#I definitely missed the silly people who live in my phone more than I actually missed this show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Mean (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️✴️🔞

💸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💸 Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut

💸 Warnings: bad language aka cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of illegal business, manhandling and not the nice kind, tsundere Jungkook, it’s not like he likes you duh, guns, description of violence, restriction of movement and not in a kinky way, protected sex because dude he’s got one kid okay that’s enough, unconventional romance, choking, near death experience, angst did I mention angst

💸 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize to anyone I might dissapoint with this. I've changed up the story concept numerous times- and the first trailer is in no way a proper teaser anymore, since it has nothing to do with this story anymore. I somehow hope you still enjoy the story however. If not- I hope you'll stick around for future content!

Taglist: @drumsofheaven @yzkyzkuniverse @strwberrybtch @kirbykook @teresaisla @park-hera-gi @justzeera @taestannie @bambuzlee (there were several people I couldn’t tag- I’m sorry about that!)

Jeon Jungkook was facing his worst enemy.

Now, considering his work and all those rumors going on about him, this could be anything really; from an entire army storming his house, to readying himself for waterboarding. But no, this enemy he was currently standing across from was way more vile and difficult to get under control. The situation was slowly growing desperate on his side- this was a life and death situation.

"Mina, come on now." Jungkook pleaded as the toddler vehemently refused to raise her arms properly so he could slip on her dress for the day. He could understand her, to an extend- he wasn't a morning person either, but he had to overcome this in order to be successful- and she had to as well.

Well, success was not really that important at her age, but getting her to daycare definitely was.

"Mina I have a meeting soon and if you continue to be a brat I can't send you off again properly." He tried, knowing how much she hated him leaving in a rush like usually. He'd promised her the day prior as he'd tucked her into bed that he would, this time, at least stay until her friends had arrived, yet he couldn't have known that this situation would occur the next morning.

Sometimes being a single father was way worse than anything he was facing at his actual job.

"There we go!" He cheered as she finally caved in, pouting a bit before she giggled at the silly face her father was making in order to get her to smile. He hated sending her off in a foul mood, knowing that she could be an absolute devil's child if she felt like it. In a way, she was very similar to him, which was to be expected with her mother not being in the picture. He didn't mind it much, however- a cheating spouse was not really what he wanted by his side, if he was being entirely honest with himself. It was enough already knowing that almost all of his 'friends' and 'business partners' were shameless liars. He didn't need to live and raise a child with one as well.

"Tiger!" The young girl cheerfully exclaimed, as the both made their way into the kitchen. It wasn't just a random comment from her side, because her chubby hand already pointed at the cereal box designed with colorful images on the counter, way too high for her but perfectly reachable for her father as he chuckled, balancing her on his hip as he prepared a small bowl for her.

"No funny business though, young lady." He said, as he sat down with her at the table. "We don't have to hurry, but we can't waste time either." He explained, as he watched her eat her breakfast with a concentrated face. He smiled at the picture, sometimes wishing this would be how his days would always start. Sadly, that wasn't the case- most of the times really, her nanny took her to daycare.

Which was another problem.

Her nanny had recently filed in for her termination, her age getting to her as she finally made the decision to settle down for her last years of life, she'd said. He accepted it without much resistance, having build too much respect for the elderly woman over the course of time by now. It left him with a gaping hole however, one that he knew he needed to fill.

But with who?

He couldn't just hire anybody for Mina at this point in his life. People needed to be fully trustworthy to be even given knowledge of his child at all. Most didn't even know she existed- the public unaware of her relation to him. He kept the facade up that she was merely the child of a close friend, just to keep her out of range of any potential enemies he had gathered over time.

His life really wasn't fit for a child at all, but what was he supposed to do?

"Y/N!" A small voice exclaimed behind you, making you look around from where you were cutting apples as the small child appeared.

"Mina!" You answered just as brightly, picking her up as she giggled excitedly. "Did you have breakfast yet?" You asked, as another daycare worker came inside.

