose. It’s like…when we were in the Underdark, and you told me that having someone around to tell you the unsavory options is important. Well, the opposite is true too. But…” She swallows thickly. “But I went about it really badly. I’m so sorry for making you think you weren’t healing fast enough. That isn’t what I thought at all! The fact that you’ve let me in-”

“Sable.” She turns her head to look up at him, just in time for his lips to press gently to hers. This kiss is tender, gentle in a way he’s never been. It’s almost chaste in a way his kisses never are. She shudders, and she’s not sure why. Relief, maybe? Relief that he doesn’t hate her.

He pulls away, and he smiles when she leans forward, almost chasing his lips. His fingers travel softly over her jaw. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry too. I never should have shown you.”

She shakes her head. “No, I…in a weird way, Astarion, I’m glad you did. Because I understand you better now.”

“...still. I never want to hurt you like that. Most people I don’t give two shits about. But you…” His eyes soften, depthless crimson pools. “I’d burn the world for you.”

She smiles, offering him her hand. “How about you help me save it instead?”

He blinks at her, before he laughs and takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Oh, I suppose. A lot less fun, honestly, but since it’s you asking…”

She smothers a giggle, and she lays her head on his shoulder, feeling the weight lifting from her chest. She hasn’t said half the things that she wants to, but…she has a feeling he understands.

“You know, I think we’re good for each other in that way,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing softly over the inner edge of her hand.

“Hm?” she replies, her eyes closed, exhaustion beginning to set in.

“About choices. Seeing all sides of a problem.”

Sable smiles. “Will you be the devil on my shoulder, Astarion?”

He grins, pressing his lips to her forehead before answering, “Only if you’ll be the celestial on mine.”

She laughs and wraps her arms around him. “Deal.”

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #my writing

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cupoftaae · 1 year

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Forever and a day (KTH x READER) series♡ •liar liar• chapter 2

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: a little under 5k

Chapter warnings: smut!!! Confusing emotions, so much angst omg. Tae is kinda an idiot. You’re confused. It’s a mess. Also not a warning but we see chaeyoung and dahyun!!

Read part one https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/cupoftaae/705377053503094784

A/N

Ok so ...wow!! I didn’t expect so many people to enjoy this story. I kinda threw it together but I’m beginning to really fall in love with writing it. Thank you all so much for reading, liking and reblogging. It seriously means so much to me. •••Tag list is open so if you wish to be tagged with each new chapter please feel free to lmk. •• happy reading!!!

—————

Taehyung and you had continued to watch movies throughout the evening, eventually moving back into your room to lay down, because you were complaining of back pain from leaning against the couch.

“Go refill this” You laughed and shoved the popcorn bowl into taehyungs chest. “God you are so aggressive, remind me why I decided to be your roommate?” He spoke louder as his footsteps led him into the kitchen. “Because I’m adorable, now shut up and be quick, I’m gonna pick my own choice of movie” you spoke, throwing the blankets over you and turning the lights off.

When taehyung had entered the room again he stood at the doorway and peered over at you, you looked so cute under a mountain of blankets, bangs hanging messily over your forehead as you appeared to be extremely invested in whatever was on tv. “What?” You spoke, looking at him as he walked over, he laughed and shook his head. “Why are we sitting in pitch black? Did we forget to pay the electric bill?” Taehyung sneered as you pulled him into the bed. “Aww are you scared of the dark tae?” He scoffed and sat down, pulling his body under the covers as well. “Don’t worry I’ll protect you” you joked and wrapped your body against his, leaning into his side. His breath hitched, silently cursing himself for feeling so awkward around you. He felt like he was the one making it weird.

