#sorry for the late fic!
Note
PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg
Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding
a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon
You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?
Well, this is a bit like that,
not a bit actually, completely so.
And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.
It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.
I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.
And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed...
until today
Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.
"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.
"nothin'" he grumbled,
Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,
he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.
"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."
Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second
"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"
"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,
and as always when it was her,
he was convinced faster than he liked to admit
He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said
"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,
who sighed, again.
"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"
"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery
"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"
"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed
"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,
perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.
"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"
again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly
"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"
"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"
"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"
Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes
"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"
It was like he froze,
and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason
"she doesn't like me" he stated
And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face
God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him
"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"
"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"
Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.
"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"
But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,
about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,
how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,
how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.
And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.
Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance
"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"
Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes
"SO WHAT?"
You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake,
it was only right for her to finally shout it out
"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"
But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying
"you just have to tell her"
she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.
Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.
"I can't Ellie, I-"
"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"
"that's different"
"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"
And that, for some reason, stuck with him,
He really had nothing to lose,
It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,
And yet... yet it still terrified him,
"Ellie... I don't know"
"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"
__ __ __
Joel didn't do it.
He couldn't. He just-
You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,
like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands,
And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.
He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.
Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.
"Howdy"
The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,
but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,
he was looking at you
"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut
You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.
"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant
Why is she here?
"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged,
Us?
"Uhm, I-"
but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind
And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.
"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly
"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.
What the fuc-
"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh
Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-
"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"
"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.
"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"
God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his
"do you- do you want something to drink?"
the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,
you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture
because that's how you were: Magical
"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"
If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,
to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.
"thank you" you said, taking a sip
god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.
He needed to get a grip.
"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass
Was this really happening?
Was this hell?
"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."
"that?"
"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"
Goddamnit
"oh"
Even you couldn't hide your disappointment
I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in?
Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...
You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,
The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks...
and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.
What a silly fool you'd been,
hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,
but still- a girl can dream, right?
"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,
but he remained silent
"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"
Until he wasn't
"no-stop- I-"
Ellie was right.
He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.
The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words
Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,
He had nothing to lose and everything to win,
he had you to win.
"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down
Think Joel, think
how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?
"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.
"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least"
What was going on?
What the fuck was he saying?
"Joel, what are you talking about?"
This was it.
It was now or never.
"Y/n I-"
his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-
"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"
he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.
"Y-you like me?"
"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"
"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked
"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,
but you were leaning closer,
and who cared what his name was anyway
"you were rude to me"
"I was, I'm sorry I-"
You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together
But who were you kidding?
"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.
Joel was certain he had just died.
But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,
only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months
exactly how you imagined he would,
better than you imagined, actually
so much better.
"Ha! I told you, Joel!"
He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance
"What are you doin' here?"
"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face
"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile
"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"
She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile
"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"
You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red
"Ellie-" Joel grumbled,
A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work
"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.
"maybe I was" he fessed up
You smiled even brighter
"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time
"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around
"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.
"say it again"
#sorry for not posting lately im not going through the best time at the moment#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#joel miller x f!reader
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your manic pixie dream girl and nightmare bad boy all in one
I love binggeyuan sooo much. If I'm MIA, it's because I've fallen into quite the rabbit hole lately and going into hibernation!!
#my art#fan art#svsss#danmei#mxtx#binggeyuan#luo bingge x shen yuan#sorry i read so much good fic of them and it's ruined my life.#wolf boy that is a sopping wet dog x secretly very milfy otaku came for my NECK. won't lie!!#ough binghe we're in it now#been particularly mentally ill lately but this is my “nice” account so im hiding it in the tags#read nyoomerr's fics guys. pip is so good!!
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deliveries
words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.”
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.”
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?”
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod.
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut.
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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#sorry for the boring fluffy fics lately#i just need themf dslk#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb#rafe fluff#rafe Cameron fluff#soft!rafe#soft!rafe cameron#soft!rafe cameron x reader
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Commission I did a few months back for @gracefulsouffle ‘s Hunter-centric time loop fic, Again and Again, (Chapter 17!) Go check it out!!
#the owl house#hunter wittebane#hunter noceda#the golden guard#Toh hunter#Toh fanart#Toh fic#myart#palisman#Toh comic#paper coms art#paper coms#gracefulsouffle#I thought I posted this last time but I didn’t! sorry it’s so late#everyone go read rn!! it’s forty chapters that’s so amazing how do people write fics!
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beer & apologies
(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)
It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.
“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.
“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.
Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.
Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”
“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”
Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.
“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.
“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”
Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.
“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”
“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”
“I know,” Eddie says softly.
A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.
“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.
Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.
Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, well maybe, but—”
“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”
Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.
“You two make up?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.
“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”
“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.
He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.
“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.
Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”
Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.
“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.
“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”
“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.
“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”
“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.
“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”
“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.
Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”
“Promises, promises.”
“I will!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”
Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”
“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.
Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.
He feels like a liar.
#i have returned and i come bearing fic#i straight up don't remember my tagging system so#oh well#911#911 abc#911fic#buddie#buddiefic#911 spoilers#abbie writes#its a coda friends you know what im about#also i'm gonna revive the tag list tomorrow so sorry in advance to anyone who sees this and then gets a crazy late tag!!#or doesn't want them anymore lol
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I know the sound of your heartbeat
#very normal about them i promise#once again have fallen down the rabbit hole of something and that something this week is supersons sorry#supersons#dc#edit#jonathan kent#damian wayne#jondami#damijon#if anyone has any fic recs of them...send it my way ive been reading so much of them lately LOL
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the game’s the game
“What was going through your mind when you spotted the Snitch?”
Two camera shutters go off like lighting, but Draco doesn’t blink. It’s almost the end of the season, and he’s done a press conference every week. He’s used to them.
“Fucking finally,” he answers, and the journalists all laugh. They think he’s joking, and he can already imagine the articles they’ll publish tomorrow pronouncing him cheeky and funny, but he means it wholeheartedly. Six hours in the sky, drenched all the way through his pants in rainwater, and facing the very best player in the league? He had half a mind to jump off his broom if only to have the game end somehow.
“This is the second time you face PU and well, Harry Potter, this season,” says another reporter, a young, pretty woman with her hair pinned up and a reverent tone when she speaks Potter’s name. Like everyone. “Are you expecting to encounter him at this year’s Cup? And if so, how does that make you feel?”
Draco breathes out hard through his nose. Across the room from him, sitting at his own table against the wall opposite, Potter’s doing his own press conference. He’s wearing a hat backwards, the light blue of his team hoodie contrasting with his golden-warm skin tone. He has a hand to his chin, rubbing his short beard in thought at some question he’s being asked. Probably about just how sweet it had been to snatch that Snitch right from under Draco’s nose. He’s earnest and so gorgeous Draco can’t stand the sight of him.
“The game is the game,” Harry’s voice carries, clear and chesty, deeply masculine as he says his favorite little quote that means absolutely nothing and that fans have been yelling and tattooing on their bodies the whole season. “We don’t take any victory for granted. Coach has been running us to the ground, she won’t stop until we have that trophy in Puddlemere, and we’re doing our best to make her proud.”
“Oh, I’m certain we’ll face them at the Cup,” is what Draco answers at last. “Honestly? I think no other team comes even close. We’ll face them, and then we’ll bring the Cup home to Appleby. As Potter himself likes to say, the game is the game.”
All the cameras around him go off, the sound of Quick-Quills scrabbling and the reporters’ scandalized gasps at his use of Potter’s quote. He grins, puts his olive green Arrows cap on and stands to leave. He needs a fucking shower.
Later on, he’s sprawled on his hotel room couch, drying his hair with a towel and watching a replay of the game on the enormous television, making mental notes about his own flying, his mistakes, the times he dove too soon or hovered too low. When the screen follows the blue jersey with POTTER 7 emblazoned across the back, he looks closely, trying to spot mistakes but knowing he won’t find any. Potter’s probably the best flier of the century, and Draco loves Quidditch too much to lie to himself about that.
He’s admiring one of Potter’s physics-defying feints when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, his heart takes up a gallop, and he has to press a hand to the center of his chest with a frown.
“Calm the fuck down, Malfoy,” he mutters. It’s a disproportionate reaction and he’s irritated with himself for it. It’s not as though it’s the first time. Or the tenth.
He pauses the game with a flick of his wand and makes his way to the door, through the archway that separates the TV room from the kitchenette. A quick look at the archway across the suite to make sure the bedroom is as he left it, and he’s at the door, taking a deep breath.
Potter’s grin is huge when Draco opens. He’s foregone all his team outwear, and is now in a familiar, worn leather jacket and a black sweater. His hair is wet, as though he rushed after his shower so he could get here quicker. Draco opens his mouth to say something, but before he figures out what, Harry pushes inside, turns around and presses him against the door, big hands gentle on Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart hasn’t gotten the “this isn’t the first or tenth time this happens,” memo, and is still running a marathon inside his chest, so he says nothing.
There’s a plastic bag in Potter’s hands. Dinner, probably, he usually brings dinner when they meet after a game. His wide smile reveals white teeth, a crooked canine that Draco knows is a baby tooth that never loosened. Round, stylish glasses cover the most intoxicating green eyes Draco has ever seen, and they’re shining with tonight’s victory. And Draco might be — definitely is — the world’s sorest loser, but he’s also the world’s biggest slut for Quidditch excellence, and he has it right here, holding him against his hotel room door.
“The game is the game?” Harry asks, amused, already leaning in, the hand on Draco’s waist moving to wrap the whole way around him and pull him close.
“Just some stupid phrase I’ve heard from a dickhead,” Draco answers, but the words hold the shape of a smile and are uttered right into a kiss there at the end.
It’s always a race at the start. They're both high from the game, still in that mindset, and it’s a competition to see who can undress quicker, who can make the other harder, who can earn the first moan and coax the first orgasm of the night. But after that first one, after Draco’s jaw aches dully and Potter is softening between his legs, everything slows down a little. Potter helps him up and they share the tacos Potter brought, watching the last minutes of the game they played earlier with Draco’s legs up on Potter’s lap, where he’s massaging his knees, his quads, making sure he’s not achy from kneeling for him.
“I really fucked that one up,” Potter comments. His tiny self on the screen just pulled out of an impossible dive at what looks like a 90 degree angle. He sounds earnest, which is the only reason Draco isn’t kicking him right in his beautiful face.
“I hate you so much. Only you would call that a fuck up.”
Potter hums, his massaging hands moving from Draco’s calf to his heel, his thumb pressing into his sole. On the screen, tiny Draco swerves a Bludger aimed to his head, and his teammate Owen is flying to him to make sure he’s alright.
“That guy is so into you,” Potter points out.
“I know. We fucked all through rookie year.”
Potter turns to look at him so fast it must hurt his neck. Draco raises an eyebrow, confused at the strong reaction.
“What?”
“I — I don’t know,” Potter says, suddenly sheepish. His hands haven’t stopped moving over Draco’s foot. Potter’s skin is dark, but Draco can still make out the blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Isn’t it weird? He’s a teammate.”
There’s something he’s not saying. It’s evident in the way he bites his bottom lip, in the way he obviously wants to look away but is too ridiculously brave to actually do it. Draco’s heart thumps inside his chest, so hard he’s sure it must be audible to Harry too.
They’ve never named this thing between them. The first time they did it, after the quarter finals one year before, with Potter’s ill advised kiss that ended with them fucking in the showers of the stadium after Potter had wiped the damn dust with Draco on the pitch, they agreed to keep it quiet, and that was the last they discussed of it. It’s going on fourteen months since then, and they’ve done it at least once a month, when the league brings them to nearby towns, and sometimes when it doesn’t and they take a quick midnight Portkey to each other to blow off some steam.
Draco had never in his life been as well-fucked as he’s been this past year, and he definitely doesn’t want to lose it. Potter’s always been honest and open with him, vocal in bed about how much he wants him, filthy in his occasional text messages when they’re apart, but he’s never given any indication that he wants anything other than exactly what they have.
“It’s not weird,” Draco says slowly, unsure of what to think of this exchange. “We stopped a while ago. I was clear that I didn’t want — that I’d rather we stayed friends and teammates, without any complications.”
