#I actually drink every Friday basically but I am waiting for an event now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taecalikook · 4 years ago

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When the sea sleeps

summary : marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

{fake marriage! au, strangers to lovers!au}

pairing : kim seokjin x reader

genre : major tooth rotting fluff, crack, smut(?)

word count : 23.720 (one-shot)

warning! mention of period and masturbation, daddy kink, big cock! seokjin, teasing, cock sucking, rough blowjob, deep throat, nipple play, oral (female receiving), riding, cum play, major fluffy love talk (?), dry hump, infidelity mentions, etc. ((omg))

“Hi, I am in the mart near our apartment. Anything you want?”

“Yes, please. I think we ran out of toothpaste and cleaning liquid. And can you get the usual donuts as well? Thank you.” Your husband replies meekly from the other side of the call. You hum in agreement, noting the order.

“Will you be home soon?” You ask mundanely, a question based out of routinity instead of wanting an answer. Well, that’s just how it is with Seokjin.

“I don’t think so. Might have to stay late for work. You should head to bed first.”

“Okay, then. See you.” You nod and cut the call, shoving the phone to your pocket.

It’s been like this for the past two and a half years with Seokjin. Meeting him after being introduced by your mother, getting married after six months of vague dating, and then living rather as a roommate than husband and wife in your small apartment. Life has been good.

Well, it’s not like you are married for love.

Seokjin is 33 years old this year, and you are 31. Years ago, you weren’t really interested in marriage. You were fully capable of living on your own, not really interested in love and that’s about it. Even so, your mother never stopped sending you lists of men she’s going to introduce you to—but you quickly shut her off by busying yourself with work and all.

Yet no matter how heartless you might be, seeing your mother crying her heart out before bed for god to give you a good husband and family, you finally caved and agreed to one blind date. She couldn’t be happier to give you the name of your suitor.

Kim Seokjin. A 31 years old, living in his own apartment, working in a local bank as a manager.

When you first heard about him, there’s no outstanding or over the top qualities he possessed, and probably that’s how you prefer him to be. Yet when you saw him first, there’s literally nothing else you preferred him to be.

“I’m sorry for this, but… I actually have no interest in marriage.”

He thought you would be slapping him across the face after saying such a ridiculous statement on the first meeting, yet when your face lightened up, he was not less than confused.

“Me too! I only did this because of my mother.” You squealed in delight of finding the person that shares your pain. “I never intend to get married myself.”

“God, I was scared you’ll take this the wrong way.” He finally sighed in relief, was afraid of offending you. “My mother, she is.. sick right now, and she has never stopped saying that she wants to see me married before she dies.”

“I understood that. And I’m sorry, I hope she’ll be fine soon.” You sincerely wished him well. As far as you were concerned, Seokjin looked like a great guy. He deserved better, anyway, and high chance he would be a good friend. It’s not often to see someone not too desperate to chase love after reaching your age.

After another hour talking about anything but yourself, Seokjin reaches out for the bill. “Are you up for desserts?” He asked with a thin smile, and you nod happily, thinking about the sweets you were about to consume.

That evening, when your mother asked what happened with the date, you told her that she shouldn’t expect more about Seokjin. Yet the day after, Seokjin messaged you asking for a second date, your mother was over the moon. And that was how you spent another six months in a vague relationship with Seokjin, where it seemed like both of you were serious, yet there’s no feelings attached. Seokjin was a best friend, and an outstanding listener, but that’s about it.

One day, Seokjin asked about the idea of marrying you, whether you would detest the idea. And strangely, you didn’t. The week after, Saturday night you were just sitting in his apartment eating his homemade dishes, Seokjin asked whether you wanted him to marry you. After setting a few basic rules, and just like that you agree.

That’s how you’ve been living with a bestfriend-like-husband.

Sex is absolutely off limit, and not that Seokjin has initiated it before. You are sleeping in the same bed, but Seokjin generously chooses the giant king bed that is rather disproportionate to the whole room to ensure both of you have personal space in bed. In the morning, Seokjin usually cooks, and you’ll take turns cleaning the apartment. You’ll water the small plants near the window, changing your bed sheet, and cleaning your wedding photo from dust.

On Saturday or Sunday, both of you will have brunch together in the nearest cafe then lounge around watching netflix on your large TV. Once every month he’ll have a drink with fellow friends or you’ll meet up with your best friends, and meet with your parents or in-laws.

Living with Seokjin is a series of routinity, and you actually don’t mind. Maybe you're already in the age when you are surreptitious, and had enough of surprises.

After taking a long warm bath and getting inside your comfy sheets, you settle for a while in silence until a name comes up on your screen. Your mother-in-law is calling. You abruptly rise to sit, pressing the green button. “Hi, mother. How are you doing?”

“I’m very great now listening to my precious daughter’s voice!” She gleefully squeals, strangely energized. You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already ten. Now it reminds you Seokjin’s not home yet. “Seokjin’s father is having a birthday lunch this Saturday. You can come right? Do come by eleven, okay?”

“Ah, I see. We will, mom.” You smile, internally noting the event to let Seokjin reserve his time. The talks then continue with your condition, whether you’re well or having sickness whatsoever—you know she actually means to ask if you’re going to give her a grandchild anytime soon. You answer demurely, not that it surprises you as your own mother has been going on and on and on about it as well. But how can you say that when you haven’t even kissed him more than five times in the past two and a half years?

But to think about it, Seokjin really has a great self-control if he really is not having an affair—for the lack of better terms—outside your marriage. Not that it would upset you whatsoever, it’s just not something you’d rather discuss with each other. Both of you agreed it would be okay to do whatever you both want, as long as you’re open to each other—but so far, nothing has implied otherwise. You somehow feel an urgency to talk about it, as you know Seokjin is a healthy man who must have his own needs as well—the one you can’t help with.

After the call ends, Seokjin enters your bedroom at the same time, looking crumpled as ever. The top two buttons on his shirt are undone, face looks beyond exhaustion, and… the fly of his trousers is opened. You are unable to hold a sly smile.

“Are you tired?” You greet, and Seokjin nods, sighing deeply.

“Today was pretty shitty. A client was being a jackass as per usual.” Seokjin throws his bag on the table, taking off his suit. “I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You can sleep first.”

You hum. “Okay. I turned up the water heater, so you can go in now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Seokjin sighs in relief.

“You’re welcome. And Saturday, your father is having a birthday lunch and your mother asked us to come. Do arrange your schedule. And Seokjin?” You ask, and Seokjin looks up to you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

“Your fly is open.”

“Fuck.” He curses and looks down, immediately zipping it close. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. And I swear it was nothing, I may have forgotten to close it in the restroom before going home.”

“It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, anyway.” You heartily giggle in amusement—with lots of subtle meaning behind words—settling back on your side of bed and hearing Seokjin softly closes the door behind him.

It’s already Friday, and somehow you still feel anxious. The day is closing soon, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting your in-laws for a family lunch, yet you are aware it’s not that simple. You have to pretend you have a real, conservative marriage with Seokjin, and it stresses you out. Not because you have to pretend to be in love—you’d rather think you’re relatively good at that, but having to lie to his parent’s face that Seokjin’s dick has ever entered you to get them a grandchild is nauseating.

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” Hoseok chuckles, tapping your shoulder. “It’s Friday night. You should be all smiles.”

“Just meeting a few of my in-laws tomorrow. I’m a bit… nervous. That’s all.”

Jane who is sitting beside you immediately joins in. “Ah, that’s hard. My in-laws are jackasses, hence I’d rather steer clear from any family meetings. Why are you nervous? Are they annoying bastards as well?”

“No, they’re not like that.” You shake your head, confused on how to explain that you are not having a real marriage with Seokjin like most married couples. You’d rather not. “Well, I think I’m just having cold feet. That’s all.”

“You should come with us, then.” Hoseok offers with a whole ass large smile which shows his perfect teeth. “We’re having a drink tonight. No worry, we’re not going all the way to night. Just a slow one. You’ll be fine.”

That’s how you agreed to attend with a few of your peers, notably Hoseok and Jane who are your teammates, Namjoon from Legal, Jungkook from Accounting, and a few other friends you are only on name basis with. It surely started slow, and you gave Seokjin a short call before entering the bar.

“Seokjin, hi. I’m out for drinks with friends, I’ll be a bit late, okay? But not too late though, only for two hours, three hours max.” You smile at Jungkook who is asking you to come. You gesture for him to enter before you. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

“I see. Where are you drinking exactly?” He asks calmly. You quickly mention the name and address of the bar. “Okay. Let me know when you’ll be coming home, I’ll get you.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I think Hoseok or Jungkook can drive me home. No worry.”

“I see. Be safe, okay? And don’t get too hammered, we still have that lunch tomorrow.” Seokjin calmly reminds you. Probably due to the fact that you’re that quick to lose control, and the struggles he had to face on a regular basis to deal with drunk you.

Something inside you stirs at the remembrance of tomorrow’s event, but you quickly shrug it. You’re drinking to forget, anyway. “Of course. See you!”

As it should’ve been easily predicted, you’re really loose with your alcohol control, especially with the great atmosphere and company. With Hoseok and Jane, one drink becomes two, and then four, and then in a blink, you lose count. You really should’ve predicted it, now drunkenly blabbering whatever inside your mind. Yet at once, you stumble on your seat and nearly fall until Jungkook catches you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook checks up on you, staring at your blushing face, eyes hooded like completely feeling the alcohol dancing in your spine. “You look drunk, Y/N. Maybe you should cut the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I think I should.” You sigh, resting the glass back on the table. You rub your forehead. “I shouldn’t be drinking, since tomorrow I’m meeting my in-laws, and it’s.. fucking.. suck! You know why, Jungkook?” Jungkook shakes his head, amusement visible in his eyes while looking at you.

“Because they’ll keep asking about grandchildren.” You scoff. “They’ll keep wanting me to have a child, especially with the fact that Seokjin’s younger brother already has three of those. But how can I say it to them?”

“Why? Is there any reason you don’t want to have kids? Are you waiting?”

You hit the table with your fisted hand, aggrieved. “It’s not that. How can I when.. when.. I haven’t even had sex with my own husband?”

“What?” Jungkook really couldn’t believe his ear. You have been married for more than two years and haven’t had sex with your husband? How is that even possible is beyond him. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Y/N.”

Jungkook looks back at the source of the voice, finding Seokjin’s dark eyes looking at your figure, resting your head on the table. Jungkook immediately lets go of his hand on your skin. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She must be drunk.” Seokjin sighs, circling his hands around your waist. Not that he didn’t expect it, but he feels extremely uncomfortable with the fact that someone else is aware of your little arrangement, especially with it being someone he doesn’t even know besides a name. “I’ll take her now. Here.” He says, slapping a few bills for your drinks.

Not even muttering goodbyes for Jungkook or other drunk people on the table, Seokjin instantly takes you back to his car. A minute of silence he’s staring at your face, Seokjin lightly flicks your head in annoyance before taking off, after ensuring you’re well secured on the passenger side.

“I’m sorry.”

The moment you’re awake, the memory instantly hits you like a truck inside your throbbing head. Constantly shoving drinks up your throat, dancing with Jane and Hoseok, and little talk with Jungkook. You also faintly make out Seokjin’s face getting you from the bar in your memory—right before passing out. God, it’s totally a mess. You really should avoid drinks again at all costs now.

“Are you awake?” Seokjin calmly asks while stirring breakfast on the pan. You nod, standing beside him. “The soup will be ready in a second. You can get our plates.”

Realizing that the talk is about to happen, you silently follow his order and prepare a few of the utensils on the table. You sit down to wait for Seokjin to join, and when he does, you are still waiting for him to open the conversation. In the midst of eating in silence, Seokjin suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you want to have a child?”

Out of shock, you literally choke on your soup, the liquid entered the wrong pipe. Yet even when tapping your back lightly, he still has the nerves to laugh.

“That’s not funny!” You scowl in annoyance, gulping the water Seokjin offered. Your husband is a total jerk, you really should’ve known.

“It is. And I really need to know, since last night you were talking to your friend about our sexless marriage in such a heart wrenching manner I just had to ask.”

You are silenced in guilt with the mention of last night, resting back the glass. “It’s not like that.”

Seokjin cocks his head. “So what is it like?”

“No, I was just stressed about the fact that our families are pressuring us to have a child.” You sigh, never actually telling Seokjin about the pressure on your shoulder. “My mother even once asked me to consult with Obstetricians if my eggs are not working. Why didn’t she doubt your sperm instead?! Annoying.”

“Y/N. You really should’ve told me if my mother and yours has been pressing you to have a child.” Seokjin speaks in good nature, even with a hint of scolding. “I will let her know that it’s our decision, and we’ll have kids whenever we are ready.”

You nod. “Thank you. And I’m very sorry, by the way. Yesterday was a bit much, I know.”

“It’s fine.” He says, tapping the top of your head. “I’ll take a bath first, and we’ll go about an hour. Okay?”

And as predicted, the one that welcomes you and Seokjin even from far is Taehyun, Taehyung’s five years old eldest son. He runs with his two little feet with a light shout of glee until he clings to Seokjin’s thigh. “Auntie! Uncle! Hi!”

“Hi, Taehyun! How are you?!” Seokjin instantly takes him by the waist, bringing him up to his grasp and kisses his lumpy cheek. You are unable to hide a swooned smile. “Are you a smart boy now? Have you made friends in kindergarten?”

“Of course!” He squeals, and proceeds to tell him about his exciting kindergarten stories. You walk in, immediately welcomed by Tasha, Taehyung’s wife in a bear hug. “Sister-in-law! How are you doing? You look great.”

“I’m fine, Tasha, thanks.” You giggle in delight. You have always been close with Tasha, as she is a wonderful woman and a good friend as well. “You look amazing. And god, that hair is exquisite.”

Tasha laughs while sheepishly fixing her hair of light purple highlights. “Got a few dirty looks from my boss and Taehyung’s mother, but it’s all worth it I guess. Who said mother of three can’t rock highlights, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“You two beautiful ladies should come in.” Seokjin’s father beams at the two, gesturing to enter the house. “My wife has already prepared loads and loads of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Happy birthday, father.” You smile, giving the old man a hug. “I hope this year is the best year that brings happiness to your life.”

“Well, a wish that this is not my last year in life is sufficient, but that is well welcomed as well.” He jokes, as the three of you enter the home. “Thanks anyway, Y/N. Greatly appreciated.”

“My granddaughters!” Your mother-in-law literally shouts, kissing you both on the cheek. “You both look amazing. My two sons should be thanking their lucky stars for having you both as a wife.”

“We are, mother. Every night.” Taehyung appears on your side, giving you a side hug of welcome. “How are you, sister-in-law? You’re doing great, right?”

��Amazing, Taehyung. Thank you for asking. I hope you’re well rested while taking care of the lovely miniatures of you.” You look at the three children, Taehyun, the twin Taejin and Taerin playing with their toys in the middle of the living room with your husband.

“The sitter helps, of course.” Taehyung giggles, and Tasha elbows him with a scowl. Your mother quickly wraps the heart warming greetings and guides the whole family to be seated for the lunch prepared. And boy is the dining table packed with countless foods, not even including the dessert on the small table in the corner of the room. You just hope this won’t go to waste.

“No worries, we’ll be packing this as well to have it distributed to neighboring orphanages along with a few other donations.” Seokjin’s mother beams, sensing your worry after looking onto the countless plates.

An hour passes by quickly with the family digging on the delish in front of them. While chatting among themselves, Taehyung and Tasha hand their own gift to his father. “Here it is, father. Happy 65th birthday, hope you are always happy and healthy.” He beams, hugging his father. The large package is heavy on his hand, and your father in law laughs in glee.

It was a beautiful sight, yet you feel terribly uneasy. You haven’t gotten him anything, and Seokjin never discussed this before. How can you forget? God, you’ve really shame yourself and Seokjin in front of his family.

“What is this?” The old man questions and rips the wrapper.

“Open it.” Father quickly opens the package, and sees multiple items neatly stuffed in the box. “Healthy supplements and tea, warm jacket, acupuncture mat, few other things that can help you live longer.” Taehyung grins. The old man rolls his eyes, but nonetheless looks content with the gift.

“Thank you, son! Will put this into a good use.”

Amongst your panic of reaching out to Seokjin beside you, he instead takes turns in handing the gift of his own, an envelope, which catches you by surprise. He never talked about bringing a gift before. “This is from me and Y/N, father. Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” Your father curiously opens the envelope. At once, he literally squeals, unable to hide the delight in his face. “A two way ticket to Japan? Son, this is too much.”

“It’s not. It’s the least we can do for you and mother.” Seokjin says good-naturedly, like the precious son he is. You stare at him strangely. “Y/N and I also arranged a few stops that could be great to improve your health as well. No worries, there will be a guide as you’ll be on tour.”

“Thank you, son!” Your father and mother take turns hugging both you and Seokjin, and you only reply while in a hazen state, don’t know how or what to feel. As long as you know, it all comes from his pocket, and it’s his money to spend. You don’t even know why you feel weirded out. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can you at least pretend my gifts are worthy too?” Taehyung jokes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “The health supplements cost a fortune too, father! You’re being too mean with your reaction.”

“I’m just so happy my two sons are happy with their own family.” The old man beams in delight. “And your mother prepared a gift for you and Seokjin too, Y/N. Darling, you can give it to them, okay? I’m going to the restroom.”

“Why aren’t you giving it to me too?” Taehyung whines to his mother as Tasha elbows him for the nth time already.

“You don’t get one because you don’t need it, Taehyung.”

Seokjin’s mother quickly shoves you a gift with the largest of smiles, and truth to be told, you instantly feel uneasy. A gift in which you need and Taehyung don’t? An easy guess instantly comes to your senses. It must be it. There’s no other way.

“We’ll open this when we get home.” You turn your head to Seokjin, seeing how expressionless he has become. Is he angry? He swiftly takes the gift from you, resting it on the other side of the room.

“Ah, it’s good to. Just be careful using it, okay? It’ll be very helpful with the conception, trust me. It’s been passed down with generations.” Seokjin’s mother winks, looking very satisfied, yet you feel queasy, feeling like you’re soon puking your heart out. On your side, you can detect how silent Taehyung and Tasha have become, and you swear you never felt this pathetic and miserable before.

“Thank.. you.”

Seokjin holds you by the hand with his face is beyond enraged now—yet you know he could never be angry with his parents. He’s a mama's boy, and you like it that he is, but you really feel like going home and crying your heart out. But you have to endure longer hours feeling like total shit with your in-laws around.

“Father, mother, Y/N and I had to go home. I just remember we had stuff to do at home.” Seokjin curtly says, and you whip your head at him in surprise. You mostly did not expect it.

“Why? You don’t really have to do it right now—but if you really have to, it’s okay.” Your mother giggles, content with the idea that you and your husband need to leave because both of you are going to fuck and give them grandchildren. God, your head literally throbs with the misunderstanding.

“Y/N, get to the car.” Seokjin mutters tensely, there is not a hint of emotion beside morse in his tone. “Mom, can we talk?”

“Seokjin, no.” You whisper while tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do it.”

“Y/N, get to the car.” He repeats, like he is not up for any negotiation. You are scared of what he’s going to say to his mother. Is he going to say about the fact that your marriage is faux and is only done to please her? But that’s not what you want, just thinking about it makes you sick. “You can leave the gift here.”

Mildly confused at the sudden tense situation, your mother-in-law silently nods and complies to talk with her son. Against his order, you pick up the gift and move to give Taehyung, Tasha and their three children a parting hug.

“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Tasha worriedly says, and you nod with a strained smile. “Be safe in driving home.”

“We will. Taehyung, thanks.” You hug the pouting guy, as he gives you a squeezing hug of consolation.

“Our parents can be prodding like that. I am very sorry.”

Walking back into the room finding the confusing tense, Seokjin’s father looks at you about to say goodbye. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes. I’m afraid we have something coming up.” You forced a smile, yet you know your father-in-law completely understands the whole situation.

“Okay then. Give this old man a parting hug.” The kind man then hugs you dearly like you’re a daughter he never had. “Thank you for coming. And I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing! Everything is great.” Like an idiot, you still try to lie through your teeth in front of the wise man—it’s ridiculous. “Happy birthday, father.”

Walking inside Seokjin’s car, you patiently wait another ten minutes until he comes in with an unreadable expression. And when he sits beside you, he heave a deep breath.

“Is everything okay? What did you say?” You fret in panic.

“Nothing much. That it’s already tough for both of us now, and we’ll have kids whenever we want to.” Seokjin hums, glancing at the gift his mother gave yet refusing to comment. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t realized this before. I know it must be stressing you out.”

“Not really. I’m just.. tired.” You hollowly laugh, Seokjin slowly taking off the house onto the street. Spending a few minutes staring at the gift secured on your lap, you mutter—more to yourself.

“Do you think we should just have a child?”

At the unexpected question, Seokjin glances at you. Next five minutes are spent in deep silence before...

“Do you love me?”

The questions really create a ripple of shock in your whole body. You literally have no idea whether he’s being serious or not.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want to have a child when both of us know there is no love here. We both don’t love each other.” Seokjin mutters lowly, eyes trained on the road. “Let’s not put more innocent people into misery.”

Misery.

You don’t know why that word hurts more than you thought it would, coming out from Seokjin’s mouth.

As expected, the things between you and Seokjin have become pretty frosty. Sunday morning, he excused himself to go fishing with Yoongi—his best friend of ten years, and you were thankful that you do not have to waste another second in his presence. Being with him is hard enough, not that you have to be reminded of the hurtful things he said.

Misery.

Yes, misery indeed. Having to marry someone you don’t have feelings for.

But you thought he was a friend. Not that you chained him into this, and he was the one asking your hand in loveless marriage. He is being a total jackass. And you never should’ve said such nonsense. Having a child with someone you don’t love? Seriously? Even couples in love can end up in divorce because of kids—much less your ridiculous marriage.

And it sucks that this suffocates your whole being yet you can’t tell anyone, since nobody really knows you don’t have any attachment to your husband.

Well, beside...

“Hello? Is this Y/N?”

Listening to the velvety voice on the other side of the call, you instinctively gulp. Are you seriously going to talk to someone about this, more less Jeon Jungkook? You must be quite desperate. “Hi, Jungkook! I’m sorry to interrupt you. Is this.. an alright time?”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side. “Well, not really, but I can make it alright for you.”

You groan, instantly retracting your own will to talk about it to him. “You seriously did not just flirt with a married woman, right?”

“Of course not! Who do you take I am.” He giggles in mirth, and you roll your eyes. You really made a mistake by calling him. “I’m a bit busy now, but will be free in around… an hour. Do you want to meet?”

“I didn’t exactly say what I wanted to ask for.”

“I just know.” Jungkook hums, and you literally can imagine his annoying smirk on the other side of the call. “I’ll text you the details.”

You spend another seconds in silence, but reply nonetheless. There’s no harm in meeting a friend. Right?

“Sure.”

“So let me get this straight. You—in this advanced, 21st century—agreed to a marriage where the both of you don’t even have little bit of interest in marriage? And all because your parents want you to?”

Now that Jungkook is saying it in front of your face, it does sound foolish.

“Is it.. weird?”

“What the fuck, Y/N. It’s not just weird. It’s crazy.” Jungkook scoffs, feeling the firsthand headache of dealing with the situation you are currently in. “I don’t know how much of a good daughter you are, but this is nuts. You are seriously chaining yourself to a relationship just out of pity, and because of someone else. You know that phrase ‘having only love is not enough in marriage’? You don’t even have that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, quite dejected that Jungkook really has to phrase it like that. The urge to defend yourself rushes unto you. “Yes, I know what we are doing now is silly, but I actually have no regret. Seokjin is a great guy, a good companion as well, and it’s basically just a living arrangement. I’m good.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. “You know, you could’ve been with someone else that you truly love. Did you realize that?”

“I won’t.” You answer almost instantly, doting the cheesecake in the middle of your table. “I’m not interested. I am living well on my own, and I don’t really think I have anyone for me. I am comfortable with myself.”

“And why’d you trade that precious solitude of yours with someone you don’t even love?” Jungkook challenges, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Because if that’s how I can make someone else happy, I would.” You answer, looking back at Jungkook’s prodding eyes. “My mother, my father, have taken care of problematic me since I was a little kid. And now all they wanted is for me to have someone that cares for me, and who I deeply care for. And if getting married is the only way they can live and die happily… I’d do anything.”

Jungkook is easily silenced at your unexpected outburst, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder after saying what you truly feel to someone else. It feels almost relieving, the fog living in your shoulder lightens.

“But you know they’d truly be disappointed if you are lying to them, right? Lying that you are happy. Lying that you love your husband.” He observes you in concern. You smile lopsidedly.

“Well, maybe in my case, a little white lie won’t hurt.” You whisper to yourself, sipping on your beverage.

After hanging out a bit longer with Jungkook, you found yourself comfortable being around him. He is a great guy, albeit annoying and too curious for his own good, he is nice and easy to talk to. You were never really close to him, and usually a rather closed person, but Jungkook is too good at getting you out of your shell.

Walking out from his car, you are stunned when finding Seokjin is also getting out of his own, about to enter your apartment building. He mirrors your expression, a paper bag filled with foods and in his right grasp is his favorite donuts box.

“Hi.” He greets with cocked eyebrows. “I bought meat to cook for dinner.”

“Ah, I already ate dinner.” You guiltily scratch your nape, glancing to the car beside you. Jungkook is just about to drop you off, but you have no idea why he is not leaving yet. “You went home from Yoongi’s?”

“Yes.” Seokjin points to the car. “Who is it? Did you meet with friends?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. But he’s just about to leave—”

“Hi man.” Jungkook is somehow already standing right beside you as you flinch in your spot, and he offers his hand. “I guess I never properly introduced myself. I’m Jungkook, Y/N’s workmate.”

“Ah, Jungkook. We met before, right? I am sorry, yesterday was quite chaotic, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Jin smiles benevolently, shaking the younger man’s hand. “I’m Seokjin, the husband. Do you want to come in? I’m cooking steak for dinner.”

“Nah, I already had dinner with Y/N. But I’ll take you up on that, though. Let’s get dinner another time.” Jungkook agrees, and gives you a light tap in the back as a goodbye. “Got to go, but I’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye, Jungkook.” You reply meekly and turn back to Seokjin, staring back at you with a strange expression. “Are you good?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiles impartially, shifting his expression. “Let’s get in, you’ll catch a cold.”

In a way, Seokjin realizes that something changes with you ever since coming back from his father’s birthday party. You were usually a chirpy, active person, unbothered to speak your mind, talking about Hoseok or your patronizing boss and made the apartment as loud as possible with your late night exercise—yet here you are, silently sitting down on your side of bed, watching your favorite series from phone.

And you clearly stated how you hate watching with your phone that he knows you are avoiding him—not wanting him to join watching it with you in the living room. And what irks him is this passive aggressive thing has been going on since last week, and it’s already Thursday. He desperately needs the old you back.

“Why are you watching it on the phone?” Seokjin asks, a vague irritation slipped in his tone. “The TV is good to watch. And you hate watching it on the phone.”

You are confused to say the least, blinking your eyes at him. Your finger pauses the show. He remembers that? “Uh.. I’m just… feeling like laying in bed while watching. Is there something wrong?”

“No, don’t lie to yourself now. You are clearly avoiding me.” Seokjin hisses, unable to hide anymore of his annoyance. “And this has been going on for a week. You didn’t even let me know if you’re coming home, and rejected that one time I said I’ll get you from the office. What’s wrong?”

“I told you it’s nothing. My work is the opposite direction of your way to home. It’ll be easier to go home directly.” You reason stubbornly, trying to make sense—even if you know you really are avoiding him. You don’t want to let him know that you are hurt by the things he said, and to be frank, looking at him pissess you off a bit. Like right now.

“Y/N, you know that we are too old for this shit. You need to tell me right now if I did something wrong.” He states earnestly. You roll your eyes, not feeling to drag the conversation and position yourself back to watching.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, maybe I’m going on menopause.”

Seokjin huffs, looking at you already settling back to watching—yet he is too determined to end all this bullshit that he discards the phone you’re watching onto the bed. You gape at him, dumbfounded that he really did that to get your serious attention. “Stop being a child and talk to me like adults.” He scowls.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you It’s nothing.” You shout, trying to get your phone back yet missing due to Seokjin’s quick wit of taking and hanging it far above his head. And poor you, that are seriously no match to his height.

“Give me back my phone, you jerk!”

“Might be a jerk but at least I’m not a 30 years old woman having menopause.” He mocks your nonsense, yet you are too resentful to give a shit that you literally climb on bed and jump to leech your whole weight on him like a freaking koala. Seokjin literally yells at your attempt of getting stable by clutching on his hair, pulling it to whichever direction you prefer. “Ah, get off me! It hurts and you’re heavy!”

“I don’t care! You’re being a jerk, and I’m a misery anyway, right? I’m just fulfilling my duties!” You howl, shaking your body that he shrieks, losing his balance and falls on your large bed. And like how most sleazy cringy telenovela, he just had to settle on top of you, but for one teeny different, his whole weight is now crushing your being like a sweet revenge.

“Get off me! You’re heavy.” You screech like a petulant child, punching the guy on his broad ass shoulder. After a whole minute of finally begging him to get off, Seokjin finally gets on his elbow, giving a bit of space for you to breathe.

“I apologize that I upset you.” He gazes at you in all sincerity that literally leaves you holding your breath. “It was not true when I said that misery thing. You are not a misery. You are a blessing. The fact that we are married could be the greatest thing that happens to me, and I’ll never trade it for anything else.”

You are silenced, waiting for him to continue. “I was just pissed off with myself that I was insensitive about how everyone is pressuring you, and you are struggling because of this. I actually never thought about those snarks, and I thought you would too.” Seokjin softly claims, and you are near to tears that he literally speaks like honey. “I just thought it was off limits. I guess we should’ve talked more about this before.”

You sigh, looking down. “I do think so. And I’m sorry too—I guess I should’ve just said what’s bothering my mind.” You breathe out with a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for acting like this. I guess that misery thing just got to me more than I thought it would, and.. yeah. Let’s communicate better.”

“We should.” He hums in delight. “You are cuter when you are less grumpy. You know that?”

“I am cute in any way possible.” You sassily reply, expecting a snarky comment as retaliation yet Seokjin’s lips curl in amusement.

“Well, I can’t comment on that.” He beams, and at that your heart literally skips a beat. or two. or more than you can count. “I want to watch what you’re watching. Let’s watch it on the TV, your eyes must be hurting doing all these grumpy behavior.”

“Yeah, I do think so. It’s like.. exhausting.” You rub your temple. “I hate being crabby.”

“Yes. It doesn’t suit you. At all.” Seokjin pulls both your cheeks in different directions with sparkling eyes. You groan. “So don’t do that to your husband, okay?”

At that, you peer at him silently while he’s searching the series you love on the TV. The way he is able to easily soothe you is.. pissing you off.

“By the way, a new movie is premiering next week and I bought us a ticket. Wanna watch it with me?” He turns to you, still with the same adorable smile. And it literally sucks that something weakens inside you at that smile.

Ugh, there’s gotta be something wrong with you.

Another week goes and there you are, Thursday night about to head out after a whole day of work. Tidying your desk, suddenly a voice stops your wandering mind—it belongs to your desk mate.

“Why are you so happy today? You’re all whistling and it starts creeping me out.” Hoseok snickers, suddenly peering close to you. “Did you get a good dick down yesterday?”

“What the hell, Hoseok?” You groan, closing your laptop with a loud thump. “It’s not it. Can’t a girl just be happy without any reason?”

“No. That means you're crazy. And it’s coming from Y/N, the grumpies person on the planet.” Jane titters, joining your conversation. You started to doubt what kind of connection they had whenever it concerns you. “You must had a good sex yesterday. You know, I am curious on how Seokjin is in bed. Is he a bit dom? Looks a bit kinky, I have to say.”

“Of course! The way he acts is a complete giveaway, he must have a choking kink, or maybe bondage. Daddy kink is absolutely, by default.” Hoseok responds with curiosity. Jane snickers as you are busy gasping for air.

“And his dick?! You know, the first time I saw him, I immediately knew this guy has a big dick energy. I bet his is girthy—”

“Shut up!” You literally stop her from speaking, your palm secured to close on her mouth—yet unable to manage the blush weeping your whole face to neck. You feel hot and bothered. “Stop talking about such things! I am just in a good mood. Ugh, you two are seriously perverts.”

“Yes, okay, we’ll stop before you burst your flaming ear.” Hoseok singsongs, utterly amused by your reaction. You shot him a look. “By the way, tomorrow is a long weekend. Do you both have any plans?”

“Besides taking care of my child? Nah, bro. Might have sex if he’s lucky and stop running his mouth too much. And we had to stay in my husband’s family house. Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes whilst taking her own belongings. “I’m just happy we get to have dinner tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting as fuck.”

“Dinner? What dinner?” You are weirded out, most absolutely did not expect to promise any dinner.

“My birthday dinner, of course!”

You whip your head towards the guy in a fancy red suit, completely looking dashing and silly at the same time. Well, that’s what you expect of him anyway, wearing such eye catching outfit in the middle of workday. “I sent the invites this Monday, and you said yes, Y/N.” He continues. “And you didn’t even congratulate me! How mean. But I’ll let you off since you’re cute.”

“But—but, I can’t! I have something else to do..” You stutter. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at you.

“What? Watching netflix and eating popcorn? Nah, bro. You’re coming.”

“But, I’m serious! I’m sorry, but Seokjin is already downstairs, and he’s waiting for me. I can’t.. just leave him behind.” You weren’t going to say this, but Seokjin said he was craving lobster and asked you to go on a dinner with him. You really didn’t remember you had agreed to an appointment before with your workmate.

Jungkook stares at you in mild surprise. “He’s in the lobby? What happened with the two of you? I thought—”

“What are you saying, Jungkook? Isn’t it normal for a husband to get her wife from work?” Hoseok chuckles, and at once Jungkook is like awakened from his hallucination.

“Yes, of course. My bad.” He nervously chuckles, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “But he should come! It’s only going to be the four of us, and Namjoon. He’s waiting in the lobby too.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a great idea…”

“Seokjin should come! It would be fun, you know. I want to have dinner with him.” Jane smirks, and you sigh loudly, knowing that this would end in a huge disaster and you’ll end up regretting. Yet you find yourself thinking of what to say to Seokjin.

“Hi, Seokjin!”

Seokjin opens his window, smiling courtesy at Jane standing beside you. You remember Seokjin met few of your friends from work before. “Hi, Jane! Nice seeing you again. Are you heading home?”

“Not really. We are going to a restaurant! With Y/N too. You should come.”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Really? You didn’t say you had something to do.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” You frown in guilt. “It’s okay, I know we had plans—”

“No, I didn’t say that. We can come to the dinner with your friends too, if you want.” Seokjin chuckles, smiling dearly at you. You feel your breath hasten under his ministry. “Do you want that?”

Clearing your throat, you answer in nerves. “Yes, please. I promised to attend before, I guess I just forgot and thought I am free tonight.”

“Ah, I guess that’s why you’re all sooo chirpy today, aren’t you, Y/N?! I thought your teeth were about to fall off.” Jane beams, exhilarated as she elbows you. “Turns out you have a special occasion with your husband and forgot Jungkook’s birthday dinner.”

