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#she was (in her own words) literally about to break and just happened to find this person at objectively the worst time
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Hi! A bit of a different one after I thought I had. The student cast in HL would be 39-40 yo when the 1st World War begins. How would they react to it individually? Would they follow the Ministry's prohibition to get involved or would they do like many of the wizards who did join some kind of war effort (like Newt and Theseus Scamander)?
HLC REACT TO MUGGLE ww1
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He only gets involved if he believes dark wizards are taking advantage of the bloodshed or instigating it. It wouldn't have been the first time magic users have tried putting muggles against each other for their own benefit or entertainment.
OMINIS GAUNT: He wants nothing to do with it. Nothing personal to the muggles, but if they want to destroy each other, he's not obligated to stop them. Humans have been inventing new ways to kill each other since time began, this won't be the last time something like this happens.
ANNE SALLOW: She'd rather not get involved. It breaks her heart that people would do this to each other, but wizards can't solve all the world's problems. Now, if she happens to come across innocent muggles trying to flee the violence, a quick concealment charm wouldn't hurt.
IMELDA REYES: She uses her platform as a superstar athlete to speak out against the violence the wizarding world is allowing to happen under its noses. "How long before wizards are found when the attackers suspiciously can't bomb an area? How long before muggle wars find our own doorsteps?" Her words are controversial, but it gets people talking. That's what she wants.
NATSAI ONAI: She can't just stand by and watch innocent people die! These wars are started by unscrupulous leaders that force their people to fight their battles for them, it's disgusting. She's in the trenches (literally) stopping battles as subtly as she can. She's wanted by the ministry for her meddling, but she doesn't care.
GARRETH WEASLEY: He's a successful business man, he doesn't have time for such moral conundrums. Nevermind that some of his concoctions can be used for subterfuge. What the customer does with his product is none of his concern. wink And nevermind that he has locations all over Europe that have muggle fronts for food and medicine. WINK
LEANDER PREWETT: He's an auror for the Ministry, one of their best. He's been charged with catching one Natsai Onai. He doesn't believe the Ministry is doing the right thing, refusing to help the muggles, so he really struggles to find Natty. She's a slippery one. That's what he tells his boss.
AMIT THAKKAR: He's studying abroad at the time of the war and is nowhere near Europe at the time. He only reads about it in wizarding papers that bother dictating muggle news. War is horrible and tragic, but is unfortunately part of the human condition. Even wizards war with each other. He focuses on the stars.
EVERETT CLOPTON: He's never had a high regard for rules. He's part of an underground network of wizarding folk secretly helping the muggles. While someone like Natty would be over in the trench warfare, he's focusing on the homefront in England, just trying to keep folks alive while the new airborne threats bombed the cities.
POPPY SWEETING: Her priority has always been with beasts. Even when humans are at their worst, they bring it on themselves and she's concerned for the innocent beasts caught in the crossfire. She's on rescue mission after rescue mission to get rare and common beasts alike away from the front lines.
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godofsmallthings · 2 years
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WAIT youre actually a toe shipper now and dont think shes had any female relationships wow lol fjsjsjs i dont think shes a lesbian anymore but joe is still just eh. nothing to me like hes fine. also their relationship is clearly not perfect considering her past few albums
wow sounds like someone has not watched the 10 things conversations with friends star joe alwyn can't live without video enough <3 get well soon!
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endlessthxxghts · 5 days
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For Your Safety
no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 1.8k
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Summary: Your bladder forces you to disrupt your make out session with your boyfriend. Joel seeks out a different way to relieve you.
Content warnings: Reader has female sex anatomy and has slight implied feminine descriptors. Feminine pet names (baby, mama). Pussy has pronouns (she/her), but reader directly does not. Joel carries reader once. Established relationship. 18+ MDNI!! Porn with very minimal plot. BDSM play/undertones. Exploring new kinks. Slight discomfort/reluctancy (implied safe words in place - Joel will stop if you say the safe words). P in V unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Piss kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed anything!
Author's note: I'M BACK, MY LOVES!!! I'VE MISSED YOU! I've got several things coming your guys' way, but I just wrote this little thing to get my juices (figuratively and literally) flowing again hehehe. Thank you @strang3lov3 for being my second pair of eyes on this little baby and for making this beautiful, perfect fucking moodboard, I appreciate you so much🩶 I hope you guys enjoy xx
masterlist | updates blog
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“Mm, baby, wait,” you mutter, breaking away from the puffy lips of the insatiable man underneath you. 
“You okay?” He breathes into your mouth, a frown already forming that your lips aren’t on his anymore. 
With a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Yes, I’m okay, I just really need to pee.”
Lifting off of his lap, you begin to turn away before Joel’s pawing at your wrist. “Wait.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. 
“Don’t go pee yet.”
“Joel,” you giggle. “I’ll literally be two seconds, I know that boner isn’t going away anytime soon.”
“No- I mean…” he trails off. He sits up, his hands finding their way back to your waist. Your body easily begins to give in. 
“Baby,” you lightly scold.
“You trust me?” His gaze never breaks from yours. 
“Always,” you reply immediately. 
Without missing a beat: “Then sit on me.”
“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. 
Without further explanation, his fingers find the hem of your bottoms. He gives you a chance to tell him to stop, but when you never take that chance, he lets your clothing fall into a little pile on your living room floor. He pulls away for a moment after, shedding himself of his belt and jeans, letting his clothes join yours. 
Your heart jumps at the sight of him—his entire length on display, tip red and leaking, eyes blackened with hunger as he devours you with his eyes alone. “Baby,” you whimper, “I swear to God, if I get aroused any further I will not be able to control my fucking bladder—”
A smirk begins to form across his face.
Oh. 
The way Joel’s eyes gloss over as you finally piece it together has your body shuddering. He didn’t say not to pee. He just said not to pee yet. 
“C’mere, baby,” he drawls lazily. His hands are reaching out for you, guiding you to straddle him once more. 
Settling into his lap, Joel wastes no time guiding his length to you, your previous makeout session and the proposition of what’s about to happen providing you already with an ample amount of slick for him to work with. 
The second he fixes merely the head of him in your entrance, a pleasurable flutter erupts through you, starting in your lower belly, shooting up your spine. A breathy yelp of a fuck escapes your throat at the sensation, the feeling of your bladder intensifying tenfold. 
“Joel,” you whine, eyes clamping shut as your hips meet his own, his grip tight and unrelenting. “It- it h-hurts…” you trail off, gasping when he begins moving you back and forth, grinding you against him. 
“It hurts?” He asks, slowing but not to a halt. 
So good, you think, it hurts so fucking good. But already, you’re too turned on and blissed out for any coherent thought to form. Instead, your hands find his chest, using the newfound stability to grind down even harder onto him, whimpers and murmured curses in breathy exhales make his chest—and cock—swell with pride. 
He’s been meaning to tell you about this secret little fantasy he’s had for a while. Joel has never had a piss kink or anything before, but after that time he made you squirt and you literally sprayed him everywhere from his mouth down? Oh, he needed more—needed to feel it happen around him—and he needed it badly. He just wasn’t sure how you’d react. 
Sure, you’re both more explorative in the bedroom than most people, but anything involving pee has always been on the more extreme side. He didn’t want to scare you away—as if you could ever, you’d probably tell him. And he could just make you squirt again, but where’s the fun in that? The fun in making every part of you lose control from him and him alone? 
And now here you are, providing him with the perfect opportunity to show rather than tell you about his fantasies. 
“Oh, my poor baby, ” he taunts, the worry of you being in actual pain dissipating immediately. “Hurts so bad because she need’a cum, huh? That it, baby?” 
His chest is heaving with how fucking good you feel, tight and warm and utterly fucking soaked. It is taking absolutely everything within him to not cum inside you at this very moment, but he needs you to get there first. He’s determined.
With your hips finding a steady, needy rhythm, you nod your head rapidly—thighs shaking, nails stabbing through the fabric of his green flannel. “Please, bab— oh my god,” you groan out as he brings his fingers in between where you two meet, the added pleasure forcing the familiar muscle in your belly to clench, your pussy fluttering out of her mind around him. 
“Oh my god, oh fuck—” you cry. A sense of rationale floods your brain, allowing you a moment to slur something decently audible. “Joel, the couch,” you pant. “I’m gonna— it’s gonna get dirty, baby, please, I can’t—”
Your hips are still driving eagerly despite your spoken protests, and Joel is just having way too much fun with this. “Never had a problem fuckin’ on the couch before, baby, what’s the difference now?” He asks with a grunt, the corner of his mouth upturned. 
“Joel,” you try to bite, but your venom is useless when he has you like this, on the verge of forcing your body into the astral plane with no say in the matter. Still, you try once more. “Joel, I— I’m gonna fucking—” a moan forces itself out, choking you on your words. “Fuck, please, I’m gonna fucking pee, baby, please, I can’t hold it,” you beg, tears pooling into your lash line, the pleasure nearing the territory of overstimulation. 
Joel contemplates. He seriously has no problems deep cleaning the couch later, but your discomfort is more important. If you don’t want to dirty the couch, then you two aren’t going to dirty the couch. 
“Hold tight,” he tells you, and you do despite your face’s confusion. His arms hold you snug against him, and he stands with you on him—with him in you—and makes a beeline for the bathroom. 
“Oh, fuck,” you groan as he walks, the tinge of sex already sticking to the creases of his neck. Each step causes your belly to flutter, bringing you closer and closer to release—closer to releasing your bladder all over the damn house. “Baby, please,” you gasp, your nails digging into the back of his head as you try to hold off on letting go. 
Joel kicks the door open, uncaring in the slightest sound of a crack that should make the contractor in him jump, but it doesn’t phase him. He’s got other priorities.
The main bathroom of your guys’ house has a walk-in shower, and a few months ago, he installed some railings against each of the walls. He may have had ulterior motives, but he was adamant that it was for your safety, baby. 
Smirking to himself at the thought, he steps inside, settling your ass against the wall, perching you against the cold metal for some added support. His arms snake down your body, and he hooks himself underneath the bend of your knees. Gripping onto the rail, he renders you entirely immobile, and immediately, he’s on a mission. 
He pulls out, the tip threatening to slip from your heat, but before you know it, he’s slamming into you, the sheer force of your man stealing all the breath from your lungs. 
“Joel—” you scream out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you moan and gasp for air. 
“Gonna cum for me, baby? Huh?”
“Y-yeah, fuck— I’m gonna—”
“Gonna pee, too, mama? Gonna fuckin’ make a mess ‘a me? I can feel you, baby, feel her fuckin’ grippin’ me,” he snarls, eyes laser focused on his cream-coated, glistening cock as he pierces you over and over again. “Let go f’me, baby, c’mon, I gotcha,” his voice coos, albeit a little muffled to your ears as you finally give in to your body’s desires, your body’s needs. 
Your head thumps against the shower wall as your eyes clamp shut, sweet wails of ecstasy reverberating in the tiny-tiled room. Not only does Joel feel warmth and thick wetness along the length of him, but he feels running hot liquid stream down the front of his body, his legs. Fuck. 
The steady stream he hears and feels is what finally brings himself to his edge, his cock twitching and pulsing, painting every single inch inside you. His movement comes to a reluctant stop, slowly taking away each arm from your leg to let you stand on your own.
“Can you stand?” he asks. 
“Are you kidding me?” you murmur with a weak laugh. “I had these rails installed a bit ago… for my safety,” you smirk, exaggerating the way you hold onto the pipes. “I’ll be fine.”
He jokingly rolls his eyes at you before he leans forward, kissing you on the forehead. “I’m sorry I kind of cornered ya with this one,” he mutters softly. 
“No, baby, no apologies. You would’ve stopped if I said, but it doesn’t matter anyway because I… I really liked it,” you admit, cheeks hotter than a bonfire. 
“Oh,” he says, his cheeks threatening a dopey expression. 
“Just—”
“Yeah?” He cuts off eagerly.
“Just not in places where we’d have people, okay?”
“Deal,” he smirks, catching your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. 
Let’s rinse off,” you squeak into his mouth. You’re fucking exhausted after everything, but you can feel your insatiable body getting worked up yet again with the way his mouth is on you. 
“Yeah, alright,” he pulls away, smacking your ass in the process before turning the shower nozzle to the preferred temperature. Not your preferred temperature—the temperature that his soft, precious, sensitive skin could handle. You test the water underneath your fingertips, laughing to yourself at how cold it is. 
“Oh, also.”
“What’s up?” you ask, prepping the loofah with the vanilla body wash you know he loves but will never admit. 
“Do we have gatorade? Or like, Smartwater or somethin’? Somethin’ with those hydration things— what are they called? Electrolytes?”
You cock an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I jus’ wanna make sure you’re hydrated. At all times. It’s important to stay hydrated, y’know?”
You look him up and down, calculating your thoughts before you respond. “We can go to the store after this,” you offer. 
“Yeah? Okay,” he leans forward to drop another kiss to your lips. “You know how much your health means to me,” he adds. 
“I thought it was my safety,” you say pointing to one out of the many “safety” modifications he’s added to your shared home. 
“Your health, too, mama. Especially your hydration, hm?” 
“Right,” you say with an exaggerated lilt. “Now turn around so I can scrub your ass.”
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Extended note:
I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics
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kooktrash · 8 months
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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook
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summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back
warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes
LIMERENCE MASTERLIST
➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]
➢ 18.4k words
song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv
The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.
Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.
It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”
Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”
“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”
Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.
“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.
“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.
“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”
“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”
Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”
You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”
“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”
“It’s no—“
“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”
“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”
“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”
“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”
“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”
You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”
“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine!”
The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.
Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.
‘JJK 1’
‘JJK 2’
‘JJK 3’
‘JJK 4’
There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”
“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”
“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”
“Not neces—“
“Do it.”
What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.
Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.
A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”
“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”
“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.
“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”
“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”
He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”
“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.
‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’
He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”
Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.
The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?
His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.
“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.
“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”
“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.
Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.
“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.
Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”
A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”
His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”
“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”
“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”
“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”
Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.
Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”
“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”
“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”
“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.
Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”
“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”
“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.
“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”
“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”
“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”
“Because Y/n’s asham—“
“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”
“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”
“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.
“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”
Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.
He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”
“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“
“No.”
“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”
He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”
“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”
“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”
That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“
“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”
His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”
“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.
“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”
“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”
“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”
He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”
“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”
“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.
He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.
You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.
Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.
Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”
“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.
He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.
There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.
He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.
After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.
To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.
It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.
For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.
You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.
You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.
“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”
“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”
Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”
“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”
“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”
You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”
“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”
“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”
“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”
“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”
Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”
“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.
“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”
“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”
You shook your head no, “When?”
“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.
Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.
“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”
You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”
“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”
“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”
Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.
It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.
When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.
You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?
“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”
“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”
Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.
“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.
Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.
He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”
Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”
“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”
“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”
Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”
Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”
Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”
Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.
He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?
The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.
“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”
All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”
Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”
“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”
“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.
“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”
�� ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.
Why were you missing him?
It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.
If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.
Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.
Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.
For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.
It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.
“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”
Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.
Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.
“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.
Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.
You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.
“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“
“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”
He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.
Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.
Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.
The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.
Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…
“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”
At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”
Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”
Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”
This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.
“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.
“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.
“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.
The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”
His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.
There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.
“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.
“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”
“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.
“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”
He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“
“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”
There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”
“Just?”
“Y/n came to the studio.”
Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“
“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”
“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”
“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”
“What tapes?”
“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”
“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”
“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.
“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“
“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.
In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.
“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”
Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”
“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”
There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.
It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.
When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.
“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.
Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.
“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”
It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.
Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.
“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.
God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.
Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.
“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.
“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”
He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.
He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.
“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.
In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.
“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.
Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.
“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”
“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”
Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”
You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”
“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”
“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”
“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”
“I can’t.”
For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”
“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”
“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”
“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”
“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.
You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”
“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”
“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”
Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?
What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.
Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?
“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”
“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”
Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.
As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.
Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.
That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.
“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.
When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.
It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.
“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”
“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.
Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.
The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.
“Y/n—“
Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?
You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”
The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.
Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“
He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.
Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.
He’s moved on.
Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”
“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”
“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.
“Dead serious.”
Click.
“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”
The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.
You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.
“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.
“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”
Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”
Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.
“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.
“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.
“When?”
“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”
They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”
“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”
“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”
“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”
“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”
“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”
“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”
“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.
“No.”
“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.
“And tell him what?”
“That maybe you should start over—“
“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”
You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.
Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.
Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.
You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…
Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.
“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.
Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.
“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”
Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”
When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”
Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”
“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”
“Which one?”
“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.
Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”
“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”
Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”
“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”
“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”
“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”
“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”
“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.
“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”
“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”
“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”
“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“
“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?
The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.
For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”
“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”
Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”
“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”
You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.
Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”
Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“
“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”
“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”
“Y/n, wai—“
Click.
Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.
You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.
Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.
You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.
Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”
You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”
He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”
“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“
“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.
You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”
Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”
He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.
When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.
“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.
“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.
“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.
Six years.
Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”
Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.
“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.
“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.
His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.
"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.
He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.
“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”
He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.
“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.
He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.
"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"
You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”
It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.
Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.
Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”
There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.
The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”
He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”
Did you want to stop?
Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?
Had he said something that made you want to leave?
“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”
He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”
The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”
It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.
“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”
“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”
What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.
You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."
He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.
He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”
You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”
The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”
" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."
He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.
"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”
“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”
His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.
“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.
He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.
It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.
The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”
He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.
You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”
A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”
When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”
“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.
“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”
You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”
“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”
It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.
“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?
“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”
“But I left you—“
“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”
You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.
“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”
“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“
“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”
::.
yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance
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littlexdeaths · 2 months
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fever pitch - r.b.
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softball player robin buckley x cheerleader fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public sex, thigh riding, secret relationship, allusions to sex, bullying, mean!dom robin, little bit of mean reader, jealous reader
this is a collab with the absolutely brilliant @undead-supernova !! i literally had so much fucking fun writing this with you august, and it might be my favorite robin fic i’ve ever written. i feel like our brains collided and made a gay ass baby and i’m so proud of us. we hope you enjoy xx.
word count: 3.7K
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“Shhh, don’t want us getting caught like this do you?”
Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.
That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.
“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”
In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”
Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”
“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.
“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.
Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.
You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?
It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.
But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.
See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.
If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.
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You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.
All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.
You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.
But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?
No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.
You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.
One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.
A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.
Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.
You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.
“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.
“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.
“Yeah, I already know who you are.”
“You do?”
“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”
“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”
You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.
But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.
“I wouldn't say that.”
“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.
“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.
And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.
“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”
“Oh, just spit it out already.”
You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”
“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”
“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”
Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”
Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.
You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”
“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”
“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”
“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Please—”
“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”
“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”
Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.
That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.
“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.
“I want you, Robs.”
She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.
“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.
You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.
After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.
Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.
But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.
“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.
Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.
“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.
Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”
Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.
“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”
“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”
“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”
With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.
“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.
Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”
You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”
“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.
Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.
You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.
As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.
You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.
There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.
Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.
But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.
Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.
“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”
“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”
She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?
“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”
“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.
Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.
Good.
“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”
“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.
“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.
“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”
“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”
You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.
“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”
Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.
“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
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And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.
“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.
“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.
She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.
So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.
“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.
Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.
“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.
“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.
“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”
You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”
You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.
“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.
“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.
Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.
“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.
“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”
You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.
“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”
Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.
“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.
You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.
The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.
“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.
Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”
She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.
“My good girl.”
Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.
You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.
“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.
“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”
“Your girl?” she teases.
You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”
“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”
“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”
“No?”
“Mm-mm.”
You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.
Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.
Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.
“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”
Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”
You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.
Right in the middle of the open field.
“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.
“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.
As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.
“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”
“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”
“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”
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tagging some moots 💕
@xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @impmunson @voyeurmunson @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski
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494 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
Note
so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish
anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)
Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)
They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)
Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip
Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)
The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel
Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)
Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello
Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe
Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)
(Just for example, do what you want <3)
Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )
A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.
Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.
Word Count: 2,584
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.
She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.
As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.
She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.
One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.
She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.
So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.
As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.
When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.
Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.
For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.
Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.
Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.
That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.
After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.
It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.
"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"
"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.
She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.
"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.
Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.
"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.
"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.
"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.
"Uh..."
Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.
"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"
"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.
"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.
Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.
"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.
"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"
"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"
"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.
"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.
Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.
"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.
Y/n poked the shadow again.
"What is this? How are you doing this?"
When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.
"Oh."
She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.
"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."
Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.
"If you're going to be staying her-"
"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."
"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."
"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"
"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.
"See?"
"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."
"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"
Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.
"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"
"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.
Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.
"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"
Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.
"Y/n L/n."
Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.
"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.
"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"
"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."
The room fell silent.
"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.
"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.
This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.
"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"
Y/n shrugged.
"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."
"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."
"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."
Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.
"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.
She looked up at him, her expression blank.
"Yeah?"
"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.
"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"
"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."
Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.
"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."
"Yes...?"
"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."
"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.
She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.
"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"
"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"
"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."
---
Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2
720 notes · View notes
spooky-holtz · 4 months
Text
Kelly Green
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Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Genre: fluff, some VERY suggestive language, alludes heavily to smut
Word Count: 2.3k
Prompt: "mel x reader where they’re dating and the r keeps stealing mel’s eagles sweatshirt and one day mel finds the reader all curled up on the couch sleeping with the sweater on.."
--------------------
“Honey?” You hear Melissa call in your shared bedroom from where you sit at the bathroom vanity that was once just hers. The products that litter the surface are a mix of both of yours; Melissa’s various pens and bottles sitting on one side, neatly tucked into a makeup back, your own strewn across the surface as you try to prepare yourself for the day ahead, “Have you seen my lucky sweatshirt anywhere?”  
You know exactly the one she’s talking about. It’s game day so there is only one item of clothing she will wear and it’s her relic of a sweatshirt. The heather grey material is a little discolored and frayed around the edges from years of constant use and the green print that displays the Eagles logo across the front is cracked beyond belief, making it nearly impossible to read the Kelly green font.  
“Babe?” She calls again, “Are you even listening?” The slight panic in her voice is evident as you realize you haven’t actually answered her yet. You stare back at your reflection in the mirror from the padded stool on which you sit, hair curled and makeup half-applied after your shower, Melissa’s silk robe you grabbed from its hook on the back of the door currently resting on your shoulders and tied loosely around your waist.  
You sigh as you realize you should probably go and help the redhead and rise from your seat, anticipating the level of stress you’ll no doubt find her in.  
When you cross the threshold from cold tiled flooring to the soft carpet of the bedroom, you immediately find Melissa torso deep in the chest of drawers that holds most of her clothing. She hasn’t even noticed you yet, the entire top half of her body nearly submerged in the sea of shirts as she rummages through them frantically. You can hear her mumbling something about “that goddamn sweater” as she digs through the drawer, your presence unnoticed.  
You don’t want to get too close to the scene, knowing that you could get hit by one of the sweater-turned-projectiles that your dear wife is currently throwing halfway across the room, not bothering to look back and see where they land. Instead, you choose to lean back against the doorway from which you just entered and admire the view of Melissa bending over in the tightest pair of leather pants she owns. Game day has its advantages, and every single one of them are those pants. You decide to finally put her out of her misery and break the silence.  
“You know it’s not going to be in there, right?” The sound of your voice immediately catches her attention, and she jumps, caught off guard by the intrusion and nearly hitting her head on the drawer above her head that sits ajar above the current focus of her attention. “The last game day was literally a week ago, so it’s probably folded up by the dryer somewhere downstairs.”  
In reality you know it’s not anywhere near the dryer; it’s in your own chest of drawers that Melissa doesn’t dare to touch. She can’t know that you’ve taken it, especially not now when she’s this far into what is coming close to a nervous breakdown.  
You didn’t even mean for it to take up residence among the rest of your clothing. It just happened last weekend when Melissa was out shopping and lunching with Barbara and you quite simply missed her, choosing to curl up in the sweater that she’s worn since long before you met. It just never found its way back to its rightful home and is now tucked away safely among your countless band t-shirts on the other side of the bedroom.  
After what feels like an eternity of watching your wife rifling through her own clothing, she finally stands from her crouched position, grumbling about her knees and gripping the edge of the cabinet, and turns to meet you.  
“How about I check the dryer for you, hm?” You ask as she turns slowly, her stiff muscles making it difficult to do so quickly. The stress in her features is evident, the crease between her eyebrows prominent from her furrowed brow. Her face softens as she meets your eye-line from where you rest against the door from, arms folded and head leaning against the wood.  
“I’ve already checked, it’s definitely not there,” she replied, taking a few steps closer to where you stand. As she moves you can’t help but notice her eyes dipping down your frame, taking in your form. Her expression has gone from stressed, soft, to starving in seconds. “You know, I never even noticed that this is what you looked like right now.”  
She’s crossed the room already and stands in front of you, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you away from the door frame, toward her. Your own arms unfold and lace themselves around her neck, her red curls brushing against your wrists as you move. You scratch at the nape of her neck lightly, knowing that it calms her even in her most tumultuous of moments.  
“I haven’t even put my eyelashes on yet,” you huff. “I’m literally nowhere near ready.”  
Her eyes dip down again, your own following her gaze to see exactly what she finds so interesting. She wraps her arms tighter around you, bringing your body impossibly closer to her own. Her hands dip lower, brushing against the small of your back, bunching your robe and holding you in place.  
“You know, that isn’t a bad thing at all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice and your suspicions are confirmed when you look up and see that all too familiar expression laced across her features. Her dimples are deepened by the quirk of her lip, her eyebrow raised almost as if in a challenge. Your eyes dip down to her lips just as her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, coated with sticky pink shimmering gloss. When you look back up again you know you’ve been caught.  
You feel the heat rise up your neck, covering your chest in a pink blush. Even after all this time, Melissa’s flirting still makes you feel like a teenager. You can feel her subtly maneuver your body so that your back rests against the painted wall and not the sharp doorframe, narrowly missing the large wooden picture frame that protects an image of the Philly skyline.  
You know she’s proud of herself and the flustered state she’s got you in. Her lips haven’t even touched your own yet and you’re already putty in her hands, the task at hand completely forgotten. You feel her press into you, pushing you further into the wall, her leg coming to rest between your own.  
Her hands still hold your waist, keeping you in place and precisely where she wants you. The contact burns through your robe, the same way her eyes burn holes into your skin. When her eyes meet yours, you can see how dark they’ve become, the emerald green almost unrecognizable from the blown nature of her pupils. Her one hand leaves the comfort of your waist and instead trails up your body to rest at your jaw, her thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip.  
“You know, we’ve still got some time,” she says lowly, her eyebrow arched again. She knows you can never say no to her, especially when she looks as delicious as she does right now. The combination of her tight pants and buttoned plaid shirt makes your head spin, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and buttons undone slightly so you can see the smooth expanse of milky skin beneath. Her gaze runs down your body again and you feel yourself shiver under her scrutiny, goosebumps instantly appearing where her eyes follow. She leans closer, pressing her lips to your rosy cheek. “What do you say, pretty girl?” 
“My eyes are up here,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat as she presses her lips to your neck, using the hand on your jaw to keep you still and precisely where she wants you. You can feel the tackiness of her lips as they press into your skin, moving their way up toward your ear. Melissa’s breathing has gotten heavier, and you know there must be a trail of pink across your skin from the redhead’s attack.  
“I know,” she breathes into your ear, her deepened voice making your knees weaken. “Can’t I admire my beautiful wife?” She asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice and feel it where her lips press into your jaw, immediately giving her intentions away, as if the thigh pressing into the heat between your legs and the fist she has burrowed into the back of your robe doesn’t already. That same hand snakes its way around your waist, your wife pulling you impossibly closer as she continues to melt your hard exterior and quickly make use of what little time you have left.  
She uses the positioning to her advantage by sliding her hand around your thigh and lifting, bringing her even closer to your core. The sudden movement causes you to gasp, and her smirk only intensifies against your neck, turning into a full-blown shit-eating grin. You wrap your leg around her waist from where you stand, not letting her move away any time soon.  
She pulls her head back to look into your eyes, the green entirely replaced by her black pupils. Her lipgloss has smudged past the edge of her lips, almost matching the rosy hue of her cheeks, and her hair is mussed from where your hands have been buried within her red locks. This is one of your favourite versions of Melissa. She’s clearly hungry for whatever you can give.  
“How long do ya think we’ve got before Janine panics over us not being at the bar?” she asks, eyes trained on the pink glittery trail she’s left across your jaw. She’ll have to help you reapply your make-up later.  
“Probably an hour?” You respond, following her eyeliner as she admires her work, “But it’s never going to take that long, let’s be real.” 
Your words cause her eyes to snap up to meet yours, her mouth breaking into an instant grin, the lines around her eyes growing deeper at her joy.  
“I say we test your theory,” she says seconds before she spins you, leading you backward toward your bed.  
That was three weeks ago and she had all but forgotten about her sweater, her thoughts preoccupied with the other more important issues at hand. That was until she had walked back into your home one evening after her usual Saturday afternoon lunch with her Nonna. You would usually attend these lunches, finding the older Sicilian woman’s takes on the world incredibly entertaining but a week of testing means that you were far too behind on grading.  
When Melissa closes the heavy wooden door to your home, her belly and heart full, she can’t help but notice the eerie quietness. The usual music is playing from the radio on the kitchen counter, but instead of blasting some cheesy pop song that Melissa loves to pretend to hate she’s greeted by the dulcet tones of Carly Simon’s subdued crooning.  
She makes her way across the wooden floor, stepping carefully so her high-heeled boots can’t make the usual cracking noise with each step. When she rounds the corner into the living room, she is greeted by the dim light of a candle that has nearly reached the end of its wick, the sickly sweet scent of vanilla filling the room. She can see where you sit on the couch, the top of your head where a hastily thrown up bun sits giving away your location. You clearly haven’t noticed her presence yet, not moving at the noise of her walking closer.  
When she rounds the side of the sofa, Melissa can see that you’re not in fact hard at work but have evidently fallen asleep mid-grading. Your legs are a tangled mess where they rest along the length of the sofa, the plastic that protected the material had been removed long ago when you moved in with the red head, your relationship still fairly new but clearly thriving.  
Your head rests against the cushion of the sofa behind you, pen still in hand and paper discarded where it lays in your lap. Melissa can’t help but laugh lightly, thinking about just how many times she’s managed to find you in this exact position over the years. Your fluffy socks and bright red plaid pyjama pants are the image of comfort, she thinks, as she takes in the sight of you- wait a second, is that her Eagles sweater? The sight makes her jaw fall open in disbelief and everything clicks into place.  
The subject changes whenever it was brought up in conversation suddenly make so much sense to her now. She can’t help but chuckle and shake her head slightly, impressed that you had managed to misdirect her for so long but so enamoured that you could do all that just for a sweater. She would have let you wear it if you had asked, but she thinks it’s probably better to make you feel the achievement of swindling her out of her favourite item of clothing.  
Her heart feels impossibly full as she looks down at you where you rest, glass askew on your face and soft snores filling the room. Even if the losing streak the Eagles endured at the end of the season are a result of Melissa not wearing her sweater on game days, she would take the losses a million times over if it meant she could come home to this sight every evening. 
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writtenfangirl · 7 months
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Car's Outside
Inspired by Car's Outside by James Arthur!
This went through an extensive rewrite/editing process so hopefully, it's good!
I tried matching up the dates as much as possible so hopefully things don't get confusing <3
Edit: I posted this before qualifying for the Mexico GP thinking “I need something to make me feel better” after the inevitable news that the GP will break my heart only to wake up to news that Charles is on Pole with Carlos at P2 and Danny Ric at P4. I just need this to happen so bad I will literally cry if this happens
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I'm packin' my bags that I didn't unpack the last time I'm sayin', "See you again," so many times, it's becoming my tagline But you know the truth, I'd rather hold you Than try to catch this flight So many things I'd rather say But for now, it's goodbye
“I’m sorry,” Charles frowned. His breath fanned across her face, his forehead connected to her own. Y/N’s eyes were closed, head tilted upwards as she breathed him in.
Y/N knew Charles had to leave. It’s his job. Unlike most couples, she didn’t have the luxury of spending every minute of every second of every day with her boyfriend. Not when he was a world-famous Formula One driver whose job meant he was in a different city every week. And though Y/N enjoyed the privilege of freely going in and out of every paddock in the world because of her connections, it wasn’t a privilege she could exercise frequently. Not when she was an international lawyer also tasked with jet setting to other countries of the world. 
But they loved each other and so they made it work. Or, at least, tried to.
“Don’t apologize,” Y/N said with a rueful smile. Beneath the musky smell of his cologne, Y/N could smell him, familiar and deep, as if the very essence of him had lodged itself in her nose, up her brain, and made a home for himself. “I understand.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Charles sighed, voice deep, as he, too, breathed her in deeply. “I’d rather hold you, here, forever, than catch a stupid plane.”
“You say that now, but when you win a race, you’ll forget all about me,” she teased, opening her eyes to meet Charles’s brilliant greens.
“Not true, cherie. You’re always the first thing I think of when I win. Every win is for you.” And, as if to emphasize the point, he placed a soft kiss on her nose.
Y/N rolled her E/C eyes, a wide smile stretching across her face at the kiss despite herself. “Charles, I’m already your girlfriend. There’s no need for your sweet words to convince me to be yours.”
“It’s the truth, cherie,” he chuckled, “I always think of you first, win or lose. That’s how much I love you.”