“Right,” Potter says. He sounds relieved, and Draco feels like he’s three steps behind the conversation they’re having. He’s about to ask, but Potter’s fingers on his calf smooth over an old knot and he groans instead, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion.
“That feels great,” he says, and Potter repeats the motion.
“Yeah. I think you pulled it when you made that X turn.”
The turn he made to try to beat him to the Snitch, he doesn’t say. How he had enough awareness to know Draco attempted it while diving for the Snitch himself is beyond comprehension, but Draco has long accepted that Potter is simply insane about the game. He notices everything, considers everything, takes every risk. If he weren’t a player himself, Draco knows he would be following Puddlemere and Harry wherever they played for the entire season, wearing a pale blue jersey with the number 7 on it.
“Probably,” Draco says, closing his eyes and groaning again when Harry keeps pressing the same point. After a moment, he feels something softer brushing his calf, and opens his eyes to find Harry bent over his leg, kissing a path up towards his knee. He can’t help the embarrassing little sound he makes, and Harry’s laugh is a puff against his skin as he keeps moving up, breath warm on the wet trail of his kisses up Draco’s thigh. In the background, the presenters are going crazy over a feint Harry pulled, the sound of the audience carrying all through the stadium and out of the TV speakers.
Harry has made his way high up and is kissing Draco’s birthmark, a brown, apple-sized beauty mark an inch below his groin when he lifts his head to ask, “Why didn’t you want to?”
Draco can’t believe he’s using his mouth to speak at that moment. He licks his lips, trying to make sense of the question.
“What? What are you even — ?” He tries to sit up a little, but Harry moves over him instead so they’re eye-level without Draco having to move at all.
“With Caddell. Why didn’t you want to keep seeing him?”
“Owen? Why the fuck are we talking about —,” Draco lets his head drop down onto the cushions again, a sigh punched out of him. Harry takes pity and leans forward to kiss him, lips soft over Draco’s, knowing exactly how to coax his kisses out of him the way he likes best.
“I just want to know,” Harry whispers against his lips. He’s breathless just from touching Draco, from rubbing his legs, from kissing him. Fuck, this is insane.
“I like him, but it wasn’t very exciting.” Draco says. He closes his eyes as Harry begins to kiss down his neck, and tries to really think about it, because he’s not even sure himself. “I wasn’t willing to risk our teamwork when what we had wasn’t even that … electric. I don’t know. This sounds insane.”
Harry shakes his head, his beard rubbing against Draco’s collarbone. “It doesn’t. I get it.” He bites on the delicate skin connecting neck and shoulder, licks a path down his chest. “I get electric.”
“Fuck yes you do,” Draco says, nonsensical, but he feels he can’t be blamed when Harry is brushing his lips over his nipples, broad hands moving around Draco’s body to secure a grip over his ass.
“Is this?” Harry asks, mouth nearing the V of Draco’s hips, the edge of the trail of hair leading to his crotch. “Electric?”
Draco swears, fingers running through Harry’s hair and finding a grip, hard. “If you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I — yes.”
He spreads his thighs to accommodate Harry between them, one hand gripping Harry’s hair and the other curled around the cushion over his head. It is electric, the way Harry knows exactly which buttons to push, sliding a finger inside him while keeping him on his tongue. He’s a prodigy in this too, the star player who knows every move in the playbook that is Draco’s body.
It feels like no time at all, no effort at all before Harry is pulling back, dragging Draco closer by the waist and working himself inside. The feel of it, the sound of them together, the look into Harry’s open gaze, his sweat dripping onto Draco’s chest and his hands underneath Draco’s back, holding him, pulling him onto him, have Draco nearing release almost too fast for his liking, but the night is young and it’s been so long that he lets himself go, a cord snapping in his core, eyes open as he watches Harry watch him come apart.
“Come on,” he says once he’s come down, lifting his hips, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. “Show me what you got, Potter.”
Harry groans and leans forward, kisses Draco’s jaw and his neck, and drives his hips faster. Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s back, moves with him as much as he can in the tight embrace, and remains close as Harry meets his own peak and tumbles down the edge.
They lie together for a couple minutes afterwards, panting into each other’s skins, basking in the afterglow.
“Some pro-athletes. We have the stamina of two eighteen year old virgins,” Draco mutters into Harry’s hair after a while, and feels Harry’s chest rumble with his laughter. The room is cast in the warm glow of the foot-lamp that stands beside the sofa they just fucked in, exactly like two eighteen year old virgins having the chance to touch for the first time in their lives.
Harry always goes boneless and slow after a good lay, so Draco eases him off his body with tenderness, a gentle hand to Harry’s chest, followed by a kiss.
“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He whispers.
Harry groans. “I don’t want to move.”
“That’s too bad, because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed. Some idiot drove me to the ground on the pitch today.”
He stands up and shakes out his legs, testing the soreness of his muscles. There’ll be an ache tomorrow, but nothing he can’t handle.
Despite his complaint, Harry is already standing up too, coming up behind Draco, a hand finding its way to the flat of his belly, his forehead on Draco’s shoulder as though he can’t bear not to touch him for even a second.
“Bed it is,” he declares against the skin of Draco’s shoulder, sounding halfway asleep already. Draco huffs a laugh and pulls him towards the bedroom, pausing at the kitchenette to grab two glasses of water that he watches Harry drink in three gulps, a couple drops sliding down the sides of his mouth, into his beard and down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“What?” He asks when he catches Draco watching him, and Draco shakes his head and pulls him to bed. He’s so handsome it’s genuinely upsetting sometimes. Draco thinks he’d throw a tantrum about it daily if it weren’t for the fact that he gets to touch him.
They try their best, but they don’t manage a second round before their eyes fall shut, tucked into each other like two hands cupped under a stream of water, tumbling into a satisfied, exhausted sleep.
Harry wakes him with a kiss before daybreak, the last of the night chilling the room and puckering Draco’s skin.
“Do you have to go already?” Draco asks, one eye still closed and a hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, not entirely on purpose.
Harry shakes his head, kisses him again with a gentleness that is meant to go nowhere but extend this kiss, warm and sweet.
“I thought we could talk.”
Draco is nodding before fully grasping the meaning, but even once he does he’s not tempted to back away. Must be the night, still cocooning them, must be Harry’s arms around him that are making him brave, but he’s not nervous anymore, not now that he’s remembered what they’re like, together.
“It is electric,” he says, suspecting that’s what Harry wants to talk about. “It’s always electric with you.”
The smile blooms slowly, lighting up Harry’s face from within, his beautiful eyes, unhidden this early in the morning, his glasses still on the bedside table. Harry sits up a little, clears his throat. It seems like he’s been gearing up for this, he’s squaring his shoulders the way he does before trying a dangerous feint, before performing a play that will have Draco biting dust. This insane, wonder of an athlete. Draco forces himself to shake the last of the sleep away, to focus on him, on what he wants to say.
“I know that … so many of us want you,” Harry starts. “On your team, on mine, the whole league, actually. But I —”
He looks like he’s stating an absolute truth, like he has irrefutable proof, and Draco is taken aback. He knows some of the guys find him attractive, but that’s not the same as being wanted. He shakes his head. “What? Where did you get that?”
“I’ve talked about it with the guys, but that’s not the point,” he adds hurriedly when he sees his eyes widen. Draco hasn’t said a word to anyone, not out of shame, but out of sureness that they were sneaking around, that they were making it a point to hide. Apparently, he was wrong. Harry continues, “What I want to say is … I know we’ve not agreed on anything, that you’re free to want others, be with whoever you want to be with. I thought that you knew where I stood, that if you weren’t saying anything it was because you didn’t want the same thing I did, but it’s been brought to my attention that if I’ve not made an honest offer, I can’t assume you’re saying no.”
Draco’s heart is hammering inside his chest, inside his throat. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if he’s right, it seems Harry is saying …
“I don’t want this to be a once a month thing. I want to bring you home, I want you to meet my family, and I want the guys to know that I’m saying no to all the people they set me up with because I’m taken and completely uninterested in anyone else. Are you … is that something you want, too? I know you might have better offers, but I – ”
The covers crinkle under Draco’s knees as he sits up, throws a leg over Harry’s body so he can fully sit on his lap and brings him forward by the neck.
“You beautiful idiot. What could be a better offer? Why would I care about any other offers when I have the best one right here?”
They’re kissing, and Harry’s gasping, and Draco’s frenzied heart pounds against his sternum. He nods into the kiss, feels dizzy with how much he wants what’s being offered. Fuck. There’s nothing he wants more.
Harry pulls back a little, whispers: “Does this mean we’re — ?”
“Yes, fuck. It’s — The game’s the game.”
“What — That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Shut up. It’s your quote.”
Then they’re laughing into a new kiss, and it’s not the first, or even the tenth time they’re together like this, but Draco’s heart still goes crazy for this man, for his unlimited talent, his openness, his electric company. Quarter finals are coming up, then semis, then they might meet again on the pitch and Draco might lose and throw a strop and want to tear the hair out of his head over the beautiful Quidditch Harry plays, and then they’ll get to go home and celebrate a victory. No matter who takes the trophy. That’ll be the game.
Read On Ao3
#quidditch rivals but ohh they’re secret lovers bet NOBODY saw that coming#kinda unsure about the tone shift at the end but ITS LATE I’m sorry ok#I just wanted earnest Harry which is MY FAVORITW THING#drarry#drarry fic#Draco Malfoy#Harry Potter#my writing#mywriting
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morning RoR cuddles🤍☀️
((ref 1, 2, 3))
#i kept seeing those photosets on my pinterest and they are so seb and clora i had to draw them i had no choice#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#hogwarts legacy#choccyart#SORRY ITS NOT A FIC UPDATE POST i used to be able to pump out a chap a week no problem but my motivation has been slower lately
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dear followers, today i offer you the good boah. tomorrow? who knows... (wip)
#iiiiii loveeeee arthur morgan#sorry for not posting art lately i was busy with watching rdr2 walkthrough and then reading HUGE mosrton fic since thursday (40/46 already)#yes i ship morston and probably will draw them. you've been warned ☕#rdr2 arthur morgan#arthur morgan#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption two#morston#by 0039pf#digital art
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🕶 with Barbatos please??👀 also yes on MC! (sorry for being specific, you can ignore it if you want but can it be directed at mc i'm not normal about Barb)
"I saw a little thing I didn't like you tried to hide." - Barbatos/MC
content warning: blood, reference to torture/gore
Barbatos has a reputation.
It is one that you remind yourself of at times, when you get lost in his sweet words and even sweeter treats. Those soft smiles, his ever-readiness to serve, his meticulous attention to detail so that things were always perfect for you – he would insist you had him wrapped around your finger, but sometimes you wonder if it truly isn’t the other way around.
After all, while you loved that side of him – one that few had the privilege to witness – you could not help but be intrigued by the part of him that reigned in the shadows.
The part of him that delighted in the slow torture of a traitor. The part of him that could use a knife to cut up a bleeding-heart artichoke just as deftly as an actual bleeding heart. The part of him that could drive someone mad just by warping the space around him, damning them to experience eternity in a matter of seconds.
Perhaps you were a bit too intrigued, your morbid curiosity having led you now to wander the dark halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle in search of him. He was supposed to meet you at the foyer earlier, but when the ever-punctual demon was nowhere to be found, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You wanted to see if you could catch the consistently composed butler off-guard, unprepared.
A fool’s quest.
You pass an archway and stop in your tracks, swearing you heard a faint scream from down below. A metallic scent pervades, your stomach churning as you take a step, and then another, and yet another – slowly descending the stairs, unsure of what you’ll find at the bottom.
It’s dimly lit, torches along the walls flickering with magic flames. Your eyes adjust, and your heart nearly skips a beat as you see Barbatos in the distance. You dive behind a wall, peering around the corner to observe.
He seems to be talking to someone, though you can’t see who. A cell, you think, as you notice the iron bars gating certain areas. The light catches on an object in his hand, something silver, and you realize he’s cleaning it off with cloth. Your own hands fish out your D.D.D., opening the camera function to zoom in and get a clearer look.