"Yeah!" She said, and you looked at her surprised. "Daddy and I had breakfast!" She explained, as you placed her back down onto the ground. "He'ven brought me here today!" She said, and you hummed affirmatively,

"That sounds awesome!" You said, as she beamed up at you. "Why don't you go sit at the table, we're almost having our morning snack. You think you can eat some apples?" You asked, and she proudly nodded, before zooming off, stumbling a bit as she missed the slight gap of the door.

"He didn't come inside." Jenny said, as she watched the little girl sit down next to a boy her age. "I saw that he was sitting in his car, but she got out herself." She explained further, as you continued cutting the apples and making some cuts to have them resemble a bunny. "I swear to god-" She started, as you cut her off.

"We don't know what his life is like, Jenny." You said, as she huffed. "It's not our kid, it's not our life. She isn't unhappy, she's healthy, she's not mistreated. Case closed." You explained further as you discarded the scraps of apple unneeded in the trash, before rinsing the knife you'd used. "I'm not too happy about it either, but we're not her mother." You said, as you dried your hands.

Jenny sighed. "I know, but like-" She said, walking over to you to help you place the banana slices and grapes as well. "She's such a sweet kid. I don't know, but he seems like such a dick honestly. Like, have you heard his phonecall last week?" You snorted. Everyone did at this point.

Mina had had a minor incident, when she'd stumbled and fell. She'd scraped her knee, cried a little, but after a moment everything had been fine again. He however, had been livid upon finding out his daughter had been hurt, even though the scratches didn't even need a bandaid. Even though he'd only been on the phone with your superior, he'd made such a scene out of it that it became like local news around the daycare.

"I still don't know what the fuck that was about." Jenny exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept an eye on the kids in the main room. "Like, yeah, she fell, but nothing happened." She said, and you agreed.

Shrugging, you grabbed some plates and napkins, and looked at Jenny. "Again." You reminded her. "As harsh as it sounds, you know me." Jenny sighed.

"I know."

You took back everything you had said this morning.

This prick had the audacity to keep you waiting for more than two hours now, without reacting to any amount of phonecalls you'd done by now. Mina was almost asleep on your lap, and you were angry to say the least. This was supposed to be your last day of work for a week, you were supposed to be curled up on your couch in nothing but underwear and fluffy socks, hidden by a blanket and eating icecream while watching netflix. You were definitely not supposed to sit here at your daycare until even the janitor was about to go home. "Fuck it." You mumble, carefully balancing the young girl on your hip as you grab your bag and keys.

You wave the janitor and cleaning staff goodbye on their way out, and take out your phone for a bus or subway that could drive close to where Mina's address is- but you notice there is nothing in her jacket written that you could use as one. You instead simply call the number written down for emergencies, and wait as it rings.

once.

twice.

"Hello?"

You are a bit taken aback by the voice on the other line, masculine, but clearly not as old as you'd thought he'd sound. "Uh, yeah, this is Mina's daycare, you mind picking her up these days, or not?" You casually say, Mina moving around a bit as to bring her thumb close to her lips. You internally coo at her.

"Shit! Fuck- I, where are you?" He asks, and you furrow your brows. Where the hell does he think you are, or does he seriously not know where his daughters daycare is? Wait, is that even her father?

"I- listen, am I even talking to her father or who is this?" You ask, and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. This was a bad idea, what if this isnt her dad at all? You could loose your job for this!

"Yeah, yes. Listen I'm gonna send someone to pick her up alright? Should be there in an hour or so." He says as if frustrated, and you scoff, making him question you on the other line as if he was just struck by thunder. "Excuse me?" He says, voice low, but you're not intimitated.

"First of all, I'm not convinced. Second of all, and pardon my french, but are you nuts?! It's already way too late for her to be up, and I've finished my shift hours ago!" You complain, and he clears his throat over the line, clearly unhappy about your lack of understanding.

"Jeon Mina has a small beauty mark underneath her lower lip, she hates strawberries for some reason, and her biggest secret is that she is actually scared of unicorns. There, happy?" He grits out, and you chew on your lip. He was good. "Second of all, Miss." He makes sure to pronounce every word. "You're getting paid to look after my kid. If that's all you want I'm paying you extra for the inconvenience-" Oh boy, there we go.