A few minutes had past when he felt your eyes staring at him. “Are you not paying attention?” He asked, without looking down at you. “Oh, I’m paying attention....” you mumbled, finger picked up to drag along his jaw and across his nose, an action that you always did with him, but haven’t done for a while....for, well, obvious reasons. “Y/n” he spoke sternly, shifting uncomfortably, he couldn’t be the only one seeing the wrongness in this. He was laying in bed with someone else’s girlfriend, a girl he was IN LOVE WITH. You sighed deeply, hot air brushing against his neck as you pushed yourself up to his ear. “this movie is boring...let’s do something” You nearly whispered, tae wanted to punch himself for how fast he got hard. This was definitely wrong, no denying it. “Y/n...” he turned his head to you, and that’s when your lips met his. Taehyung would be lying to say he pushed away, how could he? You were the one in a relationship, technically he was doing nothing wrong!

“Hmmm missed you” you moaned into his mouth before pulling the covers back and moving to straddle his thigh. Taehyungs hands moved from your waist to your ass, pressing it against him harder as he buried his face into your neck. “This is wrong”

He mumbled, a slight bite to your earlobe. “Then why are you hard, you lair” you teased, taking his hands off your waist to pull back, pulling your shift off your body and tossing it to the side. Taehyung was sitting against the headboard, practically sweating as he watched you. When did you start buying lingerie bras? When the two of you hooked up, you always wore a sports bra of some sort. Something about just wearing lingerie turned him on even more for some reason, maybe because it was red. Somewhere in the back of his mind he believed you wore it tonight for him. “You’re so pretty, baby” he spoke quietly, watching as you carefully picked up his hands and pressed them against your chest, biting your lip as you watched his reaction. “Y/n, I....we shouldn’t be doing this” he stuttered, seconds away from giving into temptation. “baby please, touch me, please baby” you practically moaned as you leaned against him further, legs digging into the mattress on either side of his thigh. “I don’t care I don’t” you shook your head, trying to convince him you wanted this. “It’s ok” you affirmed, watching the cogs turn in his head.

Without saying anything, taehyung leaned forward to kiss you once more, this time rather harshly. His hands gripped your breasts before sliding their way around to find the clasp. He quickly undid it before throwing it somewhere off the bed, he can Thank the experience he’s had with you for that trick.

You moaned loudly as he pressed his mouth against your breast, swirling his tongue around slowly as he stimulated your nipple. “Tae...” you pushed your hands against him, practically melting into his touch. His other hand lifted back to the other breast, running his finger over the delicate center as you hummed contently. You were becoming needier by the minute, rocking your hips slowly against his leg, throwing your head back slightly.

“Shit baby, ride my thigh” taehyung grunted and ran his hands to unbutton your jeans, moving you up as he slid them off. You watched his fingers cling onto the sides of your underwear, taking them off with a swift motion.

“You’re so fucking wet” he mumbled, running two fingers over your folds, moving up to press against your clit. “Ah!” You leaned forward, hands gripping his shoulders. He pulled his hand away to position you over his thigh, pulling you down once you moved closer. “Mmmmm” you moaned, beginning to rock carefully against him. “Feels good baby” you sighed, feeling his mouth begin to attack yours, tongues practically down each others throats. His deep grunts were enough to leave your body vibrating. “Ta-ah! Fuck!” You dug your nails into his shoulder when he pushed his thigh up, helping you move more swiftly. “Is that good, angel?” He asked so teasingly. “God, you’re nasty” his fingers pushed into your thighs. “I should’ve fucked you first but” he began, “this, this is more enjoyable”

“Shit, I’m gonna cum” You whined, picking the pace up as your grind your bare cunt against his thigh. “Fuck! fuck, Ah-“ you moaned loudly into the air as your orgasm crashed over you, face falling into his shoulder as you pressed up to him, pathetic whines filling into his ear, “taehyung” You whimpered

Taehyungs eyes shot open when he realized what had happened. Suddenly he was awake, sitting behind you on the couch, incredibly hard. Holy shit. He just had a wet dream...ABOUT YOU.

Quickly sitting up, he watched your expression. Ok, you were still asleep. He made his way to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, god he was an awful person. This is his best friend, this was you, and he just dreamt of getting you off with his thigh when you have your boyfriend coming to visit in less than 12 hours.