“I love you, too.” And then she pulled his face to hers, placing a kiss on his lips that had him grinning against her like a little school boy offered candy by his mother. He pulled her to him tightly, his arms wrapping around her waist as her hands wound itself around his soft hair. Kissing him always made her feel so dizzy, like the very air in her lungs left her to make space for him. She didn’t mind it one bit. She’d make space for him in every inch of her if she could. 
But one of them had to be responsible and it certainly wouldn’t be Charles. So, despite not wanting to, Y/N found herself pulling away, breathing heavy as her hands trailed from his head, down his neck and on his chest. She resisted the urge to smirk at finding his heart beating just as fast as her own.
“You’re making it harder for me to leave, cherie,” Charles panted, his hair mused where she threaded her fingers.
“Good,” she grinned as she reached up and flattened his head, “you should miss me as much as I miss you. Now go, Leclerc, or else I’ll receive a phone call from Carlos complaining that you kept them waiting.”
“I’ll see you again, cherie,” he smiled, eyes tinged with sadness.
“Of course you will. Good bye for now, mon amour.”
“Good bye for now.” And with one last kiss, Charles left. The door to their house closed behind him, the click echoing around their empty living room. All Y/N could hear was the sound of her own breathing, and when she was sure that he was far enough away, she finally released a sob that had her chest caving, her heart suddenly feeling like beads inside a hollow rattle.
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I'm starin' at the same four walls in a different hotel It's an unfamiliar feelin' but I know it so well Oh, but you know the truth, I'd rather hold you Than this mobile in my hand But I guess it'll do, 'cause for you I would run up my phone bill
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You say I'm always leavin' You, when you need me the most But the, the car's outside
Y/N didn’t think he was serious about getting on a flight back home, especially when she knew how busy he was on Friday on a race week. Not to mention the fact that the race this week was in Mexico, halfway across the world. But here he was, in the flesh, staring at her with those bright green eyes that she adored so much.
Of course, she should have expected this. Charles was nothing if not determined and when he said he was going to do something, he usually did it.
“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.” Charles said as he barreled into their shared apartment, pushing past her and towards the living room, “I can’t stay long. Joris and Enzo are waiting outside to take me back to the airport.”
Past the front door, Y/N saw Lorenzo leaning against an expensive looking sports car next to Joris. Enzo as lifted a hand in greeting while Joris smiled at her. Y/N returned the greetings before she closed the door and turned to her boyfriend. Her brows were furrowed as she frowned at him, following him to their spacious living room. “What are you doing here? You have a race!”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls and I can’t race properly when I know we’re not okay.” Charles said as he ran his hands through his curls, sticking them up in odd angles. With a jolt, Y/N realized how long his hair was. The last time she saw him, he had just gotten a fresh cut from Pascale but now his hair was touching the nape of his neck. Has it really been that long?
Y/N took a deep breath before she spoke, gathering her patience as into a tight ball like freshly spun yarn. “Charles, this can wait—“
“No, it can’t,” Charles interjected, his words clipped and his tone sharp. “You were the one who wanted to talk and I’m already here so let’s talk. Do you want to end things or not, Y/N?”
“What?” She exclaimed, surprised at the sudden question. She wanted many things to happen but breaking up was definitely not on the list of things she wanted to do with him. Yes, they had their issues but she couldn’t imagine any of them could be solved by ending their relationship. “Of course not! Do you want to end things?”
Charles looked offended at the question. “No! I don’t want to end things. I want us to be together!”
“You sure don’t act like it!” She snapped before she could think about her next words. Part of her wished she could gobble up the words, stuff them back in her mouth before he could hear them but it was too late. Charles’ expression turned wounded, but his words held anger when he spoke.
“I told you about this before we started dating! I told you about my busy schedule. You came into this relationship with both eyes open, Y/N. Don’t act like you didn’t know about how busy I get!”
Y/N looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. She was beginning to get irrationally angry, and though Y/N was usually very good at compartmentalizing, there was something about the argument that had her wanting to scream. “Dammit, Charles! I know I signed up for this when we started dating but I also signed up for the breaks in between! I thought we could make it work then. But even during the breaks, you’re not here! And I make the time and I make the sacrifices to be here so imagine my disappointment when you don’t!”
“I told you to come to my races!” He yelled, his voice loud and echoing in their living room. His face was beginning to flush in anger, green eyes blazing as he spoke to her. “You’re always welcome there. I don’t know why you never come!”
“It’s hard to find any time to come to your races when I planned all of my time off around your breaks, Charles!” She yelled back. “Because, believe it or not, I don’t want to share you! Not when I barely see you as is. When I come to your races, I know you’ll be too busy doing your job to accommodate me and that’s okay. It’s more than fine. I’m happy to watch you do what you love to do. But, I want to at least see you. To feel you and hear you and talk to you. And I can’t do that during a race weekend because you’re busy and I refuse to be the clingy girlfriend trying to catch all of your attention. I planned my days off around your break period because I figured, that’s when I’ll see you more and actually spend some meaningful time together. But you’re never around! I get it, Charles. Ferrari comes first. I know what I signed up for. But lately, they’ve been coming second and third and fourth. When will it be my turn, Charles? Am I even on the list of your priorities?”
“Of course you are!”
“It sure doesn’t seem like it.”
Charles looked at her as if she’d struck him. “How can you say that when you know it’s not true. I love you, Y/N. You know that.”
She sighed, some of the fight leaving her body. “I do know that, Charles. I never said you didn’t love me. But just because you love me doesn’t mean I feel loved by you. I want to make things work. I try to make things work. But, sometimes it feels like you’re never around. And, I get it, you have a demanding job—“
“Don’t put all of this on me like your job is easy.” He scoffed, his eyes flashing in annoyance once again. “Your schedule is even more demanding than mine, and I’m sure that with your new job, you’ll have even less time for me.”
“Are you serious, Charles?” She hissed, her anger coming back in droves at his words, “You’re putting this on me? I make the time for you! Rather than seeing my family and friends during my breaks, I’m in Monaco for you and you always cancel on me at the last minute and I never complain! You were the one who missed our anniversary dinner!”
“And you miss my races!”
“You missed my promotion!”
“You never told me about your promotion!”
“How can I when you ditched me on our anniversary!” 
“I told you why I missed it! The upgrades were important—“
“AM I NOT IMPORTANT, CHARLES?” She screamed. Briefly, she wondered if their neighbors could hear them, if Enzo and Joris could but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, couldn’t bring herself to lift her gaze at him as she said her next words softly, the fight leaving her body. “The anniversary wasn’t the only thing you missed. You missed my birthday, too. You didn’t even greet me but I took it to stride because I knew you were busy. I didn’t complain until now because I understood. Even when you promised me you’d fly home for your birthday so we can celebrate together and then you cancelled because of the Ferrari party and the interview, I understood. I plan all of my time off around you and never around my family or my friends, who, by the way, live in another country because I know you want to spend time with me. I always understand, Charles. I understand so much that sometimes I feel like I’m always making the sacrifices for our relationship and never you. And whenever I think to myself, I wish he’d choose me for once, it makes me feel like I’m a terrible person because I know you’re out there trying to achieve your dreams just like me and yet here I am, complaining that I don’t get enough time with you. You’re always promising to make it up to me but you never do and—” A familiar lump formed at the back of her throat, choking her words as a searing heat prickled the back of her eyes.
She loved Charles, she really did. But it was beginning to feel like that love was one sided. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what loving a man like him entailed. She expected that they’ll rarely see each other but at the rate things were going, they didn’t see each other at all. And judging by the way Charles was looking at her, with the anger in his eyes replaced by shame, he was beginning to realize that too.
“I missed your birthday?” Charles said taken aback. 
“You were in Canada,” she shrugged miserably, “you were busy. I didn’t think I should remind my boyfriend when my birthday is. If you couldn’t remember, that just means you had more important things in mind.”
Shame coated his eyes as realization dawned on him. “I can’t believe I missed your birthday.”
She sniffled as she swiped at the tears that began to collect in her eyes. “It’s fine—“
“No, it’s not. I am an asshole, cherie,” Charles groaned as he pulled her in his embrace. His chest was warm, his arms even warmer as he tucked her head under his chin. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’m always apologizing to you and it’s not right. None of this is your fault. I’m sorry for saying those terrible things to you. I can’t believe you put up with me treating you like this for a whole year. Missing your birthday, and my birthday and our anniversary. Fuck, you’re right and it doesn’t make you a bad person to think those things because you’re right. I’m so sorry.”
Oh, darling, all of the city lights Never shine as bright as your eyes I would trade them all for a minute more But the car's outside And he's called me twice
Guilt, heavy and shameful, curled in his insides. 
No wonder she was so upset with him. Every iota of her fury and more, he deserved for the shitty way he’s been treating her.
“I’m so sorry, cherie,” Charles mumbled against her hair. The smell of her shampoo, as familiar to him as his own was, invaded his sense. “I’m so sorry.”
He could feel her hands begin to wrap around his midsection. It was soft at first, tentative, before she tightened her hold on him like she was stuck in the middle of the sea and he was the lifeboat that saved her. He could feel her leaning her weight against him, the feel of her body a reassuring weight he didn’t realize he lost but was finding his whole life.
“I’m staying,” he said, pressing kisses against her head in between his words, “we’re going to celebrate everything. Your birthday, mine, our anniversary, even your promotion. You deserve as much. You deserve even more. Come fly with me, baby. Let’s go, wherever you want.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N said as she pulled away from him, eyes wide as she peered at him through her lashes.
“I’m staying here, in Monaco, with you.” He said slowly, conviction filling him as he said the words.
She gave him a dubious look. “Charles, it’s a race week. We both know you can’t miss that. It’s in Mexico for crying out loud! That’s why halfway across the world. You need to be back on the plane now if you want to make it back by Sunday.”
“I don’t care.” He said stubbornly. “None of it matters without you. Ferrari already took my breaks. I can sacrifice a race or two” And then his lips pulled into a rueful smile. “Besides, I’m not in the running for the championship anyway.”
Her eyes were still twinkling from the unshed tears, and despite the frown pulling at her lips, Charles had never thought she looked as beautiful as she did today. “But Charles, I have a job to do. I’m set to leave for London two days from now.”
His phone rang, interrupting their conversation. He fished it out of his pocket with a sigh, seeing Enzo’s face flashing on the screen. His arms were still wrapped around Y/N as he answered the phone
“Charles, nous devons partir,” Enzo urged.. (Charles, we need to leave.)
“I’m not going anywhere,” Charles replied, eyes trained on Y/N, who was watching the whole exchange with wide, reproachful eyes. “I’m right where I need to be.”
“Quoi?” (What)
“Cancel my flight, Enzo. I’m not going back. You and Joris can go home. Tell Maman I love her,” he said, ending the call before his brother could protest.
“Charles you can’t just leave in the middle of the weekend.” Y/N said, looking at him like he’d grown two heads.
“Yes, I can.” He said determinedly as he placed his hands on the side of her face, caressing her cheek as he stared deeply into her eyes in an effort to try and make her understand just how serious he really was. “I’m not racing this week. Or next week.”
“You’re going to miss Brazil too?”
“Yes. It’s time I choose you for once. I’ll race back in Vegas and Abu Dhabi but they’re lucky they’ll get even that. I chose them time and time again, cherie, and it’s not right. This is me making it up to you.” He pulled her face to his, placing a kiss on her lips. It was slow and languid, like the winding of a stopped clock that you’re trying to make right. Charles knew how lucky he was to have Y/N and she didn’t deserve to be forgotten, especially not like this. All he’s done was give her empty promises and if there was anyone in the world that deserved the best, it was her.
She pulled away from the kiss, loss of her making him groan. “What about my job? I have so much to do when I get to London. I won’t be in Monaco until the first week of November and the breaks will be far and few in between.”
“Then take me with you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” he said before pulling her into another kiss, this one searing and needy. He felt her pull him towards her, closing whatever distance was between them until their bodies lined flushed against the other. He could feel her figure through their clothes, feel the way her breath hitched as his hands found themselves on her waist, thumbs skimming the soft feel of her skin. She gasped at his touch and the feral feeling that seized him had the tether in him snapping. He kissed her harder, hands winding down to the back of her legs and lifting her. Almost instinctively, Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, her feet crossing at his back. Her hands wound themselves around his hair, pulling at the strands in a delicious way that made him shudder. 
How could he choose Ferrari over and over again when they would never be able to make him feel this way? He doubted not even winning a race in Monaco would feel as she good as she does.
His phone rang again, interrupting their moment. Charles groans as he pulled away and Y/N’s laugh rang around their living room. If another phone call interrupts them again, he’s getting rid of this thing. He clicked the green button, Fred’s face flashing as he answered the call with one hand while the other continued to grip Y/N.
“Charles—“
“I’ll see you in Vegas, Fred.” Was the only thing he said before Charles clicked the red button and tossed the phone aside, focusing his whole attention back on his girlfriend.
But he's gonna have to wait tonight I'm not gettin' in the Addison Lee Unless you pack your bags You're comin' with me I'm tired of lovin' from afar And never being where you are Close the windows, lock the doors Don't wanna leave you anymore
“You mean it? You’re really skipping Mexico and Brazil for me?” Y/N asked, her voice hopeful as she spoke. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, fingers playing at the strands of his hair.
“I am.” He said with all the seriousness he could muster. “I love you, cherie, and I want to love you by your side. You’re my number one priority and I’m sorry that it took me so long to remember that. I know I’ll have to leave again but that doesn’t mean I have to leave you. I love you, cherie. Will you let me come with you?”
“Of course I will.” She smiled, before she leaning her face to him, continuing their kiss right were they left off. 
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409 notes · View notes
snorlaxlovesme · 4 months
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alright everybody, it's time we talked about Hostage. (buckle up because this is going to be long, but it'll be worth it)
season 2 episode 8 of Link Click was one of the most confounding episodes in the entire season while airing. starting with Lu Guang's insane boat crash/martial arts smackdown rescue of Cheng Xiaoshi and ending with Cheng Xiaoshi diving into a photo to possess Lu Guang to get answers for his actions, from start to finish it was a wild ass ride where we, the fandom, AND the characters spent the whole time questioning Lu Guang and his motives
and...puzzlingly... didn't really get an answers by the end of the season
Lu Guang wasn't granted any post-climax time to explain what happened that day from his perspective, and while Cheng Xiaoshi was possessing him he didn't get any answers because he literally WAS Lu Guang, just doing whatever the hell he thought he needed to do.
the thing about Hostage that has always felt extremely off to me, is that we DO get explanations for Lu Guang's actions during the episode, but they're from people wholly unqualified to be giving them.
Captain Xiao finds Lu Guang's phone, hidden in a folded towel, and concludes that Lu Guang had left them clues. Qiao Ling, after seeing that Lu Guang had taken a photo that night, came to the conclusion that Cheng Xiaoshi must have been the one possessing Lu Guang during his deranged rescue plan at the pier, seeing as Lu Guang wasn't an adept fighter at the dojo and he was acting extremely impulsive. She even goes so far to say, later in the episode, that Cheng Xiaoshi HAS to dive into the photo, because it's already happened, and needs to follow Lu Guang's words to not change the timeline.
all of these assumptions, to me, are horseshit
I refuse to listen to ANYTHING Captain Xiao says. one, because he simply does not know these kids and should not be making assumptions about them, and two he is in fact the worst cop in the world. and Qiao Ling, bless her heart, has only found out how their powers work mere DAYS ago and doesn't understand the nuances of them at all
so I'm gonna debunk all that nonsense and explain to you what Lu Guang's REAL actions were that night, and what was up with that cryptic photo he took
now you might be thinking, Kelly, you're not even starting in the right place, because those weren't Lu Guang's actions, they were always Cheng Xiaoshi's, just in Lu Guang's body!
FALSE. on two counts! we have evidence of Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi performing the act of escaping the hospital differently. Lu Guang does not use the kettle to break the window to distract the cops. we're not sure what he uses, but that kettle is still there.
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Lu Guang also places his phone face down in the towel
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while Cheng Xiaoshi places it faceup
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so by the end of the episode we have literal, physical evidence that these two performed this timeline differently, and therefore it was not "Cheng Xiaoshi the whole time" like Qiao Ling tried to misinform us to believe. i also have another Big Brain post [x] that explains why Lu Guang being an impulsive, supposedly "good" fighter during that pier rescue scene are both in-character for him.
(and if we wanna get really nitpicky about how an injured Lu Guang could have raced across town in his condition, i simply believe that Lu Guang was smarter about it that Cheng Xiaoshi, and probably took a bus or cab. Cheng Xiaoshi, pure of heart and dumb of ass, ran because HE physically could while inhabiting Lu Guang's body. our injured catboy did not sprint across town while holding his organs in place)
so if we already have all this cold, hard evidence stating that Lu Guang really is THAT bitch and did all that shit on his own, what the hell is my problem? why can I not let this episode go?