“That’s not it.” You glare at her, but she shrugs meaningfully.

“Okay, you two should head out. I’m with Hoseok.” Jane smiles and points at the blue car which you identify as Hoseok’s. “See you guys in a few minutes!”

“Sure.”

There is only silence in the car, when suddenly Seokjin breaks it with a question.

“Is it for Jungkook? That Jungkook—your friend that we met on our apartment?”

You don’t know what’s wrong, but your gut is telling you something is strange with his tone. You clear your throat of sheer awkwardness. “Yes. Today is his birthday, so he said he’d treat us to dinner.”

Seokjin seems uncomfortable. Living together for nearly two years has made you well aware of his small habit and gestures—by the way he clings on his collar, fingers tightening on the wheel as if he’s scared just shows you how he truly feels. At once, you quickly rests your palm on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Are you okay? You look.. nervous. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Waiting for the red light, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. His right hand settles on your hands which were on his shoulder, linking each finger. “I’m fine.” Seokjin sighs deeply, resting both your linked fingers on his thigh.

“I’m fine.” He repeats.

Now all you can hear is your own irregular heartbeat, with his warm palms against yours.

And you wonder. What the hell is wrong with yourself?

After arriving, Seokjin still doesn’t let your hand go. And it’s all kinds of confusing, two years of marriage he never acts like now. Not even when going to your parents house, and it leaves you with numerous questions. And with that particular look on his face—it scares the shit out of you.

“Ah, here comes the couple!” Jane giggles, pointing to the empty seats beside her. “You can sit here. Seokjin, meet Namjoon! He’s in Legal.”

Like that, all your friends are engaged in a conversation—while Seokjin, he’s sitting silently with heads hanging low. You glance at him, concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yes, your husband looks like he’s not really good. Is there anything wrong?” It is Jungkook, resting his wine back on the table. All of the eyes are now on the both of you. “Does this not work for you?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just a bit on the edge, that’s why. Don’t worry.” Seokjin smiles thinly, tapping his palm on the table. You nod hesitantly, regardless of the strangely tense air with him.

Whilst ordering, you are skimming on the menu when Jungkook jumps in. “Y/N, you like the shrimp here, right? You should order it.”

“Yes, I am thinking that too.” You tap your chin, and turn to Seokjin who is still staring far at the menu. “But I want to try the duck too. Seokjin, can’t you order that too? I don’t want to eat too much, I just want to have a bite.”

Seokjin is about to answer when Jungkook jovially interrupts, “Hey, there’s no need for that. You can order all you want. But if you insist, I’m ordering the duck, so you can have mine.”

“It’s okay, I’m having what my wife asked me to. Since I’m her husband. ” Seokjin curtly responds, and you are flabbergasted at how discourteous he sounded. The conversations on the table ended abruptly.

“I—I see. Suit.. yourself.” Jungkook blinks his eyes, completely bewildered at the hostile response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward.”

You stare at him with multiple emotions rushing inside of you, yet he’s evidently trying to avoid it while shoving drinks down his throat like there’s no tomorrow.

“You’re driving tonight.” Seokjin mutters to you between drinks, and it sounds more like an order to your ear. There’s definitely something off with him, and you’re terrified of finding out. You’re scared if it will change him, you, and what you both had together.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jungkook glances in concern at your drunk husband beside you, his hand is at the top of your car while you’re on the driver side. “He’s drunk. You sure you’re going to be okay? I can come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reply. “I think he’s just not in a mood today. There must be something at work, I’ll try asking this tomorrow.”

“But I don’t like how jealous he was at me. I was just.. trying to be kind and offer to help. As a friend. And he immediately snaps like that.” Jungkook scowls in irritation. “It was borderline obsessive. And it’s not like you married for love—”

“Jungkook.” You stop him with reprimanding eyes that he stops immediately.

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep breath. “I never told you—or anyone about this, but my sister is a divorcee. Because her husband became obsessed with her.” You know where he is heading and are about to rebut, yet he continues. “I know what you want to say, but I’m just saying this so you’d know. They were in love. But you know it could easily turn to something else.”

“Thank you for your advice, but I know it won’t happen to me—Seokjin is not like that.” You mumble, somehow reminding yourself. It’s the first time Seokjin is like this, both of you were great at keeping boundaries, and were not even in love. You’ll be fine.

Jungkook sighs and smiles weakly, brushing the top of your head.

“I hope so too. Get home safe, kid.”

Waking up, the first thing Seokjin feels is his pulsate, a straight pang to his head. It’s been a long time since he had let himself off the limit and trashed himself until he blacked out, and he regrets every single second. The hazy memory starts to invade his mind—about how rude he had been yesterday, especially to you—and it literally freaks him out that he jumps out of his bed, desperate to explain. But you are not sleeping beside him. Or anywhere in the apartment.

“Fuck.” Seokjin hisses, bringing his phone and runs to the elevator in such hurries.

Are you... possibly gone?

“Seokjin, what are you doing here?”

“Y/N. Where have you been?” He questions, a little bit loud. He’s too caught tapping the elevator button that he doesn’t realize the other lift is opened with you walking out, soaking with sweat. “I wake up and you’re not there. You.. I thought you..”

“What did you think? I was just running a few laps since yesterday’s dinner was a bit much.” You shrug nonchalantly, taking off your earphone. “Aren’t you dizzy after waking up? You shouldn’t be out, though.”

Walking back to your apartment, Seokjin is trailing behind you like a disgruntled puppy—keeping his head down low as both his hands are clasped. “I’m very very sorry, Y/N..”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask, pretending nonchalance. Seokjin sits beside you with a frown on his face.

“I was being a jerk yesterday? And I drank too much and you must have a hard time dealing with my sorry ass.”

“Did anything happen? Can I know why you were so pissed off?” You ask carefully, afraid of invading his space. He shrugs.

“Something bothered my mind, that's all. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing how sullen he has been with himself, you are unable to pull both his chubby cheeks to different directions. He groans loudly with each pull. “Yes, you were such a ill-tempered baby yesterday when you were drunk. Do you know that?”

He nods begrudgingly. “Yes, mother. I won’t do it again.”

“But apologizing isn’t going to solve anything. You know it.” You pretend sulk. “I think I deserve three wishes.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows. “Why? Why does it have to be three?”

“Nah, I watched Alladin and it was good, so I was just copying—but that’s not the point!” You tap the table impatiently. “The point is that you embarrassed me in front of my friend and deserves a punishment. Now say yes to my three wishes.”

Your husband groans, tapping on his forehead. “God, I’m never drinking again. What? What is it that you want?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually..” You giggle while scratching your head. Seokjin squint his eyes at you in suspicion. “Can you give me a week to think about it?”

“No.”

“Five days?”

“Right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, by tomorrow!”

“Three wishes all by the end of this day.”

“Fine! You are annoying.” You scowl, tapping your forefinger on your chin. Seokjin grins. “First, I want…lobster for lunch.”

“Okay.” He holds the laughter upon remembering his yesterday’s request.

“And I want this new bag. I saw it on the newest catalogue yesterday, I want one. Buy it for me.” You send him a sugary smile.

“I see your wishes are getting more and more disproportionate.”

You scoff. “But you promised to grant it!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to grant it.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, resting his palm on your shoulder, skimming it until his finger hangs to yours. Your breath hitches at how it practically tickles your whole being. “Is that all? Are you saving one for now?”

“Y-yes.” You stutter, mind already turning blank that you forgot your last wish.

“Good.” Seokjin beams, swiping his thumb on your knuckles. You stare through his eyes, adoring the beautiful twinkle that sends butterflies knocking on your stomach. How could he affect you like this?

W-wait, are you hallucinating or he is really closing in right now? I-is he.. about to kiss you?

Against your expectation, he suddenly halts and snorts. “Now go take a bath, because you stink.”

You push him away, walking to enter your bathroom with a face that has gone vermillion red—especially listening to his annoying squeaky laughter from the living room. You feel terribly embarrassed.

Did you really think he’s about to kiss you? And why the fuck do you have to act like a preteen girl having a crush on a classmate? This is literally super annoying how your body is acting strange—like you don’t even have control.

Ugh, you should never done anything dangerous with him again.

After having lunch in the lobster place, you and Seokjin drive to the cinema for the movie he pre-ordered last week. Sitting side by side with him, you find yourself hesitating.

You want to hold his hand so damn much.

And this never happened to you before. Watching with him always ends up with both of you pretending to fight for the popcorn, and you’ll be far apart from each other—just like you’re watching alone. The movie’s genre is thriller and suspense, yet horror didn’t even take it for you to finally lean into him or anyone, yet that evening, you want to hold him.

Closing in, you feel his shoulder closing on yours, leaning onto him as support. Seokjin looks at you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine, I just—“

“Is this movie boring for you? Or are you cold? You want more popcorn or drink?” He queries in concern at your jumpiness.

“No.” You murmur, embarrassed at your own thought. Fuck, what were you thinking? There is no possible reason at all on why you want to hold him, it’s not making any sense and it irks you on how conflicted you’re feeling. “I just… nothing.”

Glancing at you, Seokjin sees how you’re mouthing to yourself and hitting your own forehead with a deep frown—and he couldn’t bite his smile back. With one fluid motion, he loops his arms with yours and withers your small palm against his, tapping slightly the side of his head with yours.

“Let me know if you need anything else. Hmm?”

You blush hard, the creep of warmth running in your cheek like a wildfire. Clearing your throat, you decide to focus on whatever scene it is, not realizing how Seokjin glances at you from time to time, a toothy smile creeping in his face.

Walking out of the place, you were a bit panicked on seeing Seokjin again in broad light, but he’s still not letting go of your hands around his. You don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not—maybe you’re just afraid of finding out.

“Do you want to go window shopping? Maybe you’ll find that bag you want.” Seokjin offers, you are about to discard him—telling who the hell is still window shopping these days, or your desired bag is already on your online shopping cart, yet you don’t want to say so.

Maybe you just want to be with him a little bit longer.

Walking hand in hand to around the mall, both of you stop at the high end brand stores. Seokjin is about to walk in when you stop him. “Why are we entering this place? This is out of our budget.”

“Who said I want to buy you the bag from here? I want to see it for myself.” Seokjin lightly jokes, blowing raspberries and you scowl. Contrary to what he just said, Seokjin is directing you to the female side, where the tote bags are stacked. You laugh silently. Is he trying to be a tsundere now?

He looks at you and warmly smile. “See if there’s anything you like. I’m going to the restroom first, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him in fake suspicion. “You’re not leaving me here and fleeing home, right?”

“Busted.” He giggles and you grin. “Wait here, I’ll come back in a minute.”

After Seokjin leaves, you find yourself walking to see the bags in hesitance. Yet you know how expensive they are, and it even scares you to fall in love with a bag and realizing how struggling Seokjin has to be to buy it for you. The thought immediately retrains you from taking the tawny colored bag which catches your eyes the most.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You look back at the voice calling your name, and finding the person that hasn't even crossed your mind to be there. It’s Park Jimin, with his trademark eye smile peering curiously at you. “It is you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, a little bit surprised to see him here, even talking to you. Well, maybe the years of your troubling childhood does have its own reminder in the form of this man. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Ah, yes. After moving from Busan to Seoul, I am just living my life, I guess. Got engaged a few years ago, my fiancé and I moved to Sydney for school, and I headed back for the time being for her.” He smiles jovially, letting you know things more than you expect him to. You nod with a hint of hesitation—a bit surprised that he’s still practically the same him from your childhood. Guess nothing really changes to a spoilt kid from birth.

“Honey, I have five items already on the cashier, won’t you—who is this?”

The woman is peering closely at you, the evident staring feels deadly uncomfortable on your skin. You know that look—she is judging you from top to bottom, whether you qualify as someone she should feel competitive with. But you don’t really want to spoil your great mood from the morning and reply nonetheless. “I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She responds rudely, and turns to Jimin. “Aren’t we going after paying?”

“Wait, I still want to talk with her. You can use this.” Jimin opens up his wallet, giving her a card and she leaves almost immediately. “I’m sorry, she can be like that sometimes.”

You shrug nonetheless. “I can see that.”

Ignoring your obvious sarcasm, Jimin continues. “So, where are you going? Do you want to have dinner with us? We should meet up again sometimes, you know—“

“Y/N.”

Turning to the man calling your name, it turns out to be your husband, staring at the both of you with jaw ticked and cold stare. And Jimin is no different, completely startled with the fact that it is Seokjin calling your name. At once, you feel estranged with the tense in the air.

“Seokjin. Hi, this is Jimin, my old friend. Jimin, this is Seokjin, my husband.”

Seokjin is the one to answer, tone blunt. “I know.”

After long pregnant silence, Jimin clears his throat, and gives your husband a thin smile. “Hi Seokjin. Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” You glance at both men with curiosity written in your face.

“Yes, Jimin was my junior in college. We were friends.” Seokjin answers with venom, and nobody can miss the way he pronounced the past tense. Jimin seems uncomfortable as well, trying to ignore the older guy and smiles at you.

“I didn’t know you’re married. When was the wedding? Why wasn’t I invited?” He laughs to discard the tense air, yet you can still sense the awkwardness coloring his tone.

“Ah, around two years ago, I think. My mother gave yours the invitation, but I guess it doesn’t work. It’s fine.” You shrug, keeping your courtesy no matter how much you want to shout what the fuck is going on with those two men.

“I am sorry, but I’ll send a gift your way. It’s very impolite of us.” Jimin offers kindly, but Seokjin cuts straight away.

“We don’t need it. Save your money to whom it belongs.”

You glare at Seokjin who is throwing his sight somewhere else. He never was impolite like this, and it stresses you out—the fact that you’re kept in the dark makes you feel like you’re basically second to nothing between the two of them.

“Seokjin? Is that you?”

Jimin’s fiancé comes back with countless bags in her hand, and you can hear the loud enough snicker from Seokjin. “Ah, as expected.”

The girl looks surprised, to say the least. “What are you doing here? With her? Who is this girl?”

At the condescending tone, you immediately turn defensive. She had no reason to talk to you and Seokjin like that. “Excuse me?”

“Baby, don’t be like that. Y/N here is Seokjin’s wife.” Jimin murmurs softly to his fiancé, and the bitch still has the nerves to scoff with a sleazy smirk.

“Ah, finally. I am glad you finally got your shit together, stopped thinking about me and moved on.” She loops her hand around Jimin, rising her chin high. Your jaws are a second away from falling to the ground. What the hell is going on?! “And are you sure you can go here? Isn’t this too expensive for you?”

“What the fuck—”

You are ready to throw hands, but Jimin quickly pulls her away and so is Seokjin’s hands clasped on yours to hold you back.

“Stop it. Let’s just go home.”

Hanging his head low, both of you walk to the parking lot in deafening silence. Seokjin’s face is now cloudy and dark, nose and eyes are turned red and you know he is this close to crying. You chest stings at how much in pain he seems. You have so many questions, yet you know he needs more time to figure out his own.

Trying to reach the car keys from his pocket, he can’t seem to find it and somehow ends up choking his own tears. Feeling terrible on how he must feel, you go to his side, helping him check his other pocket. “I’ll drive.” You softly say to him after, and he silently goes to the passenger side.

Night comes, and you stare at your bedroom door. Seokjin has been holed up inside the room after you both went home, and did not come out even for a drink. You knew he needed space, and you stayed in the living room to watch your series, but it’s been too long that you are on alert since this has never quite happened before.

You wake up from your seat, walking to the kitchen as you are about to prepare dinner. Mushing up your doubtful cooking skill, you cook a chicken pasta and union ring, even called his favorite donuts on delivery.

After all the food is ready, you knock on the door. “Seokjin, dinner is ready. Come out, will you?”

“I am not really hungry.” He answers softly, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t kid me, we both know you are never not hungry.” Your joke is met with no response. “Are you really going to be like this? Come out and let’s have dinner. I already cooked for us.”

A moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

You scowl, albeit kind of relieved that his sarcasm is still in place. “It’s not, but I’m still going to shove it down your throat until you’re begging me to stop.”

Seokjin ends up coming out, and you immediately frown at him. His face is disheveled, eyes bloodshot red, trail of tears on both his cheek and his hair is all over the place.

“Hey, you look ugly.”

He scoffs. “Thank you for the encouragement.”

“I am serious! You look uglier than that time we went to Bali and you shit yourself because of eating too much spices.” You giggle, and Seokjin hisses. Your way of consoling people is indeed very debatable.

“I remembered Bali. Such a great time.” Regardless, Seokjin smiles fondly at the memory. It was for your honeymoon slash not really a honeymoon, since all you did was to spend your work’s wedding free leave. You and Seokjin registered for Bali’s backpacker packet where both of you were able to explore the true nature and culture of Bali, instead of staying in a five star hotel and fucking till dawn like most honeymoon. It was breathtaking, to say the least.

After settling on the dining table, you scoop a portion and hand it to him. “Eat. I also ordered your favorite donuts, it will be here in a few minutes.”

Seokjin gives you a thankful smile, acknowledging your effort to make him feel better.

After a whole half an hour of eating in silence, you open a conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks to you, and lower his sight back to his plate. “This is good.”

You sigh, folding your hands on the table. Seokjin might feel uncomfortable and you understand he needs time, but you also know that he needs to share it with someone else, or the feeling will drown him instead. “You know, there is no good keeping it inside.” You breath out. “I want to know what happened with you.”

A few minutes of silence. “How do you know Jimin?” He asks instead.

“He was my childhood friend in Busan, before his father hit it big and they moved to Seoul. We used to play together. He was a classmate, and my only friend at that time.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrow. “Only that? Why does it seem like it’s not just friends? Like he really is glad to see you.”

You shrug. “Yeah, it was.. kind of weird. You know how kids were. We were really close, and I kind of confessed… that I liked him before he went away.”

A particular hit on the plate causes you to flinch, a deep frown on Seokjin’s supple lips. “But it was in the past, right?” He confirms with no hint of playing, and you feel something settle strangely in your chest.

Is it possible that he is jealous?

You chase the thoughts away and curtly reply. “Of course. I was 10 for god’s sake, I didn’t even really like him.”

“I don’t even know why you like the guy. Was Busan really lacking in handsome boys?” Seokjin grumbles, munching soundly on the onion ring. “You should have seen me when I was a kid, I bet you’ll like me instead. I've been handsome since I was even a baby.”

“I’ve seen your schoolbook photo, but I’ll just go with whatever you say.” You giggle on his nonsense—even though he’s clearly not lying. He’s probably the most handsome person you’ve laid your eyes upon, that it was quite surprising he didn’t decide to fuckboy himself and settle down with you instead.

Ten minutes pass in silence before you continue. “Can I say my last wish?” You ask carefully. Seokjin nods, a bit uncertain.

“Tell me what happened? With Jimin. And his fiancé too.” You hum, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just wanted to know, but it is okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Seokjin sighs, rests his utensils and drinks the water before continuing. “It’s just.. hard. His wife, Dakyung was actually my girlfriend for a long time. We’ve been together since high school. At that time, she wasn’t really well off—his parents are struggling financially, but I was more than glad to support her getting the money to support her family.”

“We were together for like eleven years, I guess? I loved her very much, we’ve been through nearly everything and stood strong. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I only wanted her. Being with anyone else never crossed my mind.” He softly explains, yet you don’t know why you feel yourself constricting with every word. It’s hurting you to see how pained he was, the beautifully carved words meant for someone else. “So around four years ago, I think? I bought an engagement ring for her. I was going to propose—but I guess you know the rest.”

“Did she.. cheat on you?” You ask carefully. Seokjin stares at you and nods, sadness written all over his face.

“I just found out when I was going to surprise her in her apartment. She… was in bed with.. Jimin.”

“What?!” You shouts in disbelief. “Jimin, your college friend fucked your girlfriend of eleven years?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what happened too, but at that time what I remembered was Jimin pleading for her to break up with me, and she said yes, asking for him to wait for the right time. But who am I kidding? It was a good choice at her part. Jimin is crazy rich, handsome and good too. Anything a girl wants, right?”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” You mutter, resting your palm over his as a consolation. “Money is not everything, and she’s trading that for eleven years of happiness with you. It’s her loss.”

“Maybe it’s not, Y/N. At that time, I realized that maybe it was indeed my fault. I, like a fucking fool, still wanted to be better for her. Even after I knew she was cheating on me, I tried holding on to her, so the next day I asked her to meet me and still proposed. I would do anything to make her happy. And as expected, she rejected me.”

“Seokjin…” You whisper, a tear welling on the corner of your eyes on how broken he must have felt.

“She immediately eloped with Jimin, and both moved to Sydney for school. But I guess in a way, I’ve never moved on. I was always trying to contact her, sending her emails or messages until she had enough and blocked me. I was depressed. The one that I loved for eleven years, left me just like that.”

Seokjin stares at you, meaningfully. And you’re about to hear something that breaks your whole being.

“And then, I just knew I’d never love again.”

You don’t know what happened with you—and Seokjin, but in a way you’ve been distancing yourself from him, and the gesture is mutual. Seokjin never came home early, and not that you ask him anymore. He always came home whenever you were already asleep, and when you wake up, he’d be gone. Even with the current withdrawal, you still find breakfast on the table, courtesy of him. Yet you’d rather he not.

I just knew I’d never love again.

It hurts. It hurts like hell when he really said that he’ll never love again. In a way, you know you’ve been feeling something for your husband—that you crave for his attention and care, and to know that he might never reciprocate the way you want him to. Hurts like a bitch.

But it’s all on you. It is clear as crystal that love is not even the foundation of your marriage, so if anything happens to your foolish heart, it’s all on you. You shouldn’t have taken this lightly. You should’ve known that you are weak at heart, and you’ll fall for him anyway.

Because he is the greatest guy you have ever met.

The compassion, kindness and caring that he has, it’s beyond comprehension. You don’t know how someone can be so understanding like he is, the way he takes care of you and wants nothing in return, that sincerely wants the best for you—even without love—succeeds in making you fall head over heels for him.

God, you really are a fool.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look to your left, seeing Hoseok scrutinizing at you in worry, now Jane is already beside him. “You’ve been whimpering since morning, and now you’re crying. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing, I am sorry for disturbing you all.” You swipe your tear stained cheeks, standing from your seat. “I’m getting some air, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

Half-running, you enter the elevator and swiftly exit the building, trying to breathe as clear as you could—no matter how it might hurt you. God, you hate being vulnerable. You hate being weak. You hate being in love—an unrequited one, at that. Why can’t you just put your heart together? Why do you have to like him now, after two years of not caring whether he even fucked someone else behind your back?

A whisper in your mind tells you that probably, these two years have been too great with him. Maybe, because he never gave you space for doubt. Maybe, you are already dependent on him without you knowing. Maybe, you take your feelings for granted.

“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Someone stares at you in shock, and turns out it is Jungkook. His arm is around your shoulder. “I just finished a meeting and wanted to get coffee and found you here instead. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Is it weird that I felt sad because I finally—finally have feelings for my husband? Like… this supposed to happen before marriage, right?”

“Oh, Y/N..” Jungkook sighs. “What happened?”

And like that, you fill him in on what happened between you and Seokjin, and it leaves him furrowing his eyebrows. “So.. you telling me that you think Seokjin still couldn’t forget his ex?”

You process his sentence for a while, and reply with a hesitant nod. Jungkook exhales loudly. “That’s not it, Y/N. I don’t think he’s still in love with his ex, he is... just scared. He is scared of the pain of his past, and he is scared of opening up to someone. Just like you. And with the way you are acting right now, it’s not fixing anything you both are feeling right now.”

“But he said he’ll never love again..”

“I couldn’t believe you even believe that bullshit.” Jungkook frowns. “That girl betrayed him. She gave him literally a thousand reasons to move on. He just needs time to adjust, and a couple of facts slapped to his face. He’ll come around.”

“Do… do you think I should.. talk to him about this?”

“No. You can just shut up and hope he can read your mind.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, heavily sarcastic. “Talk to him, Y/N. You trust him, right?”

“I do.” You whisper to yourself, strangely motivated. “I do trust him.”

Well, it turns out trust is not a really firm base for confronting your own husband to the mess you made. After you called Seokjin to pick you up after work to get dinner together, he was visibly surprised at your request since you’re usually not the type to begin conversation after a fight—you never even asked to be picked up before. You yourself don’t even know whether it would be a good idea, but Seokjin’s easy agreement does make it better.

When you enter the car, he is the first to greet with a warm smile, and it reminds you that you haven’t seen it for so long now—you might even miss it. “Hey.”

“Hi, Seokjin.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for picking me up. I’m just.. feeling a bit out of it to take the train. I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I told you a million times I’ll pick you up if you can, you’re the one who rejected me.” He giggles lightly, glancing at you. “Thank you too.”

“For what?”

“For reaching out? I know past week we’ve been.. kinda avoiding each other. I didn’t know how to.. start since I was the problem in the first place.” He scratches his nape in shame. “I am very sorry, by the way. It was very immature of me.”

“No, it’s not. I totally understand.” You respond quickly. “And I didn’t know what happened, I have no rights to judge. It was your pain, and I am just glad you want to share it with me.”

Unexpectedly, Seokjin chuckles. “Why are you so sweet today.”

“Let me know if you want my sass back, I’ll gladly serve it to you.” You retaliate, even your inside are churning with nerves.

“You know I accepted you for who you are—you can be anything you want.” Seokjin brushes the top of your head with a toothy grin that leaves you a breathy mess.

“You are so cheesy today.” You respond briskly, noticing that you have arrived at the designated restaurant. Seokjin parks the car swiftly, and when there’s only silence inside, he turns on the lights on top of him.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Look at the backseat.”

You glance at the backseat, finding an oak brown bag that somehow feels familiar. You quickly pick it up and open it. Turns out it is the exact beautiful brown bag that has catched your eyes from your previous window shopping session—before Jimin comes into the picture. You squeal in delight. “What is this?! Are you seriously giving this to me?”

“No, I’m giving it to Grandma Lee, our neighbor. Who else?” He smirks and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before adoring your bag once more.

“This is very pretty, though. How could you know which one I liked?”

“Well, let’s just say I know you better than you think? I practically know what you liked. This one greatly matches your outfits too. You know I have a great fashion sense.” He winks.

“I’ll let your last sentence pass because I’m very touched right now. Thank you, Seokjin.” You beam in joy, adoring the bag.

Seokjin nods, and when you rest the bag carefully on the backseat, he suddenly pulls you close for a hug—his arms around your waist, your chin settles on his shoulder. His spontaneity literally leaves you breathless, the heat is blooming around your cheek at the close proximity. God, you wish he couldn’t hear your drumming heartbeat.

“Thank you for being such a great friend and partner. I’m so thankful we are married, you know?”

You grimace in pain. God, the sound of your heart breaking is really audible in your ear. Oh, how you wish he had known.

And in the end, you are the loser in this game you played with yourself, because you most absolutely didn’t say a thing, yet you’re enjoying every second of being in love by yourself, making up scenarios and wondering if he feels the way you do.

It is ridiculous how greatly it has been played—considering how caring he usually is, yet it’s not even rare for him to say that you’re different in a way. He never explained in detail, but even you know what’s different. You started calling him frequently between work, asking when he’ll be home, his opinion on little things, or if he wanted to eat anything. It’s the small things that you’re hoping he’ll catch, yet it seems like something trivial for him and it lowkey upsets you.

One evening, you’re already waiting for him in the apartment, determined to finally tell him about what you feel—that you love him and hope he feels the same way. Jungkook was right—you can’t lounge around waiting for him. There’s no shame in starting first, especially when knowing it’s him you’re falling in love with.

Yet the clock strikes nine, he has not arrived yet. The food you prepared since six has already turned cold, and you start to feel wary, glancing nervously at the door—since he said he’ll be home around eight and is already late by an hour. You already tried calling him, but it is met with no response. His phone is on and well, yet he’s not replying. So you wait while watching the news.

Car crash. A man. Blue toyota. On the road of his way back home. You immediately reach for your phone, calling his number in panic.

Could it be?

It’s already midnight when Seokjin opens his apartment door, expecting darkness—but instead he finds you sleeping on the couch, phone clutched on your chest. He closes in, a thin smile formed on his lips as his fingers soothes the creases of your crouching eyebrows, but it somehow sends you flinching on your spot. You are now wide awake.

“Seokjin, when are you home?” You demand, as his pupils dilate of confusion.

“I just arrived. Sorry, I was—”

“I thought you died, you moron!” You shouts immediately. “Car crash news was on, man driving a blue toyota. I was so scared it was you that I even called the police, yet they said the victim is still in the hospital, I couldn’t know the identity. I was so scared...” You don’t even know why you’re tearing up right now—but the emotion is overwhelming, you must be talking nonsense.

Seokjin blinks, confused. “I’m sorry, I left my phone on mute. I forgot to let you know...”

You don’t even want to hear the rest, as you quickly storm off to your bed and force yourself to sleep, muffling your cries. The feeling you had for the last few hours, the horror of thinking Seokjin might be laid in blood on the street is something you’d rather not experience now or ever.

In a few minutes, you feel the bed dips beside you. Seokjin is there.

“Are you still awake?” He softly asks, but you decide to ignore him and closes your eyes.

“I am very sorry. I didn’t know… this would happen. But I should’ve let you know.”

You clearly know what he refers to. You usually don’t give a shit if he’d even come in dawn, but now you’re crying and throwing a fit when it’s not even something to fuss about. It’s only you and your overreacting fear.

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?” He whispers as he tucked the blanket closer to you, stroking the top of your head carefully.

The next morning, you wake up to the delicious smell of baked cheese. Unable to hold your scoff, you decided to stay a little bit on bed just to pisses him off. Frankly, you are still slightly vengeful for last night, with this urge to let him know your annoyance has not worn off.

So when he walks in and softly taps your shoulder, you are silent. “Hey. It’s already seven, you need to take a shower and come eat breakfast, hmm?” He persuades, but you turn your back to him, and Seokjin huffs at your petty acts, yet the guilt is still seeping in his chest.

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you know work is unexpectedly late. I don’t want to make excuses, as I know it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.”

At the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly washes off, but still you’re doubtful on how to answer his apology. Should you just say yes? Or should you pretend anger?

“Hey, look at me.” Seokjin impatiently pulls you to face him, both his palms are on the sides of you. His eyes bore into yours, and you instantly turn stiff with his face so close.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m very, very sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll do my best in letting you know if something came up at work and not make you worry anymore.”

“I like you.”

You wonder whose word that is, but it turns out to be you. It’s literally you who said those three words that you have been practicing since last night. You didn’t even know why it’s coming out right now, it’s just the way he looks at you right now—it’s the first thing you want him to know.

“What?” He looks mildly bewildered.

“I like you, Seokjin. I… I don’t know when or how, but I really, really like you.” You confess. You finally confess, yet the way Seokjin looks immediately puts you in horror. That’s absolutely not the look you expected from him.

He laughs with sheer awkwardness. “Of course, we are married. You know I like you too, Y/N.” Yet you know he meant differently.

You know everything will go south the moment you try to say what you truly meant, yet you don’t want to lie anymore. You are tired of hiding what you’re feeling. “I am serious. I like you, in that way. I might even love you. The past two years, we’ve been with each other and I seriously couldn’t be happier with what we both had. I know this is not what we both planned—”

“It’s most absolutely not.” He cuts, distancing himself from you, face filled with panic.

“—but I want you to know. I want to try this, Seokjin. I know you might need some time, and what I feel might be one-sided, but I want you to know and try this. With me.”

A moment of silence to tense that you can slice it to choke yourself—when it’s only you and him who is avoiding your gaze. He then scoots off the bed, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“I… I’m gonna go. You should finish your breakfast.”

And then he left.

The misery doesn’t end there. You never felt someone could be so physically close yet so far away like what he’s putting between the two of you right now. For a straight week he literally never came home earlier than nine, and when he did, he’d sleep on the couch. And fuck did it hurt to sleep knowing he is out of your reach. You never know love could hurt like this—maybe you trusted him too much with your heart.

Saturday, you left a note that you’ll be off to your parents house for the weekend, and even then Seokjin didn’t contact you. And coming back home, your parents fortunately didn’t fuss as much, maybe since you just said you needed time away from him.

The night comes, you are lounging in your room when your phone rings. At once you quickly jump to retrieve it, frown when seeing its a social media notification instead.

From : @pjmin

Hi, Y/N, this is Jimin! Hope you are doing well :) [21:29]

I know this is a bit hurried, but if possible, are you up to meet for coffee tomorrow? [21:29]

It’s okay if you can’t, just want to talk and catch up while I’m in town [21:30]

Let me know! [21:31]

Albeit doubtful, you are indeed curious about what he wants to talk about, knowing it must have something to do with Seokjin. Unable to hold your curiosity, you agree to a time and place with him.

Tomorrow, you walk into the agreed coffee shop, finding Jimin already seated, sipping on his beverages. You carefully pay attention to him, and notice he indeed has changed so much from that average kid you met when you were kids. Well, not that you have any rights to comment though.

“Hi.” He greets with a smile after you are seated in front of him. “I ordered you something. Hope you’re okay with caramel frappucino. You still like sweets?”

“Ah, I’m fine with anything. Thanks. And yes, I still like them. Kinda surprised you still remember, though.” You joke. Jimin lips curls.

“Well, the memory of a kid eating four cotton candy in one sitting until she passed out from high blood sugar is not really something one could forget.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. Well, your childhood is indeed not a pretty one. “It was rather traumatizing, I could say.”

After a moment of catching up on how he’s currently doing right now, you mindlessly ask him. “So, where is your fiancé? I thought she’ll be with us here.”

Jimin instantly dims at the mention. “Uh… We broke up.”

You stop your movement and gape at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say once a cheater is always a cheater?” Jimin stares down at his drinks. “Not in that way, though. In the beginning, my family never really liked her, that’s why I’ve been holding off from marriage—no matter how much she pleaded to. We actually came back to get married, and get blessings. And just yesterday, my father sent me a whole report of her financial statement, slush funds, and everything. Well, there’s just too much thing she’s hiding behind my back.”

“Jimin…” You mutter, feeling bad for the guy. But still, you are unable to scoff at how blinded he has been. The girl is no doubt is using him for his money—and he just realized it now?

“I know what you’re thinking. I must be a damn fool to just realize it now.” He humorlessly laughs, correctly reading your mind. “But maybe I was hoping she’ll one day change. I must be a total dumbass.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.” You had enough of holding back, and it surprises Jimin with your forwardness. You grin regardless. “But that’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, right? We just gotta live with it.”

“Yeah.” He agrees with a saddened smile. ��I know it doesn’t quite make sense telling this to Seokjin’s wife, but… I don’t know. I want you to know that I regretted it. I really shouldn’t have done that—cheating behind his back. Maybe this is karma, anyway. I deserved this.”

You sigh. “You know that you shouldn’t be saying that to me, right? You should tell it straight to Seokjin.”

Jimin sighs, like it has been bugging his mind for a long time now. “But of course he wouldn’t want to see me. And I have a flight tonight, back to Sydney, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, maybe an apology had to wait, then.” You shrug, and Jimin frowns. “You were his friend, Jimin. And I know if I were him, I’d want it coming from you.”