This shit was getting worse by the minute, perhaps in times like these he wishes the two of you never started hooking up in the first place.

—

“Why’d you leave last night?” You asked, watching taehyung walk into the kitchen. “Oh...i was getting sore laying on the couch, I’m too tall to sleep there” he mumbled as he watched you prepare kimchi for later.

You nodded in understanding as you turned around to reach for some pots and dishes. He watched as your stretched your back, shirt hugging your curves just right. He had to look away, how could he even be in your presence right now after what occurred just a few hours ago. He could only imagine how much of a pervert you’d think he is if you knew.

“Can you help me?” You asked, watching tae spring over to help grab a few plates from the top shelf. “Thank you” You mutter, continuing your cooking. “Oh by the way your parents called me”

Tae turned around to see you, “what?” He seemed confused. “They said they are coming to Seoul in 2 weeks and wanted to plan a dinner with us” you shrugged, turning to him. “I think that’s nice taehyung”

“It’s nice...but I don’t know” he plucked at the collar of his shirt. “y/n, Last time I spoke with them wasn’t very enjoyable for either of us I think”

About a year ago, taehyung got into a fight with his parents about dropping out of college, he works for a business Corp now, which he thoroughly enjoys because he can work in office or at home whenever he chooses. However his parents are disappointed in him not becoming a doctor like they had hoped, and they actually ended up blaming you for his lack of studious determination. You were in college to become a theatre actress, it was your major anyway. You knew that this is what you had wanted for a long time, but in the eyes of his parents, they saw it as useless. But you knew you’d rather make less money and be happy than he unhappy and make lots of money.

“It’s been a while though, and who knows? Maybe they want to apologize for being wrong!” You giggle as you watched him open the fridge.

Taehyung shrugged before looking at a pack of desserts, reaching his hand to look at the labels. “Don’t touch those” you whine, knowing how much of a snack thief he is. “They are for later” you pat his back as he pouts, making your heart soar. “When is he coming over?” He asks. “It’s not just him coming, I invited some other girls from my theatre class too, but they are coming at 1” you mumble, too focused on cooking.

Tae looked at the clock, it was 11:50, he only had a little over an hour to get ready. “Okay, let me know if you need help with anything” he spoke cheeringly as he left the kitchen, leaving you at the counter with Yeontan by your feet, attempting to catch droplets of food.

Taehyung showered and shaved, brushing gel through his hair after blow drying it. Now, he knows it’s weird to say he’s dressing to impress kaito, but that’s exactly what he’s doing, just not for the reason you’re thinking. He wants to basically show him up in typical taehyung fashion, perhaps make him jealous?

He rummaged through his closet before deciding on a blue Hawaiian shirt paired with black jeans.

Across the hall, you were panicking in the bathroom as you tried to straighten your hair but it only ended up looking flat and weird. “Stop being so....UGLY!” You whisper yell to yourself as you point to your reflection in the mirror. You ultimately decide to wet your hair so it can curl up again, opting for it to just be natural and messy. After throwing on makeup (you indeed did not just “throw on” makeup, you spent 20 minutes on eyeliner) you put on a white long sleeved shirt and put black overalls ontop, you looked cute you supposed, but you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d look like in taehyungs eyes. Was it wrong to want to be seen as prettier to him when your literal boyfriend was on his way over.

You walked out to the kitchen when you saw taehyung grabbing a beer out of the fridge, your mouth grew dry just seeing him. He looked like walking sex. You cleared your throat, “you look handsome” you Shyly mumble and make your way over, hugging him playfully. His eyes dart down to you, feeling his heartbeat quicken from just how stunning you looked, unaware of the difficulties you had getting ready, and you called him handsome, YOU!

“Oh, thank you y/n, you look beautiful.” He spoke, turning back to the counter, “kaito is a lucky guy huh” he spoke quietly. “I suppose so” you joked, brushing your bangs out of your face and looking at him. “You smell nice” he added, the perfume infiltrating his nose as an all too familiar scent, suddenly drawing him back to the dream he had last night as he awkwardly tried to step a few feet away from you.