BECAUSE I WANNA KNOW WHY LU GUANG TOOK THAT PHOTO
Captain Useless seems to think that Lu Guang took that photo as some sort of helpful clue left behind for the gang
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but what, pray tell, was this photo supposed to tell us without someone with Lu Guang's powers there to interpret it? without Lu Guang to tell him what to do, Cheng Xiaoshi left to his own devices knows just as much as himself as he does possessing Lu Guang
and, the bigger question, is if this was supposed to be some sort of almighty clue for the gang, why did he not text this photo to either Qiao Ling or Cheng Xiaoshi before escaping the hospital? he took the time to text Qiao Ling the location of the boat, did he not? why not the photo too? seems like a crappy way to clue someone in, to take a photo and save it on your password protected phone that you just went out of your way to hide from plain sight
because that's the thing! after the season finale we discover that Lu Guang's password is literally a reminder of his dive, or even more specifically, a reminder of his trauma. we KNOW that he didn't share his password with Cheng Xiaoshi, he just just happened to figure it out on his own
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so tell me how Lu Guang expected this trauma-password protected phone, with it's one singular picture, to get in the hands of Cheng Xiaoshi, hmm? riddle me THAT
so we've established by now that 1. Lu Guang's actions in the beginning of episode 8 were indeed his own and 2. that photo was never meant to be seen by Cheng Xiaoshi, who shouldn't have known Lu Guang's passcode
given the trauma-passcode, we have to believe that the only person ever meant to see this photo was Lu Guang. i've made ANOTHER post previously [x] stating that Lu Guang might have used his powers in a way we haven't known possible, by taking a photo and using his Blue Eyes White Dragon powers to see 12 hours into the immediate future
plausible, but not what i'm about to propose now.
because I think Lu Guang took that photo as a contingency plan
listen, the only person who had ANY credentials to theorize what Lu Guang was up to that night was his trusted partner. while Qiao Ling and Captain Xiao spouted their nonsense theories, Cheng Xiaoshi said the only smart thing that entire brainstorming session
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and I think Cheng Xiaoshi was right. he wasn't wrong in assuming this photo was a Save Point of sorts, the only thing he was wrong about was who would be using it
the only other person in this show capable of diving into a photo, we find out during the finale, is Lu Guang
we also find out in the finale that powers are transferrable, and it looks like they transfer when the owner of that power dies in someone else's arms
Lu Guang took that photo that night NOT for Cheng Xiaoshi to find and use, but for LU GUANG himself to use. i believe Lu Guang firmly believed that Cheng Xiaoshi was to die that night, and he would do everything in his power to make sure he had a chance to change it again if he needed to.
that meant:
1.taking a photo on his phone as a Save Point.
2. hiding his phone in the hospital bathroom so it could not be taken from him or busted later in the night. and
3. racing to where he knew Cheng Xiaoshi would be, so he could either
4. a.) rescue him, or b.) ensure that during CXS's death, the diving power was transferred back to him so he could do the night over again.
Lu Guang took that photo as contingency plan to save Cheng Xiaoshi's life should he get killed that night.
but that plan was botched when Cheng Xiaoshi used it instead to possess Lu Guang, because each photo can only be used once.
which might also explain why Lu Guang was SO DISTRAUGHT when Cheng Xiaoshi was shot
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they had deleted all their photos earlier that week to prevent the twins from possessing them remotely
that was the last photo Lu Guang had taken. the ONLY photo on his phone. if Cheng Xiaoshi died that night, there would have been no Save Point to return to
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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year
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In Sickness...
Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader
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Summary: Jake feels his pulse jump and his stomach fly when he talks to or about you. Obviously, this must mean he's gravely ill.
Notes: mentions of a cheating boyfriend, jake convinced he's sick when really he is in loooveeee
Masterlist
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“Hey, Hangman, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Jake, despite his usual goal of doing everything in his power to get on Phoenix’s nerves, finds himself ignoring the need to be quite annoying. His antics aside, he knew his fellow aviator well enough by now to recognise when she was up for his shit, and when she absolutely wasn’t.
That doesn’t mean he’s not going to be a little bit of a douchebag, though.
“Give me a second, Trace, I’ll need to start my timer.” he makes a show of observing his watch and starting a countdown from sixty seconds. Phoenix ignores him, and in place of possibly giving him a dead arm, she instead comes to a stop in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that was just a Natasha Thing, and not actually a sign of closed body language-thing
“You’re going to be at Mav and Penny’s later, right?” she asks, even though he knows he’s never given the impression of having any other plans, and she knows it. Jake simply nods, still pretending to count down.
“Right. Well… maybe take it easy on Cricket tonight, okay?” Phoenix asks him, her voice soft and quiet in a manner that makes Jake mess up his countdown, and subsequently drop his wrist and the bit entirely.
“I’m under the impression that I always take it easy on my favourite member of the orthopteran insect family,” he poses, and it's not untrue. He didn’t snipe with Cricket like he did with the others, mostly because she never sniped back, so trying to maintain a faux adversarial relationship would just be boring. No, Cricket was far sweeter and more wholesome than literally anyone he’d ever met, like Elle Woods had a lovechild with Barbie, and instead of banter, he’d found it irresistible and perpetually rewarding to tease her about her Certified Disney Princess status.
(Jake will never let her forget the time a small child at the beach approached her to ask if she was a mermaid, and that wasn’t even the only instance he’d witnessed something like that happening.)
 Phoenix shifts uncomfortably in front of him and purses her lips.
“Look, just… give her a break tonight,” she pushes. Jake frowns even deeper, his own mood becoming solemn now.
“What's wrong? Is she alright?” the questions leave his mouth before he can really consider perhaps only asking one, to keep some semblance of cool. Phoenix dances from foot to foot again and nods, but then quickly makes the universal noise, gesture and expression of ‘well, no, actually’.
“She, uh, broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago.” Nat reveals, and oddly, it's the last thing Jake was expecting to hear, and the last thing he’d expect her to divulge to him.
“Oh.” he says, a little unsure of what else to say. Blinking rapidly, Phoenix starts nodding again, this time in a sort of commiserating manner, as if they often gossiped.
“Yeah, she came home to find the prick was fucking one of his colleagues…” She all but spits the words. Her hands form fists where they’re still tucking into her folded arms.
“She's actually really torn up about it, but you know Cricket. She’s not very good at not being positive, you know? So she’s just bottling it up, and I figured, maybe your usual game with her might not be so lighthearted right now. You know she would never tell you if you actually hurt her feelings, so…” Phoenix manages to catch herself before she descends into a full on ramble.
In all the years he’d known her, Jake had only ever witnessed Phoenix fully ramble once, several years ago back in Lemoore, when she and Halo had downed eight shots in ten minutes, and she then proceeded to give him a thirty minute TEDTalk about how cockroaches were basically just incredibly simple AI machines, interrupted every so often when she dozed off against his shoulder, only to pick right back up like nothing had happened.
Pushing the memory aside, Jake takes in her words slowly before at last he releases a deep breath.
He actually finds himself a little taken aback by the sheer depth of anger that lances through him at the thought of Cricket being treated like that. Nobody deserves to be cheated on, but Cricket was simply someone that Jake doesn’t believe anything bad should ever happen to. Around the same time he comes to this conclusion, Jake also becomes aware that as his anger simmers down, he’s struck with the need to seek out his squadmate, and comfort her, something which, if Jake is honest with himself, is not something he has much experience with. He was much more likely to offer space to someone in need, so this sudden urge causes his brow to furrow.
Jake chooses to compartmentalise this oddness for now, but makes a mental note for later to figure out when exactly he’d developed such a strong fondness for Cricket, and more importantly, how exactly that had happened without him knowing.
For now, Jake just gives Pheonix a level nod, and what he hopes is an expression she takes to mean he understands. He then tries to get a hold of his rogue fondness and leashes it with what he thinks is a brotherly, friendly reaction, a more normal reaction for him to have towards his squadmate.
“Does she want him punched or something?” he asks, feeling as though anything more would reveal too much of his scattered, fond thoughts. Jake purses his lips when he realises that ‘fondness’ was quickly becoming an understatement he’ll have to address at some point.
Phoenix's lips curve into a genuine smile, and she chortles softly, shaking her head.
“Well, you’ll have to get in line if she does. I’ve got first dibs.” she states, cracking her knuckles and then her neck, making Jake snort, and shrug, glad to know that perhaps he wasn't the only one suddenly feeling protective.
“I’m sure we could come up with a wrestlemania-worthy finishing move, a la The Hardy Boys to sort him out.” Jake chortles, imagining he and Nat in matching championship belts, and ignoring her raised eyebrow. He knows from that one movement alone that she is filing this information about him away to whip out like a trap card, but compared to the other information she might have gleaned from his reaction to the situation, he doesn’t care so much.
(Besides, Jake felt no shame about his love for Attitude-Era WWE, and if he ever gets the chance to repay her for the thirty minutes of cockroach facts he could have lived his whole life without needing to know, well, now he knew exactly what his topic of choice would be.)
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Four hours later, Jake, for some reason, cannot stop thinking about his conversation with Phoenix. He tried chalking it up to the fact that it was an unusual request she’d made of him, but he knows that is bull. Jake is far too invested all of a sudden in your personal life, in your feelings, in a way that honestly, he never has been before. Or at least, has never realised before, because the more Jake lingers on the idea that you were cheated on, he has to confront the fact that these feelings might just have been there all along, and that actually, your happiness and wellbeing are extremely important to him.
He keeps his distance when you arrive with Halo at Penny and Mav’s, but he eyes you hawkishly anyway, uncaring if he’s obvious about it or not. He wants to believe that if he hadn’t known, he’d have spotted your much more reserved demeanour immediately, but honestly, he's not really sure of anything now when it comes to you. Jake isn’t sure if Phoenix spoke to the others, if he was just the last to know, but there is an air of tenderness in the way the others greet you, which wasn't entirely unusual in itself, yet the softness is palpable even from where he sits on the other side of the yard.
He watches you put on a good show, smiling sweetly at Penny as she rushes over to say hello, but the moment you dont think others are paying attention, your features fall and Jake decides that it is basically unacceptable for you to look that sad ever again.
When you disappear through the backdoor, to put the share platter you’ve bought into the fridge he assumes, Jake doesn’t even excuse himself from the conversation he’s supposedly in before he’s beelining for the house. Behind him, he can vaguely hear Javy and Payback protest, but he doesn’t pay them any mind.
Jake steps through the sliding back doors quietly, closing the door behind him and shutting out the rest of the barbeque, if only for a few minutes. He moves softly through the small back room and towards the kitchen, once more surprised to find out just how pleased he is when you turn to look at him right away. That was new… or was it? Jake thinks perhaps he should stop trying to figure things out.
“Hey! Jake!” you greet cheerfully, and he’s comforted a little that your smile reaches your eyes.
“I didn’t catch you this afternoon, so I didn't get to find out your fruit platter preference, but Javy told me anything but pineapple–” you launch right away into friendly conversation, and oddly, this small normality brings him comfort too, after his afternoon of quiet worry. Jake nods at your words as you continue explaining your fruit platter, and if he hadn't other things on his mind, he would have voiced his amusement at the fact you’d somehow managed to cut or arrange all the fruits into the shape of jets.
Anger bubbles in him once again, at the idea that anybody would do anything to cause you to be upset. You, who cuts fruit into themed shapes, and who makes sure to ask every member of the team their food preferences, and who, he’s almost certain, has made the yoghurt dip you're currently unwrapping completely from scratch just for this casual get together.
How could any sane person know you, know how sweet and caring and fundamentally, altogether good you are, and still choose to do something that would hurt you?
More importantly, how could a man be with you and want anyone else?
Jake takes a step forward and fixes you with what he hopes is not an expression that reflects his inner anger, but gives off something more like softness. He’s not sure he’s ever really had a serious conversation with you before, especially not one that wasn't about work, so he’s surprised how natural it feels to show you something more genuine than his usual playful amusement.
“Are you alright?” he hears himself ask you, almost regretting it when your expression drops immediately, and you look away from him, back to your fruit platter which you now seem to be pointless rearranging just so you don't have to look at him. You attempt to wave him off after a few moments, plastering a smile on and scrunching your nose as you continue to not look at him.
“I’m okay. Really. Things weren’t right for a while, so it’s sort of a relief, really.”
Jake thinks that maybe in a few months time, those words might actually be believable, but Phoenix was right. You were such a naturally happy and uplifting person, it’s clear to Jake that you were struggling to let yourself be sad or angry about it all.
You seem to be expecting him to speak, because you glance back at him several times before you seem to really get a look at his face, at which point you stop messing with your platter and turn to face him properly.
“Thank you for asking, though, I… I really appreciate that,” you murmur, wringing your hands together, before realising what you’re doing and smoothing them out over your sundress instead. Jake feels his pulse speed up. Or maybe it slows, he’s not sure, he just knows that his heart beat becomes irregular, and before he knows what he's doing, he’s stepping even closer towards you.
“Cricket,” he begins, a frown beginning to crease his brow, which your eyes flicker to consciously, as if you were concerned about his feelings. “Just say the word, and his nose will be irreparably broken. For the rest of his life he’ll be telling people it's an old football injury. Maybe he’ll even need surgery to fix it enough that it’s even remotely normal again,” Jake watches your eyes widen and blink as he speaks, but he makes sure to keep any trace of humour from his voice, so you properly understand just how serious he’s being. “Hell, it doesn't even need to be his nose. I’ll break his collarbone, I've heard that's the most painful in the long run…”
When you let out a soft sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh, Jake almost thinks he needs to rephrase his offer, but your soft smile and the almost shy look you shoot at him before you drop your gaze for a moment assures him you understood that he wasn’t joking, even a little.
“Sometimes…” you purse your lips and frown, struggling to find the right words, but you begin wringing your hands slowly again and the movement seems to lend you some confidence. “Sometimes I really wish I could be more like Phoenix… or, more like anybody else, really–” Jake has to physically clamp his mouth shut to stop himself protesting that point and let you talk.
“Sometimes, I wish I was someone who would take you up on that offer. I… I feel like I should want to want that… but I don’t…” you trail off and sigh again, but this time, the exhale seems to take a weight off your chest, like simply admitting these feelings out loud was what you really needed.
You look back up at him properly, and smile again. Jake thinks his pulse has stopped altogether now, and begins to seriously consider reporting to medical first thing Monday morning.
“But, I promise that if I ever change my mind about the severe breaking of certain bones, I’ll know exactly who to talk to.” Your smile widens just slightly, a little mischievous almost, like even just joking about it was very cheeky of you. Jake on the other hand, just believes it to be the only correct course of action.
He opens his mouth to respond, but you begin talking again, dropping your fidgeting hands to hang more relaxed at your sides.
“A lot of my life I haven’t really been surrounded by people who’ve looked out for me, or folks who I can really trust… and I know we’re not really friends, more like work friends, but–” you suddenly cut yourself off and shake your head with a little chortle.
“It doesn’t matter, ignore me–”
“–We’re friends.” Jake can’t stop himself from protesting this time. You blink at him like this is surprising to you. “We are friends, Cricket… I know I–” Jake cuts himself off like you had just done and grinds his teeth a little. This was not a conversation he went around having very often, if ever, at all. “You know I wouldn’t poke fun at you if I didn’t care. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think we were friends,” he says, hoping his words didn’t give away exactly how much he cared. You seem to search his face, but you’re nodding, as if he was the one who needed assuring in this situation.
Jake starts to wonder then if he was actually becoming seriously ill, and all of his reaction to this afternoon has just been one big fugue episode. That idea is genuinely more believable to him at this moment, that Jake is really, actually currently unconscious in the on base hospital, with a skyrocketing fever and some other terrible things, than all of this sudden personal change and inner realisation happening so naturally and smoothly and without him having a say in it.
But then you’re smiling at him again, bright and genuine and all thoughts of climbing fevers and sudden illness evaporate. As sad as it sounds, Jake would never dream of you smiling at him like that, the sight so affecting and sweet that he could never come up with on his own. However, he does conclude he’ll probably be seeing it a lot in his dreams from now on. He thinks this should cause panic in him, he should not be planning to dream about one of his squad mates smiling at him, but unsurprisingly to him now, panic is the furthest thing he feels about it.
“Well, I just know that I’m not always good at asserting myself, but I know that you guys… you guys will do it for me.” You give a little shrug. Jake feels a little shame then, that he’s worked with you for several months now and has not once picked up on the fact that you were completely aware of your own tendency to be a bit of a pushover.
It dawns on him that every time he teased you for being ‘too nice’, and every time you laughed or shook your head in amusement, the real joke was on him. It’s a joke that Jake doesn't find particularly funny right now. He’s not sure he ever will.