“I guess so. You were right.” He exhales loudly. “Thank you for that too. And agreeing to meet me. I’m really glad we talked. And don’t forget to stay in contact, okay?”

You hum with a wide smile. “Thank you too, Jimin.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought this for your wedding present.” Jimin crouches, retrieving a gift box as he displays a sincere beam. “I don’t know if Seokjin would like that I’m giving you this, but, yeah. I am very glad that you’re together. You guys seriously could be the best couple I know.”

You fiddly laugh when reminded of the current turmoil of your marriage. Well, he's better off not knowing, though. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you for this.”

Well, you do hope that whatever Jimin’s gift is, Seokjin is still there to use them.

Sunday, you spend lounging on your bed, staring at the gift from Jimin, opened and stacked on your desk. You are still unable to comprehend his thoughtfulness. He gave you a couple bathrobe, a bottle of expensive Bordeaux Wine with two antique wine glasses. You messaged him thank you, and Jimin only sent a wink emoticon as an answer.

And then you are reminded of Seokjin’s scar. What happened with his ex, it was because he was too kind. He was too trustful, and it hurt to let go of someone you’ve been with for nearly half of your life and betrayed you like that. He is really the kindest soul out there—and then you realize that you missed him dearly. You wonder what he might be doing right now. Is he just as distraught as you are? Is he thinking about you as well?

In the middle of your wandering thoughts, your phone abruptly chimes. Finding an unknown number in the other line, you answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N. This is Yoongi, Seokjin’s friend.”

It’s been a long time since you heard from him and you rise to sit, mildly perturbed. “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Apologize if I’m too forward, I know there’s a bit of problem at bay, but I know Seokjin’s dying to talk to you, and has been stressing about it since god-knows-when. He’s in my apartment now, can you… get him? Lounging in my apartment drinking is not going to solve anything.” He huffs lightly, and you sigh in distress.

“I know. But I am now in my parents house. Do you think.. I should just come?”

An evil laugh is heard on the other end. “No, that’s unnecessary. I know what’s even better that will help with this whole thing.”

Closing his call in daze, you are still waiting for the plan—but not even an hour in, a rushed knock is already heard from your front door. In a blink, Seokjin is on your bedroom door, carefully opening it.

“Y/N?” He softly calls your name. “Are you… okay?”

Well, the scared look on his face does make you kind of guilty. Yoongi must have told him lies that you’re sick, and then he didn’t even spend another second and went straight to you. You have no idea what to feel, decide to hide yourself under your blanket.

“Hey, look at me.” He rushes, tapping the side of your arm carefully, but you are still unbudging. Impatiently, he effortlessly tugs the blanket off of you, until you are looking at him with a frown in your face. He rests his palm on your forehead, to your neck, baffled. “Are you sick? Yoongi told me you have high fever.”

“Well, I think Yoongi lied because he wanted to chase you out of his apartment.” You scowl, turning your face with a hint of blush on your face. You never know seeing him again could be this difficult. “I heard you’ve been a parasite to him.” You tease, slightly smiling.

“Yoongi, that disrespectful shithead.” Seokjin hisses under his breath, but it’s obvious that he is avoiding your eyes. He straightens and clears his throat. “Okay then. I think… I should go home. Are you going to stay here?”

“Seokjin…” You call, holding on his wrist from leaving. “Are you angry at me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I am not angry at you.”

“But you are avoiding me. And we don’t even talk anymore. This is not how we used to handle problems. What’s wrong?” You persist, determined to end this cold war with him.

Seokjin sighs. “I am just… scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I am scared of disappointing you.” He is visibly downcasted. “I know what you meant, Y/N. But I also know that I can’t be… what you want me to be. I can’t seem to forget... her. I don’t want to hurt you, or myself. And I know It’s difficult, and I don’t want to put you into that pain. It’s better this way.”

“I never pressured you into anything.” You reply, your voice started shaking. “I just want you to know, and try this with me. And you know holding onto something that has hurt you is not going to work, Seokjin. Please, please stop hurting yourself and try this. With me.”

“I-I can’t.” He hurriedly mutters, intending to walk out before you hold him back, crushing yourself into his arms, your tears burst into loud sobs.

For a good ten minutes, you spend it crying on his arms, tears wetting his white shirt. You don’t know what you feel—you’re dejected, sad, disappointed, angry, too many emotions that overwhelms your whole being but can only come in tears when he’s around. “Seokjin, I like you. Why can’t you give us a chance? Are you… that disgusted with me?”

At the self depreciating cries, he quickly looks down, both palms are on either side of your face. “Don’t be like that. I adore you so much, Y/N. Don’t hurt yourself because of me.”

“There’s no way I can’t be sad if you’re still hurting yourself. I just want you to be happy—with me. Is that so hard?” You weep, hiding yourself back to his chest. “I hate this. You know how much I hate crying.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cried that much.” He scolds, stroking your scalp like he usually does—and you slightly feel comforted at his familiar gesture.

After another ten minutes just hugging it out, he finally leans into you resting his head on top of yours, taking a deep breath of nerves.

“Okay. Let’s try then. But please be patient with me, hmm? I’ll try my hardest for us.”

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He shuffles in his sleep, but is unmoving. You frown, and call him one more time yet still met with no response. Huffing, you scoot closer to him, and clasp his nose to hamper him from breathing. At your disturbance he groans, finally opening his eyes. “Why are you waking me up now… This is still dawn.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have started getting back into gaming now. This is already half past seven, mister. Take a shower before you’re late.” You remind him, and as expected he already has two feet on the ground, running to the shower.

And as a kind and dutiful wife, you help him by preparing his outfits. You chose a nice blue themed suit this time, paired with a nice tie you bought him a few months back. Walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, you are unable to hold your eyes from straying low. Damn, he really be packing like that, huh?

“What are you looking at, huh?” Seokjin squints his eyes at you, taking the prepared clothes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a whole snack, but I’m not a sexual object.” He jokes while wiggling eyebrows, and you scoff loudly when you can’t find a sassy reply for him.

You decide to wait in the living room, trying to calm your heartbeat. God, you’re such a loser, now even his bare chest can stupefy you like that.

Regardless, you're more than content with the current relation with you and Seokjin. Both you definitely have gotten better, a bit more identical to wife and husband—even if it's probably only for you. You are trying your hardest for him, and when you know he can’t instantly fall at your feet and love you the way you do, you are satisfied. At least he’s not pushing you away.

“I’m a bit late for breakfast, but thank you for this.” He whispers, pointing to the pack of food you prepared for him. Noticing what’s missing, you pick the tie from his grasp, and circle around his neck and putting it on for him. He visibly stiffen on your arms.

After finished, you brush his suit’s shoulder and take a step back with a smile. “Let me know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and softly smiles. “See you.”

And then, he leaves a tender peck on your left cheek and exits the room.

You literally can’t stop smiling the whole day.

One thing that you never really told anyone, is that you never had true sex. Like you had it once or twice in high school, but those annoying jerks never let you even finish and all you were left was disappointment. During college, you were too ambitious for your studies, so the thought of sleeping around was not on your agenda, and you never really believed in love or relationships. So when the thought of sex enters your mind this morning, it was quite frightening.

Having your lunch with only Jungkook, you decided to tell him your concern. He is quite shocked to say the least. “What the—you want to have sex with him? Finally?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You exhale, pushing away your food in disinterest. “This few days we are making progress. So I don’t know—isn’t sex always the solution? I thought it would do some good for us.”

“Well, it’s indeed a solution for most problems, I would say.” He giggles between words, and you roll your eyes in disgust. “But I don’t know about Seokjin. I must say—the man really has outstanding self control. Sleeping on one bed with a woman for two straight years and still hasn’t initiated sex? Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been sleeping around before.”

The thought immediately darkens your whole mood, and Jungkook realizes his slips. “—or, he’s just a good masturbator? Nobody knows, Y/N, especially not me. Ha ha ha.” He nervously chuckles, sipping his drinks. “And the minority of men are not that much of an sex-fueled animal. He must be good at keeping his hands to himself, and please don’t mind what I said.”

What Jungkook said might be haunting you a bit that you request to get home early—when instead you’re going to the mall for shopping. You went straight to the ladies side where all kinds of bras or lingerie is available, but you literally have no clue what’s useful for your case. Already desperate, you finally call Jane for advice, discarding the huge probability of damage that you’ll be teased or ridiculed.

“Oh my god! That’s very fun. I still can’t believe you lied to the boss because you’re preparing to bone your husband tonight.” Jane cackles, truly amused. “God, I miss those alone times with my husband. Don’t have kids too soon, Y/N. Be happy with your husband.”

“Stop rambling and help me pick!” You hiss, realizing a few stares has caught on you. She giggles, and then proceeds to help you pack home a black lacy three piece lingerie that will instantly shock your mother if she ever sees—which she said would ‘even spice up a fifty years old marriage’.

You don’t even know how that’s possible, or why you even asked her for advice in the first place.

Waiting for your train home, you hold your shopping bag close to your chest, slightly embarrassed. You don’t know what you should do then—should you just wear it and surprise him in the living room when he comes home? Or lay in your bed while trying to tease him? How does that actually work?

In front of your apartment, suddenly a call arrives. Seokjin. “Hey, Y/N. Work is a bit much today, I think I’ll be late. Will be home around nine, maybe. But can you wait for me? I forgot to bring my keys.”

Agreeing mindlessly, you sigh after ending the call, looking to the bag on your grasp. You really had a bad feeling about this.

It’s quarter to nine, Seokjin is already on the way home and you are already all cleaned up. You started with a good, long warm shower and shaves, curled your hair, and put up a light makeup. You even tried watching porn for learning purposes—but instantly grossed out after a few failed attempts at finding a good one. Well, maybe you should just kiss him and not say or do a thing you’ll regret.

Jungkook was right, though. There’s no way Seokjin can handle two long years without sleeping around. Yet even the thoughts of him sleeping with other girls leaves you qualmish. In the middle of your busy thoughts, the bell suddenly rings at the door.

“Y/N? Are you there? Can you please open this?”

Walking with your heels on, your head is in haze at the thoughts of him seeing you like this. God, you start having second thoughts. Should you just run inside and change your clothes? But the remembrance of the price of this lingerie instantly blanches you. You’d rather be shamed in front of your husband than wasting his much money for nothing.

“Good ev—what is this?”

Seokjin looks at you, visibly flabbergasted at your unexpected fit. Not even once that he would think you would wear something like this, especially for him—and now your face is already beet red. You are far too shy to do or initiate anything.

“Are you okay? What are you—”

Before he can say other things that will embarrass you even more, you quickly crash your lips to his, kissing it frantically while trying to make it as pleasurable as possible. Seokjin instantly gasps, his bag falling to the floor beside him. His hands rest on your back while you are focusing to make it as good as it can get for him.

You bite his lips for entrance, and as he moans you slips your tongue inside, tasting the sweet beverages he just drank. At one point, he finally responds—kissing you back with tenderness instead that helps manage a pace that won’t leave you breathless.

Few more minutes of tasting his lips against yours, Seokjin finally lets you go, and unexpectedly laughs. Realizing how foolish you must have been for him, you quickly flee inside the room and jump under your blanket. You hiss and close your eyes, cheeks flushed at the remembrance of the kiss and his amused face staring at you—God, can you be more humiliating?

After taking a shower, Seokjin jumps on the bed and you instantly scoot yourself further away, with your back facing him. The silent giggle is still heard and frustrated, you sent him a glare. “Why are you laughing?! There’s nothing funny.”

“I’m laughing not because it's funny, but because you’re extremely cute.” He hums, probably noticing how the blush crept back on your cheek. You scowl in annoyance. “You’re so aggressive today, but how can you’re still so cute? What happened, hmm?”

“No, I just…Ugh, I’m trying here, okay? I know these past two years might have been frustrating to you, I won’t even be surprised if you’ve been sleeping around—”

“What? What are you saying? Who’s sleeping around?” Seokjin asks, puzzled. You bit your lips, looking down in shame.

“I don’t know, maybe because my friends told me they wouldn’t last without sex and I just… I thought you’re like that too. And we haven’t really talked about that, so...”

He laughs, pulling you close until you flush against his chest. He smells like oak and citrus and it entices you at once. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone for the past two years. My last time was probably with a stranger when I broke up, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s really—”

“I am serious. And why would I lie? I just… think it’s not right. To be truthful, I also don’t want you to sleep around with someone else when we’re married, I’m just trying to keep this as pleasant as it could be for us.”

Humming against his chest, you feel your heart warming at his considerate act. You really are marrying the right person—regardless of how unconventional it started. You can’t even imagine if it was someone else. Few minutes of silence just feeling his arms around yours until you speak and ruin the whole conversation.

“So does it mean you’re a great masturbator?”

Seokjin laughs until his whole body vibrates. “Well, maybe you could say it like that.”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Jane asks during your lunch with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon with a hint of teasing on her tone. “I am surprised you even came to the office today. I thought you’d call in sick.”

“What the hell—it’s not like that.” You hiss at her, hoping she’d get your subtle message to quit it. Jane groans.

“Come on, Y/N, we are all adults here. Tell us! At least tell me how many rounds. What was it like? Did you use any other tools—like ropes or vibrators?”

Hoseok and Namjoon literally choke on their drinks, while Jungkook smirks in amusement at your flushed cheeks. “Don’t say it. Damn, Jane, it’s not it! What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, I mean you literally called in sick to buy a lingerie—that I chose, for those taking notes—which literally will get him hot and erected in no time. How can I not be wondering?! What was it like? Tell me, I’m a lonely mother of two, Y/N. I just want to know, hmm?”

“Yes, tell us, Y/N! How’d it go with your lawfully wedded husband?” Jungkook joins in, giggling in mischief. You shot him an unamused look.

“Ah, I remember those days. Fucking till morning with my wife. Well, before the baby arrives.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, and you are visibly repulsed at his sentence. “I agree with Jane, Y/N. I love my child to death, but I’d rather wait for maybe another year or two.”

“It’s not like that!” You hide your face on your palm. “There literally nothing happened. I wore that lingerie, and surprised him when he came home, but we ended up doing nothing but kissing. He laughed, by the way. Thanks for that, Jane.” You glare at her, and she shrugs.

“Only that?” Hoseok asks, uncertain. “You’re already wearing lingerie and nothing happened?”

You vengefully nod. “That’s really all. Then he took a shower, we just talked until both fell asleep. Done.”

Namjoon contemplates, fingers on his chin. “That’s weird. Hmm. You don’t even bother jumping in the shower?”

“You are an idiot.” You sigh, massaging your temple—even if the idea struck you in a way. Should you have jumped into the shower with him? But you did your make up and all... “Even kissing him was already—”

Jungkook quickly cuts with roaring laughter. “Wow, I never know you’re that much of an idiot, Y/N! Ha ha ha I’m hungry, does anyone want to order food now?” As others are focused on skimming the menu, he sends you a look, and you just register that you were about to blabber the reality of your marriage. You grimace and mutter your thanks to him.

Two weeks have passed in a blink, and you are seriously pleased with the way things are. It feels like the boundary has been torn down between you two, and pretty clear that Seokjin’s been making an effort for your relationship as well. Usually, you always feel the things he does is based on mere obligation, but you know it’s no longer the case for him. You can feel how much he cares and adores you—receiving your bear hugs whenever he comes home, holding you close before coming to bed, kissing your forehead whenever it feels right.

Just like today. You are feeling a bit feverish, and when you reply to his message asking how’re you doing, he immediately calls.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks after the first beep, tone laced with concern. “If you’re not feeling good, you should go home. Do you want me to call a taxi? Or can you wait for an hour, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. This is not really rare. I’ll be fine soon.” You giggle, even inside of you tickles on the wondrous feeling of him caring for your well being. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay. I’ll get you.” He reminds and you hum in agreement. “Stay put until then, okay?”

I love you. “See you.”

I love you too. “Bye.”

And while driving home with Seokjin, you don’t know why but you feel physically much better than before. It just feels so right with him beside you. Especially when you initiate to hold his hand, he lets go for a second and repositions himself so he could hold your hand better—you seriously think you could fall sick on how jumpy you’ve become because of him.

“Are you sure you’re sick? Or you just need some attention, hmm?” He teases, lightly pinches your cheek. You huff in embarrassment.

“You’re annoying.” You are about to pull back your hand to your lap when he holds it tighter.

“Who says I wanna let go.” Seokjin’s lips curl into a hearty smile. You still maintain your fake scowl. “You’re just so cute, that’s what.”

“Why are you so cheesy nowadays.” You burst in laughter, unable to hold it back. Seokjin beams, and reliably parks the car in your apartment’s basement with one hand. Finally silence, it's only you and him with the soft engine sound when he pulls you to his arms.

“Thank you for loving me. I seriously don’t know what you see in me, but I seriously can’t believe that you really like me and want to go through this.” He exhales softly, his left arms holding you by the waist, his right stroking your hair. “I hope that you know that I’m trying my best here. But I don’t know why, it doesn’t even feel like trying. Everything is so easy with you.”

“That’s really cheesy.” You chuckles, but tighten your arms around him regardless. “I’m also very thankful that you’re giving us a chance. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. I keep on making a mess, falling in love when I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, don’t say that. I am really happy we’ve been through this, or I might always chicken out. Even if it could be better if I wasn’t such a jackass, but I’m still grateful.” He coos, pecking your forehead.

Releasing his hug, you are about to mutter something when he cuts with his lips lurching unto yours, cutting whatever sound beside loud moans. You are taken aback, falling a step back before steadying yourself by finding purchase on his shoulder. His palms are on either side of your face, pacing himself.

You spend no time responding, savoring the tender taste of his lips. He tasted just the way you remember, sweet and addicting that leaves you wondering why you haven’t been doing this since the beginning. Catching a breath, he laps at your lips for opening, and as you comply, he roughly pulls you closer by the nape, tangling his tongue like he is a man starved all this time.

“Did you eat a donut?” You giggle when he lets your lips go, trailing pepper kisses on your neck instead. When his lips ghosts to the succulent curve of your v-neck top, you abruptly pull him up to see you in the eye.

“Baby, don’t. Not here. We’re just steps away from the apartment and we’re not getting reprimanded of public indecency.” You remind him. Seokjin scoffs, letting out a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t wear this top. This is not good for my health.” He frowns as you laugh. “And what are you thinking, I’m not going to have our first time in this car. It was just an intro, so you better be prepared.”

“Ooh, consider me spooked, then.” You smirk in mischief. It is somehow proven by the way Seokjin cannot take his hands off of your waist, ghosting right above the bump of your ass while ascending to your apartment. At all the action you feel the discomfort between your thigh—high chance you are already dripping wet. You have been feeling exceptionally horny this few days, anyway.

“And don’t think I didn’t know the way you’re invading my space and grinding your ass last night when we went to sleep.” He suddenly mentions the event that leaves you all blushing—especially with the other residents on the elevator. You elbow him right away, finger crossed they won’t hear a word he’s saying.

Arriving in your apartment, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate when he pulls you for a deep kiss, his fingers hovering on the hem of your top to detach it from you, flinging it to wherever. Your skin shivers when his fingers are in contact with your bare skin, and to your bra as he grabs the succulent flesh that leaves you a moaning mess.

“Baby, wait. I need to go to the restroom.” You whisper between the kiss, when the incessant throb quite overwhelming your good sense now. Seokjin huffs in pout but let go either way. There’s no way he will say no to whatever request you have for him.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart.”

Running to your toilet with a qualmish feeling on your stomach, you quickly discard your panties with a hypothesis—to have it confirmed by how it has been ruined… with your period blood. You hiss, the frustration building up in your head. You are just about to have sex with your husband after long days of pining, and you just had to have the period on the exact same day. There’s gotta be wrong with your luck.

Finally cleaning yourself, you walk out to find your husband is sitting on the couch, a visible hard-on from his trousers. At the sound of you walking out, he stands but to find your deep frown. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I hate this so much. I can’t believe we’re about to do this but I got to have my period.” You run to his side, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry for ruining this.”

At your visible dejection, Seokjin can’t bear but to giggle and it leaves you puzzled. How can he be laughing now? “Hey, it’s no matter to me. We can do something else about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And we can leave that one for raincheck, so don’t be upset.”

Seokjin spends no other second in ravishing your lips while detaching your bra, discarding it in the same manner. His large palms grab the mounds, giving it a little squeeze before pinching your sensitive buds, especially now that you’re in your period. “Ugh, god. You’re so beautiful.” He gruffly mutters before taking your left mounds into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that you have to tug on his fluffy hair on how the pleasure has engulfed you.

“Seokjin...” You moan his name as he shifts to the other mounds, his other hand strays to your clothed core, giving it a feathery touch before he pushes his digits. You bit your lips, holding back a sound.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I want to hear all of you tonight.” He reminds. You nod, feeling your mind has clouded in haze and all you can feel is how great he is with his deed.

Noticing how he has been focusing on your pleasure and satisfaction, you push him back to the couch, your knees on the wooden floor before taking a ride for yourself by opening the fly of his trousers. Seokjin gasps at your cold hands on his erected cock before it springs free in all its glory.

“God, you’re so big. I’m not sure if I can take you end when this fucking period is over.” You are shocked at the size of his girthy dick, the precum is already leaking and you can feel your saliva swimming in your mouth—desperate for a taste.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” He comforts, before his tone drops. “Now suck on my cock like you’re a bitch in heat.”

You give a kittish lap on the slit, tasting the saltiness that is unfamiliar to your tongue, but is easy to discard when encouraged by the moan he is letting out with such favor. Noticing that it might hurt him to be blown without proper preparation, you spit on his dick, before giving him a sensual pump. “Fuck, Y/N, where did you learn to do that—god!” He moans in rapture.

Your mouth closes in, sucking on the tip before taking him in your mouth. You run your tongue along the vein of his beautiful cock, wrapping your lips tight around it, feeling how it throbs in your mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. But for the intention of teasing, you’re detaching your lips, going to the ridge of his cock’s length for a lick.

“Damn it, baby, why are you such a tease.” He groans, but is cut with your palm wrapping around his dick, the other slides up to his ball. You can feel a new wave of arousal coming out from your pussy. “Now let me fuck your throat.” He stoutly orders with hooded eyes, forcing your mouth back to take in his red tip and length until it hits the back of your throat—resulting in a gag. Seokjin gathers your hair, helping it out of your way before he raises his hips, feeling the wondrous feeling of your mouth clamming on his dick.

“Don’t flex your throat, sweetheart. Relax, okay? Tell me if you want to stop.” He stares at you, and you nod. You fucking love this, and you’d literally do anything to make him satisfied tonight. Your throat relaxes, and you savor his satisfied groans after feeling the back walls of your throat, with the tears streaking your cheek at his pace and feeling the burn.

“O-oh g-god, F-fuck y-yes.” Seokjin pants, each syllable coming out as he thrust into your throat. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your pretty face while I fucked your mouth hard.” He angles you better until he is satisfied, the lewd image of his cock stuffed into your mouth instantly sends him jerking faster.

A throaty moan slips out of you, and the action successfully sends him to his edge, feeling the vibrations cause his cock to throb in your pretty mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so fucking great.” The compliments earns him another groan from you, and it ignites the leading to his awaited orgasm.

Few other thrusts in your throat, you finally feel Seokjin constricting inside of you. He’s about to come, and you’re expecting him to release his load for you to swallow—you were prepared, overall—but unexpectedly he retracts from your mouth, instead jerking off in immaculate pace, and the loss of his dick leaves hollowness inside your throat. “I wanna cum on your tits, baby.” He gruffly whispers.

“Give it to me, daddy.” You persuade, as he pants, still working on his red cock—on the edge of his orgasm. Yet not even once he turns his gaze from you, all red and high with lust hooded in your eyes, the trace of tears on the side of cheek, the swole of your plump lips coated in his pre cum and spit. You look surreal.

“Fuck-fuck! You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hisses, increasing the pace of his pumps before releasing his massive loads on your tits, painting it white. You look down to yourself, feeling his cum trickles down to your nipples and to your thigh. You swipe the liquid with your forefinger, before lapping it clean inside your mouth, internally revolting at the taste.

“Damn, this is crazy. How the fuck you are so good at that.” He sighs in delight, looking at you with lidded eyes and evident aftersex glow. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissue, cleaning his loads on your breast. Both of you involuntary laughs at the current event.

“Come here.” He crouches down, scoops you into his hold before moving to the bedroom. You abruptly circle your arm around his neck, he closes in for your lips for another make out session on bed. While his tongue is lapping at your own, his fingers move to stimulate you with your hardened nipple until your breath is rigged. His right finger cups your clothed core, giving it a welcomed pressure and humping it until you’re left with moans and satisfied sighs, your finger clutches on his hair, tugging it lightly.

Seokjin’s lips advanced to your ear,giving it a kittish lick. “And you better be prepared, I will eat you out and fuck you all night afer your period is done, sweetheart..”

It’s finally Friday, and you are at your desk for work after lunch. Suddenly, Jane closes in at you. “What are you looking at that seriously?” She inquires, noticing you’ve been staring at the calendar on your desk for longer than anyone should. You turn to her, and shake your head silently.

“No, I just realized that it's soon December.”

“So?”

“It’s soon will be Seokjin’s birthday. He’s turning 34.”

Jane nods in understanding. “Will you get him anything?”

“I don’t know.” You tap your chin, thinking of what to get him. You’ve been scrolling through commerce websites, yet to find even an idea about what to give to him. And it hits you—maybe you don’t really know him after all. “What did you get your husband for his birthday?”

She chuckles. “Last birthday I gave him a responsibility of a lifetime—my pregnancy test came out positive. I wouldn’t say it was a very good birthday present though, as we didn’t really expect a pregnancy after all.”

It dims you right away. Pregnancy? It is too far fetched, right? You haven’t even discussed it with Seokjin—and you don’t want to directly throw him a responsibility for another life being when your romantic relationship has basically just started. Days after days of late nights humping and blowjobs, waiting for your period is over is not basically a very firm foundation for having kids. You don’t even know if you’re ready for it.

And today is the last day of your period. Seokjin has actually asked if you want a dinner together—and you said yes. Based on his promise, today should also be the day you will be making love till dawn. But this dampens your mood a bit, at the thought of having kids frightens you.

Scrolling through instagram, you see that Tasha, your sister-in-law has posted a series of photos from the previous birthday lunch of your father-in-law. The first photo is the five of them smiling together, the second is their three children with the grandparents, and the next one is Seokjin, smiling while he’s caging Taehyun’s little frame inside his arms. You smile longingly at that. Nobody can deny it though—Seokjin is amazing with kids, you know how much he loves them. And there are countless times you pity him for marrying you—as children were never part of your plan before.

But now you love him. And so does he.

And the thoughts have been haunting you that even when you’re seated in front of him in a high class restaurant, Seokjin can sense something is bothering your mind. He holds you by the hand across the table, and how you instinctively flinch confirms his suspicion.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You smile nervously at him, shrugging. “I am fine, but yeah.. Something is just.. bugging my mind, that’s all.”

“What is it?” He asks softly, a bit worried. “Don’t you like this place? Are you cold? You’re not sick, right?”

“It’s not it.” You giggle at his cute attention. “I just... you know, I saw the date and realized that you’re having a birthday soon. I just don’t know what to get you. A bit upset that maybe it feels like I don’t know you that well, that’s all.”

His face lightens at that, the creases of his smile evident. “No, you don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy with what we have right now.” He gazes at you, pulling your hands to give it a light kiss. “I am just.. very thankful that you’re here.”

“But I want to give you something.” You frown, looking down. “It feels like you’re always taking care of me, and I’m always at the receiving end.”

“Why are—Y/N, you are the most selfless person I know. The way you take care of me just shows how much I owe you with anything I have. I want to make you happy, as you already made me the happiest I can be.” He explains in rush, like he’ll suffocate if you don’t realize how precious you are to him any time soon.

“Thank you.” You gratefully replies, holding back the tears from falling.

The next two hours, you’re already in bed with Seokjin on top of you, both your clothes are far long discarded on the floor. His palm is grabbing your succulent mounds, his right palm on the bed beside your face. His lips are lapping at yours, savoring the wine you consumed from the previous dinner.

“Seokjin, please put your dick inside me.” You moan before biting his lower lips. He smirks haughtily.

“Not so fast. I promised I’d eat you, didn’t I, kitten?” He questions, before moving his kisses to your neck, breast, stomach and to your thigh. You bite your own lips, your breath hitched when feeling the cold air he blows to your throbbing core.

He laps at your cunt, his fingers sensually moving in circles for stimulation, and when his tongue is finally in contact with your clit, you feel the new wave of arousal is dripping out. Seokjin grins, instantly welcoming it with his tongue that leaves you a moaning mess. “Kitten, you’re dripping so much. Do you want to be fucked that badly?”

“Yes, yes, daddy. Don’t hesitate, please fuck me.” You breath out, finally pulling his face closer to your cunt. Seokjin slaps them harshly, eyes turning dark at your disobedience.

“Are you not going to be patient, kitten? Do you want daddy to stop fucking you?”

The thoughts literally scare your whole being that you deters from touching him. “Daddy, please. Fuck me, stuff me with your big cock.”

After that he continues on with his crazy good tongue, moving in and out of you until you screams his name in pleasure. Not only his tongue, his digits enter you in exchange, furthering them inside to scissors you until you are crying of ecstasy. As your orgasm builds up, he circles your clit in wondrous motions with simultaneous licking your cunt which helps you reach your edge. And not even another minute, you cum generously on his tongue.

Few minutes of reaching your breath, Seokjin laughs at your fucked out expression, your orgasm has caught up with you. You are literally glowing with sweat and satisfaction that it literally takes his breath with how blissful you feel, because of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I still need to ride you, need you to cum inside me.” You remind him right after finding his strangely contented expression staring down at you. “Just... let me take a breather, okay?”

“Are you sure you can ride me? It seems like you lost all your energy.” He giggles, plopping beside you on bed, pulling you close to his chest, that you are leaning on his arm. “I am marrying a fifty years old. How come you already lost your stamina after an orgasm?”

“It’s not it! I’m just a bit tired after work.” You scowl, rolling your eyes at his teases. “You are so annoying.”

He smirks, pecking you in the lips. “But you love me, right?”

“My fault, I know.” You huff. In Seokjin's hearty smile, and you suddenly are reminded of the photo of him Tasha posted this afternoon.

“Seokjin. Can I ask you something?” You ask, fidgeting your finger. Seokjin hums. “You know, I saw Tasha posted a photo of you and Taehyun this morning. And I was just thinking… if you want a child?”

“What?” He looks down at you, a bit of confusion written on his face that it scares you he’ll not take this like you want him to.

“No, it’s just—I just think that you like kids very much and they like you too, I am just thinking if you want a child. I don’t mean it now, b-but if y-you want now—”

“Sweetheart, has this been bothering your mind when we had dinner? About having a child?”

You look down, suddenly not courageous enough to face him, afraid of finding the disappointment or doubt in his eyes. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Seokjin closes you again now that you are chest by chest, face by face, his arms circling your back. “I want everything with you, Y/N. At the right place, at the right time.”

He continues, fixes your locks and rests a few lost strands behind your ear lovingly. “I know this has been hard, especially for you. Pregnancy, birthing is never easy, and I know it’s not really in your plan, even including me. So I will never force you to anything. I want everything you want, okay? And it’s your body. It’s your choice.”

You nod, burying your face on his shoulder, finding purchase on the musky scent of his. Oh, how much you love this man. “Thank you. I don’t know why you always have the rightest thing to say. I really, really envy and love you for it.”

“You went through for me. Of course I want to give you everything. I love you, Y/N, until the sea sleeps.”

“Until the sea sleeps?” You cocks your head in questions. He nods affirmatively.

“Yes. If life is the sea, I want to go through it with you. Until it ends. Until it sleeps.” He plants kisses lovingly on your forehead, to your nose, and finally, to your lips. But at once you finally push him on his back, internally shouting in joy at his choice of grand large bed.

“How can you say such thoughtful and beautiful words with your dick is pressing on my stomach.“ You hisses in fake chagrin, before continuing.

“I love you too, but for now let me ride you, daddy...” You whisper sensually, grinding at his half-erected cock. Seokjin smirks in amusement, resting both his palm behind his head as he enjoys the lewd sight, your breast jiggling wonderfully, your cold hands palming his dick.

Oh god, how much he loves you...

2 Years Later....

“Honey, can you help grabbing the diapers?” You pleaded from your bedroom, carefully cleaning your five months old baby girl, throwing away the spoiled diapers near your feet. Seokjin quickly arrives with a fresh set of diapers, baby oils, a fresh pair of baby overalls and beige shirt.

“Thank you, honey, you’re the best.” You smile as he pecks your lips slightly. You continue your work in changing Mina’s clothes as the baby lets out a light gurgles, Seokjin sitting across the bed, his lips curling at the beautiful sight.

After finally falling in love with each other two years ago, you and Seokjin decided to go with your own pace and did not rush into having kids. It was the best decision after all, not a hint of doubts when you knew he’s just as invested as you are in this marriage. You decided to savor it all, both you and Seokjin took leave from work and humdrum life to explore the other side of world together.

And eight months together passed, you and him both decided it would be the perfect time for you to start getting off the birth pill. Few months of trying and getting pregnancy, you and Seokjin are granted the beautiful healthy baby girl, whom both you named as Kim Mina.

Holding her then or now, you just know she’s already the best gift of your life that you’d do anything for her happiness and well being.

“So, is Taehyung and Tasha anywhere near our house?” You ask, glancing at the clock. “They are probably the only people I’d worry at this point. All my work friends are already on the way. Yoongi is already in the way, right?”

“Yes he is. But no worry about Taehyung, sweetheart. I have made him promise or else he’ll have to be a clown for Mina’s birthday party.” Seokjin laughs. “All the food is served, everything is in the way it should be. We are going through this.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally having a housewarming party. And a baby too.” You laugh dreamily, picking up Mina to cradle on your chest. “Four years ago us would never believed this.”

“Four years ago Seokjin was a blind fool, I had to say. He almost missed the greatest woman on the planet.” Seokjin warmly back hugs you, kissing your cheek lovingly. You hum in mirth. “Luckily this greatest woman is willing to fight for him. The greatest gift for that lucky bastard, I have to say.”

“Well, she loved him too much, I have to say. It was all worth it.”

With the end of the sentence, a chime of bell is heard—somebody is coming. You quickly walk to the door with Seokjin on your side. The first one to arrive is Hoseok and Jungkook, the only single bachelor of the party. “Hi, Y/N, Seokjin! Congratulations, the house is incredible.” Both of them give you a sided hug, and Jungkook shoves two bottles of wine on your hold.

“Drink up!” Jungkook giggles, kissing your baby’s cheek as he taps on Seokjin’s shoulder as a greeting, walking into your house to your tables of served dishes.

In a spare of minutes, few of yours and Seokjin friends are walking in—Jane and her family, Namjoon and his wife and kid, and Yoongi with his girlfriend. You welcome them all with a wide smile, thankful for their presence.

Your parents and Seokjin’s surprisingly arrive right after each other, simultaneously gushing at their grandchild. “Mina! My very cute grandchild!” Your mother squeals in delight after giving you and Seokjin a greeting hug. Seokjin’s mother immediately scoops Mina out of your grasp, moving inside the house to play with her.