Oh.
He’s splattered with blood, standing in a pool of it. It’s a sight to behold, and you’re unable to tear your gaze away from him. Slowly, your finger goes to the capture button, taking a photo of the scene. You duck back into the passage, checking to see how the shot turned out – and chills run down your spine as Barbatos seems to be looking straight into the lens.
“Tsk, tsk.” Gloved fingers tightly wrap around your wrist, forcing you to turn around to meet a dark gaze that you knew all too well. “I saw a little thing I didn’t like you tried to hide.”
“B-Barbatos!” His name leaves your lips in a squeak. You don’t know how he got to you so fast, but you do know it’s better not to question it. “I-I’m sorry, you didn’t show up earlier and I got curious and wanted to look for you so I ended up down here and then I found you but I didn’t want to disturb you and –”
He puts a halt to your rapid explanation with a single finger against your lips, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s not like me to forget or lose track of the time. I must make this up to you immediately.” He lets go of your wrist, examining you once over before taking a step back. “But first, I need to freshen up. Shall we go upstairs?”
With a nod, you follow him back up to the brighter hallways of the castle, though he pauses once you’re at the landing. “...And what are you going to do with that photo?”
“Oh.” You can feel the warmth rush to your cheeks. “I, uh … just kind of wanted it for myself.”
“Is that so?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, see the way his lips twist into a smirk. “Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I can let your little reconnaissance slide. Next time, however,” he leans in close, breath ghosting your ear. “Just ask.”
#SORRY this is late#wrapping these up for real now#will finish up the last couple this week#but yes we're also not normal about barb totally understand#obey me#obey me!#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me barbatos#obey me barbatos x mc#obey me barbatos x reader#om! barbatos#obey me nightbringer#obey me fic#obey me drabble#writings#4000 follower celebration#the all encompassing [mod] cosmos
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Fanart from @carpisuns's seriously adorable fic, the Death Defying Flirting Methods of Willow Park!
#toh#the owl house#toh hunter#hunter noceda#willow park#toh willow#huntlow#the owl house fanart#carpisuns#sorry this is so late omg#everyone if you haven't read the fic please go check it out it's adorable#I actually squealed#in the meantime enjoy my horrible left handed writing#fairytalesandfolklore#lollytea#thank you both for the consulting help :v#ash art
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fragile.
' you have broken down my defenses, and i don’t really resent it. '
- vita sackville west
in which you really don't want to care about him and his careless attitude, but you always find yourself coming back to him. always.
feat. diluc ragnvindr & gn!reader
w.c : 5k
warnings : childhood friends to lovers, diluc lore spoilers, minor angst but ends w fluff, diluc ragnvindr.
note : happy new year! sorry for the delay hehe, but this is for @seraphiism's 2023 collab event !! please support the other authors and enjoy the fic ^^
your mother had always instructed you to stay close to her side, to never stray far away from her lest you find yourself in trouble with the master of the winery or the other servants working the orchards and tending to the land of the estate.
but with a beautiful land of ripe grapes and friendly staff greeting you as you rush past them, how could you ever just sit still beside your mother as she did her job around the winery?
the late summer breeze rushes past your face as you weave through the wooden stakes holding the wiry vines of grapes above you. the warm sun rays heat your skin as you leap over the small rocks that litter the passage leading into the main area of the ragnvindr estate. the wind whispers in your ear, making you grin as your little legs take you wherever it guides you.
you feel free, the wind pushing past your wings to lead you to your newest adventure around the manor.
your feet land firmly on the grounds behind the manor when you hear the gentle sniffles coming from behind a couple of barrels. despite your mother's warnings echoing in your head, you take gentle steps towards the sound as curiosity takes over.
you're not expecting to see a young boy with fiery red hair and matching eyes that hold the warmest, flickering fire glaring up at you with tears at the corner of his eyes and holding a bleeding knee.
"...are you okay?" you ask, kneeling down beside him. you begin to frown when he pulls his knee away from you and his glare deepens.
"i don't need your help," the young boy hisses at you and you roll your eyes.
"really? you don't need my help even though you're crying in a corner all by yourself?" you scoff at him. he doesn't say anything in retaliation and you take it as an okay for you to help him.
you pull a handkerchief from your pocket; nothing too fancy as your family couldn't afford the finest silks like the nobles could. it's cotton, white, and had a simple design of a little sparrow emroidered in the corner.
"i don't have any bandages on me," you mumble softly. your little fingers gently wrap the handkerchief around the young boy's knee several times before tying a small knot on it. without even blinking, you lean down to kiss the wounded knee.
"what are you doing?!" the young boy exclaims, yanking his knee away.
"kissing it better," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "my mother always does that when i get hurt. she says it takes the pain away and makes it heal faster."
"that's stupid," the boy mumbles with a glare.
"says the one who tripped and fell and hurt himself," you argue back. you stick your tongue out when the boy shouts out a 'hey!' and roll your eyes.
"who are you and what are you doing here anyways?" you ask the young boy, kneeling beside him once more. he's still glaring at you, but it's less hostile than it was a few moments ago. "my mom said strangers aren't allowed to be here."
the young boys eyes are red, vibrantly so. the life in them burn brightly, reminding you of a fire as it flickers with warmth and a promise of a brighter tomorrow. like the hearth of a fireplace, the young boy seems to be the incarnate of warmth itself with the way he's filled with the flame of life.
"i live here, dummy," he quips back at you with a frown and your eyes widen.
"really? i've never seen you around, and i've been everywhere on this estate," you reply, bringing your thumb and forefinger to your chin as you remain deep in thought. truly, the only people you've managed to catch were all adults working for the master of this winery. never once have you seen a kid running along.
with a bright smile of your own, you lean towards the young boy. "we should be friends! since i don't know anyone else to play with here, we can play!"
the boy looks you up and down with furrowed brows, but he slowly nods. "...okay," he mumbles and you grin brighter.
"great! what's your name then? i'm-"
your name is shouted as hurried footsteps rush towards you. your mother pulls you aside as she looks at the young boy in front of you with panicked eyes.
"young master, i'm so sorry if my child said or did anything to hurt you," your mother says in a rush. she pushes your head down to bow in front of the young boy. she hisses something into your ear and you stutter out your own apology too, even if you did nothing wrong.
you find out the young boy you helped earlier that day was the son of the nobleman your mother works for, diluc ragnvindr. apparently, he's some big deal because he's the young master, but what kind of big deal hurts himself and hides between the barrels instead of asking for help?
you huff as you kick your feet sitting down by your bedside. because of the whole debacle, your mother had ordered you to stay inside to prevent even more debacles from happening even if you explained that the young master getting injured was not your fault. the sun shining from your windowsill feels so far away as you stare outside and ponder what to do.
until you hear a light pattering sound come from your window.
your curiosity is piqued as your small frame approaches the glass panes, wide eyes peeking over the wooden frame as your eyes scan the scenery.
the foliage of the trees surrounding your home cast shadows over your house with small animals running back and forth from the greenery above, causing the rustling of the leaves. the sun trickles in through the gaps of the leaves and your eyes settle on the boy with red hair standing outside your window, a small rock in his hand.
there's a proper bandage on his knee now as it was properly dressed, and his fiery eyes meet yours. he looks hesitant at first, but his brows furrow and his lips open to prepare to speak.
"...come outside and play with me," he tells you when you push open the window in your bedroom, a slight pout in his voice.
"you got me in trouble," you reply shortly, "and now i'm stuck inside because of you."
the young boy bites his lip, pondering what he could do or say to make things better. from the way he's thinking hard enough for you to see steam coming out of his ears, you could tell that he was trying really hard to think of anything to say.
"i'm sorry," he mumbles, kicking the dirt with his shoe.
"sorry, what was that?" you ask, holding your ear out.
the young master huffs, his cheeks puffed out in annoyance. he stomps his foot before-
"i said 'i'm sorry'!"
you smile at him smugly before crossing your arms on the windowsill. it was amusing to see the supposed young master like this; for such a renowned young boy, he was such a cry baby.
"okay, i can't go outside, but we can still play inside if that's okay," you tell him with a bright smile. "i'll let you in!"
"diluc..." he says, red eyes meeting yours. he reminds you of a fire with the way he's looking at you; so full of life but almost burning you if you get him too riled up. but the flames are tame now compared to the anxious flickers you saw earlier before he apologized.
"okay; i'll let you in then, diluc!"
ever since that warm summer, you and diluc have been inseparable; every afternoon is spent exploring the land of the winery but never straying far enough to get lost or end up on the other side of the lake where monsters lurk.
you were there the evening master crepus brought home another young boy around your age home; his blue hair reminding you of the blueberries your mother bought from mondstadt for you to eat. it was a bit of an adjustment with another young boy to play with, but soon you got along well with him as well.
his bright blue eyes always sparkling as you invite him to play alongside diluc and his little hand held in yours. he reminded you of the stars above with the way his eyes twinkle with youth and reflect the night sky above you when the three of you snuck out of your homes to stargaze with your hands holding onto each other until the morning sun began to rise over the horizon.
with your hands held tightly with diluc's and kaeya's, your youth together was only just beginning.
it's a cool morning where the early frost is beginning to melt as the sun continues to rise over the horizon, spreading her warmth and love across the fields of dawn winery. the young master has been gone for a couple days now; something about some sort of knight exam or whatever happening in the city of mondstadt. you would have gone with him, but your duties lie in caring for the winery whilst your friends head off to the heart of mondstadt to finish their training and hopefully become part of the knights of favonius that crepus ragnvindr had always encouraged them to be a part of.
you know having their father's praise meant a lot to your dear friends and you could only hope for the best for both diluc and kaeya as they were off doing their duties.
your ears perk as your name is shouted through the winery along with the sound of hooves rapidly against the dirt road. over in the distance, you can make out a red haired young man galloping over on his steed at near full speed. with wide eyes, you try to tell him to slow down before you get trampled and-
"oof!" you groan as a heavy body slams into you, both his weight and warmth tackling you to the ground. you're thankful that his arms cradled your head as you both go tumbling into the dirt road underneath you and the only pain was that of your body against the floor.
you don't even get to question why diluc had tackled you to the floor when he pulls his face away from you, giving you a clear view of his expression. he's smiling brightly, a wide grin on his face and his eyes of rubies twinkling brighter than any flame you've ever seen. the flames of his soul flicker brilliantly in his excitement and you can't help your own match his energy.
"i got in!" diluc says, his boyish smile growing wider. the small divots in his cheeks are cute and evidence of how hard he was grinning at the news. "i passed the trials got to do the oath swear and- oh, i wish you could've been there!"
despite growing up into a more mature-ish teen, it is moments like these where you're reminded that even as time passes and he grows taller than you, diluc is still the bright eyed boy that you've known since you were young. he looks so cute, in an endearing way, when he eagerly tells you all about his trials and how tough they were.
you really hope that the young master stays the same as he is now.
with a gentle hand, you reach up to ruffle his hair; it's soft to the touch and your eyes don't miss the way diluc pauses in his excitement as your fingers weave into his hair. you assume it's because he's not used to your praise and brush it off, even as he leans into your touch and waits for your words.
"why don't we head inside first? i want to hear everything that happened, but inside where it's warm and comfortable rather than on the dirt floor, diluc," you say to him, a slight lilt in your voice. you laugh softly when you see his cheeks flush a little in embarrassment before he gets off of you.
"i apologize, i was just so eager to tell you," diluc says softly, reaching down to offer a hand to you. you take his hand; you can feel the natural warmth emanating from his body through his gloves and, before you know it, you've been pulled up from the ground. his arm wraps around your waist to assure that you're balanced as you stand up.
"i just," diluc begins. you watch him as the young master of the winery averts his gaze briefly before he meets yours, warm rubies enveloping you with nothing but the comfort he holds for you ever since you were both younger.