“Thanks bubs” you smile, grabbing a water to cool your nerves down, at this point you couldn’t even pin point why you were nervous in the first place. “Are you ok?” You asked, eyes drawing to the fidgety boy in front of you. He shrugged and looked down, the guilt was eating him alive, “y/n, can we talk later?” He sighed.

You tilted your head, confused but willing. “Yeah? Are you ok th-“ you were interrupted by the doorbell, both you and your roommate sharing a frightful look.

You ran to open the door, adjusting your hair as taehyung stood behind you. “Hi!” You said sweetly as the door opened, your friends and boyfriend present with foods and drinks in their arms. “Hi baby” kaito spoke, walking in to press a quick kiss to your lips. Taehyung clenched his jaw and noticed how much taller he was compared to him. Not to be an asshole and make everything about masculinity, but he hated seeing his height. Kaitos eyes looked behind you to meet taehyungs, his body halting as taehyung just raised his eyebrows teasingly, a look that read “go on, say something”. You looked between both of them before speaking up, “kaito this is taehyung, my roommate and best friend, tae, this is kaito” you cheer, wrapping an arm around your boyfriend. “ I think we’ve met” kaito bit, “really?? When?” You peered up. “Oh somewhere at the coffee shop, I think” taehyung spoke, biting back a giggle as he walked away to meet your other friends.

“You look so good” You spoke, playing with kaitos hair as he kissed your forehead. “Thanks baby” he led with you into the kitchen.

He couldn’t even return the compliment to you? This only left you feeling insecure, checking your appearance in every reflection available.

“You have such a cute apartment you guys!” Your friend chaeyoung cheered, looking around at all the decorations. “I was gonna say, it’s perfect” dahyun added, moving to the wall of photos and smiling. “What are these?” She asked, you pulled away from kaito to walk over and look. “Oh this is from last summer when taehyung and I went on this Europe trip for his work, it was so fun and we even got to go to Paris for a night” you pointed at the picture of you and taehyung by the Eiffel Tower.

Taehyung stood in the kitchen, smiling to himself as he thought of how fun that trip was, it was just you two alone. Kaito looked and scrunched his face up, opening his beer before looking at taehyung. Would it be wrong for taehyung to say he found joy in how much your boyfriend seemed to despise him? Because he now had the urge to pull every string.

About an hour later, all of you had eaten, and now were sitting in the living room eating desserts and drinking wine, lost in random conversations. Taehyung impatiently tapped his foot against the other, waiting for you to come back out of your room you had fled to randomly 15 mins ago. “Where’s y/n?” Chaeyoung asked, frowning as she opened up the cinnamon bread, “she is gonna be back and hate me because this is gonna be gone” she pointed down at the dessert, earning a laugh from dahyun. “Just be patient” she pushed her, the two girls giggling as taehyung sat up and walked over to your door. Kaito watched him from the couch, scanning over him and paying attention to his actions.

Carefully, he knocked against your door, whispering into the frame. “Y/n, it’s me, can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before you walked over and whispered, “yeah”. You stood back and watched the boy come in, him completely unaware your boyfriend was watching the whole thing as he shut the door behind him. Taehyung was taken back when he saw you “Why are you crying?” He asked softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears. You shrugged and sniffled, “it’s stupid” you sigh and look away. “Obviously not if it’s bothering you. You never cry” he pointed out. You bit the inside of your lip as you looked down at your feet next to his, he was right. You never cried, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to confide in him.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice spoke shakily. Taehyung scanned over your face, unsure how to approach this. “I don’t feel pretty” you shrugged, tears welling up. He couldn’t help but smile a little, “see! It’s stupid! You are laughing at me” You whined before he grasped your hand. “I’m laughing because how could such a beautiful girl say that about herself?” He spoke meaningfully. Your eyes looked up at his so softly he could have melted into the floor at that moment. “Do you actually think I’m beautiful?” You whispered. “Absolutely” he nodded and brushed your hair back, squeezing your hand as you leaned forward to hug him tightly, making him rock a bit before catching his footing. He wrapped his long arms around you and rubbed your back, head resting on top of yours.