Walking around talking with your friends, another bell chime is heard from the door. You and Seokjin walk to open it, finding Jimin on the door with Yoonji, his wife of three months. Their face instantly lightens up at you, and you move to hug the blissful new couple.

About Jimin, he finally moved back from Sydney to Seoul for good one and a half years ago. He was taking over a few branches of his father’s business, and you started rekindling the friendship with him. And you don’t want to brag, but you are the matchmaker for Jimin and Yoonji. She was the new assistant manager at your unit, and one dinner, you invited Jimin for dinner with your work friend’s and they instantly hit the bat right away. It doesn’t even take a year for Jimin to get on one knee and propose to her.

“Hi, Seokjin.” Jimin grins in courtesy. Seokjin answers with a laugh, pulling the younger guy into a side hug. You point Yoonji her way to Hoseok and Jungkook. “Congrats on the new house, man. This place is great.” Jimin sincerely compliments, handing him a large box of housewarming gifts which Seokjin gladly receives with loud squeaky laughs of thank you.

It’s also been a year since Jimin had the talk with Seokjin, in which they bonded over alcohol and food. Jimin also apologized to what he did a few years back, and Seokjin instantly accepted it—no hard feelings, knowing that it was for the best as he finally found you, the best thing that happened to him. After that, Jimin basically joins the gang with Seokjin and Yoongi, and also hangs out with your friends slash his wife’s friend. It was all good.

After the housewarming party time finally arrives, the helper hands the drinks in tray for a toast. You lean onto Seokjin’s chest, as he begins the welcoming toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming. This hasn’t been a very easy ride with me and Y/N, but we are very thankful to where we are right now. A beautiful baby, a great house, a great loan—” Everyone chuckles at his joke. “ —but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanna say thank you to my wife, who has stood by me through thick and thin. I’d never be able to do it without you.”

Suddenly, the shouts to kiss are visible—high chance initiated by Jeon Jungkook—and you giggle before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. The aws are heard, and Seokjin looks back to the audience. “Thank you to my family and friends. Your great support is the reason we are here right now. I am very grateful.”

“Let’s toast, for this wonderful day. May we always be healthy and happy. Cheers!” Seokjin smiles and clinks his glass of champagne to yours. The sound of glass clinking against each other is heard simultaneously, and you sips on the beverage. Seokjin gazes down on you, a toxicated smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask, falling a bit shy.

“I am so happy. You make me very happy, and I thank you for that.” He closes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the sea sleeps.”

You hum in serenity, savoring his wondrous scent. “I love you too, baby. Until the sea sleeps.”

Suddenly, the doors are busted open, Taehyung rushed eyes staring confusedly at the large group of people settling on their places, Taehyun on his grasp. “Am I late? I don’t have to be a clown, right?!”

Just an disinterested glace before the crowd disperse around the home in group. Seokjin cunningly smirks at him, walking closer and taps his shoulder in a fake comforting manner.

“Sorry, brother. Looking forward to you coming as a clown in Mina’s birthday party, okay?”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, but is not missed by your approaching mother-in-law. She immediately screeches loudly in anger, completely enraged with both hands on hips.

“Kim Taehyung! Your son is there, and you curse?! How dare you set out a bad example for your son?!”

He grimace, glaring at you and your husband who are laughing heartily at his clear misery.

“Lord, have your mercy.”

Thank you for reading! it’s such a great ride writing this. Credits to one quora answer I read that inspires this whole fluffy prompt. And all the smut writers that inspired me on writing such unholy scenes lol

Do slide into my ask box and let me know what you think! 🤩💜💌 And check out my other fics ➡ (click here)!

#bts #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts jin #bts fanfic #bts x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #bts seokjin smut #taehyung #jungkook #ot7 #ot7 smut #seokjin x reader #taecalikook #bts marriage au #bts strangers to lovers

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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

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To been seen, part Four (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : You get a text. You freak out.

Author’s note : I am very very soft for Frankie.

Also, I have a few days off and I thought I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were happy. And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????

You waited, breathing hard, hoping anyone would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this.

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you jumped. You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

Go get some

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had coping mechanisms, now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the Christmas Scene so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in Supernatural, gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is what and you know you sound like a dumbass and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me presents ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking cheese on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you don’t want it to rewind because Frankie has gifts for you, just for you.

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body finally moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say thank you in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually love. Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit blushing. He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because Frankie got you presents for Christmas. You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you throw yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just here, sitting on the back of your neck, skin against skin and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word date in it. Maybe you were friends now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a yeah, sure, I’m in !

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be burnt into your brain.

Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?

You could spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied just in time for dinner, and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was not as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

This was not a date, you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is right there ? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi kinda looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, ever, tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we weren’t going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of Edward Scissorshands. So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And then this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his grandma. Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to always have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know everything). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will hated him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So that conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was available. You sputtered a bit and Will, kind Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

Come over please

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Please, he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you needed to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you chose - to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. Maria’s gonna wake up soon, he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was too damn early for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were pretending to be, but you were not and never would.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon. You wanted everything and friends just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - loved - Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you froze.

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still processing what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how good that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal x reader

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years ago

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Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet.

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #irreverentseries #hotch x you #hotch x reader

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youreacowgirllikeme · 4 years ago

Text

Intoxicated

note: this was a request from @dappertapper69 , I hope you like it :)

words: 4238 (oops)

warning: alcohol, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that) hope that’s it

“Focus, damn it! “you told yourself, hastily writing down some notes on your tablet before looking back up to where your boss was standing in front of the white board. It was the daily morning meeting, so you still were a bit tired, but that’s what coffee was for and it was certainly not the reason you weren’t able to pay attention.

It was him, your boss. Right now, he was showing some poll graphic, but your eyes were fixed on his muscular arms and rolled up shirt sleeves. He looked so good when dressed casually, the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and you desperately wanted to run your hand into the neckline.

Yes, your boss was hot, but he was also really intelligent, kind and funny to no ends. The whole package, and your crush on him was big.

But your boss was also Jake Tapper, the lead anchor of CNN Washington, and there was no way he would ever see you this way. No, he was your mentor, and you basically owed everything you had right now to him.

You’ve met about a year ago at a debate Jake was moderating. Covering the event had been the first major job you’ve gotten from the newspaper you we’re working at back then, and while you weren’t really satisfied with print media, you had to take what you could. But meeting Jake had changed your life for real. You had started talking about what you were currently writing about, and you showed him some of the freelance articles you had done in for various political blogs.

He had liked your work, you exchanged numbers and two weeks later, a job offer from CNN Washington was on your desk, assistant producer for The Lead with Jake Tapper. You had to read the letter three times before actually believing it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you had no doubt who was behind it.

You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you directly called Jake to confirm, and two weeks later you were all packed up and ready to move to DC.

Jake went above and beyond to make sure your transfer was smooth in every sense, he helped you find an apartment, gave you a two-hour long office tour on your first day of work and regularly checked up on you in the first weeks to see if you were adjusting. He still did that, to be honest, even now that you’ve worked here for months and had learned the ropes.

But you didn’t mind at all, you have learned so much from Jake, journalism-wise as well as when it came to politics, history and literature. His general knowledge was so impressive, another thing that made him so ridiculously attractive to you.

But considering all the facts, jeopardizing your entire career by making a move at Jake was just impossible. But Lord, you wanted to.

You were so caught up in daydreaming that you didn’t even notice that the meeting was over, everyone already left except for Jake. He was packing up his stuff and looked over to you.

“Y/N, everything alright. You’ve been really quiet today, and you look exhausted. Is there something you need?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Bless his heart, you thought. There was definitely something you needed from him, but you would not go there. And it wasn’t like you could tell him that the reason for your exhaustion was the wet dream you’ve had of him last night, one that made you wake you up drenched in sweat and with soaked panties, unable to fall asleep again.

So you just dismissed him. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a lack of sleep.”

“You know you can always come to me when there is something up.” Jake said, putting his hand on your arm in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but just got you even more worked up. You had it bad for the man, and that was why needed to get out of this situation right now.

“Of course, I know.” You gave him a tight smile, hoping he would buy it. “But I really need to go now, lots of stuff to do. I’ll see you.”

Later that day, when you were alone in your office booth, you texted your friend who was working in another department of CNN.

I def need to let off some steam tonight. Club? Xx

She texted you back a couple of minutes later.

Run in with the hot boss again? ;) But sure, let’s do it xx

Even though it was a weekday, the club was bursting with people. You already were on your third or fourth round of shots, and the base was humming through your body, blasting away your worries.

You dragged your friend over to the dancefloor when you heard your favorite song starting to play, the alcohol creating a warm and fuzzy sensation you totally got lost in.

+++

When you woke up the next morning, you regretted every decision you ever made. You didn’t remember how you got home last night, and your head felt like someone had smashed it in with a hammer. And on top of all, you were late for work.

When you finally got the office, everyone was already coming out of the morning meeting. You carefully made your way inside the meeting room, where Jake was still packing up his stuff, as always. As you approached him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as it usually did when you were alone with him, but now with the added fear of his anger.

But when he glanced up and saw you, he looked…relieved? You were confused, you had expected a telling-off, but he appeared as if he was happy to see you.

“Thank god you’re alright, Y/N, I was so worried when you didn’t show up this morning.”

It was when he took a closer look at you that he noticed your appearance, and undoubtedly sensed the alcohol still lingering. He had a very keen sense of smell, something he told you a while back. You swallowed when you saw his expression shift from friendly to irritated.

“You’re hungover.” He stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold.

“Jake, I’m really sorry, I-“you began to apologize, but he was not having it.

“Look, it’s really none of my business how you decide to spend your free time, but I expect you to act professional when it comes to the job, and that doesn’t include showing up late and hungover. I will let this one slide, but this happens again, and we have a problem, am I clear?” he was definitely angry, and you should be intimidated my that. You really felt remorse, but seeing Jake worked up like that also made your stupid brain come up with thoughts of him throwing you on the desk of the briefing room and working out his frustration on you.

“I said, am I clear?” Jake asked again, you had clearly zoned out again.

“Yes, sure, clear.” You said in a small voice, now immensely ashamed that you had disappointed Jake, after everything he had done for you.

“Again, I am really so sorry.” You called after Jake as he was making his way out of the room, but he just dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

The thoughts you had about Jake didn’t leave your mind for the rest of the day. You wanted him so bad and seeing him constantly when he was so out of reach was getting harder every day. You desperately needed to clear your head, the only way you knew. So, against your better judgement, you texted your friend again, and a couple of hours later you found yourself in the same club, drunk and dancing without a care in the world.

You almost hated how much you needed this, the music, the people surrounding you, the alcohol flowing through your veins, making you forget everything.

You lost count how many drinks you’ve downed, but you lost sight of your friend as well, so you decided to go outside for a smoke and some fresh air.

You picked your phone out of your pocket to message your friend when a fantastic idea hit you.

Why not call Jake? You were having a great time, and it only made sense that you should share it with him, because you really liked him, right?

“Y/N? It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong, did something happen?” a still sleepy, but increasingly alarmed Jake asked from the other side of the phone.

“Hiii Jake, oh my god, I’m having the best time ever here, it’s so fun, you should come too! C’mon its Friday, you should party a bit.” You basically screamed into your phone, your voice slightly slurred from too many drinks.

“Shit, it’s Friday morning, which means there is still work tomorrow. Wait, are you drunk? Where are you?” Jake asked, his voice was full of anger now, and under normal circumstances you would be really worried about that, but right now, you did not care a single bit.

“Oh, I’m at that great new club downtown, it’s called the red…I can’t remember, something with red, and the people are so nice, but I lost my friend, so I think I’m going home soon.” You rambled on, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“There is no way in hell you’re going home like this, Y/N. You stay right where you are, I’m coming.”He definitely sounded infuriated now, and even your intoxicated brain understood the instructions.

“Alright, Jakey, I’ll see you.” But he had already hung up.

You kept aimlessly walking around in front of the club for a while, making drunk small talk with other club goers, when suddenly, someone grabbed your shoulder and yanked you around. It was Jake, tired looking and with a deep frown on his face.

“Jaaaaaake, you came!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his neck. He stiffened against you and softly pushed you away.

“Y/N, you’re wasted. Come on, I’m getting you home.” He said, voice leaving no room for arguments. He grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you to his nearby car, pushing you into the passenger seat. When he leaned over you to buckle your seatbelt, he came incredibly close to you, and again, you spoke without thinking.

“You smell so nice, Jake, like a forest.”

He just gave you a puzzled look and walked around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

The drive to your flat passed in tense silence, you were busy staring at Jakes hands angrily gripping the steering wheel, wondering if they would feel as good around your neck as you imagined. You could feel a tingle between your legs and started squirming a bit, until Jake grabbed your bare tight just below the hem of your skirt and snarled “Stop moving like this, I have to focus on traffic.”

You had to stifle a moan at his rough touch, but if he noticed he didn’t comment on it.

When you finally arrived at your building, Jake had to support you while getting into the elevator and to your door, you weren’t that steady on your feet anymore and by now, more of a tired than a giddy drunk.

“That’s mine.” You said and started fumbling with your keys. “You wanna come inside?”

If you had been sober, you would’ve noticed the pained expression that flashed over Jakes face just before it hardened again.

“No, I certainly won’t come inside, but this is what you are going to do. You will drink a glass of water, brush your teeth and set your alarm, so you will be on time at work tomorrow where we can discuss” he gestured angrily between the two of you “whatever this stunt was. Understood?”

“Yes.” You answered meekly “and thank you for taking me home!” you called, but Jake was already on his way back to the elevator.

+++

When your alarm woke you up only a few hours later, you felt like hell. And that was because you could remember everything. No blissful blackout this time, you were able to recall every vivid, horrible detail of how you had made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the man you admired most in the world. You owed him one hell of an apology, and you were not really sure how to go about this.

You entered the office like a beaten dog, shoulders hanging and praying to the gods you looked better than you felt. Jake ignored you in the morning briefing, so you stayed behind to face his wrath. When you were finally alone, you spoke first.

“Jake, about last night, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Not only did I act extremely reckless and unprofessional, but I also took advantage of our friendship, which is something that a value more than anything. I accept whatever repercussion you see fit, I just hope you can see how sorry I am.” By the end of your little speech you were almost crying, your disappointment in yourself and your fear of Jakes reaction were making you physically sick.

Jake stayed silent for what felt like forever, and when he finally spoke, your anxiety was almost killing you. “Yes, I am immensely angry about what happened last night. But most of all I’m worried. The Y/N I know doesn’t act that irresponsible, getting absolutely wasted two nights in a row. I went to talk to your friend down in the sports department earlier this morning. I know, that might be considered unprofessional, but she’s just as worried as I am. She told me you’ve been drinking a lot lately, and always more than you should. What is wrong, Y/N, what are you hiding from me?”

That was the perfect timing to tell him everything, how he was on your mind all the time, how you wanted to kiss him, touch him, be with him in every way possible, so bad that it was keeping you up at night or haunted your dreams. But you couldn’t, there was too much on the line.

“Nothing, work is just stressful, I’ve been working overtime so much; I had to blow off some steam. I’m just sorry I dragged you into this.”

Jake stepped closer to you, and you could feel your heart speed up at the way he was looking at you, something like heated curiosity on his face.

“So, this has nothing to do with the way you threw yourself at me last night, or how you told me I smelled nice?” he asked, his deep voice making goosebumps break out all over your skin. “Or with the fact that you tried to invite me into your apartment?”

“Jake, it’s not how it looks like, I swear. I won’t bother you like this again, ever, I promise.” Your voice starting to become panicked, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t know.

But Jake just chuckled and leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“I think I know exactly how this looks, Y/N.”

He took a step back, suddenly looking calm and collected again, as if the moment you just had never happened.

“I have to go now, but I see you tonight. The office party in the bar down the road, you remember? I expect everyone to at least show up for a while.”

Great, you thought, having totally forgotten about the event. You just wanted to curl up in bed and feel sorry for yourself, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards for you today.

And so, a couple of hours later you found yourself in said bar, surrounded by your colleagues. You already had a short talk with your friend, ensuring her that you weren’t mad that she talked to Jake, you were convinced it came from a place of concern.

You kept it at two drinks, but it was enough to lighten your mood a bit. Jake was talking to someone in another corner of the room, and he looked fantastic with a casual blazer and no tie. There were moments when you felt like he was watching you, but you were never able to make eye contact and were too shy to approach him directly.

It got late and people were starting to hit the dancefloor. You decided to give it a go as well, and soon you were totally lost in the music.

Suddenly, you felt a set of strong hands on your hips and the presence of a warm body behind you. You spun around to tell whatever creep decided to grope you to let it go when you saw that it was Jake. He was smirking down at you, moving his body to the music. You weren’t sure what to do, you were incredibly nervous, but having him close felt so good. Deciding to be brave, you just took his hands and put them back on your hips, giving him a small nod. His grin broadened and you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dancefloor. He pulled you closer until your bodies almost were almost touching, you put your hands around his neck and started to lightly move against him.

Jakes eyes were darkening as he looked down at you, and his grip on your hips tightened noticeable. Being the center of his attention like that, in combination with the pulse of the base and the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in your system made you slightly lightheaded, you felt like you were in your own little bubble, just you and Jake. You started to lightly gyrate your hips, and you could swear that you heard him groan over the sound of the song playing. He pulled you even tighter against his body, by now you were grinding against each other, never leaving each other’s eyes, and your body felt like it was on fire. The tension between the two of you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your faces were coming closer and closer to each other, and your heart was basically jumping out of your chest by now, when suddenly, someone burst your bubble.

“Jake, we need you in the studio, there’s been an incident with…” some agitated guy tried to scream over the music, and you couldn’t make out all the words, but the next thing you heard was Jakes voice as he leaned down to address you.

“I have to go for now, but this isn’t over. I’ll see you on Monday.” It sounded promising, and a delicious shudder went down your spine at his words, easing away some of the frustration you felt at being interrupted.

The weekend was long, you didn’t call or text Jake, unsure what to say. So you just tried to distract yourself until it was finally time for work again.

The week started with the usual morning meeting, and you and Jake weren’t even trying to hide the glances you were giving each other. The dynamic between you had definitely shifted, and the tension only increased over the course of the day.

He was purposefully standing closer to you than usual, you let your hand lightly brush against his leg when he was sitting next to you at lunch and during the afternoon shows ad breaks, his eyes were fixed on you, never leaving you out of sight. You looked back, biting your lips and Jakes eyes widened, he looked like he wanted to devour you. You knew that sooner or later you had to face him and address what was going on. So when you got a message from Jake shortly after the show was over, telling you to meet him in his office, you basically ran there.

In front of his door, you took a moment to collect yourself before you knocked and entered.

Jake was leaning against his desk, tie and suit jacked discarded, arms crossed over his chest.

You made your way over to him and when you were close enough, he put his hands on your hips, like he was picking up right where you left it Friday night.

“You know.” He said, and his voice was a bit husky. “I’ve been in quiet the state since our dance Friday night. And your little touches here and there haven’t helped at all.”

He accentuated his words by pulling you flush against his body, and you moaned simultaneously when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against your belly.

You smirked and got on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear “I see, now what am I supposed to do about that?”

You pressed a kiss to his neck, and the deep groan he let out was almost sinful.

He reached out to grab your jaw and kissed you in a way that made it clear that he had lost his usually tight control. You held onto him with both arms while he spun you around and probed you up onto his desk, sending papers and pens flying in all directions. No one of you cared.

His hands found their way under your skirt, climbing up until his fingers were stroking over your already soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your covered clit, and you couldn’t suppress a loud moan.

“God, Y/N, how are you already so wet, I have barely touched you.”

“Get on with it then, please.” You groaned, spreading your legs to give him better access. He complied, pushing up your skirt. You lifted your hips so he could swiftly slide your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening center to the cool air of his office.

His fingers crept up your tights again, parting your lips and plunging two digits inside you while his thumb was rubbing your clit in light, circular motions, the pressure creating the most perfect sensation.

“Yesssss.” You hissed and tried to move your hips into the direction of his fingers to increase the friction, this wasn’t nearly enough for you.

“Please Jake, I need more.” You looked up at him and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, withdrew his fingers and opened his fly. He pulled down his trousers and underwear, revealing his cock. You licked your lips at the sight of it, you were definitely going to enjoy this.

“You better come over here right now.” You whispered, and Jake stepped between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

“Damn, Tapper, fuck me already.” You groaned, and a second later he was thrusting into you in one fluid motion, instantly setting a brutal pace. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress the scream that was bursting out of you at the feeling of being filled so roughly. By now, you were almost lying almost flat on his desk, various clutter digging into your back.

Jakes hand were on your hips again, grabbing them tightly while slamming into you over and over. You had to keep your hand pressed to your mouth to prevent your loud cries from spilling out. Jake was hitting a perfect spot deep inside you with each hard thrust and you already knew you wouldn’t last long.

“I’ve been thinking about this for the whole weekend, throwing you on that desk and fucking you.” He growled through his clenched teeth and hearing him talk like that made your arousal spike. You had never seen him so unhinged, and it was glorious.

“You feel so good inside me Jake, so good, please fuck me harder.” You whimpered, and when he deepened his thrusts it only took another moment till you hit your peak with a guttural cry, a disfigured version of Jakes name falling from your lips.

He fucked you through your climax, never slowing down. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, your mixed breathings and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the office.

When he reached between your legs to rub your clit again, it almost felt like too much, you were overstimulated, but he was relentless, rubbing and pressing until you were on the edge of another orgasm.

“Jake, ugh, I’m going to come again.” You cried, and when he pinched your bud between his fingers you felt like you died and went to heaven. The walls of your pussy were fluttering and clenching down onto his cock as you hit your second peak, this time dragging Jake along with you over the edge. He gave one last forceful thrust and released himself deep inside you with a growl.

After he pulled out, Jake helped you get up from the desk and pulled you against his chest.

“You should have told me earlier.” He said, voice still slightly breathless. “How you felt.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“I wish I had.” You answered. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“What is this too you?” he asked, his voice strangely emotional “What do you want from this?”

“I want you. If you’ll have me?”

The kiss he gave you in response was all the answer you needed.

#jake tapper #cnn #cnn anchors #jake tapper x reader #jake tapper fic #fanfiction #cnn fic #smut

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mopeytropey · 4 years ago

Photo

a beer buds series: chapter 8

author’s note: happy, sappy Lexa hath arrived

available on AO3: here or below the cut

Timeline: just after Lexa returns from her holidays in New York, Clarke is bombarded with work at Dockside; Lincoln keeps her company over the weekend as Lexa relays the events of her Friday spent with Clarke (chapter 7 of 'apu')

Beer: Frequency KÖLSCH-INSPIRED GERMAN ALE

Clean and bright. Pleasingly malty with a touch of noble hop. Crisp and sharp with a subtle malt sweetness on the finish

ABV 5.0%

Frequency: Winter Hill Brewing (Somerville, MA)

:::

Lexa cannot stop smiling.

She hasn’t been able to curb the small grins and outright smiles that keep spreading across her lips at random intervals since leaving Clarke’s house on Friday morning.

She doesn’t stop them when her thoughts drift to the sound of Clarke’s voice and the looks they shared in her kitchen over coffee and bagels. And, she can’t keep her lips from curving when remembering their dinner Friday night, the way Clarke’s eyes would gleam and her cheeks would blush when Lexa would say something purposefully flirtatious. She has more-or-less lost all power over the muscles in her face and the control Clarke has on her overall good mood.

She hasn’t allowed herself this much visible happiness in ages. It feels both incredibly unnatural and like enormous relief.

And, because she is smiling into her phone while reading a recent text from Clarke, riddled with profanity about being stuck at work, she doesn’t notice Lincoln approaching.

“Hey, I’ve missed that smile.”

Lexa’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, and her smile remains. She’s missed him too.

“Hey.”

They clumsily exchange a hug while Lexa is sat on a wicker bar stool and Lincoln stands beside her at a bright grey bar counter made from swirled marble. The sun streams through the front windows of an upscale restaurant known for their brunch menu, woodfired pizzas, and signature cocktails.

Lexa had, in fact, intended to ask Clarke to brunch at this very establishment. She has been eager to resume their mutual exploration of the attraction that’s been brimming between them since early June. Friday had been a glimpse, a negligible fraction of what Lexa knows they are bound to discover over time. She thinks of her fingers tangling between Clarke’s or the physical distances between them that are gradually vanishing. Her head buzzes with all their potential in the days and weeks to come.

Lincoln unbundles from his wool peacoat and unwinds a striped scarf from around his neck to reveal his thick cable knit sweater beneath. “I just saw the girls,” he announces.

Lexa swallows, torn abruptly from the places her mind had been wandering. “Did you?”

“Yeah, they’re slammed down there.” Lincoln takes his seat and then angles himself comically in Lexa’s direction as if he plans to interrogate her. “So, Clarke says hi.”

Lexa’s chest balloons and her smile expands beyond her control. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

“I assume this means you two are on speaking terms again?”

The burn in Lexa’s cheeks is so severe, she’s forced to look away to the sounds of Lincoln’s delighted laughter. He playfully jabs a finger into her bicep while she fails miserably to keep her cool.

“We started talking before I left for New York.” Lexa clears her throat, hoping it will reduce the heat of her embarrassment. “She dropped me at the train station, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. Octavia told me,” Lincoln admits. Lexa backhands him across his chest and attempts to scowl. “Sorry, I had to mess with you a little bit. I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“That’s your one free one.” Empty threats, and they both know it.

“Yeah, sure. Okay,” Lincoln plays along, nevertheless slinging an arm around the back of Lexa’s stool.

The bartender approaches before Lexa can respond, and Lincoln reaches across the bar to slap her hand in a familiar exchange. “What’s good, Lincoln?”

“Hey, what’s up, Taylor?”

“What are you drinking?” she asks him while sliding a coaster in front of him.

He nods to Lexa’s pint of beer. “What’s this?”

“It’s that kölsch-inspired one from Winter Hill,” Lexa answers. “It’s really smooth.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll do the same. Thanks.”

“You guys eating?”

“Yeah, I’d love to see a menu,” Lexa tells her.

Taylor nods, reaching for two rolls of cutlery from beneath the bar. “You got it. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, so: what happened? What’s happening? Tell me everything. How was your Christmas?”

Lexa can’t help but laugh at Lincoln’s eager requests, rattled off with palpable excitement. She takes a deep breath. “Christmas was definitely interesting.”

“Oh yeah?”

Taylor returns with Lincoln’s beer and two menus. She mumbles something quick and low in Spanish to Lincoln that makes him laugh.

“She’s got some real pretentious dicks on the other side of the bar,” Lincoln informs her once Taylor has left them to tend to her other customers. Because the bar is circular, Lincoln attempts to scope out the situation on the other side of the bar by peering through the rows of bottles, glassware, and flatscreen TVs that create a barrier between both sides.

“Think we should bounce them out of here?”

Lincoln laughs into his first sip of beer. “Let me have another pint and I’ll let you know.” He finishes another long sip before sliding his glass back onto the bar. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why Clarke is suddenly in such a supremely good mood despite working her second double in a row, and why you haven’t been able to wipe that idiot grin off your face since I walked in. Wait—also, what did Anya get you for Christmas?”

Lexa rolls her eyes, hoisting up with disdain an article of outerwear from the stool beside her. “Stupid hat.”

Lincoln swallows his mouthful of beer and laughs, nodding approvingly. “Classic An. Okay so, what exactly happened while you were at home?”

Lexa watches her fingers trace the darker patterns that thread the marble bar top. “For one, Costia and I met for coffee after Christmas and finally had that long overdue conversation I’ve been avoiding.”

“Hey, you weren’t the only one avoiding,” Lincoln reminds her.

“Yeah, I know.”

“And so, it’s over?”

Lexa exhales, reaching again for her pint of beer and taking a low sip. “I think it’d been over for a while, but: yes. In an official capacity, we ended it.”

“And, how are you and Costia? Okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. We’d been such good friends anyway—I honestly think that was a huge part of what complicated things for us for so long.”

Lincoln hedges his reaction. “I want to be really happy for you right now because you basically look like you just dropped this huge weight around your neck, but … are you okay with everything?”

“I am.” She looks up to meet his eye as if to prove herself. “It felt right. And, I’m—” Her traitorous lips, already pulling at their edges in a smile, will give her away every time. “I’m really good actually.”

“Good because I’m so happy for you, buddy.” Lincoln squeezes her shoulder with the hand resting on her stool. “Okay so, I know you and Clarke are talking again—and, believe me, we’re all relieved as hell about that—but, what exactly have you told her?”

“You mean about Costia?”

Lincoln finishes his sip of beer, pinning her with a look he must have learned from Anya because Lexa feels absolutely transparent. “I mean, I think Costia is just the tip of a pretty substantial iceberg, but sure. Let’s start there.”

At his candid retort, Lexa exhales a laugh and grasps her beer. “I’m fairly certain Clarke knows that my feelings for her aren’t entirely platonic, if that’s what you mean.” Her mind flashes briefly to the lighting and warmth of Clarke’s kitchen, the scent of toasted bagels and freshly ground coffee.

Lincoln claps his hands, as he so often does in moments of triumph, and smiles broadly. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that we are finally having this conversation.”

“I know. Me too.” In spite of her nerves constantly bubbling to the surface, Lexa is also flooded with the acute relief of authenticity.

“Have you seen her since you’ve been back?”

“We spent some time together on Friday.” Lexa ineffectually bites at her lip to keep from smiling. She thinks of slow hugs, soft hand-holding, and timid admissions amid charged goodbyes. Their interactions thus far have been so buffered by innocence, Lexa cannot believe the way her stomach swoops at her memory of them. “I brought her bagels.”

“Suave.”

“Listen, she—I wasn’t attempting to be romantic.”

Lincoln doesn’t miss a beat. “Liar.”

“Clarke has been living her entire life under the misguided assumption that a small, newly established bagel shop in northern Massachusetts is on par with legitimate New York bagels, Lincoln.” The severity in Lexa’s tone has him visibly amused. “I felt it my sacred duty to correct this misconception.”

“You brought her Bergen’s, didn’t you?”

Lexa looks offended at the ask. “Like I would offer her anything less.”

“And, where are my Christmas bagels?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching for her nearby pint. “Linc—”

“Okay, I see how it is. Too hung up on impressing Clarke to remember one of your oldest friends.” He is nodding, self-righteously.

Like a loveable idiot.

“I’m beginning to second-guess your request to hang out today,” she tells him while averting her eyes to the paper menu in front of her.

Lincoln laughs at her stern tone, knowing it’s a bluff, and returns his arm to rest along the back of her stool.

“How are you actually feeling about this?”

“Sharing an afternoon drink with you? I’m of two minds at the moment.”

“Now who’s being a jackass?” Lincoln grins. “So, you’re scared out of your mind about Clarke then?”

Yes. Absolutely. The nervous uncertainty is all-consuming.

Lexa shrugs, ignoring her inner anxieties and recites aloud the mantra of useless facts she’s been telling herself for days.

“Clarke and I have been close for quite awhile. She knows me, maybe better than most people. Despite any potential uncertainties, we’re operating on the foundation of a very sound friendship.”

Lincoln watches her like she’s come entirely unhinged. “Okay, yeah. Do you have any idea how incredibly shook I was at the prospect of kissing my friend Octavia?”

At the thought of kissing Clarke—images painted vividly by her traitorous mind—a breath lodges in her chest, and Lexa must return to her beer for fear of passing out.

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“I’m just trying to get you to be honest with yourself. And me, for that matter. I mean, I’m just assuming—knowing how much you overthink every goddamn thing to death—that you haven’t slept with her yet.”

“Jesus, Lincoln.” Lexa swallows her embarrassment through multiple sips of beer.

“For that matter, you probably haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“I can’t think about … that yet,” she manages to say without her voice croaking from the strain.

“Kudos to you for being able to think about anything else.”

“I have, obviously, considered the prospect. I just—more than anything I keep thinking about how I want to be around her all the time.”

“No offense, because I mean this genuinely and supportively as your friend, but are you just now figuring that out?”

“Shut up,” Lexa laughs.

:::

The food, as it turns out, is notable.

Lexa orders chicken fried steak and eggs with chorizo gravy and griddled potatoes, immediately lulled into a state of happy sedation as she clears her plate.

Lincoln groans his satisfaction as well, leaning back into his stool when he’s finished. “Damn. That was so good.”

“I might nap on this stool. Your friend would be okay with that, right?”

“Yeah, obviously.” Lincoln stretches his arms over his head and folds his hands behind the base of his neck. “A good bartender is always looking to have her guests fall asleep at the bar.”

“Okay good,” Lexa answers with a sleepy smile and suppresses an actual yawn with the back of her hand.

“What are you up to for the rest of your day?”

“This meal has completely erased any prior motivation to workout. My couch sounds pretty nice right now.”

The sun is setting and the streetlamps have begun to flicker on along the cobblestreet outside the restaurant windows.

“Not gonna go lurking outside Dockside until Clarke gets out of work?” Lincoln prompts with a teasing wink.

“Why do I feel like this was an actual tactic used on Octavia?”

“An effective tactic, you might say.”

“No,” Lexa laughs. “I’m not planning to stalk Clarke at her place of business, you creep.”

“Suit yourself,” Lincoln shrugs. “If you need any tips, I’m just sayin’.”

Lexa’s laughter is more of a cackle, lost in the increasing din of the Sunday evening bar crowd. “I think I’m all set. Thanks.”

“Oh okay, here we go—two beers later, she is confidence personified.”

Taylor returns to collect their empty plates, and Lincoln, practically gleeful, seizes on an opportunity to embarrass Lexa in a public setting.

“Taylor, help me out here—first kisses with relative strangers versus first kisses with a friend-turned-something-more. Generally speaking, which one makes you more nervous?”

“Why?” Taylor grins, bracing herself across from them with both hands grasping to the edge of the bar top. “Is one of you about to ask me to makeout?”

Lexa smothers a mortified oh-my-god against the palms of her hands where she has covered her face.

“No, no,” Lincoln laughs while shaking his head. “Like I would ever do anything to get Toni on my bad side—your girlfriend might be more intimidating than Octavia.”

“She’s gonna love hearing that,” Taylor smiles.

“The thing is, Lexa here—”

“Would love the check,” Lexa interjects, pinning Lincoln with her most threatening glare while her cheeks still burn warmly. “And, for reasons yet unclear to me, I’ll take Lincoln’s too. You can put us on the same tab.”

“You got it,” Taylor chuckles, and strides off to the kitchen with their empty dishes.

As Lexa signs the tab, leaving an exorbitant tip to somehow assuage her own embarrassment as well as fulfill an unspoken creed between service industry workers, Lincoln warmly grabs her shoulder.

“Thanks. This was a great way to spend my otherwise very boring Sunday while O is stuck at work.”

“Lucky for you, my Sunday plans were also foiled.”

“So glad we could be each other’s second fiddle,” Lincoln grins.

Lexa returns his familiar smile. “Anytime.”

They bundle back into their coats and hats and gloves before Lincoln waves and shouts a quick farewell to Taylor from across the bar. As they push through the front entryway back out into the cold and wind and lightly dusted snowy sidewalk, Lincoln wraps an arm around Lexa’s shoulder and hugs her closer.

“Thanks again—you didn’t have to pick up the tab, buddy.”