"i wanted you to be the first person i told and to tell you."
a wave of something pleasant washes over you knowing that diluc, the heir of dawn winery and one of the most hardworking and talented man in all of mondstadt, rushed back home on horseback in the early hours of this chilly morning just to announce the news to you in person.
just so he could be your first in regards to his good news.
you laugh softly as something warm settles into the pit of your heart, squeezing his hand in yours as you tug him towards the main mansion of the winery estate with no intentions of letting his go for the time being.
even with the budding flowers of youth begin to bloom and the happiness that was promised to you has yet to come, you would have never expected for the spring of your youth to end so abruptly.
it happened all so quickly; crepus ragnvindr wielding a delusion, his death and the anger of diluc exploding, and the fall of your friendship with kaeya and diluc.
you weren't given the details of either one's situation, just a witness of a near death experience and the unforgiven apologies spewing from kaeya's lips as he held his injured eye in the midst of the rain washing down on them as if mourning both the loss of crepus ragnvindr and the wound wedged deep between the relationship of the ragnvindr brothers.
it was like in a mere second, the once warm diluc that would blush and hold your hand so delicately had been wiped away and replaced by a diluc grieving the loss of his father as the flames of his anger and betrayal of both his own brother and the knights of favonius for trying to brush the murder of his father under the rug explode and engulf his entire being.
he doesn't even give you a proper goodbye, leaving only a letter dedicated to you and his vision dimly glowing on his nightstand behind.
it feels like a fever dream when you hear the news of diluc finally returning after all of these years. you don't even hear it from the man himself; rather, from the whispers and excited chatter that the master of dawn winery had returned home.
part of you is excited at the news that he's alive; with no news of his existence after he ran from home in search of the truth behind his father's death other than the faint glow and warmth radiating from his vision clutched in your hands when you missed and worried for him, you were ecstatic knowing that he truly was home now.
that he's alive and breathing and still with you.
and yet, another part of you twinges in pain that he didn't come to you and announce that he was home. he had left you without even a single goodbye, not even bothering to visit you and explain his situation before leaving you questioning whether or not he even cared about how you felt about him.
of course, you aren't entitled to being the first to know, but after growing up together and usually being the first to know of everything in your youth, your heart aches knowing you were one of the last to hear of this at the winery.
it doesn't help knowing that you have not even caught a glimpse of diluc after his supposed return.
so imagine your surprise coming home one evening, the cool night air biting against your skin as you return home after a long day's work, seeing a figure leaning against your home.
at first, your blood turns cold as your heart races in your ears; it couldn't be anyone bad... the winery is a safe place and any suspicious figures are dealt with accordingly before they even step close to the winery grounds. you don't even have anything to defend yourself against if they did happen to be someone with malicious intent.
you take a step back to turn tail back to the estate but freeze when you begin to recognize the figure outside your door; red curls resembling that of flames flickering in the air and warm ruby eyes that you could recognize anywhere. despite standing in the dim evening light and having only the glow of the lantern outside of your home, you could make out the injuries through his dark clothing.
just what did he get himself into?
you hesitate at first, but eventually let your instincts take control as you begin to walk over to your home. it's as if you were both in the blooming stages of your youth again, bringing diluc home to mend his wounds after training for the knight exams.
caring for him was like muscle memory to you, even after all of the events leading to him leaving you in the dust.
you don't say a word as you open the wooden door and guide diluc in, pulling out a chair by the fireplace. wordlessly, he sits in it as you leave to prepare to clean his wounds.
your fingers shake ever so slightly as you remove diluc's coat from his shoulders, the heavy fabric falling to the floor with a thud. you apologize softly as you begin to unbutton his shirt and, as each button is undone and reveals more of his skin, your fingers begin to flinch every time your skin brushes against the skin of his chest.
his breath is warm, you can feel it against your skin as you slide off the remaining clothes on his torso. his chest is bare to you, and normally you would be gawking at how much he has physically changed since you were younger. but you cannot help but stare at how much he had been injured in the last few years you have seen him.
aside from the scratches from the most recent scuffle which led him to your quaint home beside his manor, scars litter his chest and arms. although most of them are healed, the damage that he had experienced was still evident on his skin and you hold back a gasp at how deep some of them had been; there's a huge scar that runs diagonally from the top of his chest to his stomach and you could already feel your stomach churning at the pain.
you couldn't imagine having to sustain those injuries for so long, and being alone through it all.
and, now, you hope that the injuries currently on his body heal faster knowing that he isn't alone this time. not when he has you by his side.
diluc's eyes burn holes into your skull as he watches you dip a towel into the bucket of warm water at your side; you pretend to ignore him. twisting the soaked cloth to rid it of the excess water, you gently begin to clean the wounded man in front of you.
a man you consider an old friend, but you fear he doesn't hold the same sentiment. not anymore.
it's quiet, the only sound shared between the two of you being the occasional sound of the towel dumped back into the bucket and the crackling of the fireplace in your living space. the moon casts her illuminating rays through the window of your home, but her light is nothing compared to the comfort of the fire in your home.
the comfort of the man in front of you, even if you didn't want to ever admit it to him now.
the glass jars containing the disinfecting ointment for diluc's wounds clink gently as you open them to spread over his skin.
"why are you helping me?" his voice breaks the thick silence between you two. his sudden question makes your hands pause, but you don't raise your head as you think of something to reply.
"and let an old friend bleed to death outside my door? you think i'm that heartless, diluc?" you ask him. your fingers resume their previous job of slathering the medicine over his new wounds. "i could say the same to you, why show up to my house like this?"
another silence follows your words and you assume he's done interrogating you for your kindness to him.
"i had nowhere else to turn to," diluc says after a while. your eyes catch his fists tighten on his lap as he takes another breath. "you've shown me nothing but kindness even after i was so cruel to you."
you exhale softly at his words. of course he thinks dealing with his own problems this entire time was the worst thing he could do to you. if you were being honest, it did hurt when he seemingly pretended you didn't exist or pushed you away when he had returned home from whatever he was dealing with away from mondstadt.
you had hoped for a joyful reunion, one filled with tears as you finally welcome home your old friend. but he never announced when he was coming home and you only figured out through the grapevine. he was never home when you looked for him and when you finally caught a glimpse of him, your eyes would meet for barely a second before he rushed off elsewhere and leaving you in the dust.
according to kaeya, his brother whom you've kept in touch with throughout the years. diluc had changed even more ever since his return; he kept his feelings to himself and his face remained 'constipated,' as per kaeya's words, due to his inner turmoil.
but from everyone else, he had always been so kind to them. the old women in the city would always praise how gentle the young master was, helping them walk across the city or carrying their groceries if they needed it. the young women also constantly swooned over how mysterious, yet warm-hearted diluc was; seemingly cold in nature but treating children and animals with such tenderness.
"it did hurt knowing you were ignoring me," you confess as your fingers begin to unravel the gauze to wrap over his wounds. "even if you wanted everyone to think you've changed and have become cold and guarded, i know you're still the same caring boy i've known since we were young. i hope so, at least."
his skin is warm to the touch, another feature you realize has never changed about your old friend. with bated breath, you lift your head to let your gaze finally settle on diluc's own. just as you predicted, despite the physical changes, you can still see the diluc you once knew within the scarred and older man in front of you.
diluc has definitely gotten older; the baby fat on his face slimming down slightly to reveal a more defined jaw and the bags under his eyes were evidence of his restless nights away from mondstadt. there are light scars on his face, nothing too deep to keep from his princely demeanor but are definitely proof of a troubling journey, and he has grown taller than the last time you had seen him in your youth.
but one thing that has never changed is the fire the lights up his eyes. so red and warm, you're tempted to hold his face in your hands to get a closer look. they're so vibrant, alive like the embers that flicker in the fireplace that lights your home, as they stare back at you in anticipation of your next words.
"you would never intend to hurt me on purpose. so if i should have to wait forever for you to be ready to come to me like you've had in the past, i don't mind doing so."
diluc's stoic expression wavers at your words. a sliver of guilt shines in his eyes and he looks away briefly as he digests the words you've spoken to him.
he couldn't tell you the reasons why he always kept you at arm's length; was he wary of your intentions for always being kind to him despite how he treated you or was he so used to people close to him lying to his face that he feared you were also pulling a facade?
or was he scared of you sharing the same fate as his family should he loved you with his heart on his sleeve, a fate of being held in his arms as he feels the warmth that once comforted him when you were young fade away like the embers in the hearth of a fireplace?
diluc did not want to know and he did not need to know, not when you're looking at him with such trust and compassion that he finds it hard to even hold any distrust towards you.
his dear friend from his youth who was always there to pick him up when he fell.
you did not break through the walls shielding diluc's heart for you had already found your place beside it, holding he's life with your gentle hands and protecting his soul's flames with your faith in him.
"i'm sorry," diluc apologizes to you, looking into your eyes. one of your hands is grabbed to be held by him, rough and scarred and so calloused as it held the memories and grief of what he went through to become like the man in front of you, the gauze held in your other. his warmth seeps into your skin, heating up your skin as the flames of his heart grow and encase your entire being within its embrace.
your lips part to say something, but he continues to speak.
"i thought keeping you away would benefit us both," he takes a breath as his eyes scan over your own features, taking in all that has changed since the last time he saw you in your adolescent years; how much you've grown both physically and emotionally. you look so much more mature than the naughty child who ran around breaking their mother's rules just to play with him or the dear friend who would bicker with him endlessly during their teenage years.
the years of their beautiful youth, years that he wished so dearly he could go back to and live in that peace for eternity.
but while the winds continue to blow and move time along, you've continued to stay the same despite the change.
you're still so kind, so inviting to someone like him.
you treat him like the friend you've remembered in your adolescence, even if his hands were bloodied with vengeance and his heart is scarred and wounded from betrayal and deceit.
he is still diluc, just diluc in your bright and beautiful eyes; he always had been.
his hands squeeze yours tightly, hoping that he has the courage to say what he wants to say.
"i don't deserve your kindness, or your love. but if i imagine a life where i have succeeded in pushing you away and we no longer talk," diluc begins, the fire in his eyes wavering as they hold your gaze.
"i don't think i would ever want to live a life where you're not in it."
diluc's words shake you to your core; it's something you wouldn't expect him to say now after all these years. as much as you want to immediately forgive him and push back the years of agony, waiting for any sign that he was alive while leaving his vision behind, or even watching as he ignores you despite being home after all these years, your heart aches knowing knowing he even did this to you in the first place.
"how can i know that you won't leave me like you did?" your voice is small despite being so close to him. in fear of having him see how much his actions have affected you, you face tilts down to your lap to avoid his gaze. "i can't just wait for you forever, it hurts sitting here all these years with a promise i don't even know if you'll keep."
you take a shaky breath as you speak again.
"you didn't even say goodbye."
your voice breaks as you say those words and you can feel the burning sensation as the tears threaten to spill over your eyes.
there's a moment of silence between the two of you before you hear him gently call out your name. his free hand reaches up to cup your face, tentatively guiding you to face him. he says your name again, softly as if even saying your name too harshly would cause you to break, and you hesitantly meet his gaze.
there's a tenderness that you recognize deep in those fiery pools in his eyes, one that flickers like the hearth of your fireplace and suddenly you feel like you're experiencing the most beautiful yet fleeting moment in life once more. diluc's thumb gently presses against your cheek to wipe away any tears that overflowed from your already wet eyes.
his pinky links with your own, a childish thing to do but one that you still hold dear to your own heart.
a promise between the two of you bathed in firelight and your youth reflected back at you in the shape of the young man sitting before you.
#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#genshin x reader#diluc fluff#diluc fics#didi writes#seraphiism'23#events !!#this was fun!!#sorry this is really late TT life is life-ing o(-(#n e wayz; i do think diluc would b such an annoying kid LOL#b r a t to the core#but he mellows out and all that fun stuff later#happy new year everyone ! i hope you enjoyed my (late) work !!
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Deep Water
nix! König x fem! reader
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.
notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).
You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.
For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.
As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.
There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.
You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.
If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.
During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.
When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.
Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.
The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.
“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.
You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.
You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.
There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.
The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.
Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.
When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.
You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.
It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.
You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.
You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.
Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.
You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.
This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.
He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.
No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.
You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.
Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.
You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.
It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.
You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.
Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.
The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.
You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.
The trek there is nothing short of dull.
No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.