“Can I come in?” Suddenly the two of you broke apart at the sound of kaitos voice by the door. You wiped your tears and looked over. “Are you ok?” He asked, eyes darting to Taehyung. “I am, let’s go have dessert” you grab his hand and lead him out of your room. Taehyung stayed in there for a moment to catch his breath, mentally preparing himself to go back into the living room.

If taehyung hadn’t known any better, he would say dahyun was flirting with him. “Honestly your skin is so fucking smooth, how do you do your routine?? Or- wait! I bet your one of those guys who just naturally have nice ass skin even though they wash their face with like a fucking bar of soap or some shit!” She laughed, moving practically into his lap as she examined every pore on his face. He beamed over at you, across at the other couch and sent a very telling ‘help me NOW’ look, you simply giggled, knowing dahyun pretty much did this everytime she was within 5 feet of a male. She’s always been boy crazy, but you still kept an eye on her while she was conversing next to taehyung. You knew in the back of your mind that the reason taehyung skin is so nice is well, because of YOU. You lend him all your products and even have occasional skincare nights, though, he would never admit it to dahyun. “Genetics” he shrugs.

As the next hour went on, more drinks were ingested and you all sat on the floor around the living room table. “Baby, did you know chaeyoung’s roommate moved out?” Kaito turned to you, hopeful eyes as he rubbed your lower back. “Really??” You turned your head to your friend, “yeah, she had to go back home and she actually dropped out I think” chae nodded. “Aww” you respond, kaito grabbing your attention. “You should move in with her! Wouldn’t that be fun!” He pokes you with his elbow.

This conversation grabbed taehyungs attention, looking away from dahyun’s phone where she was showing him pictures from her own trip to Europe. “Wha- why, why would she need to move out?” He panicked slightly, feeling anger at his sudden attempt to pull you away from him. Kaitos eyebrows raised as he looked at the boy across from him. “Because they’re friends?” He stated. “Ok? Y/N and I are friends too? We have been since we were 12. I think we are content living together” he laughed at the end of his words. You looked at taehyung sympathetically, appreciating his effort of defense but also warning him to not pick a fight like he tends to do everywhere he goes. “Plus chaeyoung is welcome over here anytime if she wants to” tae nodded. “Yeah sure, you’re friends, but it’s different” kaito adds.

“How so?” Taehyung chucked, “please enlighten me!!” He sat up.

“Tae” you warned, his eyes ignoring yours. “I’m just saying, I think she would be more comfortable with a female roommate” kaito sipped his drink as chaeyoung and dahyun watched with awkwardness. “First of all, you can’t speak for her. Second of all...Why? You don’t trust me? It’s not like we have sex” he casually said, your face turning to a red fire as you pounded your fist onto the table. “Stop taehyung!” You were in shock of his behavior, what the fuck was up his ass. Kaito looked taken back as well, watching the boy in front of him seem to lose his mind. “Or maybe it’s some excuse so you can have her all to yourself, here’s a little tip buddy, if you wanna keep a girlfriend maybe you should stop trying to be a control freak, also compliment her once in a while, it’s nothing off your back, you self centered asshole”

You stood up at his words, embarrassed that he would mention the reason of your tears earlier. You couldn’t tell if you were more ashamed of taehyungs actions, or the fact taehyung himself saw how unperfect you and Kaito actually were compared to what you’ve been telling him. “Enough!!!” You spoke shakily, tears brimming your eyes as you walked off, turning around to speak. “I’m sorry to end tonight like this, but please go home.” You sadly spoke, pushing taehyung and kaito away when they both approached you. “Get away from me!! Both of you!!” You shout, tears falling down your cheek in embarrassment. “You” your finger pointed at taehyung. “You are so much better than this!” He looked down in shame, he hurt you and he didn’t even realize it, he was being selfish. “And you” you pointed to your boyfriend. “Why would you even bring that conversation up? I’m quite happy living here, you just started a whole issue!!” You wipe your tears in frustration and turn to your room, everyone looking around as chaeyoung awkwardly walks out, followed by an angry kaito.