“Think of it as your belated Christmas present. Besides, you basically always pay whenever we hang out. I owe you.”

For the drinks and food, yes. But, Lexa also feels indebted to Lincoln’s unending kindness and patient listening as everything between she and Clarke has unfolded.

“You don’t owe me anything, but that food does make for a great belated Christmas present.”

“Well, it’s not pumpernickel bagels and pimento cream cheese, but,” Lexa shrugs, looking up to catch Lincoln’s eye just as his expression creases painfully.

“Aw man, did you have to bring up the pimento cream cheese?!”

Lexa laughs and savors the warmth of Lincoln’s broad frame close beside her.

:::

Sometime between the distance of Lincoln’s apartment, where they had parted after a smothering hug, and Lexa’s front entryway, her phone buzzes from within her coat pocket. When she sees Clarke’s name as the incoming call, she removes a glove with her teeth and swipes to answer.

“Hey.” It’s so cold now that the sun has set, her breath is frozen in puffs, but the anticipation of hearing Clarke’s voice builds a warmth deep in her stomach. “How are you?”

“Oh my god, I’m so tired,” Clarke whimpers.

Always so dramatic.

Still, she has sympathy for Clarke’s long and tiresome hours of unexpected work over the weekend. Lexa shuffles across an empty crosswalk, hurrying towards her street as other pedestrians bustle past in bulky winter wear. “Sorry you’ve been stuck there for two days.”

“I was prepared for Saturday. Today has kicked my ass. Where are you? It sounds windy. Oh my god, please tell me you aren’t running in this weather.”

Lexa laughs as she reaches her apartment and searches for her keys while keeping her phone pinned against her shoulder. “I’m walking home from grabbing food and drinks with Lincoln.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry, my brain is fried. Drinks and food sound so nice right now,” Clarke practically whines.

Lexa pushes into the warmth of the stairwell and begins to take the stairs to her apartment. “Seeing Lincoln was really nice, although it was you I was hoping to share a meal with today.”

“Were you?”

She can hear Clarke better now as she unlatches the locks of her apartment’s front door and steps inside a quiet, darkened room. She smiles shyly at Clarke’s surprised delight and lightly clears her throat.

“Yes.”

“And what did these plans entail?”

Lexa used to wonder constantly about Clarke’s intentions—whether or not she was consciously aware of the provocative ring to her voice. Presently, Lexa requires no translation: Clarke’s flirtation is unmistakable.

“I wanted to take you out for brunch.”

“I would have loved that.” Clarke sounds beyond charmed, and Lexa’s entire face warms.

“That’s—that’s good to know,” she responds, exhaling shakily at Clarke’s belated acceptance to a date they never got to have.

“I had brunch plans for us today too!”

“Oh yeah?” Lexa’s intrigue instantly distracts from her spike of nerves.

“Yes! They involved homemade waffles and really nice prosecco I absconded with the last time I left my mom’s and, most importantly, not being at work for over nine hours.”

Lexa clicks on a nearby lamp and shuffles out of her coat but does not bother to remove her absurd winter hat. The idea of Clarke making plans for them—specifically plans that involve home-cooked meals and sharing bubbly wine in Clarke’s home—sets Lexa’s stomach fluttering as she collapses onto her sofa.

“Well, for future reference, I’d be up for drinking prosecco with you any time, appropriated or otherwise.”

“This is good information to have.”

Lexa cozies into the couch cushions at the sound of Clarke’s laugh, wishing desperately that they were sat side by side, filling each other in on their day. She might weave her fingers into Clarke’s hair to help her relax or pull Clarke’s legs into her lap to massage her calf muscles after a long shift at the bar.

“How was your afternoon with Lincoln?”

“He was very upset about being excluded from the New York bagel delivery.”

More of Clarke’s laughter broadens the small smile on Lexa’s mouth. “They were indeed very enviable bagels.”

“I’m glad you liked them. We’ll have to get more sometime.”

A pregnant beat in which Clarke doesn’t immediately respond has Lexa’s heart racing. “In New York?”

The insinuation of taking Clarke to Brooklyn is lightyears ahead of asking her to brunch, and Lexa scrambles to backtrack her overzealous suggestion while pulling her stupid hat over her eyes. “I, um—I didn’t mean—”

“Lexa, I’m sorry—ugh,” Clarke grunts in frustration. “I have to go help one of our servers with something.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. I’ll let you go,” Lexa fumbles to say, grateful that Clarke’s endless string of responsibilities has saved her from more useless stuttering.

“Can I call you when I’m finished here? If it’s not too late?”

Lexa sits up and finally removes her hat. “Call me whenever.”

“Okay.” Lexa can hear the grin in Clarke’s response and indulges in one of her own. “Oh, and if the invitation still stands, I would go with you to New York any time, with or without the promise of bagels.”

Lexa cannot stop smiling. She doesn’t even try.

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #a pleasant undoing #brewkru!#clexa fic

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crushedbyhyperbole · 5 years ago

Text

Promises - Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: Tony Stark's wine cooler suffers neglect as Bucky bails on work to rush back to Izzy. Visiting her twice in the same day? Their FIRST day? Bucky is in deep, and no amount of emotional hurt is going to stop him from giving her what she needs. Little does he know that she is just as stuck as he is.

Warnings: Sex, Smut, bit of foul language, more sex, bit of angst. Pretty much gratuitous smut. 18+ only please!

PROMISES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | MOBILE MASTERLIST

Belated Prologue Part 7 – Second Audition

Bucky got back to his apartment with just enough time to shower and get ready for work. All the ride home he thought about Izzy, replaying in his head every look and every sound right down to her soft breathing as she slept. He decided to shoot her a quick text just so she didn’t think he’d bailed on her for a bad reason.

[Buck] Hey, sorry I had to leave for work. You were comatose – cute, by the way. Let me know when you’re up so I know you’re ok after the best sex of your life. I’m gonna assume I passed the first audition? 😉

Bucky didn’t know whether he was overstepping or not but they both had a friendship that was full of mockery and jibes so he figured he was safe. He didn’t know if it was ok to talk about what had happened, they didn’t cover it in the rules so he was just going to feel it out. He wanted to tell her she was wonderful and that he’d not felt like that with anyone else, which was the god’s honest truth. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful and sexy, and that he wanted her in whatever capacity she was willing to give herself to him. He wanted to be with her but couldn’t tell her any of it.

His night at work dragged by, despite being busy. Saturday nights were always packed, even after people started making their way to the night clubs. Stark’s was open until 1am Friday and Saturday but 11pm every other night unless there was a special occasion like a birthday party or late night sports event that was covered on pay-per-view.

Bucky kept checking his phone. He’d sigh, irritated, when he received a text that wasn’t from Izzy. So that was basically all of them up until about 10 past midnight.

His heart jumped when he saw her name flash up on his phone.

[Izzy] Yeah, I’d tell you it was more than alright but I wouldn’t want your head to get any bigger lol.

[Izzy] And no being a creeper! Watching people sleep is for perverts and serial killers.

[Buck] I never said I wasn’t a pervert 😉

Bucky felt relieved. The casual teasing was a sign that everything was just fine between them. He tried to put his mind on the job but found he kept most of his attention on the device in his pocket, the slightest sensation against his leg and he was whipping it out to check if she’d replied.

He was putting together drinks for the last order of the night before he rang the bell for ‘time’ when his phone went crazy in his pocket; a phone call. Hurriedly garnishing the cocktails and presenting the order he rushed the customer away.

He clanged the bell loud enough to wake the dead.

“Time at the bar!”

Then he was checking his phone.

1 Missed Call. 1 Message.

It was Steve.

[Steve] You still coming clubbing after your shift? Me and the boys are in Ikon. Let me know.

He was about to reply to Steve to tell him he’d be there by 2am when another text from Izzy came through.

[Izzy] I think you broke me lol x

[Izzy] I’m not broken enough that I can’t go again though 😉 If you’re free after work? X

Holy shit! So soon? Bucky practically punched the air in jubilation. He replied to Izzy immediately but decided to leave his reply to Steve until he was actually leaving work.

[Buck] Sure thing, doll. I’ll stop by my place for a few things first. Be about an hour x

[Izzy] I’ll be waiting. X

Bucky was already getting that pre-aroused feeling low between his hips. Just the thought of being with her had his head all messed up. He broke 2 glasses as he rushed to clear up and forgot to stock the wine cooler before he left. Tony, who lived above the bar called after him as Bucky almost launched himself out of the side door.

“Does my wine cooler offend you or sum’thin? What am I paying you for here?” Tony grumbled

“I’ll get it in the morning.” Bucky stopped, turning back he gave the man a beseeching look.

“That skirt better be worth it.”

Bucky grinned, shrugging on his jacket. “She is.” He laughed and made a dash for the door.

He drove like crazy to his place, changed his t-shirt, sprayed some deodorant, grabbed a handful of condoms and a pack of gum and left. He drove like crazy the few blocks to Izzy’s place too and she buzzed him in with the kind of haste like she’d been waiting on him.

“Hey!” She said when she opened the door to him. “You got here quick. How was work?”

As soon as she opened the door it was only going to go one way. She’d bathed and was all wrapped up in a fluffy bath robe, her hair was damp still and scrunched up on a messy bun. Her skin looked radiant and the dimmed lights in the lounge were almost certainly purposefully low. When he laid eyes on her he knew there was no way they were going to make it to the bedroom.

She had turned and padded barefoot into the lounge, leaving him to close the door behind himself but when he didn’t reply she turned with a frown.

Bucky was almost certain he looked crazed at that moment. He kicked the door shut with his heel and was on her in a second, herding her backwards against the breakfast bar.

“Everything okay, Bucky?” Her eyes were wide with concern.

“James.” He ground out, tugging the belt of her bath robe until it came loose.

Izzy was quick to catch on, she smirked with satisfaction, and gave him a shit-eating grin when he got the robe open and saw what she was wearing underneath.

He groaned, rolling his eyes up to the heavens in such a show of supplication that she couldn’t contain her smugness.

“Izzy…” He sighed, pushing the rob off her shoulders to fully expose the black and red lace lingerie set she wore. The balconette bra pushed her breasts out perfectly, the lace sheer enough he could see her nipples. The panties were a thong and also sheer. Sheer enough for him to see that she’d shaved everything.

“Call me Bella.” She took a cue from him, asking to be called by something other than what they normally called each other.

It suited her, especially seeing her like this, all sultry and dressed to seduce. Bucky wasted no time cupping her breasts and squeezing them firmly. He stepped closer, forcing her to arch backward over the counter, pushing her hips forward against his.

“Fuck, Bella…” Bucky moaned into the valley between her breasts, squeezing them around his face, massaging them while he circled her nipples through the lace with his thumbs.

Trailing his tongue up the clean skin of her chest, he latched his mouth on the delicate spot above her clavicle and sucked.

Izzy recoiled, pushing him away with a nervous giggle.

Bucky searched her face for a brief moment before lowering his head and teasing the same spot with his tongue. Izzy obviously didn’t want to be marked. Bucky didn’t mind if she claimed him, but he’d never be able to tell anyone it was her mark on his neck.

“No hickeys. Check.” He mused as he shifted his attention to her legs, hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her until her legs were wrapped around his hips.

His moment of looking at her in awe and exploring the new imagery of her lingerie, was over. The breakfast bar was too high but the stools were not. He deposited her roughly on the black varnished wood seat and shrugged his leather jacket off.

Izzy helped him, by unbuckling his belt as he dropped the jacket on the floor. Soon she was reaching into the open front of his jeans and taking his cock in her hand. He had been hard by the time she’d opened the door to him, anticipation built up until all he could think about was how she felt when he was buried in her to his balls.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, but you know that already don’t you, James?”

He nodded and bit his lip, watching her stroke him. The intense pleasure combined with the slight thrill of seeing himself in her hand as she teased him with her thumb, spreading his pre-come around the tip and under to where his frenulum was pulled tight, was intoxicating.

Bucky pushed his jeans and shorts down to his knees, pulling the condoms out of his pocket as he did so. He dropped them on the counter, save for two; one of which he tucked into the cup of her bra, the other he rolled onto himself with practiced ease.

“You walking alright after this afternoon?” He asked, breathy from her teasing.

She smirked. “Pretty much.” Her light but bashful chuckle told him otherwise.

“Well, you won’t be after this.”

He pulled her thong aside and buried two fingers in her straight away, earning him a startled gasp. She gripped his shoulders hard and her legs twitched where they were loosely wrapped around his hips. He curled his fingers ruthlessly, repeating the stroking motion against the softness of her g-spot while he worked her clit with his thumb.

Earlier today had been an exercise in control, a chance for him to show her that he could draw out her pleasure indefinitely, make her feel amazing for more than just a few moments. Now, with her clinging to him as he relentlessly broke her down, he was here to show her his masculinity, and how much he wanted her.

Bucky worked her with his hand until the very second he felt her start to come. He pulled his hand free and grabbed her hips, burying his cock in her all the way and stilled, fingers now only working her clit as she cried out and came around his sold shaft that stretched her almost painfully.

“Ohhhh, God!” She cried out, scrabbling to pull him closer, clutching the front of his t-shirt in a death grip.

She felt exquisite, spasming and pulsing around him. Her gasps were half laughs through the disbelieving grin she wore.

Bucky began to move, long slow strokes, pulling out almost to the tip and sliding home with a powerful but controlled thrust. Gradually increasing the speed and forcefulness, he held onto the backrest of the stool with both hands and used it as leverage to fuck her harder and faster. She was already reaching the edge of another orgasm, losing the strength in her legs so they slipped down off his hips.

He tucked his forearms under her knees and gripped the chair again. She was so exposed now and he could see himself spreading her open, each thrust tugging against her labia, the pink flesh becoming more and more flushed as he ravaged her.

“Shit! Bu-.” She choked on his name.

Whether she realised and stopped herself, or whether she just couldn’t get the words out it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the tight pleasure of her clenching around him and the ragged gasping breaths that tore from her throat as she came again, hard enough for tears.

Bucky slowed as she came, pushing her gently through the pleasure, giving her just enough to keep it alive so it wouldn’t just be an intense blinding flash of ecstasy. He’d almost came then too. The sight of her coming undone, seeing himself sliding in and out of her, his sheathed cock glistening with her arousal.

Sweet Jesus!

With his arms still hooked under her knees he picked her up and walked her to the sofa where he lowered himself to the cushions, still buried inside her.

Izzy looked at him then, like he might be a little crazy.

“Who are you and where have you been all my finding Mr Wrong life?” She laughed, giddy and flushed from her release. She had no way of knowing that her words had cut him deep.

His eyes watered to the point he had to close them. It hurt. He was insanely happy but it hurt like a shotgun blast to the chest, he should know, he’d had one. A Kevlar vest was the only thing between him and death. The pain was unreal, and right now he’d take that again if it would only replace this new pain, this fresh hell.

How could he tell her he’d always been here? That he’d been waiting for her. Always waiting for her. He’d promised himself he’d never burden her with his feelings, and now they had rules. He was bound twice by his word to keep all of this inside.

“Ride me.” He gasped as the pain began to sap his arousal. “Use me. Fuck me. I want you to ruin me.” He practically begged her.

And she did, pulling him down by his hair, she smothered him in her cleavage as she began to grind herself on him. She made him forget her words and forget the tears he’d almost spilled. She made him forget he was Bucky Barnes, the man who had loved her since he was just a boy, the man who left his life behind to join the army because he couldn’t bear to be without her, the man who would live every day of his life by her side only in friendship if that was what she needed.

In those moments, there with her taking her pleasure from him, he was only James. An abstract concept of a man, a fantasy, all bravado and cocksurety. He lived each moment to enjoy it and the pleasure they shared. This was the distance he needed, to almost be someone else with her like this.

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back as she began to peak. He was swollen and riding the line between pleasure and pain where he’d kept himself until she was ready to come. There on the cusp he waited, needing only the tiniest of pushes, a feather stroke of something different to pull his focus away from control and fully into the path of the freight train that was threatening to plough through him.

“James!” Her sigh was like a chorus of angels. She was so close, he could see her working for it, struggling to find her release.

With shaking fingers he reached and lightly pinched one of her nipples through the lace of her bra, then harder, twisting it in his grip.

Falling forward with a gasp that morphed into a low guttural moan, she climaxed. Her last act before she began to slow was to return the favour. She pinched his nipple hard and tugged on it until he twitched deep inside her and spilled with a cry that was part pain and part pleasure.

Bucky’s thrusts fell away and they both sat panting, sweaty and dumbstruck, his hands idle by his sides. He couldn’t touch her. He was too raw emotionally, right then.

“Christ! I need to pee.” She laughed and tried to stand, legs wobbling as she climbed off him and staggered away.

Externally he laughed, she was adorable and funny, but inside he was numb. He thought he could do this, the no-strings sex thing. Not with her, he realised too late.

Bucky pulled off the condom and tied it off, dropping it on the coffee table.

“Drink?” Izzy walked past the sofa and went to the kitchen.

“Just water, is fine. Thanks.”

“You gonna tell me about work now?” Her question seemed too domestic now, too weird.

“Not with you dressed like that.” He snorted a breath out nasally.

“Right, right, sorry!” She grabbed the robe and covered herself.

Bucky was shifting his hips on the sofa, already pulling up his jeans and tucking himself away.

“I think it’s best to keep friendzone conversations separate from the sex stuff.”

Izzy looked at him sat there frowning at her and she must’ve known what it was that had gotten under his skin. Her face grew worried as she passed him the glass of water.

He downed it.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I said crossed the line. I guess I didn’t realise how it sounded when it came out.” She looked sad and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel guilty.

“Yeah, we can’t get caught up in that happily ever after stuff if you want to keep to the rules.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair. He did that when he was tired, nervous, stressed, self-conscious, among other things.

“Scared you’ll break Rule 3?” She teased.

Goddamnit! Why was she torturing him?

“Are you?” His voice was as flat as he could make it, and he stood up to create some space between them. “It’s a rule for a reason, is it not?”

She’d set that rule. He already had feelings and for her to fall for him was his ideal situation. But she obviously didn’t want it that way. She just wanted him for the sex.

“Sorry.” She looked tired all of a sudden. “I’ll do better next time. If you want there to be a next time?”

What was he supposed to say? Yes, he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted to be her every time.

“Yeah, okay.” Bucky sighed heavily.

“Thanks, Buck.” She smiled, almost relieved.

She was his kryptonite. His main vice. But also the thing that kept him ticking. It was wrong to say she was his raison d’etre but she was pretty close. Promises and rules, that’s what kept this thing together, like a fucking band aid to hold together a fractured but priceless Ming dynasty vase. If it had to be, it had to be. It wasn’t like he wasn’t getting almost everything he’d ever wanted for his whole adult life so far.

“Bucky?”

“I need a fucking smoke.” He scooped up his jacket and pulled it on. “I’ll be back. Don’t fall asleep, and don’t get changed.” He gave her a crooked smile and a wink.

“Ohhh! God dayum!” She blushed hard. “Okay.”

#bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes fanfic #friends to lovers #marvel fanfic #smut #fanfic smut #cloudy's writing #promises

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klarolinedrabbles · 5 years ago

Note

What are some of the tvd to fandoms greatest hits so to speak... I was only in it for a short time and then jumped out because I couldn't stand to

Oh, well allow me to be your guide. This will be under a read more because I already know, I’m gonna write a whole essay. Shout out to my ride or die @hellsbellschime.

I don’t think any overtly crazy happened during the good!TVD years. No wait, I’m lying.

The year the spin-off got announced, I believe it was tvguide, that posted an article with like info tidbits for currently airing shows. And one of them, was that Hayley was pregnant with Klaus’ kid. I remember this shit so clearly, man. Everyone was so confused. And then they were like SURPRISE, APRIL FOOLS. Because it was in fact April 1st. So ha-ha we all had a laugh, great. Fastforward to what, late April? Episode 4x20 airs, and it’s exactly what happened???

That whole day btw, the day the backdoor pilot for TO aired was just insanity. I’ll say that about a lot of days in this answer, but that day was really just something else. Like we were delirious, that’s the only way I can explain what happened on here. It was a nightmare but also one of the funniest night’s I’ve ever spent on here. I gotta go back for old time’s sake and reblog some of the shit from that night because we all snapped. And not in the good way.

The TVD 100th. Now, we knew Joseph was coming back for that episode so they hype was real. Because up until that point, we’d gotten a huge load of nothing in regards to Klaroline. They released a trailer, a short one, that’s still in my favorites folder on youtube to this day. I rewatch it all the time because it’s iconic. And there was literally .002 seconds of Klaroline. It’s Caroline standing and then Klaus says “hello, caroline” and everyone lost their shit so much when it dropped that ‘hello caroline’ trended ww on twitter.

THE DAY THE NETWORK THAT AIRED TVD IN AUSTRALIA AIRED A PROMO WITH THE KLAROLINE KISS IN 5X11. ICONIC. I literally woke up, logged on at around 11 AM my time, and my dashboard was on fire. It was the BEST. We didn’t know wtf to do, it was amazing.

Paleyfest. Ohhhh buddy, lemme tell ya. So TVD/TO got chosen to have the CW panel’s at Paleyfest that year. Everyone was on a bit of edge because TO to that point was what, almost done with S1 and Klaroline had been given the mega cold-shoulder despite being the very thing other than the Mikaelson’s that got used to lure people in? After the pregnancy plot from hell, everyone was ready to peace tf out, but we got halted because it was a ‘ohh of course it’s gonna continue’ then they tried to nip Klaroline in the bud with 5x11 and no one was having it. So Paleyfest was where we were gonna get some ANSWERS, DAMMIT. I live on the east coast and the festival was held in the west coast so I wasn’t awake when it was happening. I remember making a post about how ‘going to sleep, and hoping when I woke up the answers were good.’. So I went to sleep, woke up a few hours later like 2-3 AM my time, and checked my blog and the first message I had was ‘don’t wake up stephanie, everything is a mess, stay asleep where everything’s fine’ I—

The gist of that was, they basically set JoMo up to be the bad-cop in shutting down Klaroline. He gave this long answer that made absolutely zero sense. The girl who asked the question about Klaroline, who was like 13 at the time, got called a bully for even asking a question at an event she paid to be at. A mess. And JP was like NO CROSSOVERS, ORGANIC, BLAH BLAH. And Paul was sitting next to her going “why can’t the show’s just intersect”, he was right and he said it.

I can’t remember if this was S1 or S2, but somebody tweeted something and Carina replied ‘when you’re found dead in your basement with klaroline written on you this is why’ or something like that, that was a ~fun~ night. And then like half an hour later she was like “I’m sorry, I’ll never tweet about Klaroline again just leave me alone” if you’ve ever seen this fandom refer to ourselves as basement dwellers, this night is why.

NARDUCCI. Can’t forget him. Talk about a man who just didn’t get it. And I don’t mean Klaroline, he just didn’t get anything, nothing in his head has ever clicked, I’m convinced. He used to pick fights on twitter repeatedly. Admitted once that he missed his flight because he was on twitter…arguing with a fan. AND ONE DAY, he decided to just—snap. Went on this hours long tirade against the Klaroline fandom, essentially calling everyone stupid because no one was appreciating the ‘art’ of the show. So when I say it lasted hours, I mean that. Now, you’d think, that he would be done, right? WELL, apparently that wasn’t enough, so the next day, he continued. I remember because I was in this gc on whatsapp, and I remember Erika sending a message to the gc going “omg, Narducci vs KCers round 2″ when I tell you I screamed. The man went on a two-day rampage against this fandom and it was insane.

S6/S2 of TVD/TO was not a fun time. I can genuinely say it was borderline a chore to come on here during that time. It wasn’t fun, every day someone was in argument with someone from production on twitter. Truly the worst year of the fandom, imo. So S7/S3 rolls around and that’s where shit went nuclear.

Hillary and I, are minding our own damn business, when someone come’s to us with information regarding the new seasons. This was post-SDCC, so it’s like the lull of September, waiting for the seasons to start in October. And we get approached with information, talkin bout how Caroline’s gonna be pregnant with Alaric’s twins in S7. When I tell you we didn’t know wtf to do. And we had to like wait on confirmation about it but then we found out it was legit and we were pissed. Literally ask us if we wanted to be in the spoiler game, the answer is no tf we did not. And she and I basically spent two days complaining. LIKE UGHHHH WE DON��T WANNA DO THIS, BUT ALSO THIS IS DISGUSTING, WE CAN’T JUST LET THEM SPRING THIS ON EVERYONE, BUT AGHH WHY US. So we chose collectively, as a duo, because das my other half yo, to blab.

That went over as best as anyone could hope for it to go. Now, flashforward yet again, this time to around late Novemeber/December. I had been sent word that something was going down. TVD/TO lost their Thursday slots and got bumped to Friday’s, so a plan was going on, and they made one. We’d heard that they were rearranging something mid-season because they were gonna make a crossover work, publicly we found out it would be Paul and JoMo that crossover back-to-back. THEN ONE NIGHT—I call it black friday bc that day was a fucking mess—, a friend of mine was friends with an SCer, I wanna say, and she was hearing word that the crossover did have Klaus and Caroline interact via phone call, but that it was very definitively an ending. Because they spoke about Camille and Stefan, etc, etc. Like a closing of the book type thing. So okay, we were like devastated, everyone on twitter was losing their shit. Everyone was pissed, and @-ing the writers all these crazy, sad things, we were a wreck. Ask Hillary about this night because she, I remember, describes it as ‘logging on and reading what everyone else had and not understanding why tf everyone was mad about it’. It was the first and last time that our roles were reversed, and bless her for it.

SO WE’RE SITTING THERE, it’s Saturday, and we kept getting more information and we were like…something isn’t right here. So we did a bit of digging, spoke to a few people and waited it out. LO AND BEHOLD, everything we’d heard about the phone call was false. There was a phone call but the CKers and SCers were so mad about what was actually said in it, that a few of em, ring leaders of the feeble minded, made up a version and passed it around their fandoms as legit till it eventually worked it’s way over to us. So we all jumped the gun on fake information, lmfskdnknsks. Rumor has it, you can still hear Hillary yelling ‘I told you so’ at me through our group chat.

So all was well, I couldn’t tell everyone why not to panic, just that they didn’t need to. Until, this account popped up called tvdspoiler or something on twitter, also saying false information about the phone call. Sending everyone into a panic yet again. I remember this because I was at kmart with my mom, and the kmart by my house was in a basement so I had no cell service. I was able to send like a couple of messages, and was basically like ‘tell everyone to chill, I’ll clear it up when I get home’ did that in like a couple of hours cause then I had to leave to the midnight showing of the force awakens with my friends. So that day was chaotic, but fun. It was the first time I reached 99+ messages on my inbox, lmao.

So that all happened like a good while before we actually saw the episode. But cut to a few weeks later. I woke up at 1 AM my time to drink water, was on tumblr trying to go back to sleep. I checked my inbox and there was this bizarre message talking about ‘got some scoop’ and they were like ‘Finn dies in 3x17, Aurora gets put into some weird sleeping spell in 3x18, Camille and Davina die in 3x19, Lucien dies in 3x20′ and I quite literally laughed??? Literally who wouldn’t. Like who tf would ever believe TO had the balls to do all of that when they never killed anyone off. AND, WHO WOULD BELIEVE THAT SOMEONE WOULD JUST STOP BY, SHARE IT AND LEAVE. So I sent a screenshot to Hillary and was like ‘yo did you get this because wtf’. We often got duplicate messages. And we often got messages of people who were pissed about the two previous times we, from the klaroline fandom of all places, had legit info that wound up being true, that they were just waiting for us to fuck up. So we used to get messages of people pretending they were sharing info, and it was just antis trying to make us look stupid.

SO, Hillary says ‘just answer it because it’s obviously fake’ top ten moments before disaster. I answer it and am like oh haha, and where did that info come from. And they came back like a minute later, saying ‘I have a source’ THEN THEY ELABORATED. They mentioned that Lucien drags Freya and Vincent to Mystic Falls to do this spell with some bullet and etc. So at that point we were like fUCK because that same day we’d found out was in 3x16, which ended with Lucien and this white-oak bullet, having kidnapped Freya. And that’s when we knew, that someone showed up in the middle of the night, spoiled the whole back-half of TO S3—and then left.

The back-half of S3 was so fun??? Every week the info just kept coming true. On the wikia everyone hated me, probably the most anti messages I ever had was during that time, honestly it was great, 10/10 would recommend.

THEN, at some point in our blog history, Hillary had been getting quite a few messages about PT. And she had this fucking line in one of the messages about Phoebe’s pronunciation with her accent for the show, or lack thereof. And she said “weeches and woves will always have a place in my heart” SO THEM PHOEBE TWEETED IT. THAT EXACT LINE, and we were like was she...? So we shrugged off okay. A few days later, she tweeted “hellsbellschime enough, there’s plenty of other things to watch on tv, I hear mad men’s great.” And I—

THIS WAS ON SOME RANDOM ASS SUNDAY. Like I was lounging around, waiting for the new episode of game of thrones and then WHAM, chaos. AND AS IF THAT WASNT ENOUGH, Leah joined in too. Putting a target on my friends back...about her blog that no one was making them read. You can’t make that shit up. And Jenn actually replied to Phoebe’s tweet and got a reply back, and she was all “you’re right, I’m sorry” and then deleted the original tweet, which I still have a screenshot of btw. And then Leah showed up in Hillary’s inbox with this ridiculous three part ask about how she shouldn’t criticize women in the acting industry because of how hard it is for women in that industry which is true, but it doesn’t make you exempt from criticism??? So not sure where she meant to go with that one.

SO THERE WE HAVE IT, our fandom’s greatest hits. I’m sure I can elaborate and insert more, but I’ve been typing for a good 40 minutes.

Told ya, I wrote a whole dissertation, lmaooo.

#Stephanie talks fandom #klaroline #Anonymous

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marvel-lously · 5 years ago

Text

Bittersweet Revenge

Words:4.8K

Genre:fluff with a tiny bit of angst and some good old family drama

A/N: Heyo, I’m finally back! I am so sorry I’ve barely posted any fics lately and I am so grateful for all of you who still stick with me. I got the idea for this story quite a while ago, but I’ve only just had the time to finish it now because being a senior in high school really be like that sometimes. Anyways I’ve got quite a few things in mind for the next part, so let me know if you want me to continue it. Now I know this has been said many times before, but, if you like my story please reblog and comment. It means so much and it really encourages and motivates me to write more.

I love you all and I really hope you enjoy reading this!

»C'mon Y/n, you have to go to this party with me!« Your best friend begged you.

It was Friday night and you lay sprawled on a two-seat, mindlessly staring at the ceiling while trying to ignore the events of the past week.

»No, no I really don’t actually, in fact, I don’t have to go anywhere, so please, just let me wallow in self pity, while I watch some stupid rom-com and eat a pint of ice cream, AT HOME.« You protested, annoyed with how persistent she was.

»No, Y/n, stop it right now. I won’t let you do that, you know I won’t. They don’t deserve your heartbreak and they certainly don’t deserve your tears, so please, just go with me. I promise you’ll have fun, plus, you never know, you might even meet somebody.« She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively while you simply rolled your eyes at her statement.

»Seriously? You think I’ll go to a place full of sweaty, drunk people to get hit on by a bunch of guys who’ll barely be able to remember their own names, nevermind mine and who will only be flirting with me because it’s convenient, not for actually taking an interest in me?« You snorted in disbelief.

»Wow, you really have taken it upon yourself to be miserable today, haven’t you?« She sighed, crossing her arms in dissatisfaction.

»Well, I try.« You feigned a smile.

»Okay, how about I promise to make you coffee every morning for the rest of your stay here?« She tried, knowing that you would go as far as to sell your own soul to satan just to get a cup of coffee when you wake up.

Coffee was basically your life fuel and her idea was tempting, but you had a really bad day and an even worse week and a cup of coffee just wasn’t going to cut it this time. You scrunched your nose in contemplation, letting out a doubtful hum.

»Ugh, you’re impossible! Fine, I will let you wear my favourite dress for your cousin’s wedding, if you just please come to this party with me.« She sounded exasperated.

You finally perked up at her suggestion.

»So… I get a cup of coffee every morning for the next three weeks aaand I get to wear your favourite dress?« You asked, now smirking.

»Yes, will you please go now?« She asked, frustration evident in her voice.

»Hmm, let me think…« you pretended to still be considering her offer, although you have already made up your mind »fine, I’ll go to your stupid party.«

»Yes!« She started jumping joyfully. »Oh and it’s not some stupid party, it’s the best party in London and darling, you’re going back home in three weeks and I’m just worried that you’re not gonna get the full experience while you’re here.« She smiled cheekily.

»Ha ha Y/b/f/n, really, hilarious. I’m here on praxis remember? If that doesn’t do for the full experience of London life, then I don’t know what does.« You chuckled, some of your bad mood already dissolving, seeing how enthusiastic she seemed about you going.

»Eh, whatever, get dressed, I’ll do your makeup and then we can go.«

You were glad she offered to do your makeup, because other than putting your mascara on, you were completely useless with it.

When you two finally arrived, the entire place was already drowning in the amount of people and you two had to elbow your way to the counter.

»First drink’s on me!« Y/b/f/n shouted to you.

You merely gave her an anxious smile, downing your shot of tequila. After the second shot, you started to feel the effect and you could feel yourself caring less and less about the crowd, and by the fourth one, you actually started enjoying the music.

Y/b/f/n practically dragged you to the dance floor and you two started to jump around like maniacs when the 80’s music begun to play.

»Oh my god, I can’t believe they’re playing the 80’s!« You yelled, excited. You much prefered rock to techno and pop and it seemed that this club was perfect for you.

»I’m getting myself another drink, want anything?« You asked Y/b/f/n, heading back to the counter when she shook her head no.

Sipping on your pina colada, you suddenly felt someone standing behind you and immediately recognized her perfume. »Oh god no!« You thought to yourself.

»Y/n, hi, so good to see you!« Her high pitched voice somehow managed to outdo any other sound in the room.

»Hi Charon, I can’t believe I’m seeing you here.« You offered her one of your famous fake smiles, reserved especially for her, your cousin.

»Oh, yeah, you see Tim and I came here ‘cause he’s looking for a place for his bachelor’s party and he heard a few good words about this place, so here we are.« She giggled as if she’s just been told the most hilarious joke of all time. God you hated her guts.

»I think Tim should be here any moment now, he just went to the man’s room. You know, you guys should totally catch up.« She smiled innocently, as if she didn’t know she was putting daggers in your heart by merely being present.

»Abort, abort, abort!« Your mind was telling you.

»You know, I’m actually here with a friend and, uh, I should probably head back so she doesn’t get too worried.« You already started backing away, hoping to get to Y/B/f/n as soon as possible.

»Oh okay, some other time then.« She shrugged nonchalantly.

You pushed your way through to Y/b/f/n, only to see her dancing with a handsome guy. You decided to at least let her have some fun and opted to get some air instead, sending her a quick text not to worry before leaving the club through the back door.

You sat on the stairs just outside the door, playing with a straw. Why couldn’t you enjoy one single night out without her showing up and ruining your life over and over again. You wanted to cry, to scream and possibly throw something at her, but of course, you didn’t. You’d never let her see how much she really hurt you, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

»Bad day?« A husky voice interrupted your thinking.