The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.
Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.
No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?
There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.
You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.
It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.
When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.
Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.
You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.
The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.
You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.
“Best to leave you alone, hm?”
You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.
He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.
“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.
The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.
His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.
Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.
“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”
The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.
It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.
You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.
“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.
He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.
“Then what?”
Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.
“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.
You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.
Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.
All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.
You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.
Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.
Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.
Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.
Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.
The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.
A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.
Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.
You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.
“You didn’t come back.”
Of course you hadn’t.
Most people wouldn’t have.
“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.
Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.
“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.
“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”
“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.
You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.
There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.
The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.
He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.
When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.
#könig x reader#konig x reader#könig x you#konig x you#könig#konig#cod fanfiction#cod fanfic#konig fanfiction#i have been mulling over this for an eternity sorry it needed to be extracted from my brain#he is absolutely more lycanthrope coded to me but whoosh whatever nix König be upon ye#also apologies to everyone for not writing much lately and the fact this is hardly a real fic#cursed by the sleepy i just need a 10yr long nap#<- in my ‘in denial about burnout’ era
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Hi Ari!! Omg congrats on 11k your blog is doing so good!! 💕💫
and nsfw thought: just imagine you’ve been in a shitty mood so you were bratty with jj all day. And when you both get home he just fucks all the attitude out of you until ur crying from the relief omg I need him 😩
JJ MAYBANK — 18+ (i changed it up a bit i hope that’s ok!)
“you gonna behave?” “y-yes, j, fuck!” you moaned as jj pounded into you from behind while tightly gripping your hair with one hand and holding your hip with the other. he was fucking you like his life depended on it, fed up with your bratty behaviour throughout the entire day. so when you both finally got home, he hauled you into the bedroom and ripped your clothes off, his demeanour shifting abruptly.
“nah, i’m not convinced yet.” he swiftly flipped you over so you were on your back and immediately started thrusting into you again, his hand travelling towards your throat. the new position allowed him to hit your g-spot so perfectly, causing you to moan his name with your mouth agape. “feels good, hm? you love my cock, don’t you?” he asked, his voice laced with a fake sweetness that you foolishly fell for as you instantly replied, “hmm. feels so fucking good, j”
“too fucking bad, princess. brats like you don’t deserve to cum.” he growled, his voice darker and deeper with the false sweetness from earlier gone. your eyes sprung open right away with tears slowly filling your eyes as you begged and pleaded, “n-no, i need to cum, please, i swear i’m gonna be good. i’m sorry, okay! please baby” he simply chuckled in return, fully enjoying seeing you desperate like this. “yeah, that won’t do. you can cry all you want but i’m the only one that’s gonna cum tonight.”
#♡ — love letters.#this is so late omfg i’m going through all my old requests rn sorry sorry#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x female reader#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank fic#jj maybank concept#jj maybank concepts#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank brainrot#jj maybank drabbles#jj maybank drabble#jj maybank blurbs#jj maybank prompt
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made by hand
pairing: contractor!joel miller x housewife f!reader
day five of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: bondage
-> read her day five here
summary: He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.
warnings/tags: no outbreak, bondage, unprotected piv, joel's pov, age gap (joel is 40s, reader is not), yearning, dom/sub dynamics, joel is mushy, fixation, pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc), infidelity (reader is married)
word count: 1.5k
rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni
a/n: in the same universe as this one-shot but set far enough after to be readable w/out it!
main masterlist
Joel doesn’t know what he did to be able to have you like this—to be able to steal this time from you—when you have so much else.
Even worse, you’re a dream. Soft and gorgeous and strung up for him, belly flush to the mattress with your wrists laid over the knobs of your spine, gathered in a twist of baby blue.
He sits against the backs of your thighs, his own bracketing the swell of your hips, cock bobbing in a sticky pool over the smooth surface of your inner leg. You suck in a breath and punch out a whine each time you can feel the firmness of him, grazing over every slice of skin except where he knows you want him most.
He peers down, runs a hand across the link of your wrists, smiling when he sees the way you’ve tucked two fingers into the hollow of your palm—holding your own hand—like you have to discipline yourself one extra degree.
After taking his mouth and his fingers for as long as he’d pleased without too much push-back, your efforts don’t go unnoticed, “Go on and ask me what you want to ask me, sweetheart. Think you’ve earned that much.”
“Can you touch me?” He can see you tug against where you’re bonded, an extension of your plea.
Joel thinks it’s a sad thing, the made-by-hand contraption he’s used to restrain you—a wide loop of tall ribbon sewn through the center to leave a pair of loose cuffs. He’d originally crafted it because he wanted to give you something pretty—a gift that wouldn’t cause concern or raise any unwanted attention, perfectly mundane when stowed in the safety of your sock drawer. It was the first for-you-from-him that went beyond his body, something he selfishly hoped could also serve as a memento should he ever become just the past.
It took him one weekend to make and two months to bring to you, driving up that long stretch of unfinished pavement and pulling it out of his pocket, red-cheeked and anxious. The seams are jagged where he spent hours sealing them shut, barreling over each other in a weave to keep the integrity, the deep color of the thread more than a few shades off—steel against pastel. He had tried to hide the imperfections, smooth side up in his hand as he muttered some lame preamble about something nicer than using the underwear, sometimes. He remembers the face you made at him when you unwound his hold, no huff of laughter at his break in character like he thought, telling him you loved it.
It’s the only thing you use now.
“‘M already all over you; already put so much of me on you, in you. What do you mean, baby? Be more specific.”
“I need you—need it inside.”
He tugs on the center strip—the binding—rolling a finger over the lip to tighten the slack that allows the accessory to be slip-on. That feature, other than making the contraption reusable, alleviated the issue of markings; his stomach sinks when he’s reminded evidence is even a factor.
He bends down, initially careful to keep his cock at surface level when he hovers over you, the bristle of his beard behind your ear making him sigh, that spark of possessiveness bringing something hungrier, “Say it again.”
“Can you please put–”
“Don’t be smart. You know what I want to hear; say it again.”
Tipping forward on his knees, he lets the length of him run down the crest of your ass, passing through where he can feel your heartbeat, shining folds of flesh that beg to be parted—ever the fool who can’t deny you much for long.
“I need you.”
His chest constricts, heart dimpling underneath where you’re always holding it in your clutch; just the weight of your desire for him is enough to pull his body down through the ground, to the other side of the earth. He needs you, too, so desperately. Naively, in moments like this, with declarations like that, he sees success in all of this—sees keeping you.
Joel leans back, thumb sliding against the stripe of wet at your cunt, peeling back the seam to get a better look at the hole he wants so horribly to fill. His cock aches, heavy and hot and ready to take.
He wishes he could savor it—tries to every time—but he never knows how long this will last. How long it will be before you attend the couples counseling sessions your husband asks of you. How long before you decide that a house and kids and the life he can’t provide for you might actually be enough. How long it’ll be before you just tire of him. So he’s greedy, takes everything you feed him straight to the stomach; he doesn’t have the patience to chew, in fear of not being able to finish.
He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.
And he does—uses that exploring hand to guide the head of his cock to the slip of warmth you so meanly demand him to enter, so sweetly beg him to stay in.
“Again.”
He rolls his other wrist to gather up more of that silk, dragging the mess of limbs higher up your back, both for leverage and to remind you he’s strong—worth that, too.
When he slides himself in, he can feel the squeeze run through to the very tips of his toes, the points of his ears—boiling, syrupy heat that forces his body to lock up, terrified to fall over and take his last breath as a result.
“I’ll give you as much of this cock as you want, honey. Just want to hear a few little words.”
He pushes in firmly despite his threats, and so easily does he meet the end of you, apex of your womb perfectly made to receive him, like you’d been fitted for each other. He pants as silently as he can, setting aside his pleasure in favor of yours, not even to be distracted by his own voice.
Joel forces as much of his weight as you can handle on the bundle at your back, swinging into you with the power of everything he’s too afraid to confess. He can fuck that reassurance into you, instead—make up for his inability to be confident in those more tender moments with the role he takes in this swirl of lust.
He can tell by the way you constrict around him that you’re close, the squelch of where you meet heightening every time he moves in to the hilt.
“I’m gonna come, Joel. Fuck.”
“Don’t like askin’ twice. C’mon, focus.”
He bows again, bracing his legs so he can wedge his right arm through the slot at your hip, elbow flat to the bed as he reaches down, in. Your clit is smeared in your slick, running down from where he’s giving you everything, and thinks maybe you understand what he’s trying to tell you without words. He pushes as best he can against the bead, fingers working rhythmically to bring you there, knowing he won’t be able to take much more.
You’re crying now, it seems, from the broken shape your words take as they fall out, “I-I, Joel. I need you. Please. I love you.”
He can’t handle that, the pulse of his orgasm almost immediate, the fierce curl of your cunt around him no help. You whine under him, and if it weren’t for the risk of crushing you, he’d take his mouth to yours.
He fucks you until he can’t, until he expresses his response to exhaustion. He’s heaving by the end, forehead to your shoulder where it’s glued down with sweat.
It takes him much longer now to come down, to shimmy out from over your body, to release and turn and fold you into his lap.
Cruelly, he keeps the silk in his palm, thinking he can force another memory into it by making it bear witness to all of this; another knot in your ‘relationship’—as close as this will ever come to being that, anyway.
Joel breathes at the crown of your skull, hair tickling his lips when he finally decides to break the silence, “Do you really?” And before it has the chance to be taken away from him, “I love you, too.”
#SORRY this is late im on .... v*c*tion#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#kinktober#kinktober 2023#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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smitten: y/n (reluctantly) agrees to go to jimin's big halloween bash and she forgot how much she actually hated parties
➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader
➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook and smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boohoo angsty wattpady fic of your dreams!! the pining and yearning is off the charts!! jimin’s still an asshole but what’s new!!
➺ wordcount; 9.2k
➺ summary; putting on a smile while watching ji-eun cuddle up to jungkook is already hard enough, but when y/n is (reluctantly) invited to jimin’s massive halloween party, she can’t help but even more out of place.
➺ what to expect; “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
➺ currently playing on cee.fm; favourite crime [olivia rodrigo]
➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]; part three [the date]
»»————- 👻 ————-««
you’re pretty sure you’re in hell.
you’re not sure what you did in your past life to have deserved this, but past-life y/n must’ve killed a baby or set an entire village on fire or something to that degree because you’re pretty sure that in this current timeline, you’re in hell
you stay quiet as you munch on your (slightly soggy, unfortunately) sandwich, scrolling through your phone (but not really paying attention to your instagram feed because apparently you’re a glutton for punishment and you keep wanting to look up and just stare at jungkook and ji-eun in all their coupley glory) while your foot taps anxiously against the ground
you know that if you say you can sit somewhere else to give the two of them some privacy that jungkook will insist that you stay, but you feel like the longer you sit here the faster the people around you will see that you’re just a big ol’ monster truck sized third wheel
you could lie and say that you have to go to the library to get some work done, but jungkook’s really good at knowing when you’re lying to him (apparently you have VERY obvious tells which you were very unaware of) so that’s not going to be a feasible plan either
it’s just that being here is incredibly uncomfortable but it seems like the only option you have is to stay and sit through it — which, again, reiterates your point of you being pretty sure you’re being punished for something you did in your past life
“my handsome boy…” ji-eun giggles lightly, reaching over to adjust the collar of jungkook’s jacket before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “i like this jacket a lot.”