Dahyun grabs her purse and walks up to taehyung, who had been hiding and pushing down his tears. “It’s ok” she whispered, rubbing his arm. “Dahyun please, I’m sure you are a nice gi-“

“You love her.” She simply interrupted.

“What??” He was taken back, watching the girl in front of him speak. “You love y/n. And that’s ok” she comforted. “Go apologize to her, she’ll....come around” a soft smile and weak hug left her grabbing her coat and heading out, taehyung standing in confusion once the door shut. His eyes darting to the locked bedroom door that you were in, contemplating his entrance.

You paced your room, skin red and hot as you wiped your makeup off with a single wipe. You changed out of your days outfit and put on a shirt, that happened to be taehyungs, and sweatpants. You climbed into bed, sniffling as you laid against your pillow. Your phone rang with notifications from kaito, some messages asking wtf just happened, and others asking when he can see you again, this time without the others. You scoffed and threw your phone across the room.

You looked up at the ceiling before turning to your side, grasping one of your pillows and spilling tears into it. Your fingers ran delicate patterns on the side of the pillow, you wanted to pretend it was taehyung you were holding, inhaling deeply and pressing your head against the top of it. You felt guilty. For two things, actually. One, for yelling at taehyung. You knew he was a hot head and started getting angry and defensive when he was uncomfortable, you couldn’t blame him, the tension in the room could be cut in 4’s. The other was, well, the fact you currently wished to be cuddling next to someone who isn’t your boyfriend. Sure, you lied to taehyung about how great you and kaito were, but you didn’t want him to think you just picked the first boy who gave you attention. As the weeks have gone by, perhaps you realize you did just that. Maybe you weren’t ready for a relationship, maybe you pushed yourself into the dating world just to get taehyung out of your mind. You sigh deeply and sit up, looking at your appearance in a mirror across, hanging on the wall. You were a fucking mess, physically and mentally. You were going to just head back to bed but it’s then when you remembered how taehyung asked to talk with you this morning. You knew he probably wasn’t up for it anymore, but you didn’t want to leave him with a full chest to sleep on when he had an opportunity to talk with you. You peeled the covers back and tiptoe over to the door, opening it quietly.

He wasn’t in the kitchen or living room so you assumed he was in his own room.

You quietly walk over and knock on his door, when there is no response you worry, opting to creek the door a little and find him already passed out in bed. You looked down and shut the door. He never sleeps this early. Oh you felt bad....real bad. Making your way into the kitchen for a cup of water, you found a small sticky note attached to the edge of the counter. You picked it up and held it close, reading it.

“I’m sorry :(“

You let out an audible “aw”, sighing and beginning to feel emotional for some reason. You didn’t mean to hurt him, he’s probably sleeping with the assumption you hate him now. You made a mental note to speak with him first thing in the morning to clear things out, tucking the sticky note into your pocket and going back to bed.

Throughout the night, your mind raced of only taehyung. It was wrong to think of him like this....right?

Maybe you were the one in the wrong here. You clutched your head in confusion, you thought you were doing yourself a favor pushing taehyung out of the picture to focus on a relationship, but the truth is that you should’ve said something to him. You should’ve told him how you felt. You really can’t predict how he would have reacted, maybe he felt the same for you. You regret this with your entire body, You loved taehyung, and you hated yourself for it.

Perhaps it was kaito you needed to talk to instead.

—-

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#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #bts #bts fanfic #Kim taehyung #fwb to lovers #taehyung fwb #taehyung x oc #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #fluff #smut #New fic #Jungkook #bangtan #fluffy fic #taehyung series

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