»I’ve had better.« You mumbled incoherently, but the man somehow managed to understand, seeing as he chuckled and sat down next to you.

»I’m Tom, by the way.« He introduced himself, offering his hand.

»Y/n.« You replied, wiping your sweaty palm on your thigh and shaking his hand.

»Nice to meet you Y/n.« He smiled kindly. »So what got you in such a bad mood?«

»What, I can’t be in a bad mood just because?« You retorted, raising your brows in question.

»Sure you can, but then you wouldn’t be here. You would probably be at home, eating chips while criticizing some cliche movie that you found on a random chanel and complaining about it to your friends.« He smirked.

»True.« You said after a while, shrugging your shoulders.

»So?« He prompted.

»So… what?« You took a sip of your drink.

»So, what got you into this mood?« Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

»Why should I tell you anything? I don’t even know you.« You asked, sassiness clear in your voice.

»Well you don’t have to tell me anything, however, I think you would definitely feel better if you did.« He smiled.

»What are you, my therapist?« You snorted, almost choking on your drink in the process.

»No, doesn’t mean I’m not still trying to help and make you feel better.«

You gave him an unsure look before giving in.

»It’s my cousin.« You sighed.

»What about them?« He questioned, a wrinkle forming between his brows, confusion clear on his face.

»She’s marrying my ex.« You explained, your shoulders sinking.

»Oh, oh wow.« He said, taking a swig of his beer, trying to come up with a right response. »How long after you two broke up did they start dating?«

»Oh no, they didn’t bother waiting, my ex cheated, so basically they started going out before Tim and I even broke up, and they’re now getting married, less than five months after he officially broke up with me.« You chuckled bitterly. »And now she just had to be here to ruin my night out with a friend.« You added, taking another sip of your pina colada.

You didn’t even know why you were telling him this. I mean, he did seem like a nice guy, and a bit familiar too, was it possible you’d seen him back in the club already? Maybe it’s all just alcohol.

»Damn! Wow! Just, I don’t even know what to say except that your cousin and your ex are like the shittiest people alive.« He commented, a shocked expression on his face.

»Yeah, tell me about it.« You sighed. »What’s your story?«

»Hmm?«

»Well, you’re not inside partying either so… what’s your story?«

»What are you, my therapist?« He repeated your line from earlier, earning a chuckle from you.

»I don’t know, just, my job I guess.« He shrugged his shoulders, fidgeting.

»What about your job?« You inquired, a curious expression on your face. He seemed to be deeply troubled by this, so it couldn’t have been just a nosy colleague or a fallout with his superior.

»I have this major opportunity that would really change my career…« He trailed off.

»But?« You prompted.

»But my friend’s been trying really hard for the past year to get this same opportunity and I don’t know how he would react if I took it.«

»Yikes, that sucks mate. Maybe you could talk to him about it?« You suggested.

»And say what? Hey mate, listen I know you’ve been trying to get this job for the past year or so, but you see, they just offered it to me and I’m actually thinking about taking it, no hard feeling tho k?« He pulled on his hair in frustration.

»Yah okay, I see what you mean.« You looked to the ground, not really knowing what to say.

»Damn our lives suck.« He chuckled bitterly.

Before you could reply someone busted the door open, nearly tripping over you two.

»Move!« The man grumbled.

»Dude, you have like at least five feet of the stairs free to walk on on your left, just leave us be.« You hissed back.

»Wow, feisty are we? Don’t talk back too much babe, you don’t want to get hurt now do ya?!« The man slurred, trying to sound threatening, but nearly tripping on his own feet in the process.

»Oh really? And who’s gonna hurt me? You? Oh I’d love to see that.« You pushed his buttons.

»Okay I think that’s enough alcohol for you.« Tom said dragging you away from the man.

»What? No! Tom, let me go! Let me go, right now!« You yelled when he literally had to carry you away from the scene.

Once he thought you were far enough from the ‘charming’ man, he let you back down.

»Why did you do that? He was piss drunk, I could have taken him!« You pouted, crossing your arms.

»Yeah, you’re not in a much better condition love. You would get hurt.« Tom replied, trying to reason with you.

»Would not.« You didn’t back from your statement.

»Sure you wouldn’t.« He rolled his eyes, not really feeling like fighting with you. »Do you need a ride or do you want to go back inside?« He asked, pointing at his car, parked across the street.

You weighed your options for a moment. You really didn’t want to go back inside, not as long as there was a possibility of meeting Tim and Charon again, but you also couldn’t help yourself but think whether Tom was perhaps one of those strangers who act nice at first, but turn out to be murderers in the end. You decided that being murdered was, in fact, still better than meeting the devil’s couple, also, Tom didn’t really give off the 'murderer vibe’.

You took the passenger seat, now smelling Tom’s cologne for the first time. It was a really good cologne and you suddenly felt the need to lean closer, to get more of the intoxicating smell.

»Okay so where do you need me to take you?« Tom asked in a kind voice.

»Narrow Street.« You answered curtly.

Tom started driving and soon the combination of the passing city lights and the slow pace of the ride made you feel drowsy. Without even realizing, you fell asleep.

»Where to exactly?« Tom asked, not yet taking notice of your unconscious state.

»Y/n?« He turned to face you, only to see your head leaned on the car window, your arms falling numbly against your body.

»Y/n?« He gently shook you by the shoulder.

»Five more minutes.« You mumbled incoherently and Tom had to suppress his laughter.

»Y/n, I need to know where exactly to take you.« He tried again.

You slowly started coming to your senses.

»Just around the corner.« You told him. You really didn’t plan on taking him to your exact address, at first, but currently being too tired to care, you decided to just fuck it, if you got killed tonight, at least you didn’t have to go to your cousin’s wedding right?

»Here.« He said, stopping right in front of your entrance.

»Ah shit.« You hissed, rummaging through your handbag. »No, no, no!« You started to feel like crying.

»What is it?« Tom wondered, witnessing your sudden outburst of emotion.

»I forgot to take my key.« You sighed in frustration. »I thought I was going home with Y/B/f/n and I didn’t take my own key.« You explained.

»Well, you can try and call her?« Tom suggested.

You took your phone out, dialing your friend’s number.

»Great. Straight to voicemail.« You sighed, burying your face in your hands.

Tom was silent for a while, then, after a minute or two, he spoke up: »Okay please don’t think I’m a creep because of this, but you could come and sleep over at my place?« He fumbled nervously with the sleeves of his shirt, waiting for your response.

You weren’t going to lie, you were a bit shocked at his offer, but considering your options, there really wasn’t much point in contemplating it.

»Okay.«

»Okay?« Surprise coloured his face.

»If you’re really okay with it too, then yes, I’d like to sleep over at yours.« You offered him a nervous smile.

———————————————————————————————————–

When Tom pulled over at his place, you first thought he was joking. His house was huge, as in, almost villa huge. You only started believing it really was his house, after he unlocked the door.

»Holy shoot!« You exclaimed, seeing the beautifully furnitured inside.

»Are your parents like crazy rich or something, or how exactly are you able to afford this luxury.« You asked bluntly.

»Oh no, I’m actually a bounty hunter.« He said in the most serious tone possible.

You looked at him incredulously.

»I’m joking, obviously, jesus Y/n.« You laughed nervously.

»Hah, good joke.« You said, hoping to relieve the somewhat awkward atmosphere you’ve just created.

»No, it was a horrible joke really. I don’t know why I said that.« He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a bright pink.

»Yeah it was.« You smiled, this time sincerely. »Listen, I know you’re already offering me more than I could ever ask for, but if you don’t mind, could I borrow one of your tees? This dress is killing me and I don’t think I’d ever be able to sleep in it.«

»Yeah, no of course, let me just go to my room and get it for you.« He said, hurrying upstairs.

You took a look around. The house was beautiful, so warm and cozy, yet modern and sophisticated. There were photos hung on centre wall of the room and you were just about to go take a look at them when Tom came back, holding a grey T-shirt in his hands.

»There, I picked the most comfortable one I could find, I hope it suits you well.« He handed you the soft material.

He showed you to the bathroom so you could change,offering to get some blankets for you to sleep on the sofa in the meantime.

You took your dress off and unhooked your bra, the lush cotton of Tom’s shirt felt so much better on your skin than the tight fitting artificial leather. You washed your face with cold water, wondering what the hell were you doing in a stranger’s apartment. You seriously wanted to cry. Why didn’t you just insist on staying in, you could be at home right now, drinking hot chocolate in the company of your good old telly. Instead, you were here,standing in the bathroom of a man you did not know, gathering the courage to deal with the shit that’s happened to you. You decided to head back to the living room, you really didn’t want to get any suspicious looks from Tom.

»Wow you look miserable.« Tom outed before he could stop himself, quickly covering his mouth after he realized what he had said. »Sorry.« He added, grimacing.

»No, I happen to agree with you, although I do wonder how you would look after such an event.« You scoffed.

»I’m sorry, you’re right. I didn’t mean it like that. Want me to make you some hot cocoa? And we can watch some lousy TV while drinking it? I can’t sleep after drinking so much alcohol anyways.« He suggested.

»I’d actually like that.« You smiled, following Tom into the kitchen.

———————————————————————————————————–

»No, no, no don’t go in there. Gosh! Do you think people really are that stupid?« You asked Tom, watching how the girl in the horror movie you and Tom decided to watch entered a dark room.

»I would normally say no, but then again I’m sitting next to a girl who decided to blindly trust a stranger, willingly go to his house and drink something he made her-you know I could’ve put poison in there right?« He chuckled.

»Alright, alright.« You hit his shoulder playfully. »Although I don’t think poison is necessary in this case. I should’ve known better than to drink milk on top of alcohol.« You scrunched your nose at the unpleasant feeling in your stomach.

»Hey can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to tho.« He said, looking very nervous and a bit uncomfortable.

»Sure, go ahead.« You replied.

»Are you still in love with your ex?« He uttered, playing with a zipper on his hoodie to avoid your gaze.

You were a bit shocked by his question. Everyone who knew about the situation so far just gave you a pitiful look, changing the subject as quickly as possible. You cleared your throat before answering. »I wouldn’t say I’m still in love with him… I actually think I stopped being really in love with him even before we broke up, I uh, probably sensed something was wrong somewhere deep inside, I was just too afraid to consciously acknowledge it. I am still very hurt by what he did though and by the fact that they both have the guts to invite me to their wedding.« You laughed bitterly.

»They invited you to their wedding?!« He literally almost dropped his jaw in shock.

»Yep, and my mum won’t allow me to ditch it, lecturing me how I’d come off as weak if I don’t go and how I have to show them I’ve moved on.« You sighed.

»Well you could go and ruin her wedding if you really, truly must go, you know?«

»How? By destroying her cake? Don’t you think that’d be a bit pathetic?« You rolled your eyes.

»No, but what you could do is, you could get engaged at her wedding and ruin her big moment.« He suggested.

»And how do you propose I do that, I’m very much single at the moment.« You laughed at his incredibly ridiculous idea.

»You ask a friend of course, you make up a story about how you two met and immediately clicked and fell in love and whatnot, you know how it is in the movies, and at the wedding, instead of making a toast to the newly weds, he asks you to marry him and voila, her big moment is now yours. And what’s great about it is that you don’t have to go through with it, you can keep it up for another few months and then say you decided you worked better as friends instead of lovers and the situation is solved.« He seemed very proud of his master plan.

You couldn’t help but just stare at him incredulously. »Are you serious right now? You’re not serious are you?«

»Why not? It’s a great revenge plan.«

»No, it’s a horrible revenge plan! If my family ever found out about it, they would have me disowned!« You nearly yelled now.

»So, you don’t let them find out! It’s not that difficult!« He contradicted.

»Yes, it is. Especially if your parents already know all your friends! Who would I even ask? You?« You scoffed, laying back on the sofa, defeated.

“Maybe?” He now sounded much less confident. Look Y/n, I was just trying to help, but clearly all I’ve done is make you even more upset, so just forget I said anything okay?« He said, genuinely sorry for making you feel bad.

»It’s fine. I’m sorry, it’s been a rough week and I just don’t feel like dealing with it all yet.« You apologized, covering your face with your hands and sighing in frustration.

»Hey, it’s all good, honestly. Do you wanna watch this movie and bet who gets killed next?« He challenged, wiggling his eyebrows.

»Sure, what’s the prize for the winner?« You asked, intrigued by the idea.

Tom seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before answering. »Okay so I have this huge chocolate bar in the kitchen, so how about whoever makes the best guesses, gets the entire bar-sharing is completely up to the winner.« He suggested, offering his hand for you to shake.

»It’s a deal.« You shook his hand firmly.

You two spend about another hour watching the film, shouting at the TV and yelling frustratingly at the characters’ choices. You won somehow, but for some unknown reason you ended up doing shots instead of eating the promised chocolate bar, each having to do as many shots as wrong guesses, and although your number was considerably smaller than Tom’s, things you remembered happening after that were a bit blurry…

———————————————————————————————————–

You woke up, feeling like you were about to ignite from how hot you were. You wanted to move, but you found yourself unable to do so, seeing as someone’s hand was wrapped around your upper body.

»Holy shit!« Your heartbeat fastened. »Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!« You thought to yourself. How could you let this happen? Tom lay naked behind your back, wearing nothing but his boxers, and somehow you ended up not wearing any underwear under his T-shirt. Carefully, you lifted Tom’s arms, slowly wiggling your way away from him. Standing up, you finally took a note of the mess you two made last night. Yours and Tom’s clothes were all strewn carelessly on the floor, along with crisps’ wraps, empty, plastic shot glasses and was that a lemon peel? You miraculously managed to find your underpants in this mess quickly putting them on. You made your way to the bathroom, grateful to have correctly remembered where you left your dress. With much wiggling and jumping, you were finally able to put it back on, but your sweaty skin made it fairly difficult to move in it. You folded Tom’s shirt neatly, putting it on the washing machine. You made your way back to the living room, picking up your phone, ready for your walk of shame out of Tom’s house.

You have just closed the door, when you noticed a taxi driving down the street. You ran, still barefoot, down the driveway, hoping that the cab-driver would notice you waving at him. You got lucky, the cab stopped just in front of you and you jumped in, hoping you would never have to deal with the consequences of what happened last night. You opened your phone, ready to call Y/b/f/n to ask her if she’s already in you apartment. You nearly had a heart attack when noticing you had 40 messages and 10 missed calls from her. Shite, you must’ ve left your phone on vibrato, you usually do that because you don’t hear the phone ringing in the club anyways, but you do feel it vibrating in your pocket. Apparently though, you slept through it all. You took a deep breath before calling your friend, preparing yourself to be lectured.

»Where the fuck are you?« Came Y/B/F/N angry voice from the phone.

»Good morning to you too love.« You replied.

»Oh don’t you dare be offended Y/n, you nearly gave me a nervous breakdown, I was just about to call the police, hadn’t you called me right now. Do you have any, ANY idea how worried I was? The last message I got from you was that you went outside and then nothing, for 12 hours nothing!« She continued yelling.

Twelve hours? Shit was it really 11 am already?

»Y/b/f/n I am sorry, I really am. I ran into Charon last night and you know I can’t stomach her, so I went outside and then I met this guy, and he was about to take me back to our place, but I forgot my key because I thought I was going back home with you, and I nearly lost it at that point, but fortunately, he offered me to stay at his place, so I did and…« You were about to continue when she interrupted you.

»I’m sorry you went home with a stranger?« She asked, surprise colouring her voice. »Is this really Y/n on the phone?«

»Ha ha. Yes, I went home with him, what was I supposed to do? Sleep on the street?«

»No, it’s just… very uncharacteristic of you.« Her voice sounded calmer now. »Okay you have to tell me everything! The devil’s in the details love.«

»Oh so now that I’ve got a story you suddenly aren’t angry with me anymore?« You joked.

»No, no, I’m still mad at you, you’re just lucky I’m one of the most curious people you will ever meet in your life and my thirst for a good story overpowers my anger.« She chuckled.

»Fine, I’ll tell you everything once I get home. You are at home right?« You asked, desperate to get back to your apartment, to shower and put on something comfortable.

»Yes I am home, wait, why can’t you just tell me now?« She asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

»Because I’m in a cab and it’s an embarrassing story to tell.« You tried to explain.

»Embarrassing how?« She snickered, then after a while the realizaton seemed to hit her. »Oh my gosh, Y/n?! Did you sleep with the guy?« She asked, gasping.

»I’ll tell you, at. home.« You were a bit agitated now.

»You did! You nasty!« She laughed loudly into the phone.

»Okay, goodbye now.« You hung up, letting out a groan. She wasn’t ever going to let this go.

———————————————————————————————————–

»You bitch!« She greeted you at the door, punching your shoulder.

»Ow!« You cried out before being pulled into a bone crushing hug.

»Don’t ever scare me like that again!« She said, her voice carrying a slight tremble.

»I won’t, I promise! I am so sorry.« You said, tightening your embrace.

»Y/n? Can I tell you something?«

»Hmm?«

»Please don’t be mad, but you smell like you just spent three hours at the gym and it is not a pleasant smell.« She laughed, slowly letting go of you.

»Ugh, I know, and this dress isn’t really helping the situation either.« You laughed, relieved to be back at your place.

»Okay so how about you go take a shower, while I make us some coffee?« She proposed, already pushing you towards the bathroom.

»Yes please!«

———————————————————————————————————–

»Fuck!« She outed, mouth hanging open.

»Yep.« You took a sip of your coffee, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

»What the fuck?« She repeated, still in shock. »Okay so let me rewind that. You left with a guy you knew absolutely nothing about, except his name, and you willingly went to his house and spent a night there, got wasted with him and even slept with him?«

»No, I said I might have slept with him, I can’t really remember, all the tequila hasn’t really been good on my memory, on that note-remind me never to drink a single sip of it again…«

»I’m sorry, I thought you were joking earlier, but no, you really did the dirty with that guy.«

»Okay it’s not like I’m the first to do it with a stranger from a club,since when did you get so judgemental?!« You were a bit offended by her reaction.

»No, no I am not at all judging you, I am just really shocked because I’ve known you for years and it’s so not like you to do something like that.« She tried to reassure you.

»You promise you’re not judging me?« You asked, unsure.

»Of course not!« She leaned across the table to hug you. »How about we just spend a day in today, just the two of us? We can do face masks and catch up on Friends?«

»I’d love that.« You said, already getting up from your chair.

You had just turned the TV on, when there was a commercial for a new film called Chaos Walking.

»Holy… Y/b/f/n!« You yelled. She was still washing the cups.

»Hmm?« Her head peaked from the kitchen.

»That, that is the guy I was with last night.« You stuttered.

»She looked at the screen then at you, a laugh escaping her lips. »Yeah right, Y/n you can stop pulling my leg now.« She snorted.

»Y/b/f/n, I am not! Seriously, this is the guy I spent last night with.« You swallowed anxiously.

She stared at you, gawking.

»You slept with Tom Holland?!«

You looked at her, still in disbelief yourself. »I slept with Tom Holland?«

Tags (because I need validation): @starksparker @zophora @screamholland @peachyhollands @stardust-revengers @buckybcrnes @mandatheredpanda @parkeret @spokenforunicornism @purespidey @spidergirlwanab @ryleighisapanda @beautifullydisconnected @slut-for-fandoms @anxieteandbiscuits

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland imagine #reader insert #hollandfic #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #bittersweet revenge #mcu cast

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argylemnwrites · 5 years ago

Text

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Chapter 16

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~4000

Rating: R (language, as usual)

Summary: Friends are reunited, but Hana’s trip to NYC might not be going as she envisioned it. Meanwhile, investigations continue in Cordonia.

Author’s Note: Ehh, first half of the week is almost a Monday posting, hahaha! I’m getting better, I swear! Sorry about skipping a chapter last week, but between New Year’s, switching to a new cellphone, and an unexpected visit from a friend who lives in a different country, I was just too swamped. But hey, three chapters in four weeks is a lot better than I had been averaging.

This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Riley hadn’t meant her question to sound so harsh, but she was just caught very off guard. Hana was probably the last person she expected to walk into this bar. Well, no. Madeleine would be more unlikely. Tariq would be another one she couldn’t imagine showing up. But there weren’t many people that would be more shocking.

Hana spun to face Riley, letting out a sigh and smiling when she saw her. “Oh good, I am in the right place,” she said before she walked around the end of the bar and over to Riley and gave her a warm, enveloping hug.

Riley blinked several times before she responded, placing her hands gently on Hana’s shoulders. It was all so surreal, like a weird fever dream or something. Hana was supposed to be in Cordonia, not here in New York.

Eventually, Hana pulled back from her hug, staring at Riley intently. “Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Oh,” Riley hadn’t heard her question at all, so shocked by this turn of events. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

Hana frowned slightly, “I wanted to come and see how you were doing.”

Riley shook her head, trying to wrap her head around things. “I need to get back to work. And you shouldn’t be behind the bar.”

“Oh, sorry!” said Hana, stepping away from her and back to the other side of the bar. “I’ll just sit here and wait until the end of your shift.”

Riley sighed. She couldn’t deal with this right now. She needed to stay focused, and Hana’s presence was making that hard. She couldn’t afford a meltdown like she’d had the other night. “I’m working a closing shift, Hana.”

“That’s fine,” she replied, climbing onto the closest stool. “I don’t have anywhere to be until Monday.”

“I work this entire weekend.”

“I suppose that’s the risk of a spontaneous trip,” she said with a smile, “Like I said, my time is entirely free until Monday, so I can work around you and your schedule. I just wanted to see you.”

Riley pinched her eyes shut briefly. She needed Hana to get out of here so that she could collect herself. She might be able to handle seeing her tomorrow, but right now she felt overwhelmed and ambushed. Hana wasn’t supposed to be here. She should be in Cordonia. And Riley could not even begin to process anything about that at the moment.

When she opened her eyes, Hana was staring at her carefully, almost as if she was trying to read Riley’s mind. After a couple of seconds, she said, almost timidly, “Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and do your job. I’ll be here when you get off.”

“I won’t get off until after three in the morning. And with jet lag and the time zone change, I kind of doubt you’ll make it that late.”

“Well, how about I start with a wine list, and we’ll see how I do.”

Out of excuses, Riley passed her their wine list and circled around to check on the drinkers scattered around at the booths off to the side. When she came back, she poured Hana her requested glass of Merlot, glancing around. Thankfully, the bar was beginning to fill with people out for Friday after-work drinks, and Riley had plenty of customers to keep her busy. Over the next several hours, she only had to check in on Hana a handful of times. She was just there, on her phone, nursing her glass of wine. Once, Riley caught her brushing off a guy in an ill-fitting suit who was clearly trying to get her number. Sometime after nine though, she noticed Hana yawning deeply. It was about four in the morning Cordonia time, after all.

“Hana,” she said, approaching her after bringing another round of martinis to the group of coworkers getting progressively louder at the far end of the bar, “you need to sleep. Why don’t you go to your hotel and we can meet up for brunch tomorrow?”

Hana nodded, the tiredness evident in her eyes. “I’m trying to stretch my money, so I’m at a more budget friendly option. It’s called the Hampton, I think?”

Riley just shook her head. Of course Hana viewed a lovely, but not extravagant, hotel as “budget friendly.”

“That’s a chain, Hana. Just text me what location you’re at, and I can meet you there in the morning.”

“Okay, I know you aren’t much of a morning person, so should we say 10 o’clock?”

“Can we make it 11? I’ll be here-”

“Until three, yes. Of course, you told me that. Sorry I forgot, and sorry I’m too tired to stay here any longer. Will you be okay getting home?”

Riley swallowed roughly at that. Hana’s simple, polite question triggered a bunch of conflicting emotions. Affection for the best friend she’d probably ever had. Memories of Drake walking her home at the end of basically every shift. Loneliness in general. But she had to keep things in check. She was working. So she simply nodded, took Hana’s cash, and waved goodnight to her. Then she took a deep breath and got back to work.

Thankfully Fridays were typically busy, at least until the last couple of hours before closing. So Riley was able to distract herself with mixing drinks, pouring shots, and collecting glasses until the last 90 minutes or so of her shift. But eventually, things died down as the customers either went home or moved on to other clubs. And that left Riley with a little more time to think than she really wanted.

Hana being here was not something she would have ever considered. She had no idea why she was in New York. But now that she was here, Riley was going to need to make some adjustments to how she was processing all the changes she’d had in her life recently. Her strategy of dividing things into her “New York life” and her “Cordonia life” was not going to work with Hana here in the flesh.

When she was a broken little girl in foster care, she’d shoved people away. Harshly at times. She’d lashed out, said cruel hurtful things, tested everyone’s patience. After all, if you never let someone get close, you never end up hurt. But that existence had been a lonely one, and Riley was extroverted enough that she actually wanted to spend time with people. So, somewhere along the way, she’d learned how to keep everyone at arm’s length while still being friendly. She was everyone’s good time buddy, someone you invited to your birthday party, but no one that you would call when you were going through a breakup or a death in the family. She had become fun and silliness and energy personified. People liked having her around, but they demanded nothing serious from her. It was the perfect set-up. The joy of spending time with others without any pain or vulnerability. Or so Riley had thought for many years.

But things were different when she got to Cordonia. There, starting with Hana and Maxwell, but quickly expanding to include Liam, and then Drake, people just seemed to see her as someone with more depth. Hana had trusted her in a way no one had ever before, and it just set the tone for everything else. Riley had finally understood what true, real friendship felt like. And it was nice - actually caring about someone and feeling cared for in return. So she’d opened up and connected in a way that she hadn’t since she was little, before she realized her mother needed her next hit more than she needed her daughter.

Since leaving Drake in Cordonia, she’d been trying to separate her experience with all of them from the rest of her life. After all, her relationships there had been wildly different than any other relationships in her life, it all almost felt like a strange dream. But if Hana was coming to intrude on her life here, she was just going to have to keep things casual with Hana. Because otherwise, it was all going to hurt too much when Hana left her go back to Cordonia and she was all alone once again.

Mind made up, Riley worked on closing out the last few customers' tabs before making her way home. Tomorrow at brunch with Hana, she was just going to have to be good-time Riley. It was the only way to move forward at this point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hana ran a brush through her hair, clipping her fringe back out of her face. She really needed a trim, but she was considering changing up her look. Maxwell had encouraged her to do something bold to her appearance. While her fractured relationship with her parents wasn’t truly a “breakup” in the traditional sense, he’d told her she should do something to commemorate her newfound “freedom.” And, he’d insisted a dramatic new hairstyle was the time-honored traditional way to do it. While Hana wasn’t quite ready to make the dive into dyeing her hair pink just yet, she thought growing out her fringe might be a manageable place to start.

She checked her appearance in the mirror before adding a touch of lip gloss. She thought her outfit was appropriate for brunch with Riley, but she was really sure. Was a midi dress the right choice? Was it too formal? Not formal enough? Normally, she would have called or texted Riley to ask, but last night had not gone as she expected.

She wasn’t sure what she had done wrong, but it was pretty clear that Riley had not been pleased to see her. It was not what she was used to when it came to interacting with her. From the first moment they met in that boutique, Riley had been so kind, so supportive. That first night, she’d even followed her out of the ball when Olivia’s words got to her more than they should have, when she had no reason to pay her the time of day. But yesterday was strange. Riley had barely hugged her and had clearly been trying to get her out of her bar.

With the texts she’d gotten, she’d known that Riley was hurting, but was trying not to show it. All of the texts had been casual, but way too generic for Riley. They were bland, not playful or joyous. When Drake had mentioned that he could identify all of Liam’s cues for not coping, it had struck something inside of Hana. Granted, she hadn’t known Riley for anywhere near as long as Drake and Liam had been friends, but she still felt she understood Riley fairly well. So when Drake had mentioned needing to be there for Liam, it had dawned on Hana that she could do the same thing. She could be there for Riley.

She’d made countless calls, sent numerous emails, and over the course of two days, she’d arranged to move up all her New York meetings she was planning for either January or February to the upcoming week. Then she’d gone to the bank, transferred her trust fund, the one account to which her parents had absolutely no access, to more liquid accounts, and booked flights and a hotel.

Her plan had been to spend the weekend with Riley, doing whatever she could to cheer her up and show her that even with an ocean between them, she would never be alone. Having the meetings would serve as an excuse if Riley hadn’t wanted to see her, but she hadn’t anticipated actually needing that excuse. She figured Riley would feel better having a close friend near, someone to talk to about whatever was going on with her and Drake in person. But her behavior last night had suggested otherwise.

Hana was doubting the wisdom of showing up in New York unannounced fairly heavily at this point. She debated sending Riley a message and cancelling brunch, but a quick check of the time made it a moot point. Riley was supposed to meet her down in the lobby in less than 15 minutes, and seeing as Hana had no sense of how far away Riley lived or how long it would take her to get to this part of the city, she knew it would be rude to cancel at this point. So she slipped into her jacket and made her way down to the lobby where she sat patiently waiting until Riley arrived.

“Hey, Hana,” Riley called out as she walked through the automatic doors. She was smiling and seemed happy to see her, a total contrast to how she’d been in the bar. To further emphasize the difference, Riley walked over and threw her arms around her as Hana stood to greet her. It was nearly night and day, the difference in Riley’s behavior.

“So,for brunch, I know a great place, but it’s a bit of a haul from here. How do you feel about public transportation?”

“I’ll defer to your judgement. This is your hometown, after all.”

“Great! Let’s go!” Riley said, spinning around and bounding back towards the doors.

Hana followed her out onto the sidewalk and crisp fall air, making sure not to lose her as she wound around people for several blocks before ducking down a flight of stairs to a subway station. As Riley purchased a ticket for Hana at some automated kiosk, Hana tried to search through her mind for topics of conversation that wouldn’t be likely to send Riley back to her awkward mood from the night before.

It turned out, she had no reason to worry. Riley chatted extensively, about funny customers she had, about the restaurant where they were going, about Anderson’s excitement at meeting another corgi on their walk around the block the other day. She seemed bubbly and chipper, but somehow it all felt off. “Maybe,” Hana thought, “she was just cantankerous because she was at work last night.” Still, Hana felt like everything was just a little strange.

As they walked into the restaurant and perused the menu, Riley started asking her about what plans she had next week. As Hana explained her meetings with her contacts, her goal to develop a organizational plan and to obtain some funding sources, Riley was certainly listening intently. She asked numerous follow up questions and seemed to show a genuine interest. But Hana couldn’t help but notice that every time she mentioned something about Cordonia, be it Maxwell or the palace or anything, really, Riley would direct the conversation away subtly. It was like she wanted to pretend that she and Hana were just two friends from New York, that their connection didn’t originate in some other place where they both had deep connections.

It was a very intentional move on Riley’s part, Hana decided after it happened for a third time. It could not be a coincidence that Riley wanted to talk about anything besides Cordonia. Hana wasn’t sure if it was deep denial or just an attempt to prevent conversation from drifting to Drake, but regardless, it didn’t seem entirely healthy. But Hana didn’t want to push Riley. She was here to support her, and if a lighthearted brunch was what she needed, well then that was what Hana would provide. So she told more about her evolving plans and upcoming meetings, hoping that just her presence was at least a little bit helpful. But as she allowed herself to be talked into a shopping outing for proper business clothes, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was taking the appropriate approach. It just didn’t feel right. Because the comfort she was providing could be provided by nearly any casual acquaintance. Hana was going to have to figure out how to provide the comfort of a best friend; it was her new goal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drake leaned against the wall in the corner of the conference room, listening in as the various intelligence agents recounted their summaries of their interrogations to Liam, Bastien, and a few other key members of the King’s Guard. It would have almost felt like old times if Olivia wasn’t standing there as well, skulking right along with him.

“Incompetent pieces of shit,” she muttered under her breath, “If they had just given me five minutes with any of those traitorous assholes, I would have had twice as much information already.”

“Yeah, only because they thought you were in on their plan.”

Olivia twisted her head around to scowl at Drake and used her middle finger to scratch her cheek. Drake figured it was the most subtle she’d been in a spat with him since he’d returned from university.

“This is taking forever,” she whispered as the next agent started recounting his interrogation of a man named Claudius.

“We can’t play all our cards too early in these interrogations. They just start with initial questioning to get every suspect’s baseline statements. That way, there are going to be a shitton of discrepancies, not only between what they say and what we know, but also between the different assholes’ statements. It makes ‘em more likely to turn on each other to try and save their own skins.”

Olivia leaned back, bringing herself slightly closer to Drake, presumably to make sure their whispered conversation didn’t draw too much attention to the two of them. They’d both been invited to listen in on how the investigation was progressing. Olivia, presumably because she was instrumental to all the arrests happening. Drake, presumably because Liam would have always done so in the past.

Since their fishing trip, Drake and Liam had fallen a bit into their old pattern. In some ways it felt like normal, like they were returning to a familiar routine. But in other ways, things felt entirely shifted. There was a tension there as both of them fumbled through finding a new normal. There were lots of apologies for little things. Liam being a few minutes late. Drake getting caught rolling his eyes. It was like they both were trying to find a new balance in their friendship and were worried that they were pushing things too far. It was still a work in progress, but at least they were talking again, Liam running through things with Drake at the end of each day like they had done for so long, clearing his mind and enjoying some whiskey. Bouncing ideas off of him, Drake serving as his ever-skeptical sounding board.

“When did you become an expert in terrorism interrogations?” Olivia asked, drawing Drake back to the moment.

“I’ve been sitting in on meetings like this for years, Olivia.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. What the fuck did you think I was doing with my time?”

“Drinking Liam’s whiskey. Moping around and complaining. Buying more denim. Take your pick.”

Before Drake could snap back, Bastien called for a fifteen minute break. Most of the agents got up, clearly eager to stretch their legs, get some water, or just plain get out of the room they’d all been in for the past 150 minutes. Liam and Bastien called over Stefan, obviously wanting to review some points in the notes he was recording. Drake didn’t feel compelled to move. He’d learned over the years that staying in one spot at these types of meetings often turned him basically invisible. He assumed Olivia would take the opportunity to get away from him, but to his surprise, she stayed leaning against the wall as well, taking the break in the proceedings to talk just a little more freely.

“Given your presence here, I take it you two kissed and made up,” she said, jutting her chin towards Liam.

Drake rolled his eyes. “Like you even care. You would love it if we stopped talking to each other.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah right.”

“Believe it or not, Drake, you don’t have a fucking monopoly on caring about him. I don’t want him to suffer any more than you do. And while I might never understand it, he clearly hates when you two are being fucking idiots and tiptoeing around each other instead of just punching each other and being done with it.”

“How would you even know?”

“Who do you think he talked to when you weren’t here, dipshit?”

Drake paused at that. He had never considered the possibility that Liam might have opened up to Olivia in his absence. And he was shocked that learning that fact filled him not with repulsion, but something more like gratitude.

“Wow. I’m… I’m glad.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” she replied, giving him an exaggerated eye roll.

“Nah, I mean it’s weird to me that it’s you, but I would much rather he has someone who knows him well that he can actually talk to. It’s kind of… well, a relief actually.” Drake turned to fully face Olivia at that, not exactly surprised that she mirrored his motion. She stared him straight in the eyes before giving him a little nod.

“Like I said, you don’t have a monopoly on caring for him.”

“I know.”