“Sorry, I’m being so dramatic and grim!” you say suddenly, and this time your mood change isn’t fake or put on. Jake shakes his head at you, and at last feels some of his regular programming begin to seep back in. He chooses to make a show of leaning back against the counter and carefully crosses his arms over his broad chest in a way that he knows looks incredibly sexy (Javy has assured him), a small smirk slowly spreading over his features.
“Cricket,” he drawls out slowly, somewhat relieved that he feels more himself again. You double take as you look back up at him from where you’ve started fiddling with your fruit platter again, your eyes blinking rapidly as you now quickly try to avoid his whole side of the room. Jake’s grin grows ever so slightly when he has your attention, even if you seem too nervous to look at him now.
Unlike most of the women Jake had worked with, you didn't seem to try to, or perhaps you simply were unable to, hide the effect Jake had on you, how he could so easily make you flustered. It's not something he’s totally unfamiliar with, after all, plenty of women around the Hard Deck were the exact same, but the fact that you aren't some civilian looking to get laid, and are in fact one of the best aviators he knows, makes it all the sweeter.
(Jake had once tried to reconcile the way you handled yourself in the air, with the way you were at all other times, but he could never quite do the maths on it, so it was better for his brain if he didn't think about it at all.)
Honestly, Jake knows his getting a reaction out of you is an act of self ego-stroking, but he loved making a spectacle of himself, just to watch how you would sputter and go all mushy, and if he’s even more honest, a big part of his enjoyment lay in the thought that perhaps, he was doing you a favour, giving you something to think about, boyfriend be damned. He supposes he doesn’t need to worry about that being a problem anymore.
Jake then pauses then, and wonders when exactly you having a boyfriend had become a ‘problem’, a threat to him specifically, because the more he thinks about the idea now (hypothetical as it is), the more his skin starts to itch under his shirt.
Perhaps he was getting sick after all.
“Yes, Jake?” you ask, still avoiding looking his way, and trying to use a tone of voice that was either exasperated or ignorant, but your slightly higher pitch gives you away.
“You didn’t say that I was your friend, too,” he faux complains, watches you shake your head a little, but fail completely at keeping the smile off of your face.
With your platter now deemed ready, you pick it up and turn toward him, holding it out for him to take. Jake, without thought, does so.
“You are my friend, too, Jake,” you tell him, far more sincerely this time, and Jake feels his pulse do that odd thing again. He swallows thickly, and nods, before you direct him out the back door.
For the rest of the afternoon, Jake can’t help but hover, never moving too far away from where you are, and when he doesn’t have an excuse to linger close to you, he always keeps one eye directed your way.
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Lucky Break Chapter 4
Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader
5.8k words
Beginning / Previous / Next
The longest chapter yet, but at least this arc is finally wrapped up!
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Just as you thought, you could hear them before you could see them.
“Sounds like they’ve got this covered. I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I need to go get something that belongs to me. Bye!” Nami slapped you on the shoulder and then diverted from the path you were following.
“Wait, I don’t have anything planned! What am I supposed to do about any of this?!” You called out after her, but she paid you no mind, the woman was on a mission. The light jog you were doing trickled down into a standstill. 
What were you supposed to do?
There isn’t exactly a guide for this, and even if there was, you can’t remember having read it. 
There was yelling and the sound of weapons clashing no more than a block away from you. Wait- That’s it! Weapons! You need a weapon! You can’t just charge into battle and help your new companions empty handed.
But where would you find one? Well, this town is something of a war zone, maybe there’s a weapon lying around? You would settle for even just a kitchen knife at this point. Literally anything to give you some semblance of protection.
Hoping that Luffy and Zoro will be okay until you can help, you scurry down an alleyway. “Come on, come on, give me something,” you mutter under your breath. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning the surrounding area. There are some stray bricks and broken planks of wood from the buildings being destroyed. That could work potentially, but you decide to look around a little longer.
A structure catches your eye ahead of you. Scaffolding next to a house that hadn’t been finished  yet. A relieved grin spreads across your face. Construction tools! You could use a saw or a hammer or something like that!
There were some crates and tool boxes lying on the ground, all open. The boxes have what appear to be blueprints and building materials. The toolboxes are damn near empty. Some nails and screws litter the bottom of it, plus a couple of tools that won’t help you like a tape measure. 
“Shit!” You kicked the nearest toolbox in anger. What were you supposed to do? Bare knuckle box some armed super-powered pirates? Feeling crushed and frustrated, you drop down into a squat and put your head between your hands, pulling on your hair.
This was so stupid and unfair. You can’t even remember your own name, and now the only people willing to help you are having to fight on their own while injured and you’re helpless to do anything. Why are you even here? For what purpose? What happened to get you to this point?
A rush of air, followed by a clanging noise right in front of you startled you. The shock made you fall onto your ass, scared that you were under attack. A quick once over of the alley revealed that you were still alone. What was that?
Then, a piece of paper flits to the ground just ahead of you. It lands on a coiled piece of metal that you don’t remember being there before. Is that what made the noise? Hesitantly, you reach out to grab the paper. There’s something written on it.
“Lucky”
What an interesting event
Losing your memories was not my intent
To aid in your journey
Please take this urumi 
“A”
Next to the letter “A”, was an ink stamp. One you recognized. You fished out the necklace from under your shirt, and sure enough, the stamp matched it. A jolly roger with a wand clenched between its teeth.
Where did you get this necklace from initially, and how did “A” know about your new nickname? How did they know where you were? You look up at the rooftops, but see nothing and no one. You hadn’t heard anyone approach either. It’s like these things just appeared out of thin air.
Much like you did according to Luffy.
A loud explosion rang out and shook the ground. Oh right! You’re supposed to be in a battle! You clamber onto your feet and pick up the so-called urumi by what you believe to be a handle while stuffing the note into your satchel. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you have no idea what an urumi is supposed to be. You assume it’s a weapon, but why would a weapon be so… limp?
The “blade”, if you can call it that, unraveled and drooped to the ground. It was like some bizarre love child of a whip and a sword. How was something like this supposed to help you? Is it even sharp? Gingerly, you stroke the edges of the blade. 
“Ow! Okay, yeah, that’s sharp,” just lightly touching in was enough to draw a couple drops of blood. You bring the finger to your mouth, feeling a little dumb now for managing to cut yourself within seconds of getting your hands on this thing. You have no idea how to use any weapon, much less one so unique.
Experimentally, you hold it out and flick the blade away from you. It cuts through the air and cleanly slices through a leg of the scaffolding like a hot knife through butter. The structure shifts slightly, but remains standing.
You can’t help but eye the weapon warily, this thing seems extremely dangerous. Great for dealing with enemies, bad for you if you aren’t careful and don’t know what you’re doing. Which you don’t.
It would be good to go and help your companions now that you’re armed but you want to get a better feel for this thing before charging into battle. Swaying it back and forth is helping to get a better feel for the weight of it, but the method in which you could safely wield it is still beyond you.
“There she is! The liar that tricked and made a fool of us!”
You were so focused that you hadn’t even heard the small band of enemies approaching. Their clothes were torched and skin burned, and they looked furious. With swords raised, they ran right at you, bloodlust in their eyes.
A shriek emitted from your throat, and your arm flailed as you panicked. The urumi’s blade struck the scaffolding again, effortlessly going through several legs before wedging itself into the brick wall. The structure pitched forward and groaned. Your attackers looked up just in time to see the whole thing come down on them. All of them were pinned under the weight of it plus the supplies that had been piled on. Some of the people were knocked out by the falling material, while one was left awake.
He was trapped, but could move his head just enough to scowl at you. “I bet you think you’re really clever! Well you won’t get away with this, Captain Buggy never loses! It’s only a matter of time before he takes your head for this trickery!” Venom dripped from every word, his loathing so tangible that you think you could cut it.
“Not really, I’ve just,” you yanked on the urumi, trying to dislodge it, “got a lot of dumb luck it seems.” And some magical note and weapon giver, but that’s hardly something to bring up in casual conversation. Damn, that thing was really in there. You readjust your grip and pull again. There’s a creak, and then it breaks free. It came loose so suddenly that it made you stumble as the blade flung around you, narrowly missing that one guy’s head.
The man screamed, pulling his head back into the rubble like a turtle retreating into its shell, “Are you trying to kill me?!”
“Weren’t you trying to kill me?!” The double standards up in here were insane. They could gang up on you, but you almost accidentally hit him and now you’re the bad guy? Ridiculous. He fell silent and didn’t answer, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get going.”
Realistically, you don’t think it’s a good idea to be slinging this thing around, especially near Luffy or Zoro, but it was comforting to at least have something now. You examine the urumi closely, contemplating the best way to carry it. There’s a loop on the handle, and you get an idea. 
Carefully, you wind it around your waist and feed it into the loop. Sure enough, it fits together snugly, and now it looks like you have a strange belt on. Alright, you’re feeling a little bit better now, hell you even stopped a few attackers (albeit accidentally).
Now it’s time to actually join the fight.
Well… Maybe you’ll assess the situation first. You just needed to figure out how to do so without being caught unprepared. Getting onto a rooftop could work. The house in front of you had a pretty low roof, climbing onto it shouldn’t be too hard. 
You kick a crate close and hop on. It takes some effort, sure, but you’re able to pull yourself up. The shingles dig into you through the clothes, but it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve been through today. Finally, you can see what’s going on. It looks like there are only four people involved in this fight. There’s Luffy and Zoro, of course. Buggy is also there, seemingly unharmed from the cannon fire earlier. You suppose that isn’t too surprising considering his weird powers. Then there’s also some guy on a unicycle because, sure, why not? 
Zoro and the unicyclist are fighting each other. Zoro is fighting hard, but it’s clear even from your perch that he’s struggling to fight with his injury. Luffy is too preoccupied with Buggy to be able to help him, and you’re positive that you would just hurt him more if you were to charge in with your unwieldy weapon of not-choice.  
What else was there to do? You’re scanning the area for ideas, seeing lots of rubble and injured pirates strewn about. One of which being Richie, who was currently licking his wounds. 
Hang on, you might know what to do now.
A hand digs around in your pants pocket and pulls out the laser pointer you put in there earlier. You don’t know what the range on this bad boy is, but hopefully it’s going to be strong enough for what you’ve got planned. 
Pointing it in the direction of the white lion, you click it on. Lucky for you, it reaches, and a red dot is just ahead of Richie. He doesn’t seem to have noticed it, so you wiggle it around. His head snaps up, and you rejoice on the inside.
He reaches a paw out to it, but you move it away. At first, he’s startled, but then he’s up on his feet and in pursuit. You keep moving it away from him, zipping it around to keep him interested. If you could get him a little closer, you should be able to help Zoro. You doubt that unicycle boy is going to be able to fight well if there’s a lion on top of him.
You risk a glance over to them, only to notice something else. Buggy is using his powers for a sneak attack! Shit! Change of plans, you need to throw him off instead!
Hastily, you move the dot onto his back and pray that Richie goes for it. The lion sees it and pauses, but then he crouches and creeps closer. Yes! Just a little bit more! Come on, Richie! His tail flicks wildly, and he then pounces.
Buggy hits the ground with an indignant shriek. He’s kicking and screaming, “Mohji! Get your damn lion under control!” 
You did it! You helped! Taking another look at Zoro, you see him land a finishing blow to the unicyclist. This is going much better than you would have thought! With that guy out of the way, everyone can focus on taking down Buggy.
Luffy was first to take this opportunity. Buggy had barely gotten back onto his feet after being pounced on by Richie, only to get punched by the rubber captain. The blow sent him tumbling head over heels away from him. Luffy wasn’t about to let up and continued the assault, but Buggy was able to get onto his feet and scramble out of the way of the next blow.
They engaged in a back and forth, each using their unique powers to try and get one over on the other. You tried to use your laser pointer again, but Mohji had Richie’s full attention while he was scolding him for attacking the captain. Well there goes that idea. At least you got it to work once.
You army crawl backwards so you can climb down from the roof, but stop when you notice something red flying right at you.
Oh shit, that’s Luffy!
There isn’t even enough time to brace for impact before the human wrecking ball crashes into the building and brings everything down on top of him, you included. You yelp and fall directly on top of him, disoriented but otherwise fine.
Luffy, entirely unbothered by the whole affair, helps you get up off of him, “Oh hey, Lucky! I was wondering when you were going to get here!” He stood and pulled you with him while readjusting his hat.
“Sorry, I just needed to pick up something first,” your hand drifted down to your new weapon, still getting used to even having one. The presence of one feels so foreign that you can’t imagine you ever carried one in the past.
He waved off your apology, “Don’t worry, it’s basically over already! I’ll finish this here and now!” Luffy bounced out of the crumbled building and got ready to do just that.
“Excuse you! Don’t underestimate me! And why are you talking to my crewmate?!” 
What? No. How could this guy still think you’re still on the same team? That’s not possible. He saw you run to Luffy’s aid with the key you stole from him. Maybe that cannonball did hit him after all and knocked his common sense right out.
“Huh? Lucky is your crewmate?” Luffy’s head tilted to the side, genuine confusion on his face.
Several of Buggy’s pirates piped up, “She obviously tricked you, Captain!”
“No one can trick me! Be nice to our newest member!” Buggy whirled around and actually started scolding them. Is he stupid? What is happening?
“I’m not in your crew! I lied to you so I could try and save him,” you clarified while pointing at Luffy, amazed that this even needed to be said. Luffy immediately accepted this explanation, nodding and winding up to take a swing at Buggy.
“Lucky, please! I know we got off on the wrong foot but-” Buggy’s pleas were interrupted by Luffy resuming the fight.
Carefully, you work on stepping out of the collapsed building, still a little baffled by that exchange. Whatever, no use in overthinking it. There are more important things at hand.
The sound of something heavy being dragged across the ground caught your attention, it was Nami toting a couple of massive bags behind her. She met your gaze and motioned you over, “Oh, good timing. Help me move these!” 
What? No please? Whatever, this is another thing not worth worrying about in the moment. You catch up with her quickly and take one of the bags. The second you do, you stumble. My god this thing is heavy! You do your best to pull it along, “What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”
“It’s all of that clown’s treasure!” Nami answers happily, eyes sparkling. 
“Why do you need all of this? What would you even do with it?” You’re huffing from the exertion of hauling your bag.
“That’s my business, thank you very much,” she said dismissively. Well then, you guess that’s the end of that conversation. 
“Hey! I see you! How dare you steal from me!” Buggy screeched. A hand holding several throwing knives was flying right at the both of you. Nami screamed, but refused to let go of “her” treasure. Your hand hovered over the urumi, but you hesitated. You really don’t think you possess the skill to slice his hand out of the air.
Fortunately, you don’t have to try, because Luffy’s own hand rockets towards Buggy’s and snatches it out of the air before he can make contact. Your shoulder slump in relief, good thing he’s so on top of this! 
Luffy’s victory doesn't last long, another hand comes up from behind and steals his straw hat. You would think that he would just be happy that he wasn’t stabbed, but no. He looks enraged. You haven’t known him long, but the anger on his face feels wrong.
“Give that back! That’s my treasure!” His voice was so authoritative that you didn’t even question how something as simple as a hat could be considered treasure. Whatever reason he has, it must be a good one if he’s that mad about it.
Buggy begins on some tirade about the previous owner of the hat. Some dude named Shanks? Weird name. Well, to be fair, a lot of the people you’ve met have had strange names. 
You don’t get to listen in on this long, Nami taps you on the shoulder and indicates for you to follow her. You barely take a step before she tacks on, “Bring the treasure!”
After the oh so precious treasure is dragged into the nearest alley, she starts rifling through some boxes. Since she doesn’t appear to be planning on explaining herself, you pipe up, “So… Are we looking for something in particular?”
Nami doesn’t look up from her search, “We need something to stop that guy from coming after us or else I’ll never be able to leave with my treasure.” The explanation was simple and to the point. You pitch in and start looking, too. A net would probably work, but what were the odds of some nets just so happening to be here?
“This’ll work!” Nami springs up and tosses a bundle your way. You catch it, and it’s a coiled up length of rope. You nod, this is a nice alternative to your net idea. She strolls to the entrance of the alley and pokes her head out, “Next time this circus freak splits apart, you and me will tie up the pieces. Got it?”
“Got it,” you conceded. Sounds doable, especially if Luffy is keeping him busy. Sure enough, Buggy splits into a bunch of parts in hopes of confusing his opponent, but you’re not about to let him succeed.
You and Nami spring into action, grabbing airborne limbs and wrapping the ropes around them as tightly as you can. They’re wriggling wildly, and it is admittedly disturbing to be holding disembodied arms and legs, but you don’t give up. Unfortunately, both hands and feet evade you as well as Nami. You can only hope that the two of you were able to apprehend enough parts to make a difference.