“yeah?” he gives his girlfriend a boyish grin, looking down at his jacket before looking back up at her, “lucky for you, you can borrow it anytime you’d like-“ you glance up at them, the little voice in your brain stopping you from interrupting them to say that that is a nice jacket because you chose it for jungkook — and you feel like that comment could potentially lump you into the pick-me-girl-best-friend category which you’d very much like to avoid
“borrow? no, i’m stealing it-“
“no way! i got this thrifted for, like, fifteen bucks, i’m not letting you steal it-“
“alright, then you better sleep with one eye open the next time i stay over at yours because this is a nice jacket-“
you can’t help but look over at the empty seat next to you on the bench as you let out a quiet sigh… you have never felt so horribly single in your entire life.
and it doesn’t help that it’s cuffing szn this cuffing szn that all over your social media — your tiktok feed has not been very friendly to you as of late, the app flooded with countless videos of cute couples bundling up for the colder seasons
if anything you need to be cuffed to the wall before you go crazy and rip your eyelashes out from frustration
unsurprisingly, jungkook and ji-eun are a couple now, but really, are you surprised? jungkook is great, ji-eun is great, they went on a great first date (thanks to you, let’s be honest) and all the dates after that went well too because it lead to jungkook asking ji-eun if she wanted to be exclusive with him
you knew that things were going well when jungkook started hanging out with you less and less
and then when they officially got together, you didn’t think it could possibly get any worse but your already puny twice a week hangouts turned into two hours a week before he’d zip off to spend time with ji-eun
in fact, within the last two weeks, he’s only hung out with you once… which is fine, because you understand the honeymoon stage and you understand how giddy people can be when they get into a brand new relationship and just want to spend all their time with this new person
you know for sure that if you were the one who’d gotten into a new relationship, you’d definitely want to spend as much time with your person because why wouldn’t you want to do that? you really can’t blame the guy
you have other friends you can hang out with, but it’s just not as fun because even when you’re having a good time with them, your mind keeps wandering back to what jungkook is doing with ji-eun
and of course, when jungkook mentioned to you over a quick lunch one afternoon that he was planning on asking ji-eun to make things official, it’s not like you could tell him that it was a horrible idea and that he shouldn’t be dating ji-eun without ruffling feathers and raising brows of suspicion
the only person it would be a horrible idea for would be you, and you’re not enough of a dickhead to ruin a potentially good thing because of your own desires
and obviously, she said yes because why wouldn’t she say yes?
…
you know, there really isn’t a way for you to talk about this situation without sounding like the most bitter person on the planet, so perhaps you should move on now
“okay, i’m putting you two on drinks duty for the party!” jimin seems to appear out of thin air and you turn your head to look at him standing at the front of the table with an armful of flyers and the usual bossy, snarky persona that literally drains you every time you have an interaction with him, “unless you’re too busy making out to handle that.”
“no, we can handle it-“ ji-eun rolls her eyes playfully, pulling away from jungkook before reaching over and plucking the list from jimin’s slim fingers, “jesus, jimin. twelve bottles of vodka??”
“i’ll give you my credit card, just put all the charges on it-“ jimin shrugs, sliding in next to you before nudging you over a little, “this is going to be my greatest party yet. i’m charging $10 an admission and i’m renting out this huge house- i don’t think you can even comprehend how massive this party is going to be. it’s gonna be so much better than last year’s one.”
“i remember hearing about your party last year!” you chime in, offering jimin a polite smile even though he’s not looking at you, “it sounded like it was super fun.”
“so, you guys are on drinks, so that’s covered-“ jimin makes a tick on his clipboard before nodding to himself, “decor is covered, catering is covered, rent for the night is covered…”
you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, slumping in your seat a little and resisting the urge to roll your eyes
you still have no clue what jimin’s problem is with you, but at this point you’ve gotten used to the way he acts like you literally do not exist at all
you mentioned it to jungkook one time, wondering if maybe you were just looking too far into it and that there was nothing to take personally to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod and a “no, i also get the vibe that he doesn’t like you and i have no idea why… just let him be an ass if he wants to be one, don’t stoop to his level. life is too short to waste energy on weird people.”
so if jimin wants to continue being an ass to you, you’re just gonna let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back
“funny enough, y/n and i were gonna go to your party last year, but the kids in y/n’s building were trick or treating so we decided to stay home and watch horror movies and hand out candy instead-“ jungkook clears his throat, eyes flickering over to you for a brief second, “we also, like, decorated the doorway like it was a haunted apartment to freak the kids out. and y/n had this great idea to have a cauldron filled with warm spaghetti and she told the kids it was brain stew-“
“oh my god, i forgot about that-“ you snort, “i feel like we should’ve done, like, warm pudding instead or something, but the spaghetti kinda had the same effect and my kitchen smelled like an italian restaurant for two weeks after that-“
“let’s talk costumes!” jimin interrupts you, smacking his palm down on the table before pointing his pen at ji-eun and jungkook, “please don’t show up in anything tacky.”
“we were thinking barbie and ken!” ji-eun grins, “not tacky, totally trendy — i know we probably won’t be the only barbie and kens in the room, but it’s just so trendy and i loved her pink sequinned cowboy outfit- or if that’s not available, i think the 80s skater costumes were a vibe-“
“i can’t whait to talk about horshes and capitahlism wiv a bunch of ovher kensj.” jungkook laughs lightly with a mouthful of sandwich, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it at you
you scowl playfully when it bounces off your forehead and lands on the ground
“you could go as allen, y/n. that’d be pretty funny.” jungkook swallows his bite, and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to include you in every part of the conversation because you can practically see the pity for you radiating off of him in waves
you know for a fact he feels bad that he’s not been able to hang out with you as much lately because every time you do hang out he always brings you a drink or a snack with sympathetic little puppy dog eyes
and every time you have lunch with him and ji-eun he’s always making an effort to include you in the conversation — especially when jimin is around because again, it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t like you
you and jungkook spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out why he didn’t like you so much, but you couldn’t come up with any conclusive results, so now whenever jimin is around, jungkook makes even more effort to include you in the conversation
“allen was my favourite character, so that’s not even a bad idea.” you chirp, pulling out one of the flyers from jimin’s neat pile before looking at it for the details
“oh, right. yeah, you can come too, i guess.” jimin clears his throat quietly, taking the flyer back from you with a chuckle, “…you don’t seem like you’d have anything crazy going on on a friday night.”
“i can come too? i thought that everyone was invited to this thing?” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to the little note on the flyer, “all it says is general admission.”
“…right.” jimin smiles sweetly at you, “and i suppose i’ll waive the fee for you since you’re… friends with jungkook.”
“how sweet of you.” you respond curtly, offering a smile just as sweet before letting it drop as soon as he looks away
you are absolutely dreading having to go to this party.
»»————- 👻 ————-««
“are you sure you don’t want us to come and pick you up? ji-eun has space in her car, you’d just have to sit in the back with all the drinks n stuff-“
“i’m good, jungkook, really-“ you mutter, pausing for a second to smudge out your lipstick before leaning back in your chair and turning side to side to look at your finished look
not that this is jungkook’s fault, but the fact that the two of you really haven’t been hanging out as often gave you a lot of time to think about what you wanted to dress up as for jimin’s halloween costume, and after a solo spooky movie binge the other weekend, you decided that you wanted to dress up as emily from the corpse bride
sure, it’s been done so many times — but you love the movie and you love emily and you had so much time to get everything you needed for this costume so why not dress up as her??
you reach up to adjust your blue wig, tugging at it slightly to make sure it’s nice and secure
“i’m just gonna uber there! plus, my place is kind of out of the way if you guys are already headed to jimin’s.” you clear your throat, “thank you for the offer though. make sure to let ji-eun know i really appreciate the gesture.”
“okay, i will…” jungkook murmurs, and you can tell by the tone in his voice that he wants to say something but he’s holding himself back, “i guess i’ll see you at the party, then? we’ll probably be there in about forty minutes.”
“yes, i’ll see you guys at the party.” you nod, wiping the leftover blue lipstick on your fingers on a tissue before reaching over to get ready to press the hangup button
“y/n?” jungkook’s voice crackling out from your phone speaker makes you pause, and you pull your hand back
“yea?”
“we’re- we’re good, right?” the question is somewhat of a surprise to you due to its weirdly serious, non-jungkook nature, your eyes flickering down to look at the contact photo you have set for your friend
he grins like a maniac at the camera, eyes wide and lit up with excitement at the cheesy corn dog he’s holding in front of him
the corner of your mouth twitches in a fond smile at the memory of that day — jungkook was convinced he’d be able to eat three corn dogs in one sitting and the day ended with him basically destroying your toilet and then refusing to let you use it until the smell cleared out
“what do you mean?” you clear your throat quietly, lips parting to say something else before you press them together and decide against it
“i mean- i know we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately so i just-“ jungkook coughs, “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
“i-“ you pause again, gaze averting to the side as you think about his comment
if you’re being completely honest, you don’t think everything is good between the two of you — the first reason why being the fact that you are still completely and utterly head over heels in love with him, and the second reason being that he’s in a relationship with someone else and you’re really not sure how much more of this you can take before you go insane
but this isn’t exactly something you can hash out over a crackly phone call, and you’re really not in the mood to potentially destroy two relationships at once
you really don’t know what you’re going to do about this emotional mess, but what you do know is that you’re going to have to take it day by day until you’re eventually ready to face it head on — and tonight, your only job is to smile, enjoy being young, and have lots of fun at what you’re sure is going to be an amazing party despite it being hosted by someone who hates your guts for no reason
“we’re- we’re good, kook.” you manage to push out, despite the words practically fighting their way out of your mouth, “you’re my best friend, too.”
“okay. so i’ll see you soon?”
“yea.” you look at yourself in the vanity mirror, wondering if the sadness in your eyes will make your costume that much more believable, “i’ll see you soon.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the six pack of lime seltzer water (you got the fancy kinds in glass bottles) clinks in their cardboard carrier as you walk on the sidewalk, blue heels clicking against the pavement as you follow the path leading up towards the house that-
“holy shit.” your jaw drops at the sheer size of this literal mansion — what looks to be an endless number of burgundy bricks separated by neat, thin layers of cement that are stacked on top of each other, two large, white columns that cast identical shadows on the curved sidewalk leading up to the large, black front door, and not to mention, the insane halloween decorations: huge spider webs stretched over the door and windows, fairy lights wrapped around the columns, a stack of pumpkins sitting by the front steps kardashian-style
you don’t like jimin but you have to hand it to him, he sure can throw a party
“s’cuse us, sorry!” a trio of girls dressed up as sluttier versions of the powerpuff girls brush past you, bubbles turning around to shoot you a grin, “love your costume, by the way!”
“oh, thank you!” your face immediately breaks into a wide grin, “you guys look great, too-“
the random compliment lifts your mood up slightly — you know you’re more than capable of making friends anywhere you go, so if jungkook is too busy mingling with the other couples, you know you’ll be fine
and hopefully jimin will be too busy playing host to give you any attitude tonight
you lift your dress up as you make your way up the steps, the corners of your mouth lifting in an excited smile when you see taehyung standing by the door greeting people and collecting their $10 by… having them tuck the bills into the waistband of his boxers
“magic mike?” you laugh, taehyung’s right eye dropping in a wink before thrusts his hips towards you
“you know it, baby-“ he coos, reaching over to pinch the fabric of your dress to pull you towards him, your cheeks flushing when you stumble into his chest, “be nice to me and i’ll give you a lil lap dance in one of the private rooms-“
“taehyung, i swear to god, do not let any of those bills fall into your boxers because i’m not touching anything that touched your penis-“ jimin pops up behind taehyung dressed in a veryaccurate joker costume, his usual blonde hair dyed completely green for the look
“hi, welcome to the party, $10 an admiss-“ the sweet smile immediately drops from his face when he realises it’s you, jimin leaning back slightly, “wow, corpse bride!” jimin nods, looking you up and down, “seems fitting.” he mutters under his breath, watching as taehyung tapes the neon orange bracelet around your wrist
“nice to see you too, jimin.” you raise an eyebrow, lifting the six pack up with your other hand, “i didn’t want to come empty-handed, so i brought some drinks!”
“you brought six drinks for a house party? six sparkly waters, too… interesting.” jimin scoffs lightly, plucking the carrier from you before offering you a saccharine sweet smile, “how thoughtful of you. drinks are in the kitchen - first two shots are free, and then it’s $15 a shot after that. cocktails are $5 each, mocktails are $3- you seem like a shirley temple girl anyway- and all of it can be paid through venmo. the bartender will answer any other questions you have. bathrooms are upstairs, and the results to the costume competition will be announced at the end of the night. there are fifteen winners, and the votes are made by everyone here, so you might have a shot at winning something here.” jimin steps aside, gesturing towards the party, “have fun!”