Drake just looked at Olivia, feeling like, for the first time in well over a decade, he was seeing traces of the little girl he’d grown up with. And while he knew the two of them would probably never be that close again, he could at least respect that she clearly wanted the best for Liam. Liam the person, not Liam the King. It was probably the one thing they had in common.

“So, when are you heading back to New York?” Olivia asked. Her tone was genuine, no sarcasm or condescension.

“Eager to get rid of me?” he teased, trying to keep his tone light, preserving whatever little truce they’d just stumbled into.

“Of course,” she said, giving him a genuine smile to let him know she wasn’t trying to offend or insult. It was a rare look on her face. “But seriously, when do head out?”

Drake bit the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out what to say. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he was wanted back in New York.

Riley was ignoring him. He had to face the facts on that front. She’d sent him exactly one text since she left Cordonia, letting him know her flight landed safely. Since that time, it had been radio silence. He would have been terrified that something had happened to her if his texts weren’t all getting marked as read.

Of course, he wasn’t sure his texts were any better than the nothing he was getting from her. Granted, he had never been some great texter. Combine that fact with the unsettled way he’d left things with Riley, and it was a recipe for awkward little questions. He’d asked her if Anderson was okay. How her day was. How her shift was. It was fucking small talk, but he didn’t know what else he could send. It’s not like he was gonna pour out his heart in a fucking text. So all he’d been able to do was send meaningless garbage. He figured at the very least, she would know he was thinking of her.

“I’m not sure,” he said, dropping his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to say anymore. Hell would freeze over before he opened up to Olivia Nevrakis, regardless if she was Liam’s new confidante.

He could feel Olivia still staring at him, but after a few seconds, she simply said, “Oh, alright. I’m going to go get something to drink.”

As Drake dared glancing up again, he found her already walking towards the door. Letting out a sigh, he realized he was now grateful to Olivia for three things. For bringing in evidence on the attacks. For taking care of Liam. And for giving him relative privacy just then. Because figuring out what he needed to do, what Riley needed from him, was not going to happen in the middle of a security briefing. He just wasn’t sure if he was going to ever be able to figure out that answer. And that thought terrified him to his core.

Permatag: @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley–walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #hana lee #olivia nevrakis #trr #the royal romance #choices fanfiction #choices #playchoices #choices stories you play

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illwork4anime · 4 years ago

Note

18 please!

Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Yes! So I will use my WIP Done with Love

ORIGINS

ORIGINALLY THIS STORY WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE ShikaSaku.

IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONLY ITASAKU. LOOK HOW FAR WE HAVE FALLEN BECAUSE I FELL HARD FOR SHIKA.

Literally never considered the pairing until this.

This story started with the Itasaku oneshot that is the prologue. Then I wrote a drabble that was just the hospital scene, but a little different. It had Kurenais daughter coming in wounded. Sakura saves her and goes to the waitingroom to find Shika a mess. It's the end of her shift so she takes him out for a drink. The end.

Then I decided, no I want to write a proper story. So I combined them, with Shikamaru only there because of his big brain AND THATS IT. NOTHING ELSE. So I added...They talk. Shika owes her one bigtime. Asuma would have haunted him forever if she died. So, Sakura says - I know how you are going to help me out. Help me train and I am going to get Sasuke back all on my own. Work with me on a strategy. The start of the chapter was a flash forward to an event I can tell because its a spoiler! Basically, Sakura is captured and trying to escape. This helped add some suspense to the exposition and make a boring capture time more interesting by breaking it up.

BUT then I decided to redo it completely. Because I fell in love with shikasaku as a later pairing.

Also - all those Kakashi moments - ACCIDENTAL. I wrote that healing scene in the library on a whim and now here we are. Originally, just supposed to be Shika and Itachi.

DELETED/REFACTORED SCENE

One additional diversion was the scene in the art gallery. That originally didn’t have the genjutsu at all. It was an argument outside in a part. But I wanted to make it relevant to her training, so I put it in the gallery. In the alternate scene, it started because Sakura confronted Shikamaru about how he had kissed Ino before and wanted to know what kind of kiss it was. Here it is in DRAFT FORM:

“Oh, Sai!” Ino’s voice shatters through the moment. Ino bounds up behind Sai, throwing her arms around him in greeting.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding from me.” She says sweetly.

“Beautiful, I was not hiding, I assure you.” He says, face looking phonier than before. Why did Ino get a nice nickname, while Sakura got stuck with Hag? Ino beams at him for it.

“I missed you, silly. Let’s go to the movies Friday, so you can make it up to me.” Ino says sweetly.

Sai turns to Sakura, “What do you think, Sakura? Shall we go?”

Ino glares at her, as if she’s invited herself while Sakura puts her hands up in surrender.

“Um, actually Sai, I have training with Shikamaru on Friday night. I won’t be able to go.” Sakura lies.

“Is that what you’re calling it,” Ino grumbles under her breath.

“Apologies, Ino. We will have to try another time.” He says to her.

“She won’t mind if we go without her,” She says sweetly, then grinds out in a threatening tone, “Right, Sakura?”

“Right.” Sakura squeaks.

“According to my reading, the Hag is socially obligated to agree in this situation, though her true feelings could be to the contrary. It would be perceived as a slight to go without her.” Sai responds, looking rather proud at his insight.

Sakura cringes as Ino’s intensified glare.

“Then why don’t you just bring Shikamaru along, Sakura.” Ino offers, “Then we can have a double date.”

Again, the way Ino says it give Sakura no room to disagree, but she does anyway.

“I’m not going on a double date.” She says firmly.

“Forehead, let’s just talk for a second over there.” Ino says, grabbing her arm too tightly and dragging her out of hearing distance.

“Don’t ruin this for me, Sakura. I’m super close to sealing the deal on Sai and I’m not about to give that up because you made some phony sisterhood pact to yourself to swear off men forever.” She whispers furiously.

“It’s not about my completely legitimate pact. I have way bigger things to worry about right now than going on a fake date.” Sakura hisses back. Danzo’s disappointed expression rises up in her memory, along with his gentle reminder of her deadline. She shakes her head, “And don’t kid yourself, Ino. Sai has no idea you’re even interested in him.”

“Then you understand why I need this!” Ino argues back.

“Even if I wanted to, I’d never get Shikamaru to agree to this.” Sakura says, trying a different angle.

“Ha!” Ino lets out a shrill laugh, “That’s what you’re worried about.”

Sakura glares, “Yes. The last place he’d want to spend a Friday night is fourth-wheeling a date with you and Sai.” She’s not sure that’s strictly true, but is hoping his lazy, reclusive track record works to her advantage.

“Fourth-wheeling isn’t a thing, and you know it.” Ino disagrees, “And he’d go if you asked him. He’d show up in civilian clothes with his hair down if you asked him to.”

“Yeah, right.” Sakura scoffs, but blushes at the image that pops in her head of him running a hand through his loose hair. She shakes her head and says with more bite than she means to, “It doesn’t matter who asks. The answer will be no.”

“Then you’d better convince him.” She says, jabbing a finger in Sakura’s shoulder. “You still owe me from the time I pretended to be your lover to get that stalker fan boy to stop bothering you.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you do to that!” Sakura protests.

“See, I did it out of the goodness of my heart, so now’s your chance to repay me, because that’s what girlfriends do.” She smiles with a shrug and turns back to Sai to answer without waiting for Sakura to respond.

“Sai, she’s in!” She giggles, skipping back over to him, “See you Friday, Forehead!”

_____

Even though he said it wouldn’t, Shikamaru’s waiting for her outside the theater out of uniform that Friday. His black pants look pretty much the same, but his well-toned arms are on full display in a mesh tee-shirt and a long green vest that brushes his thighs. It probably has the Nara clan symbol on the back.

“Look at you, Muscles,” She teases him, glancing pointedly at his exposed arms. He lets out an annoyed huff, but his cheeks go pink, “I thought you weren’t wearing your civilian clothes tonight.”

“It would have been more troublesome to stick out that to just change,” He sulks. She can’t keep the smile off her face.

“Ino and Sai here yet?” She looks around but doesn’t see them.

“Not yet.” He’s still blushing and looks to the side when he says, “You look nice too.”

She lets out a surprised, “Oh, thanks,” looking down at the outfit she found in the back of her closet. It had been hard to find something that was fancy enough to say ‘date’ for Ino but casual enough to say ‘friends’ for Shikamaru. The simple cream tank top, with a more generous neckline than she was used to, tucked into a plain red skirt did the trick.

“Forehead, Shikamaru!” Ino calls, jogging up with her arm looped through Sai’s.

“Here we go,” Shikamaru mumbles, pushing off the wall he’s leaning against.

“Hey, none of that attitude,” She scolds. If she was taking a night off, it was going to be worth it, dammit, “We are here to have fun. Even if it kills us,”

“It just might,” he breaths out as Ino bounds up to them.

“You actually showed up. I honestly didn’t think you would,” Ino says with an obnoxious laugh. She eyes Ino’s crop top and short purple skirt and suddenly feels like her neckline isn’t so racy after all. Sai’s outfit is just as bad, also in a black crop top with low riding pants.

“Why am I the only one not wearing a crop top?” Sakura says pulling at the bottom half of her shirt.

“Hey,” Shikamaru says sharply, gesturing to his shirt, “This is not a crop top.”

“Might has well be,” She jokes, poking his abs through a hole in the mesh.

“Stop that,” he complains, grabbing onto her hand.

“This is going to be so fun!” Ino says, looping her arm through Sakura’s and dragging them inside. Shikamaru doesn’t let go of her hand until Ino pushes him and Sai into the line for tickets.

“Why can’t you just get your own stuff, Ino?” Shikamaru grumbles. “What a drag.”

“You’d know why if you ever bothered to go on dates, Shikamaru.” She answers, sticking her tongue out at him. He flushes pink and glances shyly at Sakura.

“Beautiful is right. Traditionally men are the ones to pay for date activities,” Sai says, no doubt trying to be helpful.

“She’s totally taking advantage of you, man,” Shikamaru says, shaking his head and turning to walk up to the counter.

“I don’t understand,” Sai says, following behind him. “A date is still an equal exchange. Don’t men usually receive payment in the form of sexual favors at the end of the night?”

Sakura hears Shikamaru let out a strangled groan. He grabs Sai by the back of the head and starts whispering something urgently to him.

She can’t help but laugh at Shikamaru’s reaction.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” Ino gushes. “He’s like a lost little puppy.”

“He’s something.” Is all Sakura can think to answer.

Ino’s eyes turn mischievous and swing to Sakura. “So you got Shikamaru to come. Who was right again?”

Of course, Ino wanted to get in her I-told-you-so about it being relatively easy to get Shikamaru to come.

She tries to make it sound more trouble than it was. “Yeah, well you don’t know what I had to promise to get him to come here, Ino-pig.”

“Oh my, Forehead!” Ino lets out a scandalized giggle. Sakura’s face heats, realizing Ino took it sexually. “On the contrary, I want to know every saucy detail.”

“It’s nothing like that!” Sakura says, but Ino is unphased.

“Just as long as it’s nothing naughty in the theater. It’s all fun and games until you’re halfway through a hand job and a worker shines a flashlight on you with your hand down some guy’s pants in front of a theater full of judgy middle-aged women who clearly don’t understand the concept of spontaneous romance.”

“That’s so specific,” Sakura says suspiciously. “Please tell me that didn’t actually happen to you.”

“Yes, well,” Ino waves of her comment, “Learn from my mistakes Sakura. But more importantly, don’t mentally scar me by getting freaky with my teammate while I’m 2 seats down.”

“I should say the same to you!” Sakura says, blushing further, but Ino doesn’t make any promises.

Shikamaru and Sai return. Shikamaru looks more disgruntled than ever.

“That was the most troublesome conversation I’ve ever had.” He grumbles under his breath to her, low enough for Sai and Ino to miss. But as Ino passes, he says, “You owe me two times now for that.”

Sakura flushes. Although Sakura knows he means 2 weekends, Ino doesn’t. She wiggles her eyebrows and Sakura wants to sink into the floor from embarrassment.

He hands her a ticket with ‘Illusion of Silence’ written on the front, and she asks, “What are we seeing? A horror movie?”

“It was that or a sappy romcom. Just remember I chose the lesser of two evils.” He says and takes her hand again, leading her to the theater. It feels a little strange to be holding hands, but she doesn’t say anything. The trailers haven’t started yet, so they have no trouble finding their seats. The theater is mostly empty anyway, probably not a good sign for the movie quality.

She sits down between Shikamaru and Sai.

“Sakura, how is what you pass off as sketching going?” Sai asks.

Pass off. She suppresses the urge to smack him across the head. That kind of thing was frowned upon in these types of establishments.

“Terrible. I think Kurenai-sensei gave up on me.”

Kurenai had barely kept from laughing at Sakura when she’d shown her sketch book. It was pitiful, and while there had been a small improvement in Sakura’s visual genjutsu, Kurenai had decided to move on to a different topic. She still had to keep up the activity, but just not as her main focus.

Now they were working on non-visual genjutsu. Sakura found this a lot easier for some reason. Inducing pain, sounds, tastes, smells, all of that was just chemicals moving around the body. She understood those. She’d dealt with those before.

While she’d been extremely glad for the change in topic, she couldn’t manage to look forward to her lessons anymore. It was hard not to look at Kurenai differently after learning about her secret affair with Kakashi. It was a difficult feeling to explain, but every time she remembered it, her chest grew heavy, like something had reached inside her chest and squeezed a fist around her heart. She grits her teeth just thinking about it.

“I told you giving up was the best option,” Sai says sweetly, “No reason to waste your time improving a hopeless skill.”

“Shut up, Sai. A student is only as good as their teacher and you were absolutely no help.” She grumbles.

“Hey, don’t blame Sai because you can only draw stick figures. Some people just aren’t born to be artists like he was,” Ino defends, sending a starry eyed look at Sai and resting a hand to Sai’s arm. Then she pulls him into a conversation about what his ‘artistic genius’ has be working on lately.

“Is it really going that bad?” Shikamaru asks referring to her genjutsu training. His eyebrows are drawn in with concern.

“I don’t know.” She grumbles. She doesn’t want to admit it, but from Kurenai’s reactions, she felt it was going that badly. She wasn’t improving as fast as she should be. It seemed like something on a fundamental level just wasn’t clicking. “I try to do what Kurenai is instructing, but it just doesn’t seem to be working. We are so different that sometimes its hard to understand what she wants from me. Plus, it doesn’t help that genjutsu is so subjective.”

“Why don’t we work on it together next week. It might help to get a fresh perspective.”

“Really? That would be amazing,” She says with a smile.

“Of course.” He takes her hand again, rubbing a thumb across the back.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Shikamaru.” She says, squeezing his hand back.

“Let’s not find out,” he jokes, try to be nonchalant but he’s beaming from the comment.

Sakura lets out a yawn, “Let’s not.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” He teases.

“No, I’m fine.” Sakura lies. She’d had practice with Team Guy this morning at 6am but had stayed up until 2am doing research. Physically, she was running out of steam fast. As the lights dim, she finds it harder and harder to keep her eyes open.

Shikamaru shakes her awake. Sometime during the opening credits, she fell asleep on his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry,” She says, groggily. Then whispers, “What did I miss?”

“Everything,” he answers with a smirk.

“What?” She hisses, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He shrugs, “You needed the rest. The point was to relax tonight, right?”

“I guess,” she grumbles.

“The movie sucked anyway,” he says standing.

“That was so scary!” Ino gushes to Sai. “I’m so glad you were here with me, Sai. I felt much safer.”

“It was not really that scary, Beautiful. No reason to be afraid of pictures.” He says confused. Ino huffs.

As they leave, Ino insists on a walk in the park across the street, but within minutes, she’s slipped off with Sai. The suggestive wink tells Sakura everything she needs to know about her plans.

Even just being friends with her, this was uncomfortable. Shikamaru actually was interested at some point. She wondered what he thought of all this.

“How is this not extremely weird for you?” Sakura asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well didn’t you and Ino date a while back?” She explains and Shikamaru looks at her like she’s grown a second head.

“Tsh, no. Definitely not.”

“Well, you liked her though, right?”

He’s pouting, and reluctantly says, “Years ago, maybe. It wasn’t a big deal though.”

“But you guys kissed.” She counters. That seemed like a pretty big deal to her.

He stiffens and goes bright red, “Can Ino not keep her mouth shut about anything?”

“See, it is weird,” she says. But he doubles down.

“No, it’s not.” He disagrees crossing his arms, “That barely counts.”

But now she’s picturing the worst. A grating feeling rises in her chest at the thought of Shikamaru and Ino kissing and she has a strange compulsion to ask just what counts as barely counting.

“Barely counts how?” She says. She’s not able to look him in the eyes, so she trains her gaze on an ice cream cart across the park.

“I dunno, it just does.” He shrugs.

“Because it wasn’t good?” She offers. She hopes it wasn’t good.

“No, it was good,” He says defensively.

“That’s not what she said…” Sakura says skeptically, peaking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Whatever,” Shikamaru grumbles. He’s scowling, “I can kiss just fine. She’s just trying to cover up that she’s the one who initiated the whole thing in the first place.”

“She did?” This surprises her and somehow it makes a difference.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Shikamaru states, picking up his pace. She strides right along undeterred.

“Well did you, like, want to kiss her?”

“I guess. Why does it matter?”

“Because!” She can’t seem to put the why into words. It’s just a queasy feeling turning her stomach. Even though it’s not the full truth, she offers the explanation, “You made out with your teammate, that’s a big deal.”

He stops short and turns to fully face her.

“It isn’t a big deal and we didn’t make out, okay.” He clarifies.

“Then what was it?”

“Just a kiss, Sakura”

“Well yeah, but was it a long, passionate kind -,”

“So troublesome,” he grumbles into the sky.

“Or just a quick -,”

She’s cut off by a warm pressure on her lips and her mind goes blank. As soon as she realizes what’s happening, it’s over.

Shikamaru pulls back a few inches, hands still cupping her face and searches her expression for her reaction. He kissed her.

“That’s all it was.” He murmurs, eyes dark and voice low. Her breath catches in her throat, the queasy feeling in her stomach grows magnitudes greater.

“Obviously I’d do things a little differently now,” He murmurs and his eyes flash, daring her to ask just how.

She should say something, but she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Her mind has snagged on the previous moment. The only additional thing she can seem to process is the warmth of his hands on her cheeks and his calming scent of pine and earth. She’s completely rooted in place by the heat in his chocolate brown eyes. It stokes something inside her. Maybe it is curiosity because she wonders what she would feel if just leans forward those few inches.

They bounce between her eyes and her lips, battling between waiting for her reaction and what she can only think to describe as desire. It only takes a few more moments for the latter to win.

He leans forward to capture her lips again, lingering longer this time. Its careful or rather experimental, testing her for a response she can’t seem to give. Again, he pulls back, studying her face. Again, from the moment his lips touched hers, her mind is just wiped blank, unable or unwilling to process it. Whatever he finds in her expression is enough.

His hand slides to the back of her neck and he kisses her again, deeper. Her eyes slide shut without conscious thought. She feels his other hand ghost down her side, stopping at her waist and pulling her closer. Her hands go to his chest to brace herself.

The pressure has him pulling back, checking over her face. He’s looking to see if she’s asked him to stop, she realizes, and a gentle warmth settles in her stomach. This time, his lips brush softly against hers, begging her to return the pressure and its so sweet, so unsure, that she reacts without thinking, relaxing into him. He pulls her closer, tension she hadn’t noticed draining from him and sighs against her mouth.

Finally, her thoughts are coming back to her, returning each slow, tender press of his lips against hers. The queasiness in her stomach settles into a gentle warmth and she relaxes into him. This is nice, she decides. It’s comfortable. Not great, not terrible.

It different than she’s ever felt before. Her heart isn’t beating out of her chest, she’s doesn’t feel butterflies in her stomach and she isn’t so caught up that needing air is secondary to feeling him against her.

Fine. Just fine.

Suddenly she thinks, shouldn’t it be better than just fine? Shouldn’t she be lit up inside, butterflies in her stomach, reluctant to separate even for air? The warmth in her freezes over.

“Stop,” She gasps, pressing against his chest. He steps back, and the distance seems to return more of her mind to her. The ball of ice in her stomach grows colder.

What was she doing? This was Shikamaru. Her closest friend, and she needed him like she needed air. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get wrapped up in romance again and have everything between them fall apart. Because it would fall apart. That’s what love did to people or at least to her.

“That was a mistake” She finally decides. It was a mistake and they could forget about it and move on like it never happened. But Shikamaru’s face falls. He looks scared, she thinks.

“Don’t say that,” he begs, but she just shakes her head wrapping her arms around herself.

“I can’t do this,” Then looks into his eyes which are breaking in front of her.

“You don’t have feelings for me,” he tries.

But that’s not right. She felt something for him. He was so important to her and she’d be lying if she hadn’t found him attractive, but it didn’t quite feel like love. At least not how she’d loved Sasuke.

Even if it did, she didn’t want that anymore. Love only led to heartbreak and loss and she couldn’t lose him. Shikamaru was her only refuge in her storm of a life and she didn’t know how she’d stay afloat without him.

Words are pouring from her mouth, and she’s not even sure they make sense, but she can’t stop them.

“I-I don’t know how I feel. I just – I can’t lose you and if we do that, eventually we’ll screw everything up and I’ll lose you. I just can’t, Shikamaru. I can’t. I need you.”

Hope shines in his eyes. It’s a rejection, but not for the reason he feared. “You won’t lose me.”

“I will.” She insists. Now she’s the one that’s scared. She torn between needing the comfort of his embrace and wanting to keep him at arm’s length. She settles with taking a step closer and grabbing the opening of his vest. “You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t want anything to change between us.”

How can she explain it to him? How can she make him understand?

“Nothing will,” He whispers, hand coming to her face again. But she can see the gears turning in his head. He’s looking at her like a shogi piece now, something to outmaneuver, outthink to the outcome he wants. Anger flares up in her.

He strokes a thumb against her face, eyes settling again on her mouth.

“Don’t,” She snaps, turning her face from his palm. She needed to leave. They just needed some time apart and he’d realize he was just caught up in the moment or something at they’d put this behind them.

“I can’t. I just need a minute.” She says disengaging from him and striding off.

“Wait, Sakura!” he calls, but she doesn’t. He swears under his breath.

She needed to put some distance between them, she needed to time to think, but she if she left alone, he’d just follow her. Ino and Sai approach then, Ino clinging to Sai’s arm. She doesn’t want to talk with Ino, doesn’t want her judgy questions, so she strides up to her next best option.

“Sai, we’re getting ice cream,” She says, dragging him toward the stand across the part.

“Sounds enjoyable,” He says with a smile, not at all minding the interruption.

Ino on the other hand lets out an annoyed, “Hey!” but doesn’t fight her past that. Sakura and Sai are out of earshot before she has a chance.

Ino crosses her arms, icily looking Shikamaru up and down.

“You are really screwing this up, aren’t you?” Ino says with a smirk.

Shikamaru scoffs going red and snaps, “Like you’re doing any better.”

To which Ino lets out an indignant “Hmph!”

Sakura stops in front of the ice cream cart and gets them both a chocolate cone. Eating her feelings sounded wonderful right now.

“Shall we make some small talk now?” Sai asks with a smile. She groans.

“You don’t ask to make small talk, Sai. You just do it.” She explains, taking a lick of her chocolate ice cream. Its cold and sweet, but in a different way than Shikamaru had tasted.

Shit. Stop. That wasn’t allowed.

“Okay, so what are you doing after this?” He asks and it sounds like a pick-up line he probably read from a book on interacting with females. She rolls her eyes. Still, she’s thankful for the distraction and reminds herself this is still better than Ino.

“I’ll probably go back to the archives tonight and finish reading a few documents” She answers, talking another taste of her ice cream. Sai steps in front of her and she stops short.

“Did you not find the message I hid for you?” He says looking worried.

“What message?” She asks, confused.

“The one on the picture I gave you.” He says with a frown. Right, the picture of his brother. Is he talking about the numbers and symbol he signed in the corner? “You should go straight home tonight, Sakura.”

“Why would I do that?” she asks, growing annoyed that he won’t just get to the point.

“I cannot divulge that information.” He says robotically. She freezes.

“What did you just say?” she asks him to repeat.

“I cannot divulge that information.” He repeats and his eyes look urgent. It’s the phrase he uses when he’s close to triggering his seal. The message was about Danzo.

“Sai, what’s the message? What do you mean?” She grabs in shirt and pulls him to her, but he can’t answer.

“I cannot divulge -,”

“I get it!” She snaps at him. She has to ask it differently and her mind is racing a mile a minute over the possibilities.

“You said I shouldn’t go to the archives, right?” She tries, going back over his words.

“Yes, you should just stay home tonight.” He repeats.

“So, the message has something to do with the archives?”

“I cannot divulge -,” he begins.

“So, I’m right? You can’t tell me because I’m right.” She deduces quickly. “The message is about the archives. Is it a clue? Can I find it in the archives?”

“I cannot divulge that information.” He says, but this time seems to fight against it. “Don’t go there, Hag. You shouldn’t -,”

“Stop calling me Hag!” She bites out, unable to sensor herself, “I don’t care what I should or shouldn’t do. I’m going.” She releases his shirt and starts down the road.

“Wait!” He grabs her arm, “Listen, you shouldn’t -,”

“Was it important? Your message?” She interrupts.

“Yes,” he says, “but -,”

“Then I’m going to find it!” She says pulling her arm from his grasp and shoving her ice cream cone into it instead. She’s determined and sprints down the path. Sai had finally given her a clue about Danzo, and she’s not going to let this piece of information slip away.

“It’s not safe!” he calls, but she’s already disappeared into the night.

Reading this, I feel like this was better...hahaha oh well.

#ask #thanks for the ask!#dwl #done with love

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rureikia · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1

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"Why me?"

"Because you're single and you're my life long best friend! Friends have each other's back, no?"

I stared at Sumiko and instantly shook my head to reject the idea, "Then I don't want my back anymore. I don't want to go."

"Ah (Y/N) please." She clasps her hands in a prayer pose.

A long, tired sigh escapes from my mouth, but she stays stubborn and chooses not to listen to my aspect of the situation, "Uwaaaah, Sumiko what do you not get? I do not go to those sort of events. Who do you think I am?"

Even after I had given her the belated answer she didn't like, Sumiko decided to lean on my work desk further and pulled a rare puppy-dog expression.

She's not actually like this, trust me. Sumiko is much more mature than me, but today she's extremely persistent in acting like a crazy aunt because of this silly little blind date thing.

"You're a bland person (Y/N), that's what I think. And you're literally only going as a substitute so you don't have to uh - date anyone," she explains, "Tag along, you might even enjoy yourself for once. You never have fun anymore, and it'll be like the old times!"

Her hopeful smile doesn't affect me, rather made my eyebrow twitch. Thus, I returned back to my computer screen and continued typing up work as a way to defocus my mind off her, "I don't know what you mean. Of course I have fun, I just don't really like blind dates."

"Goukon is fun though! And you're single."

Right, she doesn't need to mention that I'm single over and over again like that...

"Aha, but you said that I don't need to date anyone." I contemptuously reminded her.

Her expression changes from my words, "Oh, whoops... Yeah whatever! Well, the point is that our other girl can't make it, and we can't have one guy hanging 'cuz it'll be really awkward being the only partner-less one."

"Mm, I see."

"You know what? If you join, I'll even pay for all the stuff you order in the restaurant we're meeting at."

Oh actually, that's something I love to hear on an overworked Friday... Especially since I'm a person that will never be made out of money and buy luxuries.

This statement was the only part that caught my attention fully. Because it's free stuff. That particular free stuff being my hearty dinner for tonight.

I raised a brow as a sign of piqued interest, "Everything...? Are you sure? Really?"

"That includes drinks, yes..." Sumiko looks at me with a proud face, "Absolutely everything."

Smiling curiously I was beginning to consider accepting the offer, "Is there anything else?"

"What do you want?" She says.

For a second, I put a finger to my chin and looked up at the ceiling to hum a heavy brainstorm teasingly.

There was this one idea I had which was going to turn this into a sort of win-win situation for my remaining hours left here. And so I chuckled at Sumiko in this suspicious style whilst her smile instantly wiped off her face - a pensive expression replaced that smile.

Even when watching her quick shift of emotions, I kept beaming as my mind made the decision.

"Here." I said.

I had grabbed the four large piles of documents that were all 5cm thick.

Earlier, it was idly lying next to my computer, waiting for me to start on it. And now, I placed it in front of Sumiko, where she then gawked at me.

You know what made it better? That loud flop sound it made after being dropped.

"W-What?" She gasped.

"Haha, you can do my work."

With my clenched fist raised in front of my face, I furrow my brows in determination. She on the other hand glared at me with threatening intent.

"Thank you very much!" I said, "I'm very excited for this event now Amaya Sumiko! But take your time, do your best!"

"Why (Y/N) -!! You little rascal, you're taking advantage of this aren't you?!" She exhales heavily in disbelief through her mouth.

My chin moves to rest elegantly over on my two intertwined hands that were put up on the desk, "So, when is it? Tell me more, I'm so very excited for this. Is it after work? Seven? Eight? Or are we going wild and starting at nine? Which restaurant is it? "

"God. You're never funny when you do this." She pretends to throw the documents in my face, I however pretended to act scared by shielding myself with my arms. Afterwards, Sumiko continues, "I won't be the one picking the restaurant, but this other guy is gonna do it and he'll text us the location probably an hour before it starts at eight."

"Oh so in three hours to get work done?" I ask.

"...Yeah. I guess."

"Then you better get all that work done or else you'll be working overtime instead of going on dates haha."

She scowls at me and I grin with my teeth showing.

I soon observed her storm off to the opposite side of the office where her own work station was whilst I was still jokingly beaming behind her.

...

I went back to thinking of what could happen with me and the others over in that meetup. I think it won't go awfully too perfect for me, not that meaning I will be pessimistic about it. Ah I'll say it a bit clearer - what I mean is that I won't really be interested in finding someone there since I prefer to meet someone by chance and not choice.

Haha, to be honest... I haven't dated for a while or done anything like this. Well I haven't been in a stable relationship in general for a while. So I'm now kind of nervous...

I've been on a couple dates here and there but never actually got myself a significant other ever since my first real relationship. And it made me a little teary-eyed as I thought my first real boyfriend was probably also my... (sniffs)... Final...

I'd grow into an elderly person and not understand the concept of romantic love anymore as I haven't experienced it in absolute decades by then. Ultimately, I will live life as a lonely senior with dozens of pets to keep me company instead.

If you put yourself in a positive mindset, it sounded quite nice, living with animals until death. But I do not carry that positive mindset so it ended up not sounding very nice.

I did want to find someone before my parents send pictures of potential partners for me to meet and greet... In fact, they've already started - and no matter how many times I tell mom that I'm not interested at the moment, she persists.

Mom wants me to find someone, get married, live in a better house, be financially stable and add new children to the family tree one day, all that whatnot!

Of course, I know she's just worried about my future, but how am I supposed to find love if I basically forgot how it feels?

In addition, there was also this. My lack of feeling for romance is often what makes all the dates I've been on every blue moon, only be a date. Only one date, never another one again. I just can't seem to identify a sort of love with other people, and it makes me afraid about my future.

I guess another factor for my lack of dating experience may be due to my specifically high-level standards I have raised. Because ever since three years ago, I now tend to struggle to find a suitable partner that would make me feel as much emotions as my last one did.

After all, I can't lie to myself that me dating my ex-boyfriend was something I think during some of my nights, not that I wish to reunite of course. But I think about how it's a little strange that he's the one of the only people I'm not related to I've known for a large portion of my life and also the one I strived for more than my current career.

The most important thing to me is my job. But back then, the most important thing to me was him.

From the beginning of middle school, I've known him and I proceeded to get to know him at high school too. So in a way, we were childhood friends, right?

We lived in the same neighbourhood , him actually living right opposite me - we went to the exact same schools too, middle, high school and college. It was like we were meant to be or something haha!

Well... His name was Kita Shinsuke.

He's definitely the I'm-so-perfect-and-good-looking-but-don't-know-it kind of guy, if you get what I mean.

Kita was respected by so many people. He's responsible, always got excellent top tier grades, talks very polite Japanese, always was the teacher's favorite, was even captain of our high school's volleyball team and mentioning it once more, he was quite good looking too. For a bit, I kept having this stigma that his existence was simply unfair and unbelievable... He can do practically anything and wouldn't react that much as if he's some kind of snobby prince. But soon, when I observed him more, everything was done unintentionally and he was simply like that.

...

Often in stories, dramas or anything similar, two kids that live closeby, or have known each other since young are portrayed as something incredibly sweet. Most commonly called this concept of childhood sweethearts.

Two kids would routinely go to and from school together, possibly holding hands, picking sticks that look like magical wands from the ground, buying ice pops in the summer, blowing bubbles, they'd get told off by the elders, constantly spark up trouble together and they'd pet the stray cats etcetera, etcetera. These two would enjoy each other's presence obliviously not knowing what would develop in the future. Because once those kids grow up, only then would they realize what they share is a friendship that has actually been blooming into love.

I guess that's my summary of one of the examples of childhood sweethearts, but I have yet another one to mention!

Two kids in a love-hate scenario this time, to which I think is a little more complicated.

In this case, one party doesn't like the other at first. However, the other party would take somewhat interest whilst still not liking them too. So throughout time, these two will glare and click their tongues in irritation, not even batting an eye of respect at one another. And so their initial relationship therefore being rigid and competitive - but likewise, once they grow up and become more mature, they come to realize they're used to each other's presence so much that it's odd to not live without it! Suddenly they're like, (gasp) Oh!! It must be true love!!

Maybe if fate had given me a childhood sweetheart like that, I could walk around with hearts in my eyes like what you'd see in television shows.

But me and Kita weren't really like either of those.

We really and truly were just two separate lives that lived coincidentally close.

At my younger age, I'd be at home reading manga, watching Doraemon and singing the opening song for Cutie Honey Flash, as Kita would be doing all his homework, playing sports and helping around his house.

It was definitely during middle school. That's when I started to notice Kita a bit more. I mean to be fair, he went to the same school as me, we left at the same time and we also lived in the same area, who on earth wouldn't notice? And at some point, we were put in the same classes miraculously too.

He was for sure a very good boy. Always completed work to his full potential with that annoying photographic memory of his, often did lunchtime duties and was consistently showered compliments by the teachers! Gah! Wasn't fair!

He sat next to me in year 2 middle school which was probably the year I began liking him even more. Because I would turn my head and just see him and then my whole peripheral vision was also still just, him.

Kita and me never bickered at that time slot nor did we talk too much - come to think of it, I think it's either because I was too scared or because of his introvertedly noiseless attitude. Well, more or less I disliked arguing so I thought if I ever argued with a boy like Kita, it would end in the worst.

There was actually this one memorable time, still set in 2nd year middle school, where me and Kita were the ones chosen by the teacher to hand out the numbered vests for P.E. as everyone was going to join in for soccer. There were around 45 vests in total, Kita handed out a pathetic number of 6, then left to go play ball as the other boys asked him, subsequently leaving me behind to do the rest...

I was therefore running around angrily, trying to hand out all the remaining vests for everyone.

Funnily, the less vests I gradually had, the more I got angry since it reminded me how the one that handed the majority of these, were all me.