Buggy attempts to put himself back together again, and the writhing piles of limbs try to fly back to him, but Nami acts swiftly and throws both into a box and seals it shut. The box rattles, but the body parts are unable to escape. The both of you smile triumphantly.
“What happened?! Where’s the rest of me?!” 
You look over to him, and immediately snort out a laugh. Which then escalates into hysteric laughing. Nami looks at you questioningly, before seeing it too and joining in with her own laughter.
Buggy the clown, the fearsome pirate that’s been talking mad shit since you met, was now nothing but a head with hands and feet. Absolutely nothing else.
Even Luffy was laughing, a pleasant sight after his previous expression. Buggy was still trying to act tough despite the situation, but Luffy was having none of that. He took a couple of steps back, then ran at the incomplete clown and kicked him. He didn’t just go sailing down the street, no, he went clear into the sky and vanished.
“Team Rocket blasting off again,” you mumbled. Then your face scrunched up. Where did that come from?
“Did you say something, Lucky?” Nami asked.
“N-No, that was nothing. I’m just glad that’s over with.”
“You and me both, I hate having to deal with pirates,” she agreed.
The sound of flip flops slapping against the ground was your only warning before being pulled into a group hug. You and Nami were squished against each other and unable to move when Luffy’s arms coiled around you both. He cheered and hopped up and down enthusiastically, “We did it, good thinking guys! We already make such a great crew!”
“I am not part of your crew,” Nami wheezed.
Luffy stopped, loosening his grip a little but not enough for either of you to escape, “Huh? But you said you’d be my navigator.”
“All that I agreed to was a temporary alliance, that’s it,” she clarified while trying desperately to get out of his clutches.
“Are you still gonna sail with us out of here?”
“Sure?”
“Okay, that’s good!” Luffy was content with the answer, however unpromising it may be.
“Where’s Zoro? I haven’t seen him in a while,” you were craning your neck around to try and spot him. Now that you thought about it, you haven’t seen him since his fight with the unicyclist. Was he okay? Did he succumb to his wounds after the fight?
Mercifully, Luffy let go and pointed to where he was, “He’s over there, he said he needed to sleep some more after fighting.”
“What, right in the street?” You asked, thinking for sure that you’re misunderstanding. Obnoxious snores cut through the now silent air, and you realize that you understood perfectly. There he is. Out cold in the middle of the street like it’s the comfiest mattress he’s ever experienced. You know what? You’re not even surprised now that you’re looking at him. This checks out for him.
“Hey, guys, I think we should leave,” Nami threw out, handing the treasure bag you had been hauling to Luffy.
“Why?”
“There’s a mob and they look mad.”
A mob?! Sure enough, rounding the corner of the almost leveled street you were on was a massive angry mob of people. They’ve got torches and pitchforks and everything. They aren’t dressed like the pirates, you think these are the missing townspeople! That’s fine then, you guys just defeated the clown that had been terrorizing them. By all accounts, they should be happy with you. Right?
“Mayor Boodle! What happened to you?!” One of them cried out and ran to him. Oh wow, you hadn’t even noticed him being there. The mayor was currently sprawled out on the street. Unlike Zoro, he did not appear to be sleeping peacefully. If the knot on his head was anything to go off of, it looks like someone knocked him the hell out.
Damage control, you need to do some damage control! And quick!
“Oh him? I punched him,” Luffy interjected, looking rather proud of himself.
“You what?!” You and the townsfolk yelled all at once. Good lord, does Luffy just enjoy concussing people?! Should you be more suspicious about what happened to you?
“Hey! That girl stole my clothes! And paired it with a hideous coat!” An absolutely furious woman in the crowd pointed at you. Oh come on! How many people are going to call you out for wearing their clothes today?!
Luffy laughed, amused and unbothered, “Let’s go!” He reached for and yanked Zoro to his side and motioned for you to support his other side, and the second you picked him up you were running.
“Don’t let them escape!”
The mob surged after you all and were hot on your heels. You’re not sure that you’ll be able to lose them at this rate. 
Luffy took a hard right, leading all four of you down an alley. In the middle of it was a dog. Wait, not just any dog, that’s Chouchou! The dog he helped. You leapt over him, and the second the crowd approached, he switched from quiet guarding to aggressive barking.
Despite their numbers, this did make the people hesitate, buying you enough time to get ahead. Luffy called out a ‘thank you’ to the dog over his shoulder, much to the bewilderment of the crowd. 
The docks were just ahead, you were almost home free!
Nami leapt into her own boat, not wasting a second, and began to set sail. Luffy all but threw you and Zoro into yours. Both of you landed with a thud and Zoro groaned, opening his eyes groggily. He looks around lazily, “Where are we?”
“Back on our boat, we got chased out by an angry mob,” you explained, gently shifting him off of you.
“Why?”
“Because Luffy attacked the mayor,” you shot the assailant in question a dry look, not that he was paying attention.
“He did that to save him, why are they mad about it?” Zoro yawned and tried to make himself more comfortable. You didn’t even know how to respond to that. How do you save someone by punching them?
“Hey, you ruffians!”
Everyone looked to shore and saw the mayor standing there. Well he sure made a quick recovery since you last saw him two minutes ago! You waited anxiously to hear what would be said next. Would he curse you all? He probably doesn’t even know how the final battle went.
“Thank you!”
He’s… thanking you guys? 
Luffy laughed boisterously and waved, “You’re welcome, old man!”
“Wait! Luffy, where is the bag you were carrying?” Nami interrupted the moment, looking around frantically. “Did you forget it?!”
“No, I left it behind for them. They need it more than I do!” Luffy smiled innocently and pointed to where it was left on the docks. The locals were already investigating the bag to see what it was.
Luffy, a pirate, abandoned treasure because he thought the people who chased him out of town needed it more? What kind of a pirate would do something like that? What kind of a person would do something like that? The answer was obvious, you suppose.
A good one.
You looked over at him again, only to see Nami actively trying to drown him. 
“Nami, no!”
It took some time to ease the tensions between Nami and Luffy after the whole treasure incident. Time, and Zoro keeping them separated. Fortunately, Nami did eventually relent and agreed through clenched teeth that maybe the townsfolk did need the money.
Luffy had no problems to reconcile on his side, he had somehow already forgiven the attempted murder by the time Zoro pulled him above water.
Nami had set course for some nearby islands with the goal of acquiring a better ship as per Luffy’s request, and after that it didn’t take long for night to come. Nami offered to stay awake to make sure you didn’t go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, which was nice of her.
Getting some sleep sounded nice. At least, it sounded nice in theory. The small boat that you, Luffy, and Zoro were all crammed into didn’t offer much room for stretching out or having personal space. That, and Luffy had chosen to sleep by sprawling across you and Zoro in lieu of a bed. He wasn’t particularly heavy, but he wouldn’t stop moving.
You doubt you had slept for more than a couple of hours before being awoken by Luffy biting your arm, murmuring about meat in his sleep. You awoke with a start and roughly shoved him off of you on instinct. He barely even reacted and simply latched onto Zoro in your absence. Better him than you.
Sleep was unlikely to come to you again tonight. You carefully scoot yourself away from the two, with plans of stargazing until morning. The action didn’t rouse either of them, but it got someone else’s attention.
“Who’s awake?” Nami called out.
“I am, Luffy bit me,” you answered back.
She snickered, humored by your suffering. “Come over here and keep me company,” she yawned, “I’m getting tired.”
Chatting with Nami doesn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time, so you agree and shakily get to your feet. The two boats are tied together to keep them from drifting apart, so the distance isn’t far, but the instability of being at sea made it feel much more challenging than it should be.
Rather than help you by keeping the boat steady or even just offering a hand, Nami merely watched you struggle and didn’t even attempt to hide how funny she found this. Luckily, you were able to get over onto her boat without going overboard. 
“You’ve got some great sea legs under you, huh?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. 
You stumbled over to where she was seated and plopped down next to her, “I hope you know that I’m staying over here now, I’m not doing that again.”
That got a chuckle out of her, “That’s fine, I told you to come keep me company anyways.” The conversation lulled and you glanced over at her. She was focused on mending Luffy’s hat, carefully stitching the holes that had been put in it during his fight with Buggy. You hadn’t even known it had gotten damaged until you saw him fiddling with it after the little disagreement with Nami. It was surprising to see her offer to repair it considering how mad she had been only minutes prior, but Luffy agreed to let her anyway. 
“So, I’ve gotta ask: How did you end up with those two?” Nami broke the silence, “You don’t really seem like the type to be a pirate.”
“That’s… It’s a funny story, I guess? A short one, too,” you started. “According to Luffy and Zoro, I fell out of the sky, almost drowned, and when Luffy was pulling me over to their boat I hit my head,” you pointed to the bandages on your head for emphasis. Nami had stopped working on the hat and was instead gawking at you.
“I woke up a little while later, and couldn’t remember a damn thing. Not how I got there, what happened, or even who I was. Luffy got the idea into his head to try and help me remember everything, so now I’m traveling with them for the time being,” you finished the explanation. The whole situation was insane, but it felt good to talk about it a little bit.
“What? When did this happen, how long have you even been with them?”
“Since yesterday. I had only woken up a couple of hours before we got to that island back there,” saying that made you realize how much had happened in such a short period of time. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.
Nami was visibly horrified by your story. She spared a glance to the other boat, then lowered her voice and spoke to you in a hushed but urgent tone, “How do you know they’re telling the truth?! For all you know, they took you hostage and are hoping to ransom you!”
This was a good point, you had considered the possibility of foul play already, but you couldn’t fully commit to the idea of it. They didn’t seem like bad people to you. Unhinged, yes, but not evil by any means. You mulled over your next words for a minute, “I’ve thought about that, but I think they’re being honest. I mean really, I don’t think Luffy can even lie.” You laughed a little upon remembering the chaos he caused by telling the townspeople about what happened with Mayor Boodle, “Besides, if they were so concerned with getting money from a ransom, why would Luffy have left behind a giant bag of gold? That seems pretty counterintuitive to me.”
Nami still looked unsure, but not as freaked out as she had been. She shot another look at the other boat, a highly suspicious one, but ultimately sighed and went back to working on the hat. “I don’t like that story at all, but I’ll let it go for now,” she muttered.
You fell into another bout of silence. There wasn’t exactly a whole lot to do out here, so you settled for watching her put the finishing touches on the hat. After the last stitch, she pulled the string taut and tied the knot. She cut it and held the straw hat up to her lantern to admire her handiwork. It looked great, she had done an excellent job repairing it. 
“I’m guessing Lucky isn’t your real name then?” Once again, she had been the one to speak first.
“It’s not. Since I couldn’t remember it, Luffy came up with the nickname. He decided that I was “lucky” because he rescued me, so that’s how he chose the name.”
Nami scoffed, “I don’t know that I would call you “lucky” for that, but whatever.” She put the hat aside, and glanced at you briefly before choosing to look up at the stars instead. Her fingers drum against the wood of the ship anxiously for a moment, “Um… If you need to get away from them just let me know. I can drop you off at another island. Those idiots can’t navigate so they definitely won’t be able to find you.”
“Thank you, but that’s okay. I think I’ll stick with them for a while yet,” you answered honestly. They were some strange people, but you couldn’t deny that you found yourself liking them already.
“Suit yourself,” she said. Her disdain for the situation was palpable, but she seemed willing to drop it for now.
The only sounds now were the waves splashing against the boats and the wood creaking with each hit. It felt so quiet, unusually so, as if you weren’t used to it. The place you were before all this must have been very noisy if this makes you feel uneasy. 
But, this was a good opportunity to think over what happened today. Well, yesterday. Falling out of the sky was weird enough, having basically nothing from before this happened was weirder, but the weirdest thing of all was the note and weapon that seemingly manifested out of nowhere.
What was that? Who left it, and how did they know about your amnesia? If they knew you, why wouldn’t they come and collect you? What is there to gain from throwing a weapon at you and leaving you be?
You have so many questions and zero answers, but there is one question that stands out against all the others.
Who is “A”?
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ghouljams · 2 months
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Throwing up at the thought of Love having a copy of Ghosts one book- hunted it down and got a physical copy from a friend of a friend or something, and annotates it, some with those tiny sticky notes and some straight up writing in the book itself and ghost stumbling upon it somehow (do NOT check the discord it will NOT show a few students that went on ‘a breaking in Loves office to steal book to dropping it in front of ghosts door and taking off running’ escapade)
No but you're so right. There's no way Love hasn't tracked down one of the few print copies being passed around, or paid to have the PDF printed and bound. Honestly I don't know which shows more care, the dedication to finding an actual copy and paying($$$$) for it, or getting a copy printed and bound custom.
Either way, it's a well worn book. Highlighted in different places, notes scribbled in the margins, post its and little page markers everywhere. Postcards from the trips she's taken it on act like bookmarks for her favorite sections, and she writes little notes to Ghost on the back of them, trying to sort through her thoughts and what she thinks his might have been. It's hard not to connect the philosophy with the man that wrote it, it's so deeply personal even as impersonal as Ghost's writing style is. Really the only thing that seems to hold any emotion to it(despite the depth and honesty in each chapter) is the forward and Love reads it over and over again.
The spine is cracked, there's a coffee stain on one of the corners that curls the pages, and it feels silly that she wants Ghost to sign it, but she desperately wants him to sign it. She just wants to sit down and talk about life with him, talk about his life, talk about everything that happened that made him settle on philosophy. It's quite literally one of her prized possessions. It helps her with some of the lingering grief in her own life, and she can only hope that writing it helped Ghost with his. Of course she'd attend his talk on it, of course she'd take notes and debate whether to raise her hand with questions. It's the best opportunity she's gotten to actually talk to him about it. Or rather to hear him talk about it.
It has a quiet place of honor on her bookshelf, carried back and forth between home and her office, and slid neatly into place. It is only one of the philosophy students taking her class that spots the spine and recognizes it immediately. Ghost doesn't bother looking at what Love's reading, avoids her office for the most part, and it isn't like she's displaying the thing so of course he wouldn't know... Except if someone in the discord took it upon themselves to ask him where Love got a copy during his office hours.
"There's a PDF online," Ghost grumbles, checking over their paper.
"No like a real copy, like printed with your name on the spine."
That makes Ghost stop and glare at them. The subject is dropped. But maybe he swings by Love's office to check, just to make sure she doesn't have a copy, and spots it while he's investigating one of the artifacts she has displayed along her shelves. He asks her a question about one of them just to get her talking while he silently slips the book free and thumbs through it. Taking in all the marks and scribbles, the annotations and underlines, the post cards and the post-its.
He tugs a pen from his pocket and signs the inside cover while she's going on about Sumerian burial practices. Pushes the book back into place. Leaves without saying a word to her about it. Doesn't even let her finish her excited lecture, just closes the door and stalks back to his office with the knowledge that she hasn't just read his book, she's studied it. He doesn't know why or for how long, but he does know that he's starting to feel a twinge of guilt for snapping at her.
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igotanidea · 1 year
Text
More than blood: batboys x bat!sister
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Dick was not the first one who was adopted by Bruce.
Y/N was.
And if you talk about the eldest daughter complex she was the perfect example of it.
Y/N was so much like her adoptive father. Quiet, observant, seemingly emotionally cold yet charming and enticing when circumstances called for it. Smart like hell. She knew exactly how to take care of herself, and yet, Bruce being himself was always hesitant to let her out into the streets of Gotham at night. But she fought for it. Hard. She had no natural talent for fight, but she was fast, flexible and imperceptible in the shadows. Slowly, but steadfastly she gathered enough strength and skills to become the very first Batman’s sidekick. She was not a fan of a traditional way of training. Boxing, weight lifting and throwing punches wasn’t exactly her style, but she was extremely good with skates and rollerblades and all the moves that involved a bit of dance-like moves. So that was how Bruce trained her. Three-turns, brackets and rockers just came naturally to her, both on ice on the ground and she was soon the best of the best. When she was ready to come on patrol,  Bruce created the most cliche name for her.
Batgirl.
Which she instantly refused, instead choosing to go by the name of Cover. After all, that was what she was doing. Covering.
At first, it was only Bruce and Alfred she was taking care of.  Never pushing anything but always finding a way to make sure they did the right thing. Listening carefully to their every word, getting her head around any possible situation and just being there when they needed her. She was not a people pleaser and definitely wasn’t going out of her own way for them (and that was the hot spot between her and Bruce), but in times of need and crisis she was the best possible support. Unwavering. Strong. Persistent.
And then, Dick came in. Of course, having younger brother (even if there was barely half a year age gap) put a lot more pressure on her shoulder. So she did her best to connect with him. It was hard, no denying. Dick has just lost his parents and he was harsh and murky and  a bit unpredictable. But she did not give up making sure he will finally warm up to her. And maybe Bruce.