“thank you, jimin.” you smile politely, stepping into the house and immediately rolling your eyes as soon as you turn away from him
so you weren’t able to completely avoid his dickheadedness, but hopefully that’ll be your only interaction with him tonight considering he’s probably going to be busy playing businessman all night
$15 a shot is kind of insane, though
you keep your phone pressed flush to your chest as you manoeuvre your way through the packed floor, the neon lights flashing and disco ball glimmering from above making it damn near impossible to navigate this place without bumping into backs and stepping on toes
the DJ pumps his arm up into the air as he continues spinning his fingers against the discs, the crowd going wild as the song builds up to the chorus
you can already tell that most of the people here are drunk (you can smell it, too) and you know, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join them?
you can find jungkook later, and alcohol is definitely going to make this night a little easier to handle
“hi!” you smack your hands down on the marble countertop when you finally make your way to the bar, the vampire bartender turning to glance at you over his shoulder before tossing a cloth over his shoulder, “i want- something. shots, a drink, anything-“ your voice is already straining from the way you’re basically screaming over the music but this seems to be the proper way to communicate at a party like this
“wait, y/n?” your eyes light up when you realise that it’s none other than namjoon in charge of the drinks (and you wonder if your friendship with him will mean he gives you more drinks without charging you for it) and you let out a gasp as you lean over the counter to grasp onto his wrist
“namjoon!” you grin, “oh my god, thank god, finally someone i know at this damn party. why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here??”
“why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! i haven’t seen you at the library at all, otherwise i definitely would’ve talked to you about it- what can i get for you?”
“top-shelf tequila, baby. i saw the list of brands that jimin bought - i want the most expensive one.” you raise an eyebrow, namjoon laughing to himself before nodding
“alright, i gotcha- you need any chasers with that?”
“you got cranberry juice?”
“for you, i’ve got anything-“ namjoon smirks, holding a finger up to excuse himself
it’s five seconds later that you’re presented with not one, not two, but three shots of tequila, namjoon winking at you as he slides the cranberry juice chasers over to you as well
“you better take these before jimin realises i’ve given you a freebie- i’m about to take a break here, someone else is gonna come in a sec to replace me- you wanna dance?”
“um, of course i do!” you can’t help but squeal excitedly, “take one with me!” you push a shot glass towards him, namjoon shrugging before picking up the shot and downing it in less than two seconds
you take your second shot, eyes squinting as the burn of alcohol trickles down your throat
you immediately shudder, reaching for the cranberry juice and tossing it down the hatch
“oh, jesus-“ you hiss, shuddering against before sticking your tongue out in disgust, “god, that cranberry juice does not help whatsoever-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before namjoon has his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, giggles bubbling out of your mouth as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor to join the rest of the drunken crowd
»»————- 👻 ————-««
okay, so maybe this party didn’t turn out to be as bad as you thought it was going to be!
“that- oh my god-!” you throw your head back in laughter when namjoon pulls out the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, your eyes pinching shut as you clutch at your stomach
you’re not sure how much time has passed (to be fair, it’s gonna be hard to tell how much time has passed when you’re at a massive house party with flashing lights and nothing but the sound of speakers booming to guide you) but you know you’ve been having a lot more fun with namjoon than you’ve had with jungkook these last few weeks) ((in fact you’re having so much fun that you almost forgot you were supposed to be heartbroken that the love of your life is with someone else, but also, that could probably be the alcohol taking over))
you know at some point you’re going to have to go over and say hi to jungkook eventually because you don’t want him to think that you’re purposely ignoring him or something — after all, it’s not his fault that he likes ji-eun and it’s not something you can pin on him and grill him for — but for now, you’re going to dance a little more, sing a little more, and-
“i gotta pee!” you gasp all of a sudden, realising that you haven’t peed once since coming here and there’s a lot of tequila sloshing around in your system
“what?” namjoon furrows his brows, reaching up to tap against his ear, “too loud, can’t hear you!”
“i gotta go pee!” you repeat yourself, pointing towards the staircase leading upstairs, “’m gonna go pee n then ‘m gonna come right back-“
“oh, pee?” namjoon nods, finally catching your words before stepping aside a little, “okay, i’ll be right here!”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the silence of the bathroom is more than welcome as soon as you step in and flick the lights on, not at all surprised to see a pair of elegant looking wall sconces lighting up the space
you squint your eyes as you lean into the mirror, double checking that your makeup is still somewhat intact and you don’t look insane
“hm. not bad.” you mutter to yourself, turning your head from side to side before nodding, reaching down to pull the endless amounts of tulle up so you can hopefully not piss all over yourself in your tipsy state
…
…
…
you set the lid down as the toilet flushes, turning the tap on and rinsing your hands underneath the cool water
“oh, damn-“ you wince when you realise you’re washing some of the blue body paint away and you quickly turn the tap off, shaking the water off your hands before reaching for a neatly folded cotton towelette of course, because regular paper towels aren’t fancy enough for a park jimin party
you give yourself one last glance in the mirror (you could use a little more lipstick but it’s dark down there so no one’s going to be able to tell anyway) before flicking the lights off
“oops! i’m sorry-“ you apologise instinctively when you open the door and stumble right into someone, taking a few steps back before looking up to see that it’s jimin, “oh, hey…” you clear your throat quietly, standing up a little straighter before offering him a meek smile
you always feel like you’re in trouble when you’re around jimin and it’s the worst feeling in the world
like he’s the principal and you just got caught cheating on a test and he’s about to call home to tell your parents as punishment
or he’s an officer and he’s about to test you with the breathalyser and you know you’re going to fail because you definitely can’t walk in a straight line right now
“why am i not surprised that you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol?” jimin snorts, holding his hands out in case you fall over, “you better not throw up all over me, this suit is custom made-“
“i wasn’t throwing up in the bathroom, i just went in there to pee-“ you roll your eyes, placing both hands on your hips before shaking your head, “you are ridiculous, you know that? even if i was throwing up in your stupid fancy toilets, the normal thing to do would be to ask if me i was okay and if i needed some water! you- you are just so self-centred and just-“
“yeah, uh-huh-“ jimin reaches up to pat the side of your face with a smile, “by the way, if you were looking for jungkook, he’s at the VIP booth with ji-eun and the rest of us.”
“oh, perfect!” you nod, thankful for the information, “i’ll pop over and say hi in a bit, i think it’d be good to sit down too because my heels are kind of killing me and i wouldn’t be surprised if i had, like, a million blisters right now-“
“woah, i never said you were allowed to be in the booth with us.” jimin scoffs, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving, “silly girl.”
your lips part slightly as you look at him, and for a moment the only thing that can be heard is the faint boom and bass of the music playing from downstairs
“are you… serious?” you ask, unsure if jimin’s joking with you or not
the bored expression on his face tells you that he is indeed, super serious
all of this just feels so incredibly cliquey and immature and stupid and you know that you’re supposed to be the bigger person because jimin clearly won’t be and you like to think that you’re ten times more emotionally mature than him but he’s making it harder and harder for you to not want to shred up his nice suit with a pair of scissors and cuss him out in front of everyone
“i’m dead serious. i’m just telling you this so that you don’t embarrass yourself when your drunk ass stumbles over and tries to join us.” jimin says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world, “enjoy the rest of the party, sweetheart.” he brushes past you to head into the washroom and-
“you’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” you snap, jimin stopping in his tracks before turning his head slightly so you can just make out the side of his face, “i think i’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since i met you, and to be honest, i can’t even think of one reason why you are constantly so fucking rude and overall just unpleasant to me. i don’t say anything when you purposely cut me out of the conversation, i don’t nag when you ignore my questions and comments but respond to everyone else’s, and most importantly, i’ve never called you out for being a jackass when i think i’ve had every chance and opportunity to. if you have a problem with me, then just say so so that we can hash this stupid weird rivalry out and just get along. your best friend and my best friend are in a relationship, and i think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we at least try to get along-“
“oh, shut the fuck up, y/n.” jimin scoffs, turning around to face you, “you know, you always act like you’re better than everyone else, that’s why i don’t like you.”
you feel your shoulders stiffen at the comment before you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, “well, i’m sorry if i’ve given you that impression but that’s not my intention, i don’t think i’m better than you, i don’t think i’m better than everyone else, and i can’t control how you feel about me but-“
“oh my god, even when you’re confronting me about being a dickhead to you you’re still being a sensible goddamn person, it’s like you’re purposely trying to piss me off-“
“okay, well, i’m not going to apologise to you for literally being myself because there’s nothing i can do about it. this is a you problem, not a me problem, so if you insist on being such an unreasonable drama queen for however long we’re going to have to spend time together, then i think the solution here is just for you to ignore me — which, you’re already doing a stellar job of, congratulations — and in return, i’ll happily ignore you.”
“i hate when people aren’t themselves. i pick up on that shit right away, and i gotta tell you, y/n, you might be the fakest person of them all.”
“what the hell are you talking about?”
“i think we both know you’re hiding something from all of us. i think you’re hiding something from yourself, too. i think you’re lying to yourself.”
there’s a pregnant pause in the conversation and for a second you want to ask him what exactly he’s implying here, but…
“alright, jimin, well-“ you turn around to head towards the stairs, “you’re fuckin’ being weird, and i’m just trying to have a good time, so i’m just gonna go back down-“
“yeah, have a wonderful rest of your evening, corpse bride-“
you resist the very strong urge to whip around and literally just strangle the man, but you remind yourself that before you had this little interaction you were actually having a very good time
“y/n!” jungkook stands at the bottom of the staircase as you make your way down, being careful not to trip over your heels, “hi!”
“jungkook! oh, there you are- i was wondering where you were-“ you loop an arm with his as you drag him through the hoards of people and towards the bar (you really need a drink and it looks like namjoon is back on the clock)
“there you are!” he laughs lightly, reaching over to tap your hand gently, “i’ve been texting you all night trying to figure out where you were but- is your phone on do not disturb or something?“
“no, it’s not! i’m sorry, i should’ve checked my phone-“ you smile sheepishly, “i’ve been dancing with namjoon this whole time but- where are you guys sitting?”
“i don’t know, some area that jimin squared off for us and a few others- ji-eun’s been asking about you, she wanted to say hi-“
“oh! oh my god, yeah, i should probably go say hi to ji-eun-“ you gesture for namjoon to get you some water and he nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, :your ken costume turned out great, by the way-“ you laugh, patting jungkook’s bare chest, “it’s, uh- it’s really giving horses and the patriarchy.”
“thank you, thank you- and your costume turned out so cool too, we should watch corpse bride again when we eventually have another movie night-“
“sure! sure, for sure.” you clear your throat quietly, a moment of awkward silence settling in between the two of you
your friendship feels so… different now
like there’s this unspoken air of something in between you and jungkook like an invisible brick wall
and maybe it’s the liquid courage currently sloshing around in your body and the leftover exhilaration from finally calling jimin out on his bullshit, but now you have the urge to talk to jungkook about the weird tension
“hey, kook, listen-“ you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you but i’ve definitely been putting off for a while…”
all of a sudden, a drum roll begins to boom from the speakers, the spotlights darting around the crowd before shining towards the main stage at the front of the room, whoops and cheers bouncing off the walls as jimin waltzes his way towards the microphone, a cocky smirk on his face as he raises his hand to get people to quiet down
“oh, shit, the costume competition results!!” jungkook nudges your side as the two of you turn to face the front, “we can talk about it later, i wanna see who won what- i voted myself for best ken costume, so-“
you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and you nod, thankful for the interruption
maybe it’s a good thing you were interrupted
telling him in the middle of a party probably wasn’t the best idea, anyway
»»————- 👻 ————-««
once again, you really have to hand in to jimin
the man truly knows how to throw a party, because it seems like just about everyone is having the time of their lives — and this costume competition just made things so much more fun
there are definitely a lot of good costumes here tonight and jimin decided to change it up with twenty-five different categories to go through so he’s kind of speed running through the names
most scary costume, most realistic costume, most well-made costume: he’s got a lot of categories to get through
you keep a content smile on your face as the costume contest continues to go on, enjoying jimin’s commentary to the point that you nearly forget that the two of you hate each other and he totally just disrespected you like he’s never disrespected you before twenty minutes ago
“i wonder how that guy made it look like his head was floating… that shit was so cool.” jungkook claps his hands along with the crowd and you nod enthusiastically
“i know, right?! i’m sure he probably took it off tiktok or something - we can definitely look it up after the party and maybe we can try to recreate-“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that you guys haven’t exactly been the closest as of late so it feels weird to be offering to do something together, “um-“ you clear your throat, offering a half-hearted shrug, “yeah, we can, like, look it up later or something. maybe you and ji-eun can figure it out and let me know.”