It was only when I finished handing them out and the teachers told us to find a partner to stretch with, I bumped into Kita again purely by accident.

Looking at him made me mad. At that second, I wish I had scolded or ranted to him or even thrown my numbered vest to his face to the very least, but we partnered up automatically and I had no time or build-up of confidence to do any of that. Instead, I just copied how he was stretching with a scornful face.

He was stretching with complete concentration adding onto this air of tranquility as if he forgot what he just did, and I was weakly doing the same whilst trying to keep my petty thoughts in check.

By the time I twisted my torso to do a different stretch, I glanced at Kita where he was doing a stretch with the opposite arm. And I stood there, watching him, with a slightly open-mouthed expression, similar to a fish.

I was baffled how he was wearing the same tattered and ugly green vest as everyone else in class and how he was wearing just our school's plain P.E clothes - yet somehow, the wind gently brushed his hair, the sunlight made his dark eyes brighter and I saw how he was noiselessly mouthing numbers to himself to count his seconds of stretching.

Similar to a movie, time stopped. Everything turned slo-mo and my heart had a strong twinge at the sight of him.

It was right then, that was the promising moment I fell for Kita.

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whats-the-story-tc · 4 years ago

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13th-15th of May, 2020

"The One Where the Mask Drops"

[INCREDIBLY LONG SORRY]

Hey, I'm not dead! And to show you how incredibly not dead I am, let me tell you a story.

It's around 2 AM that Wednesday, I'm going to sleep. God knows I'm incredibly exhausted, but there's one last thing I needed to write into my diary. One last thing I couldn't go to sleep without.

"please be good to me today"

I went to sleep hoping that finally, after two weeks of feeling like shit when I thought about us, the tide would turn.

That morning, it rained. I immediately remembered a rainy Wednesday morning just like this two months ago, when the rain brought V back to me. I got very excited. Things were going to change for the better again, I felt it. Suddenly, I couldn't wait for class.

8:30 AM that morning, I'm getting ready for my 9 AM class. Google Classroom–notif. V. Private message. Uh-oh, I thought. The make-or-break moment, and not a minute too soon.

V: Thank you very much for your work!

I almost laughed out loud. "Wow, [Name], don't strain yourself!" I remember saying as I read it.

One infuriatingly boring English (as a foreign language) class later, it was time for V's class. I was ready five minutes in advance, but as I went on The Platform That Shall Not Be Named... no one was there. I found it odd. Usually, there are a couple of us by now. Anyway, I didn't enter the voice channel. I waited five minutes in solitude outside for someone to show up.

Well, V did. And I wasn't very well going to leave her alone, now, was I?

She greeted me 0.1 second after I joined. I tried not to be awkward about it just being the two of us, I immediately stroke up a conversation. I told her how I was already waiting, all the stuff you guys already know, and she asked if we had any lessons prior. I told her about one third of us having had English just now. We spent about two minutes alone together, as I rambled about the awkward and unfortunate situation and she listened, mostly in silence.

She was very audibly tired, and said very little, that much was to be expected from a 10 AM class. But... I might just be overthinking it, but I heard something there that concerned me. Something crushed and disappointed, something that told me she wasn't expecting only one person to show. There was something painfully lonely in that voice.

Bookworm Friend joined, about 3-ish minutes into class, and Debate Friend a minute or two later, but they were both muted, so I carried on. I asked V to tell us what happened in school in the past two days, what we missed out on, enthusiastically replying to everything I could, so she wouldn't feel like she was speaking into the abyss, so she'd know I was trying my hardest to be there for her. Then she brought up the tests she was correcting at the moment, even naming a really stupid mistake she encountered with a little laugh. But what really smacked me in the gut was when I brought up the small attendance, and she said: "There's nothing we can do." in this very melancholy voice, like she was giving up. She even texted the class group chat that she's waiting.

How do I know that she wasn't just simply tired, and that's why she sounded like that, so worn and discouraged, especially at first? Because as soon as the others, who don't belong in my friends' circle, started showing up, her voice and entire behaviour did a 180°, as if she suddenly woke up. But she didn't. I know for a fact she didn't. Nobody just wakes up that suddenly.

It took me until that afternoon to realise that I'd just spent 5 minutes with the real V, the same V I spoke to in early December, who didn't try to hide her emotions. Not from me.

If you only heard the next thirty minutes of class, you could never tell she was feeling sad to begin with. And there was a LOT to be heard. Starting with how she mispronounced "cheat somebody out of sth" as "EAT somebody out", which is... well... all I'm saying is, I fell on my knees and tried to laugh as silently as I could. Prime moment.

She said something along the lines of "We're all very sober here", after which I just texted my friends:

S: "Darling, you tell us drinking stories every two weeks, would you mind if I didn't believe you?"

and sometime after, this text was also sent, for which I will not be offering context:

S: "[Name], that was enough sex for 10 AM, I'm gonna pass out"

And, of course, after all that went down, V saying "you can't satisfy everyone" sounded VERY different.

At some point, I attempted to joke around, but as she was reading a message in the chat that was sent at the same time, I got quite the half-assed response. But what happened in the last five minutes? Oh, that changed everything.

Art Friend knew how upset I was that V didn't reply at all to my assignment, and I told her I wanted to talk to V about it. During class, she texted me if I still wanted it, and I told her no, because I'm no longer upset with her. And what does this madwoman do? SHE ASKS ABOUT THE ASSIGNMENTS.

V is absolutely enthusiastic, she goes on about how much she liked what she saw and how creative we were. Art Friend asks about hers. Then comes my leap of faith. It's now, or never.

"I hope I didn't go too far..." I said, a bit nervous, not knowing how she'd react. She never did like me trying to undermine myself. And you guys... she chuckled. Incredibly soft and warm and just what I needed to feel at ease. That already threw me off, but then, she followed it up with: "No, I really-really liked it." I could tell she was smiling on the other side of the screen and that she was completely honest. I had to sit down after that, because I just couldn't believe what I heard. That I really just witnessed all that, that I got a reaction I couldn't overthink and/or misinterpret, because I heard it with my own two ears, in real time. I felt like I could do anything in the world.

And yet, the next day, I didn't do my usual notes for her test. Because what did Specs do all evening instead? I was fucking singing. I couldn't deny being a goddamn theatre kid if I tried.

Friday. The day of the test. I'm restlessly taking notes in the morning, but I don't have the time to get into the analytics of poems, only the basics of the dude's life and works. It makes me incredibly frightened, because V's tests are only easy if you come prepared — if you have no clue what she's talking about, abandon all hope. I had absolutely everything open for cheating that I could open, and you guys? I lucked out. Most of the test was just "Explain what [insert quote] means in 2-3 sentences", and if there's something I excel at, as you've probably noticed, it's talking. It was easy as could be.

The only thing making me anxious were my classmates. They were all trying to ask for help, constant questions and begging, everyone is hopeless, because they couldn't give two shits about preparing beforehand. They were all assured some loser was gonna give them the answers. And the some loser was me. I gave it to them, everything except for the final, longer essay. That was private, only meant for V to read. After all, how was I supposed to show them my essay, that ends like this?:

"Even if our existence is finite, it's always worth fighting for happiness."

And yes, yes it is. Always. Look at me. I powered through weeks of a shitstorm, where every single day felt like years, where I no longer knew or cared what was going to happen. And let me tell you, the sun always shines beyond the clouds. You just can't see it yet. But GOD, you will. You will.

I needed time to write this. There's loads going on at the moment, not necessarily V-related, and I'm trying to work my way through it gently enough that I can make it the end sane and healthy. Currently, it's three weeks since all this happened. One and a half weeks left until school ends. I might get to see V in person again, but we'll see how it goes. All I know is that whatever happens, I can do it. Because even if my existence is finite, it's always worth fighting for happiness.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

#tc #tcc #teacher crush community #female tc #female teacher crush

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skyeyaga · 4 years ago

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My Story: Diego

“Who are you?” That’s the question everyone asks me before they talk to me. I have to ask myself that more often, who am I? I don’t really know who I am, all I know is that my name is Diego Mateo Martinez and I’m a 13-year-old boy who is average-looking, not your basic boy model. I was born in Barcelona, Spain- but that’s all I really know about myself. I have green eyes which are unique I guess but people call me cat-eyes so I guess it’s a bad thing. I have messy brown hair that I never bother to brush because what’s the point? I live in New York City in America and I am an orphan adopted into a foster family who aren’t that lovely…“Idiot!” My foster father shouts at me, he’s a plump man with an ugly moustache who has a temper of a boiling teapot. His name? Charles Smith, but I have to call him Mr. Smith. Why is he shouting at me you ask? Because I made too much noise turning the pages of my favorite book- a Series of Unfortunate Events. He thinks reading is for fools but I just think he says that because he’s not smart enough to understand half of those words. “Diego! Stop reading! Put that book down and start cleaning the bathroom!” Bellowed a higher and falsetto voice. That would be Clara Smith, Charles nasty wife. She may look like she would be a nice and sweet woman… She’s not. You might think that cleaning the bathroom isn’t that bad, it’s worse than that if this couple has a lot of stomach troubles, if you know what I mean.

My eyes follow the brush going forward and back, again and again... Wait a minute, I don’t think you really need to know how you clean a bathroom, so let’s just skip to when my night truly begins.

Every night, ever since I was six-years-old I would wait till my horrid foster parents would finish drinking their troubles away and go to bed, then I would get out of my “I’m sleeping-but not really” position. As soon as I flip the blanket off me, you can see that I’m wearing a hoodie and some jeans. I then would tiptoe across the small bedroom and open the door quietly to exit the room. I walk to the front door of the house and I just leave to walk around the crowded city. When I’m roaming around the city, there’s always these shadowy figures just lurking in the alleyways while smoking cigarettes, while every now and then they blow a puff of smoke in the air. I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking that I’m one of those guys. I can assure you, I’m not. I don’t care about all those people, I actually go and take a peek into all the stores. You know those really fancy stores with nice things? That’s what I look at. Then I look into the restaurants that are still open around this time of the night, often there are these families just eating a pleasant meal together. Sometimes, I would just sit outside the restaurant and watch them for hours wishing for the loving and wonderful family I never got to have. I mean, I’m grateful and all that I live under a roof and I at least get something to eat- even if it is scraps from Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I just imagine that I’m a part of one of the families I watch sitting in those restaurants. And no, I’m not a stalker, I’m simply just observing them. I was just enjoying my view of the restaurant until he came along…

Look out for Chapter 2 next Friday!!

#chapter one #chapter1 #chapter 1 #fiction #story #my writing #writer #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #narrative writing #narrative #skyeya #my story #mystory #mystorydiego

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killherfreakout · 5 years ago

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tessellate

an Elu AU where Lucas has a crush on his best friend Eliott, and he finds comfort in the stars. [ao3]

CHAPTER ONE: I tripped over the moon about you

a/n: *potential tw: anxiety attack (during oct 10 - dimanche) stay safe!

Lucas loves Eliott. There’s no doubt about that. He loves Eliott because he is a great friend, his best friend even (Yann doesn’t have to know). The two have known each other since they were young teens; they met when Lucas was 13 and Eliott 14. Although their friendship is of only a few years, it feels as if they have spent a lifetime at each other’s side - like they were destined to be close in their past lives and future ones, too.

OCT 1 - VENDREDI 21:33

It’s the second week of autumn and the air feels crisp, almost cold enough to make their breath visible. Lucas and his friends are at a house party like most Friday nights. He is outside on the porch of a classmate’s house leaning against a post supporting the roof above their heads.

“There you are,” says a voice from the tall boy coming through the patio door.

“Here I am,” Lucas replies, corners of his mouth involuntarily turning up in the presence of Eliott. He hands his friend the joint he’s holding after taking a hit himself.

Eliott raises his eyebrows in a thank you gesture, locking eyes with Lucas as he brings the rolled paper to his lips.

Lucas’ knees weaken at the sight, flicking his gaze down to the space between Eliott’s lips. He watches as they close around the joint then part until a cloud obstructs his view.

He takes it back from Eliott, pinching the paper between his thumb and forefinger and repeats the action. He thinks it’s the closest he will ever be to knowing what Eliott’s lips feel like on his. Wait, why would he think about that? He must be more drunk and/or higher than he thought.

“Lucas, you coming?” Yann yells from across the backyard, where his friends seem to have traveled to sometime after Eliott arrived. One could tell him ten years had passed and he’d believe it.

He spots Arthur and Basile setting up a game of beer pong he promised to participate in earlier that night. It breaks him out of his trance and he nods in Yann’s direction, signaling to Eliott he has to go.

Arthur and Basile somehow beat Yann and Lucas in a best-of-three match. The losing team were ordered to bring snacks from the kitchen, so Yann and Lucas made their way inside.

In their journey Lucas gets roped into hanging out with Chloé, the first year he has been kind of seeing the past two weeks. ‘Seeing’ meaning flirting with and kissing for the first time last Friday.

Lucas has always been good with girls, he knows exactly what to do to get their attention and have them wrapped around his finger in no time. But he isn’t a player by any means; he just tends to lose interest and lets them down easy before things get too serious.

Lucas is busy talking up the brunette in the kitchen when he sees Eliott walk in the patio door. He’s laughing at one of his friend’s jokes, taking a swig of his drink and almost spitting out its contents from laughing. Lucas is so focused on the sweet sound of his laughter filling the house and Eliott’s crinkled eyes in the glow of the party lights that he realizes he missed everything Chloé just said. His stomach fills with an uneasy feeling he can’t quite explain and immediately swallows the guilt that follows. Here he was being distracted by his friend and not paying attention to the pretty girl right in front of his face.

This is not the first time Lucas has felt this uneasiness in his stomach regarding Eliott. They have been friends for years and tell each other everything; Lucas feels most comfortable and most like himself when Eliott is around. But those unexplainable moments still occur every once in a while.

The first time he felt like this was when the first and second year classes went on a trip to the coast for a beach clean up project. They were on a charter bus to go back to Paris after a long day of walking the shore under the spring sun. He promised Eliott they would sit next to each other since Yann wanted Lucas to sit by him on the way there. When they got on the bus and walked to their seats toward the back, their hands brushed as Lucas’ arm swung back and Eliott’s swung forward. And then not even ten minutes later, Eliott was asleep on his shoulder for the entire three-hour ride home. The look on Eliott’s face as he woke up to the bus coming to a halt is what made his stomach flip. Lucas laid in bed that night trying to understand why he felt like that, all to no avail.

That moment on the bus flashed back in his mind when he was trying to regain focus on Chloé making advances on him. He shakes the memory out of his mind, blaming it on the alcohol and weed he’s consumed tonight, and uses every fiber of his being to give his full attention to Chloé. He looks at her from over the brim of his cup of cheap beer, her green eyes sparkling under the soft orange light of the kitchen. Lucas leans in closer to hear her better because now people are chanting and shouting at someone doing a kegstand in the living room.

Lucas set his now empty cup on the counter and downs his third shot of the night before coming close to her ear to ask, “Do you want to go somewhere.. not as.. loud?”

The girl’s lips perk up in a blushing smile as she nods. Lucas takes her hand and she follows him down the hallway to one of the empty guest rooms.

Once inside the room, Lucas makes the first move to put his lips on hers. Chloé brings up her hands to clasp them around Lucas’ neck and he proceeds to kiss her deeper. She starts to plant soft kisses on his cheek then his jaw then one on his neck before Lucas pulls away to shrug his hoodie off. This is how it’s supposed to go, right? She continues down his neck as Lucas begins to unbutton the flowery blouse she has on.

He’s on the last button when the door bursts open. It’s another handsy couple wanting to do exactly what he and Chloé are doing; there’s a guy backpedaling into the room with a girl attached to his lips. Chloé comes up for air from Lucas’ neck to see who dares to interrupt them right now.

Lucas clears his throat and wipes the leftover lip gloss off his lips when the couple stops kissing to look at them. The intruding girl blushes and the guy turns around and - oh shit. It’s Eliott, of all people, with his hair even messier than usual (if that is even possible) and his lips bright red and puffy.

Fuck. Not again. A familiar but uncomfortable feeling strikes again - Lucas’ stomach flips for the second or third time that night and he lets out a shaky breath. Eliott turns away from the girl, who he thinks is named Marie, and looks at Lucas’ hoodie on the floor then at Chloé clutching her blouse shut. He smirks at Lucas as if to say, atta boy, Luc. It’s unnerving and Lucas doesn’t like it one bit.

Lucas backs away from Chloé and swallows, everyone standing there looking at each other in an awkward silence. Lucas picks up his hoodie and heads straight out of the house.

The following realization hits him at the same time the crisp autumn air does: he is relieved that his makeout session with Chloé was cut short, and he wishes he was the one attached to Eliott’s lips barging into the supposedly empty room.

OCT 2 - SAMEDI 10:04

Lucas wakes up with a headache the next morning as the events of last night come rushing back. Lip gloss, shots, hoodie, door, and.. Eliott. Eliott’s laugh. Eliott’s lips letting out the smoke. Eliott’s red and puffy lips. Eliott smirking when he sees him with Chloé. Eliott’s lips, again. Fuck.

He turns over in his bed to grab his phone and, as expected, there are a million texts in the gang group chat from last night.

Lucas rolls his eyes and types out a reply that is only half true.

Lucas contemplates the right way to tell them, no because I don’t actually like girls and I might have a crush on my friend who is a guy haha. So he settles on:

OCT 4 - LUNDI 08:20

Lucas is chatting with the guys in the courtyard at school when he sees Eliott for the first time since the guest room incident.

“Salut,” Eliott greets the whole group then turns to Lucas, “why did you leave so suddenly on Friday? That girl seemed kinda pissed that you left,” he laughs humorlessly at the last part.

Yann and Arthur look at Lucas quizzically, wondering the same thing. Lucas has a constant stomach ache, but this time he knows what it is: anxiety and nerves.

“Oh, I uh..” was jealous of the girl you were making out with, “Felt sick and needed some fresh air. Then I just went home,” Lucas answers, internally cursing at himself. The statement was also half true.

“Oh okay,” he pauses, “Marie was glad you left though,” Eliott nudges.

The nudge from Eliott cuts deeper than Lucas expected. The bell rings and everyone goes their separate ways to class.

15:11

Lucas remembers he made plans with Eliott to study for French Lit when he walks out of his last class. He dreads it, both studying and being alone with Eliott.

He walks to the library where he said they would meet and sees Eliott waiting for him at a table reading his notes, his fingers grazing his bottom lip like he always does when he’s focused or nervous. Lucas exhales deeply and pulls out a chair across from him, a bright smile blooms on Eliott’s face as he looks up. Shit. The pit in his stomach stays the entire afternoon he studies with Eliott.

It subsides when Eliott comes back from the restroom and he notices Lucas gave up on actually studying.

“What are you reading?” Eliott asks as he takes the empty seat across from Lucas.

“Oh, um, just early astronomical theories. Like, before gravity was discovered and they still thought the Earth was the center of the solar system. It’s actually really interesting--” Lucas replies with a smile that is almost audible before he stops.

“You know what, nevermind. It’s stupid. Yann and Arthur basically fall asleep whenever I even start to talk about it,” he adds with a sad smile, tucking his head down.

“Hey,” Eliott says firmly, reaching across the table to rest a hand on his. “If you like it, it’s not stupid.”

Lucas looks up to see Eliott’s gaze fixed on Lucas, burning its way through his skin. He’s never had anyone look at him with such intensity and such care. Lucas hardly ever feels like anyone notices or takes any interest in what he cares about or likes. Sure, he has the gang and the girls, but all of their conversations seem to revolve around who is hooking up with who and when the next party is.

But with Eliott he feels like more than a default option, more than second or third best. It’s comforting and fucking terrifying at the same time.

“I guess,” Lucas shrugs, shifting his hand out of Eliott’s grasp to pick up the book laying flat on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with my fascination with the universe,” flicking his eyes back at Eliott for a moment.

“Whatever you say,” Eliott indulges him.

The ping that comes from Eliott’s phone pops the bubble they occupy.

“Shit, I totally forgot, Sofiane wanted me to help him with this fundraiser for the youth center. But text me if you want to hang and talk about the universe some more.”

Lucas looks up to Eliott standing with his backpack on one shoulder, which would normally make him feel small, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, I will,” chuckles Lucas before turning back to the book that sparked the conversation.

“See you tomorrow, Luc,” Eliott says over his shoulder as he walks to the bus stop.

“Yeah, bye, Eli..ott,” Lucas says, the last part a little too quiet and a little too late. After the events of Friday night, Lucas feels like he is not allowed to use that nickname, feels like he lost the privilege to say it or something.

OCT 5 - MARDI 14:17

Lucas spots Eliott down the hall talking to one of his teachers and Eliott smiles at him. Lucas is looking right at him but doesn’t do anything to respond and looks away. He looks back at Eliott to see him looking at the floor, a little upset. Shit. Why didn’t he just smile back? He’s still his best friend, why is he acting so weird? Lucas kicks himself and that stomach ache is back.

OCT 7 - JEUDI 11:46

Lucas manages to get through the past two days without seeing Eliott at school and, to be honest, he is a bit relieved. He knows that he will just act weird whenever he’s around Eliott again so he’s glad he didn’t have to make it weirder between them.

He couldn’t avoid Chloé though. The universe couldn’t afford him such a luxury; not like they ever do. Chloé taps Lucas’ shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at her, the sparkle in her eyes missing.

“Hey, Lucas, it’s been a while..” Chloé starts, trying to give him a chance to explain himself for leaving her on Friday, blouse open and all.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I felt sick that night and I’ve been super busy with the bac and stuff,” he explains, and it works, seeing as her face brightened up. He knew the bac thing would work, Chloé is in the year below and has that to look forward to next year.

“Oh, that’s okay.. So, do you want to see a movie this weekend or something? There’s this film festival they hold every October on Saturday and I hear it’s really cool,” Chloé suggests excitedly.

The words come out of his mouth before he can think, “Sure, sounds great.”

“Awesome! I’ll see you then,” Chloé adds, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before leaving him in the hallway.

OCT 8 - VENDREDI 14:42

Lucas makes his way over to the bus stop and can’t wait to just chill at the coloc after the week he’s had. So much has happened and so much has changed in the last seven days. From constant nauseousness, a new girlfriend, and, oh yeah, having feelings for a guy, who happens to be his best friend. On top of that, Lucas hasn’t even hung out with the gang since last Friday and a few days at lunch.

His stomach starts to grumble because he skipped lunch to help Daphné and the girls with the foyer. On his way to the bus stop, Lucas decides to get a snack from the vending machine outside.

He thought he could skate by without another uncomfortable situation, but the universe had other plans. Eliott is standing in front of the vending machine, putting coins in and pushing buttons to get his snack. Eliott turns around to sit on the bench near the curb when he bumps into Lucas.

“Sorry,” Eliott exclaims before realizing who he has collided with. A small smile graced his lips.

It’s like he read Lucas’ mind, Eliott sits and hands him one of the chocolate bars he just purchased, almost as a peace offering - for the collision and for the unspoken weirdness between them lately.

Lucas accepts the chocolate and joins him on the bench. They tear open their bars and start to chew them in silence until Eliott asks what he’s been wanting to for a week now.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been distant and quiet lately.”

Lucas can feel Eliott’s worried and kind eyes on him, waiting for an answer. He makes up another excuse for his behavior, which seems to be second nature these days.

“Yeah I’ve been busy with studying for the bac while trying to find a part time job to pick up the rent that my dad isn’t paying. And I haven’t visited my mom in a while...”

Everything Lucas is saying is true, but it’s not the explanation Eliott is looking for nor the one that actually answers his question.

Eliott finishes the chocolate bar and turns to face Lucas. He gives him a half smile, his eyes warm and understanding. It makes Lucas feel at ease for the first time in a week, like he finally has his friend back.

“If you ever need help with anything you know you can just ask, Luc. That’s what friends are for,” Eliott offers along with an elbow to Lucas’ side, his eyes bright now but still just as warm.

Luc. How can one syllable make his stomach turn? The guilt from before comes rushing back, undeserving of such a nickname.

If the universe got one thing right, it’s putting Eliott into his life. He has been nothing but sweet and kind, a constant support system in his life when his mother and father couldn’t be. It boggles his mind how lucky he is to have a friend like Eliott but how unlucky he is to have fallen for him. Lucas feels so much gratitude for Eliott’s friendship and support but can’t help feeling guilty for not taking him up on it. What is he supposed to do, ask Eliott for advice on how to go about coming to terms with having a crush on him?

The bus pulls up to the curb and Lucas is so lost in thought that Eliott has to grab his arm to get him to hop on the bus.

OCT 9 - SAMEDI 15:49

Chloé is wearing a pink dress and the same lip gloss from the party last week. Lucas kisses her quickly and takes her hand as they walk into the huge theatre. Chloé takes a program with the list of films and cast and crew in it, then points to one of the names and decides that is the movie they should see. They sit in the plush red chairs and the lights go down as they settle into their seats, Chloé’s hand still in his.

They are halfway through the movie when Lucas gets up to go to the bathroom. He just can’t keep up the cute romantic act that Chloé wants from him anymore and needs to get out of that packed theatre. Lucas goes to the restroom and feels better instantly, it’s quiet and the air is cooler there. He washes his hands and uses the paper towel to get the sticky lip gloss off of his mouth and cheek where Chloé kissed him randomly during the opening credits.

So much for giving her another shot. Lucas really thought that he could go out with Chloé again and see how cute and beautiful and kind she is, to have those romantic and sexual feelings he knows he should have for her. Lucas looks at himself in the mirror, pressing his lips together in a flat line. He doesn’t know who he is, how to act, or what to do anymore. What happened to the guy that was confident and smooth, what happened to the guy his friends would look to for girl advice, what happened to the Luc who was always Eli’s best friend? Not this again. But this time there’s no stomach ache, no butterflies, nothing. He just feels empty. Like there’s just nothing left of him.

Finally, after what seems to be the longest hour of his life, the lights come up and the credits roll as Chloé turns to him to talk about the ending. Lucas wasn’t paying that much attention to the plot so he doesn’t know what to say, but luckily she’s doing most of the talking anyway. A couple are coming up the aisle to exit the theatre and his heart drops. It’s Eliott, holding hands with another guy.

What is he doing here? Oh, duh, he’s into film and art and it actually makes sense that Eliott would be here. But what is he doing here, with that guy? Who is this guy? And why is he holding hands with Eliott?

Lucas knows full well that Eliott is pansexual and fully supports him. He’s knows Eliott has been with guys before, but he’s never been in a committed relationship with a guy.

And what happened to Marie? If he’s not with Marie anymore, then does that mean the guest room incident was for nothing? Eliott barging in with Marie, that is. Or, maybe, the whole Lucas realizing he has a crush on him thing.

Seeing Eliott holding hands with a guy makes it even worse. A surge of envy courses through his body and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Lucas doesn’t think, just leans forward to capture Chloé’s lips with his and doesn’t let them go. He opens his eyes after a few seconds to see Eliott look his way, then shuts them again, in a far too passionate kiss for being in public, to avoid seeing Eliott’s reaction.

Chloé is dumbfounded, but pleasantly surprised and blushing hard when Lucas pulls away. He takes her hand and they walk out of the theatre, feeling so shitty for what he just did. Why did he do that? To prove something to Eliott? To Chloé? To himself?

Of course, the universe is up to their usual scheme; Eliott and his date are chatting in the lobby with one of the program directors in front of a booth for a film school. Lucas can’t help but smile slightly at the fact that Eliott looks so happy to be talking about film school and wishes he could share this moment with him. It has always been one of Eliott’s dreams to make a film.

Chloé says something but Lucas doesn’t hear. Eliott looks around the room and locks eyes with Lucas again, the latter averting his gaze after a minute. The stomach ache is back with a vengeance.

“How about some gelato? I saw a place on my way over here,” Chloé suggests, and kisses Lucas as they exit the festival.

OCT 10 - DIMANCHE 17:23

It’s a lazy Sunday at the coloc, Manon and Lisa are watching TV on the couch and Mika is laying on the floor on his phone. Lucas gets up from the chair in the living room to get a glass of water when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Shit. The last time Lucas studied for French was almost a week ago, with Eliott. Eliott. He feels guilty for shutting him out this past week, especially after the bus stop the other day.

Before Lucas could reply, another text pops up and it looks like the universe is packing another punch on this fine Sunday afternoon. He walks into his room before opening it.

Next time. If Lucas has to go on another date with Chloé he will actually explode. What excuse could he come up with now? He used to be so good at finessing himself out of too many dates to make sure it doesn’t become anything more than a casual fling. But this isn’t a fling anymore, it’s completely fake, a cover up. He’s using Chloé, and for what? Lucas is not personally getting anything out of it, other than a lot of guilt and anger. And protecting his reputation. Fuck his reputation, he can’t handle this anymore. But how the fuck is he supposed to go about doing this? Tell her that he doesn’t like her, or any girl for that matter? Tell the guys that all of his moves to win over girls were an act? Tell Eliott how he feels?

He can’t. It’s all too overwhelming, too scary, too risky. What if Chloé doesn’t take it well? What if his friends don’t want to be around him anymore? What if Eliott doesn’t? What if Eliott hates him? He can’t lose Eliott as a friend. He can’t lose Eliott.

The thought of it forces a full-on anxiety attack. Lucas doesn’t register the fact that he’s crying until a tear falls onto his phone screen with the message from Chloé still open. He tosses his phone aside and climbs into bed and just lets it all out.

Lucas hears commotion in the living room, reminding him of the presence of his roommates, and makes half a mind to silent his sobs only to realize that he physically can’t. So he keeps crying and hopes that his roommates leave him alone, he’s just too embarrassed and too afraid to explain why he’s reduced to tears.

The universe spares him that, at least. It would just be brutal if they didn’t.

OCT 13 - MERCREDI 13:55

The gang decides to go to the library after school to cram for the French Literature test they have in two days, and Lucas needs all the help he can get. Imane and Emma join them later, and Lucas gets some tutoring out of Imane. She’s awfully nice to him today and he’s a little suspicious about it. Turns out Manon did hear him sobbing last night and it’s also written all over his face, exhausted and lifeless.

The library seems to be the place to be today. Chloé walks by the boys’ table and Lucas hears her friends whisper and giggle, pushing her towards Lucas. Chloé blushes and stands over Lucas still sitting at the table.

“Hi babe,” she greets him and lowers herself to accept a kiss she expects from Lucas. He indulges her, an awkward second later. She tries to brush off the fact that Lucas didn’t reply to her text and that he didn’t seem all that happy kiss her.

“So, I was thinking.. our next date should be like a romantic walk in the park, or something like that, you know, to talk and spend more time together.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas responds unenthusiastically. At this point, he has absolutely no interest in keeping this going any longer. He thinks it will just be easier for her to break things off instead of him.

“How about Friday night?”

“Sure.”

Chloé walks away with her posse, quietly cheering for her. Lucas feels exhausted just thinking about that date. Maybe she won’t be so quick to break things off.

OCT 15 - VENDREDI 11:41

Lucas’ biology class just got out and he stops at his locker for one last look at his French notes before going in for the exam. He tries to read as much as he can in the four minutes he has before one of the biggest exams of the year when he gets a text. He wouldn’t have opened it if not for the screen being right next to his notes and noticing who the message is from.

Lucas smiles like an idiot looking at his phone and laughs at the stupid and charming hedgehog meme. Then warmth spreads in his chest at the message that follows.

The usual is code for joints and beers at Eliott’s, and it’s amazing how he can anticipate exactly what Lucas wants and needs without fail.

The bell is about to ring, so Lucas ditches his phone in his locker and heads to the exam. Turns out the messages from Eliott helped more than a few minutes of cramming ever could.

14:55

Lucas sees his best friend sitting at the bus stop and waits a moment before joining him. He takes a second to take in the way Eliott’s ears are pinkish-reddish from sitting out in the cold, the way his brows are slightly furrowed as he focuses on reading something on his phone, the small black ink stain on the denim covering his right knee, his exposed ankles.

His heart flutters and feels blood rushing to his cheeks. But he’ll blame it on the same weather that colored the ears under Eliott’s perfectly messy hair.

Lucas takes a deep breath and slumps down on the cold bench next to the other boy.

“So? Did you ace it?” Eliott asks eagerly, turning to hand him the chocolate bar he was promised.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I aced it, but I think I did okay,” Lucas gives him an open-mouthed smile. “Because I had the hedgehog cheering me on.”

Eliott lets out a laugh, bright and loud, bigger than the one at the house party a few weeks ago. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and Lucas can’t believe that he’s the one who brought it out. Lucas laughs with him and swears his heart grows two sizes larger.

19:38

The feeling stays with him all night at Eliott’s. The two boys shared a joint and a few beers each before Eliott wants to take Lucas somewhere. They end up walking down a couple blocks to a secluded area with a park behind a locked gate. It’s dark and cold, but Lucas doesn’t care. Okay, maybe he’s a little scared, and maybe that’s why he stays close to Eliott’s side as they go deeper into the woods.

Eliott leads him down a path to a tunnel under a bridge. They lay down on the hard earth and look up at the night sky. It’s the first time in a long time that Lucas feels completely at ease - no stomach ache, no intrusive thoughts clouding his mind, just at ease.

“This is my place. It’s the best place to look at the stars in all of Paris, the city lights and pollution don’t interfere as much here,” Eliott says, soft and warm, the opposite of the ground they’re laying on.

Eliott reaches into his jacket pocket and fishes out his phone with headphones attached. Lucas watches his face illuminated by his phone’s light and takes the right earbud Eliott offers him. They listen to a song in comfortable silence until something comes to Lucas’ mind.

“You know, when you look at the stars, you’re actually looking into the past,” Lucas blurts out. “The stars are so far away that the light we see is from, like, a million light years ago. And we’ll never know whether the star has died and become a supernova or if its light is just beginning to reach us.”

He’s quiet for a while, until he continues: “It’s crazy, right? And almost a bit sad, I think.” A pause. “I mean, it’s like an author or artist whose works aren’t appreciated until after they’re dead.”

Eliott opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t.

Lucas only realizes after how somber his words were, and how he had ruined such a perfect atmosphere with Eliott. His heart sinks and wishes he never said anything.

But, like clockwork, Eliott saves the day.

He shrugs and counters with, “I don’t know... But that’s one way of looking at it.”

Lucas turns his head to face Eliott now, but the latter doesn’t remove his gaze from the maybe-dead stars shining above them. He is stunned by the ease that his friend has coming up with the perfect words to resolve any misstep caused by Lucas. He can almost see the cogs turning in Eliott’s head as he strings those perfect words together, a skill he wishes he could possess.

“Well, the way I figure it, it’s comforting. I mean, with the millions of light years between us and the stars.. Even if we can’t see them, you know they’re still out there,” Eliott adds softly, like it’s a secret you have to be in on to hear.

Lucas subconsciously notes the change between the use of we and you in Eliott’s words and takes in the way his eyes are sparkling from the stars they speak of.

“And yeah, you don’t know when the light is coming, but you know that it will come eventually.”

These words linger in the safe bubble they share before Eliott says firmly, “It always does.”

#i have been working on this for so long!!!#please enjoy and tell me what u think 💞#tessellate fic #elu fic #elu au #my writing #skam france #skamfr #elu #lucas x eliott #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam fr fic #fic

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