“What are you doing?” one day, after particularly rough training with Bruce he came across her while she was working out
“Oh, you know. I was never good with all those flips” she lowly lifted herself from the floor, rubbing sweat from her forehead, her hair being a total mess. “Bruce insisted I learned some, but I was always better with my speed, skate figures and fast-thinking than actual acrobatics. However” she raised an eyebrow at the boy “I heard you are the master in the field. Care to show me a few tricks? Unless you prefer to sulk in the corner….” She smirked
And so they connected. Creating a lot of inside jokes during the year, being the support for each other. Of course, as older sister Y/N had no problem in literally smacking his head when he did something stupid and as younger brother he had no inhibitions in scaring her potential boyfriends away, but yes, they were close.
And then, Jason came in. The rowdy kid from the Crime Alley and she had to figure out another way to reach him. It didn’t take a lot of time to notice he was interested in literature, so she started leaving books around in the manor. Mostly classics, like Jane Austen and Shakespeare, but from time to time she risked more modern writers. He always took them from the place they were and returned a couple days later. He was a fast reader. One night, when he returned from patrol, all fuming and on the verge of breaking, he noticed a light coming out of her room and due to some crazy feelings took a few steps towards there.
“Hello, Jason” he might have been quiet, but she was the first trained by Bruce, so the poor boy has no chance not to be noticed.  She turned in her chair and smiled lightly “It’s good to see you.  So it happens I got tickets for a midsummer night’s dream. Two tickets. Would you maybe ….”
“Yes. Yes, please, take me with you.” his eyes was glistening with so much hope she would choose him, it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. Pushing aside the urge to hug Jason (it was too early for that and he would not appreciate) she just nodded. And there was the connection.
And then, there was Tim. The Brainiac. Coffee addict. Sleep deprived. Constantly working, cracking cases. And being quite successful at it, even if sometimes he took the long road instead of connecting the dots to create the shortcuts.
“How’s the case going?” she asked at breakfast one time, noticing Tim’s tired eyes and disheveled hair. He wasn’t sleeping well that night, but what’s new.
“It’s not.” he groaned pecking at his food not really eating any of it “and stop making fun out of me because of it!”
“Fun?” she almost choked on her toast “Really, Tim? I’m not happy at all that you are missing the most obvious piece of the puzzle.”
“The most ob….? You were compromising my work?!”
“I was …. Checking your work” now, she had to be extremely careful with words “And what I found out is that you definitely have a criminal mind. But” she raised a hand stopping him before he could say a thing “you are also awfully messy, Tim. You splattered some coffee on the sheets and blurred the numbers. And that is why you couldn’t reach the conclusion.”
“I…. What!?”
“Hate to break it to you, champ.” She shrugged taking a sip of her own coffee “but apart from that, you did a really good job with the task.”
And with a couple more cases like this they got into real sibling relationship.
Damian was the hardest one. Trained by the assassin, treated like a threat and a menace, far more tough than Jason, cruel and with no moral compass. Not by his fault. He was the one who needed some soft care most of them all, but would never accept. So there were two options, get to him with fighting skills or by using his art adoration. She couldn’t just leave art supplies for him like she did with Jason and books, but she got one more idea, which required a bit of Alfred’s help.
‘Rough night miss y/n?” the butler asked when the girl emerged from the batcave, covered in bandages and patches.
“You have no idea, Alfred” she yawned “At first B had me running around the streets creating some sort of diversion for him, since none of the Robins where available “ a quick glance towards her three brothers “and when I got back I got lost into my latest painting…..” she trailed waiting for Damian’s reaction. Seemingly nothing has changed, but she looked carefully enough to notice his eyebrows lifting slightly and his body shift towards her to hear better. Gotcha!
“The castle?” Alfred asked, curiosity in his voice
“Yes. I’m almost finished  and I think I will need some help in hanging it in the living room soon. Will you be so kind with it Alfred?”
“Of course, miss Y/N.”
A couple days later, the painting did hang on the wall and some Sunday afternoon she found Damian standing in front of it and looking it up and down.
“I could have used a bit more blue on the edges.” She said stopping by his right side.
“Not just blue.” He retorted
“Nighttime blue?” she asked
“Nighttime blue” he said at the same time and their gazes met.  She tilted her head slightly while Damian’s face showed a bit of surprise. He was so young and so wrongly treated it was almost unfair.
“I know, but it’s too close to the color of Dick’s suit. He would never let me live it through.” She let out a laugh and Damian smirked.
“I got an idea of how we can improve your next painting if you ever were to create another.”
“Oh, you think you are better than me in the art field?” she gasped grabbing her heart in fake hurt
“I know I am.”
“Wanna bet?”
And so he warmed up to her as well. It seemed like all of the batboys were prone to her silent charm. But obviously there were times when she had bad days. Being the one with the longest training, seeing most of the violent things and crimes and living thought her own tragic events sometimes, in the times of greatest stress she was just becoming completely silent. Not able to say a word, getting through the days like a ghost, wanting to disappear, getting lost inside her own head. Usually, it lasted up to four or five days, and it was normal. Just a sign for Bruce to put her off the patrol so she can get through whatever was going on inside her head. He wasn’t the one to actually talk a lot about feelings and emotions, but even Batman had to be alerted after two weeks of radio silence on her part.
From the little intel he had on her since she left the manor he learned that for the last days she wasn’t eating properly, struggling with her work, looking tired and worn out even though she was sleeping a lot. Something was off and the only people who could actually be of help would be her brothers.  Dick was in Bludhaven, Jason was running around the Crime Alley, Tim was busy with work for Wayne Enterprises and Damian, well…there was no way of figuring out what he was up to. Bruce groaned not really sure how to call the boys for rescue but it was about Y/N so he just used the unofficial channel and simply called all of them. He did not expect that they would gang up and show at the manor at the exact same time. Those stone walls haven’t; heard that much of a banter and silly fights for a while and despite everything, deep, deep inside Bruce was glad they came.
“Let’s be clear. I’m here only because of Y/n.” Jason stated bluntly “nothing more”
“thank god, I thought Red Hood was getting soft” Dick punched his arm playfully and was surprised with how hard his little brother’s muscle were.
“If you want me to show you…..”
“Where exactly is Y/N?” Tim interrupted his brothers fight, focusing on the most important matter
“And where are her paintings?” Damian frowned looking around.
“She moved out some time ago and took her works with her.” Bruce hissed. It was somewhat …. painful to admit that she left.
“Where?” Jason hissed
None of them cared that it was the middle of the day and their sister was probably at work. They had their own methods of getting inside the building unnoticed and years of training came extremely useful in that case.
Poor Y/N. Work was hard, as usual during the last couple days, she was tired and sad and dealing with a lot of thoughts. Even her usual way of blowing steam off while skating or rollerblading wasn’t helping.  She might have left her vigilante persona behind, but old habits die hard and when she climbed up the step to her apartment she could not fail to notice shadows on the floor and almost inaudible voices coming from the inside. Her instincts immediately kicked in when she put the bag down, bracing herself and busted through the door. Her first, perfectly aimed punch met with Tim’s stomach and the half-turn kick got Damian falling onto the ground. It took both Dick and Jason to stop her from making any more damage.
“Calm down Y/N! It’s just us” Jason calmed her down smirking, surprised with her skills that wasn’t gone.
“Will you behave?” Dick added making sure she wasn’t going to attack them again and only then letting her go
“What the hell?!” she hissed getting free of her brother’s grip “what are you four doing here?!”
“since when do you know how to punch?” Tim groaned “I thought that wasn’t your style?”
“I expanded my skill set. Out of everyone here you should be the one to appreciate it, Tim.”
“I would esteem it better if it wasn’t aimed at me.”
“Right. Sorry. But the question remains. What the hell are you doing here?! You know, I;m used to one Robin, or former Robin, come around from time to time, but this?”
“Father called upon us. He was worried something was off with you.” Damian spat getting off the floor, embarrassment visible on his face.
“Bruce was worried?” she laughed ironically “Right. Sure. He was the reason I left the manor. Should have taken example from you Dick and run the hell away ten years ago.”
“It was five….” Dick tried to chime in but she did not let him
“And now he’s so worried he won’t even visit me by himself. Instead he just send a rescue party?” she turned around and  slumped on the couch
“Y/N…..” Jason tried to reason with her “come on, tell your favorite brother what happened”
“For once I agree with Todd. Tell your favorite brother what is wrong. I mean, me, of course in case someone does not get the clue” Damian hissed taking a spot next to Y/N before anyone else could do it.
“Cut it guys, everyone knows I’m her favorite. I know her the longest of us all and I know everything about her.” Dick objected, crossing his arms with a wide smile, being so sure no one could threaten his position
“Everything?” Tim scoffed “You have no idea about half of the things she likes. I learned them. By myself.”
“Yeah, by spying on her. You call that a good relationship?”
“I do not spy!”
“Cut it, replacement. We all know the most bonding thing are inside jokes. And we have plenty since we read the same books. You wouldn’t even get half of our quotes!”
“Let me get my gear and I’ll show you how half of a quote look like. Art is what connects people and you all are just nonentity in that area. Not like me. Besides, I was training with her the most, so…..” Damian interrupted and at this moment all four boys were just shouting at each other while their sister was sitting on the sofa watching the scene in front of her eyes without any word.
“Get out.” She finally said. Quietly, but they heard her and stopped immediately “All of you. Get out. Now. “
“Y/n….” Dick was first to notice his sister’s pale skin and shaking hands “Please….”
“No.” she shook her head “I;ve had enough. This is exactly why I was always making sure you won’t show up at my place at once. You just can’t seem to fight who’s better or stronger or smarter or more skilled. It’s been like that all our time together. You just try so hard to outdo one another. “
“Well, I mean, she’s not wrong” Jason smirked running a hand through his hair and was instantly met with four pairs of reproachfully eyes “sorry….”
“Is that what bothers you?” Tim asked silently bending down to look into her eyes.
“What? No. Hell no. Why do you think something bothers me?” she stood up abruptly heading to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Shit, Tim was always the one to crack her faster than others.
“You have cuts on your forearms.” Red Robin pointed and she tried to cover them quickly
“And a bruise on the neck.” Damian added following her
“Those kind of traces that does not come from skating.” Jason poked at her skates thrown on the floor in the corridor
“And that means you….I mean, Cover, has been active again.” Dick finalized. “Why?”
“Oh, come in….” she was getting more and more nervous with every minute “is this an interrogation now?”
“No. This are four brothers concerned about their sister well-being.  Does that sound better.”
“Vaguely.”
“Why did you put on the suit again?”
“Because I wasn’t feeling enough!” she spat and immediately covered her mouth to stop the sob coming next
“What?!” Jason hissed and grabbed her hand which made her flinch “oh, so you hurt your hands as well.  Not so much about expanding your skills in punching, hm?”
“Shut up.” She hissed back at him, sticking her tongue out
“That’s a very mature behavior for the oldest one” Damian pointed “but Grayson’s question is still on. Why did you pick up the mantle again? You said you were done?”
“I was. Until one night I heard the weeps and screams of my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.”
“Y/N….”
“And the other time, when I heard on the news how Nightwing got beaten while protecting people who were trapped in the fire….”
“I did not…..”
“Oh, and that one time when some little bird brought the news about Red Hood getting in trouble in the Crime Alley and almost dying? Again.”
“ok, it wasn’t even half as bad…..” Jason tried to defend himself
“And then, Red Robin and Robin. Running loose without batman. Dealing with criminals on their own accords and getting involved in the shooting?”
“It was Drake’s fault!” Damian cried out and Tim just punched him lightly
“Stop it.” Red Robin hissed at his younger brother “let her make a point, because it’s not it.”
“Then what is?”
“Come on, sis, tell us” Jason crouched next to her and squeezed her hands lightly
“I…. I can’t”
“Of course you can. There’s no shame in anything. Safe space. And as your big brother, I have duty to make sure you are all right.”
“You are younger than me, Dick.”
“Barely younger. And still, the oldest brother. “
“Come on, Y/N. Just spit it out.”
“Fine. Fine. Just quit looking at me like that. It’s creepy. I… I might have gotten into a bad relationship…..
“WHAT?!”
“Calm down, Damian. It wasn’t that serious. I kicked his butt first time he came at me….”
“WHAT?! I’m gonna find him. I’m gonna find him and…..” Dick caught his younger brother before he could get out and really find and eliminate the guy.
“It’s in the past. But you know, all that got me thinking. About who I was in the past. The cover. And how you guys were always out there, putting your lives at risk while I was just sitting at home, watching and doing nothing…..”
“so you thought it would be good idea to just go out on patrol by yourself.” Tim threw his arms in the air in frustration “Y/N, you know better than that.”
“Come on, what was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know. Call me….” Jason said, but corrected himself due to Damian poking him in the ribs “I mean…. Us.”
“How could I?” she rolled her eyes.  “You guys have enough on your plates without me.”
“This is unbelievable” Tim scoffed
“You never patrol alone and we would never let you do it” Damian added
“What do you mean without you?” Dick narrowed his eyes at their sister “do you think you are some sort of burden?”
“Well…. I…. um…..”
“Are you insane?” Jason was the first one to burst. “Are you insane?”
“You do realize we are family, right?”
“This is a pretty crazy family.”
“Sure, but at the end of the day we watch each other’s back and that’s why we are all….alive.”
“Ekhem….”
“Sorry, Jayson, but we are alive. Some of us get to be alive more than once, but still.”
“I hate you, Dickhead”
“Look Y/N, no matter what you need to know you are important. You were the one to always take care of all of us, so, just for once, let us do the same.”
“But isn’t that what the eldest sibling of the family is supposed to do?”
“Since when do you care about supposed to do?”
“Never did. But I care about you guys and…..”
“Let us help Y/N. You are not alone. “
“I know. “
“So why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying!”
“You are!”
“Stop it! It’s just …. Nice, to know someone cares about you, all right? That is… new.”
“Come here, you silly one.” Dick crushed her in a bear hug to the point where it was nearly impossible to breathe “you’re not doing it again alone, you hear me?”
“So, what are you suggesting?”
“I’m thinking.….. just for the sake of all times…. A little night patrol with all your crazy brothers?”
“Dunno. Is Red Hood ready to work with the bats?” she smirked at Jason.
“Just this once. And we stay out of the Crime Alley.” He shook his head in disapproval but his words were contradiction to his action.
“How about our little Robins?”
“I’m not little!” Damian yelled
“Neither am I, but still I’m down. It’s been a while and I’m wondering if you really did enhanced your fighting skills.” Tim smiled
“So, it’s settled. Everyone meet me here at the dawn?”
“You sure you can handle four vigilantes in your tiny apartment?”
“I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I can always ground you. Big sister privilege.”
She smiled at her brothers and despite their protests she was now feeling so much better. Just knowing that she had someone (more than one) to rely on made her feel valued and cared for. This family was more than blood and they were protectors of each other as much as of Gotham.
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justauthoring · 1 year
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BLUE LOCK - is he a good boyfriend?
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the answer is yes, obviously.
includes: bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, mikage reo all fem!reader
warnings: just bllk boys being the absolute best boys.
boyfriend!bachira who constantly makes you laugh - he’s always making funny faces at you, or telling you some stupid joke he read on twitter. no matter how dumb they are, it always manages to make you smile and that cute little giggle of yours to slip out and thus, bachira continues to do it.
boyfriend!bachira whose incredibly clingy. he always wants to be holding your hand, or is draped off of you. he likes having you close and he likes the warmth of you next to him. it makes him feel calm knowing you're there - feeling you're there - and that you're not going anywhere either. (it's also a plus that it usually wards off any potential flirts).
boyfriend!bachira who gets a little insecure sometimes. it throws you off the first time it ever happens. bachira's always confident, a beaming presence no matter where he is and seeing him quiet and shy is something that you definitely didn't expect. when you learn why, it feels like your heart'll break. almost instantly you're at his side reassuring him of every one of his silly words.
boyfriend!bachira who constantly making little gifts for you out of whatever scrap of something he can find. most of the time, his gifts look a little wonky, a little child-like, but it came from him all the same and you know he poured his heart into it so you don't really care if it's not the prettiest looking gift.
boyfriend!bachira whose so excited the first time you meet his mom. he'd known from the first moment he'd met you you were the one, but he'd waited as long as he possibly could before asking you to make that step. you were more than willing, if not a little nervous. you knew how close bachira and his mom were and you wanted to impress her so bad you practically made yourself sick the day of. (spoiler alert, she loved you.)
boyfriend!bachira who can literally never shut about you. it doesn't matter whether you're there or not - though it's usually worse when you're not because he misses you. he's constantly talking about you; "oh, yeah, y/n loves that show" or "y/n looked so pretty this morning when she woke up". honestly, his friends want to kill him but he's so happy they usually just let him.