“yeah! or- you know, you and me-“ jungkook licks over his chapped lips, “like- you know, like- old times or whatever-“
“yeah, yeah- maybe! maybe-“
“now, before i announce this special category, i have something to read because-“ jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth before cocking his head to the side, “well, let’s just say it’s some context for the best simp costume of the night.”
you can’t help but frown at the strange category — out of all the halloween costume competitions you’ve been to, “best simp” has certainly never been one that you’ve seen before
“just wanna remind everyone that this is just a costume competition, everything is based off the costume you’re wearing.” jimin adds, taking a slip of paper out of his back pocket before unfolding it with nimble fingers, “so, uh- you know. don’t take anything seriously, you know? just gotta loosen up and have fun.”
your brows dip slightly at the weird disclaimer
…
something about this doesn’t feel right.
“dear j, this is something that i’ve wanted to tell you for a while but have never had the courage to until now. throughout our entire friendship, you’ve been so kind and loyal and honest with me, and i think that you deserve the same, so this is me being honest with you.” jimin speaks into the microphone, reading the words off the slip of paper with a tone of amusement laced in his powder-soft voice, “to be honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, and i’ve tried so many times to push those feelings down but it’s clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon…” he recites, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he puts the piece of paper down, “any thoughts on who the winner could be? or should i keep going?”
your eyelids flutter slightly at the weird change in mood of the lines and a strange feeling of familiarity of those words
“me at that one hot english professor.” a voice pipes out from the crowd and that gets a round of laughter
you laugh along politely, but you can’t help but feel as though something is off
something is off
something is very, very off
“i cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want to do is to make things weird, so… you don’t have to worry about my feelings, you know?”
oh my god.
you feel the blood immediately drain from your face when you finally realize why these lines are so familiar — it’s because they’re from the note you wrote for jungkook when you were going to tell him you liked him.
your brain begins to work overtime to figure out how the hell jimin got his hands on that note and why the hell he’d think it’d be okay to read it aloud to this massive group of people and what the hell he’s even doing right now
“what i’m trying to say is that i like you, j. i like you so much that i don’t know where to even put my feelings, and i’m sick of holding my feelings back and pretending that i’m fine with being just your friend.”
you know that jimin’s never really been a fan of you, but even this seems like too much of a dickhead move even for him
you pluck at the cuff of your sleeve anxiously, tracing your steps all the way back to the day you were going to tell jungkook about your feelings for him and the note that you’d accidentally given him that you were hoping was rotting away somewhere in a dump yard but clearly isn’t
jungkook said he’d given ji-eun the note to spit her gum out into
but what if she uncrumpled the paper and saw the note?
and what if jimin was there when she uncrumpled the note?
and then they read it together and ji-eun mentioned that you were reciting this aloud in the bathroom and-
your heart starts to race in your chest and you feel the hairs prickle on your arms as anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach, and you know that no one’s looking at you but you feel like everyone’s looking at you
you feel sick
you feel like you’re going to throw up and explode at the same time
“how could you like someone for a year and not tell ‘em?” jungkook snorts, nudging you with his elbow, “who do you think the poor sucker is who said that?”
“beats me.” you breathe out, feeling yourself shrink slightly when you notice jimin starting to scan the audience, clearly laser-focused on finding you, “i have to- um, i think i need some fresh air, it’s a little warm in here-“
“oh- okay-“ jungkook doesn’t get the chance to say much else before you’re turning around, pushing yourself through the crowd of people and trying your best to stay calm
just breathe
in and out
in and out
in and out in and out in and out oh my god HURRY UP MOVE MOVE MOVE-
you’re sure that no one will notice if you slink out through the back
and you can always text namjoon later and say that it was great spending time with him but you had a personal emergency and needed to leave the party earlier
and if jimin decides to expose you, at least you’ll be gone and out of this house and nowhere near any of these people and you don’t have to look at their stupid sympathetic faces and you don’t have to deal with-
“and the best simp of the night goes to our lovely corpse bride.”
you freeze when the spotlight lands on you, your heart going a hundred miles a minute as it starts to beat harder and faster in your chest
you only manage to turn your head weakly to glance over your right shoulder, catching jimin in your peripheral view before you’re slowly twisting around to face him, feet glued to the ground
“why don’t you come up here and accept your sash, corpse bride?” jimin smirks, plucking the satin sash from (a shocked looking) taehyung’s arms before raising it up in the air slightly, “congratulations on winning, you get two free drinks from the bar. one for you and one for… well, probably also you. get on up here and claim your coupons!”
you feel your face burning bright red in humiliation and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from jimin, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides
this is a nightmare
this is actually a nightmare
this is traumatising in so many ways
the music seems to quiet down, a loud silence washing over the room as people look at you with expressions of confusion on their faces, everyone clearly a little thrown off at the weird category
eyes, there are just a million pairs of eyes on you and you feel like you can’t move or breathe or even do anything but stand still in shock
it’s only then that you notice the calculating look on jungkook’s face, his eyelids fluttering slightly before his eyes widen and his head snaps up and over to look at you
his lips part slightly as his eyes dart over the features of your face and you feel your entire body flushing in humiliation and shame, forcing your eyes away from your friend and back to the dickhead on the stage
“you are really something else, park jimin.” you manage to mutter out before turning on your heel and pushing your way through the crowd, people stepping aside to let you out
“aw, where are you going? you had a great costume, that’s all we were trying to say!” jimin laughs, actually laughs into the microphone before shrugging, tossing the sash over his shoulder before moving on, “alright, well, more drinks for me, i guess. the next category is best couple’s costume-“
“y/n- y/n, wait!” jungkook’s voice is the one thing you hear among the music and bustle of the crowd but he’s the last person you want to talk to right now so you pick up your pace upon spotting the front door
tears blur your vision as you finally burst out into the open air, your chin trembling as you try your best to keep your composure and not completely burst into tears
“oh my god, oh my fucking god-“ you whimper, sucking in large breaths of air
run, run, run, the only instinct you have is to run, and you reach down to yank both heels off before taking off into a sprint, the grass slightly damp beneath your bare feet
it feels very cliché to be running out of a mansion in a big poofy dress, but you can’t even take the moment to laugh at yourself because the only thing you can focus on is the fact that everything has changed completely and you’re forced to face reality a lot sooner than you would’ve liked
“y/n, come on!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook hot on your trail, “you can’t just run away from a discussion you don’t want to have, we need to talk because we both know that things have been off since i started dating ji-eun and now-“
“okay, well, now you know, then!” your chest heaves as you come to a stop to catch your breath (you have no idea why you thought running would be a good idea, you get winded after thirty seconds on the treadmill), spinning around to face your friend who skids to a stop, tripping over his feet a little before standing up straight, “the secret’s out, jungkook. we finally solved the puzzle. i love you. i’ve loved you for so long that i don’t even remember when i started feeling this way, but all i know is i love you. you’re the first person i think of when i wake up and you’re the last person i think about before i fall asleep. i would literally drop everything i was doing if you needed me, and you’re the only person i want to spend my free time with.” all the words that you’ve been holding in for the last who knows how long finally spill out, your mouth running uncontrollably, “i love you so much that i helped you set up your date with ji-eun, i love you so much that i’m willing to run in the rain just to get you a teddy bear and a bouquet that’s not even going to me, jungkook, i-“ you blubber, reaching up to wipe at your eyes, “i don’t know what to do. there is no one else in the world i’d rather be with than you, jungkook, and i- to be honest, maybe it’s a good thing that jimin did what he did because you do deserve to know the truth and you do deserve to know how i really feel about you. if this didn’t happen i think i’d just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, but you deserve to know this. i love you, jungkook. i love you and i don’t know if i can keep being friends with you if you’re dating someone else because it’s actually killing me on the inside-“
“i love you, y/n,” jungkook breathes out, and you feel yourself letting out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding
relief
for the first time in a long time, you feel relieved, like a massive weight’s just been lifted off your shoulders
you feel your heart soar in your chest, and suddenly it’s like all the humiliation and shame has completely washed away, and suddenly you have the feeling to run back into the house to thank jimin for doing this because you know you wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for this slightly traumatising experience
“i love you, i do, but… not in that way.” his shoulders droop slightly and you feel your heart beginning to crackle like a delicate glass sculpture, each splinter creating more damage than the last, “i love you like you’re the first person i call when i get good news because i know you’ll be proud of me, or when i get bad news because i know you’ll be there to comfort me. i love you, like i envision you standing next to me at my wedding fixing my tie or calming me down when whoever i end up marrying is walking down the aisle. i love you like you’ll be fun auntie y/n who spoils my kids with shopping sprees at the mall and who allows them an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. i love you because you make me a better person, i love you because you encourage me to be the best version of myself i can possibly be. i love you because you remind me to be smart and kind and humble and honest and i trust you to be the one to put me in my place if i ever need it but i-“
“stop.” you feel nauseated hearing all of these words coming out of his mouth, telling you that he loves you because and he loves you because but not just i love you too. “just stop, jungkook.” you know that you can’t control someone else’s feelings but you can control your own reactions, and if jungkook would’ve kept rattling on you don’t know what you would’ve said but you know you probably would’ve lashed out at him
and it’s good that you finally got your answer, right? he loves you, but not in that way — not in the way that you love him
“y/n, please-“ jungkook whispers, reaching out for you, his eyebrows scrunching together when you take a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself, “please, i can’t lose you as a friend, you mean so much to me-“
“i need some time.” you manage to force out, the sickening feeling of humiliation and shame and embarrassment and disappointment and frustration and anger swirling around in your stomach, “i just need some time.”
“how much time?”
“you should probably go back to the party.” you clear your throat quietly, offering your friend a weak smile, “i heard you and ji-eun were up for best couple’s costume. not saying that jimin rigged the system or anything, but-“
“y/n, how much time?” jungkook’s looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes, and though it breaks your heart to see him like that, you need to put yourself first for once
every instinct inside of you screams to console jungkook, to reassure him and let him now that you’ll still be around but you just need some space from him and the whole situation
your eyes begin to water again as you press your lips together, shaking your head quietly, “i’m gonna go see if i can catch the bus home.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
(- “the FUCK is wrong with you, huh?!” jungkook barks, slamming jimin up against the wall before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, “you sadistic fuck, who in their right mind would ever fucking do that to another human being?!”
“i’m the sadistic one?” jimin laughs, reaching up to wrap his fingers around jungkook’s wrists, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one whose been dangling yourself in front of y/n like a damn carrot to a starved rabbit-“
“what are you talking about?”
“you can’t stand here and honestly say that you didn’t have an inkling that y/n liked you more than a friend. i’ve seen the way you talk to her, i’ve seen the way you look at her, i’ve seen the way you are around her- you think i’m the evil one? at least i don’t take advantage of my friends who are CLEARLY head over heels in love with me and would obviously do anything i wanted them to do and ask them to help me set up a date that i’m taking someone else out on-“
“get a fucking life and mind your own damn business for once, you motherf-“)
🎙️ console y/n or call out jimin because what the hell was that?! (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)
#i'm so sorry this is so incredibly late#so so so so sosososososo endlessly sorry#mini series: smitten#bff!kook#bff!kook drabbles#jungkook fics#jungkook fic recs#jungkook university au#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook au#jungkook gifs#jungkook drabble recs#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook angst recs#jungkook one shots#jungkook headcanons#jungkook one shot recs#bts#bts fics#bts fic recs#bts jungkook#bts writer recs#bts author recs#bts smut#jungkook smut
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