-
boyfriend!nagi who basically asks you out through reo. it was a mixture of both being too lazy and too shy (really though, he was just too shy) and it takes a lot of work from reo for the two of you to finally go on a date but it works out perfectly because the second he drops you off that night, you already want to go on another.
boyfriend!nagi who likes when you sit with him while he games. you don't always have to be talking, though he'll gladly let you chat his ear off, mostly listening but sometimes zoning out as you happily chat away about your day. sometimes it's just quiet, both in your own worlds but comforted by each others company. and sometimes you'll even play with him if nagi begs enough.
boyfriend!nagi whose the best damn cuddler. he's a huge man child that practically sinks into any couch or bed he can find, too lazy to even stand half the time. but he never hesitates to pull you into his lap, letting your head rest on his chest while the both of you bask in each others warmth. you fall asleep most nights like that, his arm securely wrapped around your waist while you lazily run your fingers through his hair.
boyfriend!nagi who prefers to stay home, order in and watch movies all night then go out to some fancy dinner. but he makes it the best date nonetheless, never failing to make you feel utterly beautiful and loved. some stupid movie playing in the background that's dumb enough to make the both of you cackle, while you eat greasy junk food, bundled up in pillows and blankets -- and you wouldn't have it any other way.
boyfriend!nagi whose constantly lending you his hoodies and shirts simply because he likes seeing you wear them. he's not an easily jealous man by nature, but there's something about the sight of seeing you in his clothing, telling everyone who you're with without him having to do a damn thing that just makes him so happy.
boyfriend!nagi who becomes ten times more motivated when he knows you're in the stands watching him. he can hear you screaming his name even from the field, voice probably going raw but you never falter, and it flutters his heart in a way he's never felt. he scores double as much as he usually does when you're there.
-
boyfriend!isagi whose incredibly shy and awkward when you first start dating. he's not very good with people, girls even more so, and he's constantly blown away by how pretty you are that the first few weeks of your relationship is spent with his cheeks constantly flushed and his words stammering. he looks incredibly cute though, so you don't mind all that much.
boyfriend!isagi whose insanely chivalrous. he'll make sure he's always opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you to sit in, he tucks you on the other side of him when walking down the street. it's small, subtle things that hardly anyone would notice, but it makes your heart aflutter all the same.
boyfriend!isagi who loves soccer more than anything but always makes sure to make time for you. he's got a busy schedule and it requires him to be away from home a lot, but he's always willing to facetime, even after a long day of practice when his body screams at him for sleep. and when he is home, his free time is always, without a doubt, devoted to you.
boyfriend!isagi who can barely form coherent sentences when he sees you in his jersey for the first time. he feels as if he could combust on the spot at the sight of you in the stands, proudly supporting him with his name and number on your back. it lets everyone know who you're there for and isagi feels immense pride at the thought.
boyfriend!isagi who buys you a necklace a year into dating you. a small little 'Y' pendant with the date you guys met engraved on the back. its such a small gift, but incredibly thoughtful and you refuse to take it off the second you receive it. every time isagi catches a glance at the silver, he blushes.
boyfriend!isagi who is an amazing kisser once he gets past his nerves - his lips are just so soft and plump and he knows exactly where to kiss that it never fails to send a shiver down the back of your spine. whether it's on the lips or on the curve of your jaw, the feeling is something you'll never be able to get over.
-
boyfriend!reo who spoils you any opportunity he possibly can. he has more money then he knows what to do with, so he simply spends it all on you. anything you want, he'll get it for you simply because he thinks you deserve it and he wants to spoil you.
boyfriend!reo who never flaunts his money in your face though. he never uses it against you or makes you feel like you're any less for not having the kind of money does. he's kind and generous with his money, more than his parents ever had been and he uses it to help whenever he can. you never have to worry, but he also knows when not to spend it. overall, he's incredibly understanding and always seems to know what's meaningful and what isn't.
boyfriend!reo who loves to take you out on the most luxurious dates. at first he did it to impress you and then was worried he maybe seemed like he was showing off. but the bright beaming smile on your lips when you got to dress up all pretty was enough for him. none of it mattered other than just being able to dress up for him in your eyes, and that's enough for reo. he loves when you feel beautiful.
boyfriend!reo whose really good with his hands. whether sexually or not, he just... always knows where to put them. his touch sends shivers down your spine and always causes a flush to run hot through your body. a simple touch to the small of your back, or his arm hooked around your waist, tight and reassuring. it's something so small, but it makes you swoon every time.
boyfriend!reo who loves calling you by 'love' or 'darling'. it could be for the most mundane things; "did you have a good day, love?" or "have you eaten yet, darling?" and yet, it sends you into a puddle of goo every damn time. the way the pet names leave his lips is so incredibly intoxicating.
boyfriend!reo who supports you undeniably with whatever you want to do. you support him in his dream one hundred percent so he wants to make sure he gives you that same sort of passion and support back. he's always willing to let you do whatever you need to succeed and never makes you feel bad for it either way.
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yourstrulyrika · 4 months
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rika <3 was wondering if u could write smth about leon reassuring reader? maybe she insecure, thinks that leon deserves someone better (ada maybe?)
you are sooo sweet to us all, i hope you are taking care of yourself!! xoxo
hello ♡ of course!! i actually love this concept, been thinking about this, so ofc! also love you too ♡ i’m glad all of you are following me!!
no warnings, pure fluff and comfort. heavy mentions of insecurity and mental struggles though. reader is hinted to be Leon’s mission partner, but not stated directly!! re4r!Leon :3
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you’re insecure, to say the least. always thinking you’re not good enough, that you’re ugly, undeserving— and then there’s Leon. the most perfect man you laid your eyes on, and he’s your boyfriend. he loves you, more than life itself — but even when he tells you that, you don’t quite believe it. Leon is honest, sure, but what if he’s just saying this? what if he just doesn’t want to make you upset? those thoughts keep nagging your head. your mind is your own hell.
and there’s also Ada. Ada Wong — Leon has said so many times they don’t share anything, that he doesn’t like her that way.She’s just the part of his life he can’t get rid of—
and that mere sentence strengthened your doubts. it got worse. so much worse.
you saw her like once in your life, and the way Leon looks at her. you started thinking he loves her, doubts eating you alive. Ada is so much prettier, so much better, smarter, stronger— the list can go on. you hate it. what if Leon likes her more and is with you out of pity? after all, he knows Ada for long years right? You know about the kiss— he says it was just Ada using his feelings and all that. you did not believe him. not one fucking bit.
since then, your mind has created a whole new scenario that Leon doesn’t love you. you can’t help it. you started isolating yourself, closing yourself in your own world and not speaking to him. any attemps at conversation coming from Leon were futile. you just couldn’t find it in yourself to speak. why would he want to speak with you anyway? he has Ada, right? she’s so much better.
but, Leon was going insane. losing his damn mind over this. he knew something was going on. why won’t you talk to him? what’s going on— why are you so damn quiet? pushing him away? he feels so confused, but also so stressed out over this. what happened? what did he do wrong?
he tried talking to you, but you just.. won’t budge. and he feels so damn horrible. he just wants to wrap you in his arms and comfort you.
“Please, just speak to me. Baby? Please, I beg you. I love you, you know that, right?”
you hear his words, but you don’t respond. why can’t he just go away? obviously he’s lying.
but he just gets so damn frustrated. he’s growing fucking desperate. your doors are locked— not letting him in. but he won’t let you isolate yourself any further. he literally breaks down the door to reach you, finding you laying down on the bed.
he kneels down beside your bed, reaching out to take your hand in his. when you don’t reach back, he frowns, but doesn’t push any further. instead, he lets you have your own space.
“What’s going on? Please, talk to me. No matter how silly you think it is.” he’s genuine when saying this. he genuinely cares about you so damn much, wants you to be happy with him.
you hesitate to respond, mumbling out a single “Ada Wong.”
and it was enough to hit him with a damn reality check. you were insecure about Ada. you were always insecure, but surely Ada’s appearance didn’t help. the way he’s looking at you, so sweet and loving, it tells you he understands. he stands up, sitting on the bed to cup your cheeks.
“Oh baby. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” that’s all he says while looking into your eyes to make sure you understand what he’s saying.
“I know what you think. I can see it right in your eyes. But please, don’t think she means anything to me. She’s a part of my past, sure, but she’s just the past. What matters is right now — and right now, you’re mine. I don’t feel anything towards Ada. That feeling left years ago. Please, let me prove it to you.” he says as he presses his lips to your forehead, interlocking your fingers together. you let him in, let him hold you. and he’s so damn happy over this — so desperate to reassure you.
“I missed holding you so much, princess. I love you, and only you. I’m all yours — everything I have, it’s also yours. My body, my heart, my soul belongs to you.” he whispers in your ear, laying down beside you, turning your position a little so you face him while he holds you.
“And I don’t want anyone else. No one. All I see is you. Everyone else just don’t matter to me. You’re all I want.” he’s peppering your face with little kisses, hoping you hear him out. he makes sure you fall asleep that night, in his arms. he’s holding you in his arms through the whole night, not letting go.
“There’s no one better than you. Not even Ada, Jill, Claire— no one. No. One.” he says this firmly, making sure you understand. or at least tries to get it into your head. he’s so hopelessly in love with you, literally could die for you. one could say he’s almost obsessed— in a way, he is. he thinks about you 24/7, even on his missions, when about to sleep, when training.
he falls asleep eventually, once you’re asleep— and when he wakes up, and sees you awake, he’s already all over you.
“Please, don’t leave me. Never leave.” he begs you; you can see how desperate he is. you never see him so open with his feelings. but he just can’t handle the thought of you leaving, he’s so damn terrified about this. looking at you with vulnerable, soft eyes, pleading you to understand. he loves you with his entire heart, and he means it.
“I won’t. I love you, too.”
you say, and that much is enough for him to pull you into a kiss. a deep, loving kiss where pours all his love into. it lasts until both of you are breathless, but even then, he doesn’t want to let go. lets you catch your breath, before pulling you into another kiss. locking your lips with his own, cupping your face. when he pulls away, he looks at you again, with a soft smile on his face.
“Let’s have a lazy day today, okay? I just want to pamper you, show you I love you so much. Just let me take care of you — I want to make sure you won’t ever doubt yourself over Ada again.”
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
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chamomile
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A/N: I was making myself a cup of tea earlier this evening and the idea blossomed from there 🥺
for @morallyinept Valentine’s Day masterlist 💗
~word count: 1.3k~
Summary: it’s Valentine’s Day and Dieter Bravo is alone and missing you
Pairing | Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Warnings: mature, fluff, angst, language,implicit smut, one mention of dieter giving himself a handjob, mentions of alcohol and ouid, fwb’s, pining, assumed one-sided feelings, two idiots in love without realizing it, typical dieter behavior, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is petal, +18 minors dni!
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On the long, lonely nights where Dieter Bravo is away from you, his solace, his person, he always finds himself struggling to sleep. An hour here, and an hour there, but it can never compare to the deep, dreamy, snooze he gets when you’re laying next to him, tangled up in his legs, under his sheets.
He knows deep down he’s got it bad for you. So bad, he can hardly think straight on most days. Dieter, you missed your cue, again.
He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and shakes his shoulders to relieve any pent up stress he’s feeling and to get back on track.
Did you even read the fucking script, Bravo?
He scoffs, jaw ticking under the harsh studio lights that buzz in his ear like a swarm of angry bees. Course I did. He lies through his teeth.
How could he even think about reading his lines when he spent hours of his night staring down his phone as he deeply contemplated the pros and cons of calling you up.
If I tell her how I feel, it makes everything fucking weird.
Or you get to live out your very own rom-com!
Or she never wants to speak to me again
Or she also confesses her deep, profound love for you.
Or..she doesn’t feel the same way and breaks my fucking heart into a million tiny pieces!
Or your dreams come true, Dieter.
-
You met Dieter Bravo through a friend of a friend at one of the movie star’s infamous parties. Dieter was drunk, a bit of a stumbling mess, but when his warm, and slightly clammy palm wrapped around your own, you knew you were donefore. And how was it possible for a scruffy man such as himself to have the kindest, softest, warmest brown eyes you ever had the pleasure of gazing into?
No, you were not in love with Dieter Bravo. He was just your friend..with the occasional benefits. Nothing more, nothing less.
When Dieter finds himself alone in his too big of a house for another night, he packs a bowl, and then another, and another. He takes a relaxing bath, alone with nothing but the comfort of his own fist wrapped around his cock. His lashes flutter shut, plush lips parting as he sinks further into the chamomile scented bubbles.
You told him once that chamomile should help him sleep better. He sent his assistant out the next day to buy chamomile tea, and literally any and all the chamomile scented products that she could find.
You took a bath together once, and he vividly remembers dragging his nose across the base of your neck, inhaling the sweet aroma while you nearly dozed off in his saccharine grip. Muscles relaxed, limbs pliant under the soapy water.
But you weren’t here. You were thousands of miles away on a girls trip with some of your single friends. It was the trip that finally made it out of the group chat, and it happened to fall on the week of Valentine’s Day.
Wait, that’s today, right? Shit. How pathetic. He thinks to himself, stroking his cock faster, creating ripples in the sudsy water.
Yeah, so fucking pathetic. Alone on fucking Valentine’s Day, and higher than a goddamn kite.
He doesn’t come, and while that in itself should be frustrating, he accepts his fate of misery while the temperature of the water becomes too cold to bear and he’s forced to retreat.
He packs another bowl, yanks his leftover Taco Bell from the fridge and eats it cold, like the feeling of his heart.
His king sized bed feels even larger than usual, and he chuffs a laugh, taking another bite of his half eaten crunch wrap supreme.
That’s because I’m fucking alone on Valentine’s Day.
He knows he’s not really alone. But on a day that is all about love, he sure as hell doesn’t feel the love.
He misses the way you would roll over mid sleep and drape your arm across his bare stomach. Your fingers would play with the dark, soft hair that led down to his happy trail while you drooled into the crook of his neck, soft snores escaping past your parted lips. He found it endearing. You were like a koala, and he was the tree branch of your choosing.
He so badly wanted to be your tree branch right now.
Was that lame? Probably. But Dieter could give less of a shit about any of that. He missed you, and the feeling ate away at him, carving a hole in his chest and yanking his heart right out.
He didn’t mind that you would accidentally kick him off the side of the bed, or steal all the covers. He loved it when you would talk in your sleep, babbling about pure nonsense that somehow to his ears made perfect sense.
Okay, so he missed you…a lot. He wasn’t the only person to miss someone this much. Hell, maybe even his neighbor was going through the same feelings and emotions as he was.
Love. Yeah, that’s what he was feeling. He was in love with you, and you had no fucking idea how he truly felt.
He tossed and turned, fluffed down his pillows, scrolled on his phone, watching his favorite saved tik toks, and he even tried listening to the soothing sounds of a thunderstorm through a podcast on Spotify. None of it was working. He couldn’t sleep, and you were to blame.
That’s how Dieter Bravo found himself in his kitchen, fully exposed sans some fluffy slippers on his feet that had seen better days. He dug through his pantry till he found the familiar box of chamomile tea. He let out a sigh of relief and tore open the silver foil with his teeth.
His phone screen read 2:30a.m as the kettle on the stove whistled loudly in his eardrums.
The familiar scent of chamomile coated his senses in a warmth that could only be described as you as he let the tea bag steep in his favorite chipped mug.
His knuckles drummed along the countertop nervously as he stared down his phone once more. He let out a huff, bringing one hand to scratch at the patches in his scraggly beard.
As steam billowed from the mug next to him, he finally picked up his phone and dialed your number.
He chewed on the tip of his thumbnail, eyes dancing nervously as the dial tone rang, and rang. He was ready to hang up and toss his phone in the garbage disposal when you finally answered.
His heart skipped a beat and his weed-hazed mind couldn’t keep up with the rate that words were flowing past his lips.
“Petal? Hey, happy Valentine’s Day. Well—er, happy belated Valentine’s Day? ‘Suppose it’s already over. Uh—hope I’m not bothering you, I just couldn’t sleep, so I’m in my kitchen having a cup of chamomile tea, like you suggested. Fuck, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I smoked a few too many bowls so my brain is a bit scrambled. Anyway, I miss you, baby. I’m so lonely, and I wish you were here.”
His stoned rambling continued on as you listened silently, holding your phone close to your ear and swatting at your friend's arm when they asked who was on the phone. The club music was booming at the same rate that your heart was pounding in your chest.
“Hi, Dee. I miss you too. I've been thinking...when I get back, can we grab dinner sometime?" You warmly suggest.
His pupils are blown wide like two shiny marbles illuminated under the soft glow of the moonlight trickling in through his tall kitchen windows.
“Fuck yes. I’d fucking love to grab dinner with you sometime, Petal.” He rasps softly through the receiver.
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