"If I cared about your stupid money I would've called authorities hours ago, S.I.R." You start, careful to tone your voice down as to not wake her up. "And you know what, thats a great Idea actually! Let me just-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a sound that sounds awfully like a door closing.

"Fuck you, I'm there in 20." He says.

Jeon Jungkook was not too fond of woman.

That much was clear ever since he'd been cheated on and left with a kid, but it had always been like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of them, or didn't like them, it was more like, during his life, woman had been the reason for heartbreak and bad news all along. His mother had been an alcoholic, his dad desperately trying to get her back on track. His sister had been involved into shady business early on, a wild child that would do anything to get on peoples nerves. His aunt, which only ever visited to gain money. Women were bad news.

So his own surprise had been very prominent when he spotted you on the bench with his kid in your arms,her chubby arms clinging onto you like a koala. You seemed to be reading something on your phone, careful not to point the device too close to Mina so she wouldn't be disturbed. You were pretty, he had to admit that, even from far away- and you seemed like a confident person, from what he'd heard over the phone. You suddenly noticed him as he drove a bit closer, car tires crunching the gravel and snow underneath while his headlights shut off, to not blind you both. He stepped out, as you woke Mina up to announce to her that her father had finally arrived.

"Daddy!" She screached sleepily, running towards him with stumbling legs. He picked her up with a smile before he turned around, having every intention to buckle her up in his backseat as you came closer.

"Huh. Mind telling me why I shouldn't inform authorities about this?" You asked, and he huffed out a breath with a roll of his eyes, pulling out his wallet. You simply stood there, arms crossed, not at all fazed by the amount of money he held in front of you- you simply raised your eyebrow. "I mean, if money could talk I'd ask your bills, sure. But that right there isn't an answer." You replied, and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. Why were you being so difficult.

"Okay, how much?" He said, and you suddenly moved, shifted, as if absolutely offended by his offer.

"Do I look like a streetworker to you sir?" You said, and he closed his eyes for a moment, until another car seemed to pull up.

"You're getting picked up." He says, ready to step into his car as you look at him with confusion. "You don't know them?" He asks, and you shake your head, having every intention to check as he notices something familiar peeking out of one of the car windows. As if on autopilot, he rips his passenger side open, pushes you in, and runs to get inside the drivers seat.

There are shots fired, Mina is holding her hands over her ears as she simply stares at you, who is absolutely shell-shocked.

What the hell just happened?

So yeah, that's how you got here-

In a room that looked awfully like the interrogation rooms in your late night netflix crime shows. There was someone sitting in front of you- Mina's father, watching you, like you were going to do anything. But you were as quiet as a mouse, not saying anything.

"So you didn't know them? At all?" He questioned for the second time in the past ten minutes, and you shook your head. "Hard to believe. Then again, why would you ever tell me that your Dad's brother was sentenced to two years for escorting drugs- only getting two years because he snitched." He said, and your eyes widened.

"Okay what the hell-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Oh, I hit a nerve-" But you weren't having it.

"Oh an I'm gonna hit your pretty nose if you don't stop cutting me off!" You said, making him smirk. For some reason, this was quite entertaining to him- the only woman he ever had in here were so keen on keeping up that shy and innocent facade, that you were a breath of fresh air. "Listen, I don't know why you decided to dig up things that happened when I was literally a TODDLER- or how you even got that information - I swear to god I will really break your nose!" You ended as he had tried to speak again, making him chuckle.

If you weren't being held captive after getting your night ruined you might as well would've thought that was pretty hot.

"I was five years old- I had nothing to do with it, and my dad had no contact whatsoever with his brother after what had happened." You explained. "If you can find that, you can also find that I haven't had contact with my family in years either." You said, leaning back, as he spoke.

"I did. Which is quite confusing to me." He said.

You suddenly went stone cold on him. "It really isnt that deep." You said.

"Were you avoiding them?" He asked. "Because of what happened? Or because your dad got involved into something?"

"Because they're dead." You said.

Well. This was something that made him actually stop and think for a second. He did dig into that nasty part of your family, but he never looked further- their death was something he had overlooked. And by your reaction as you said it, the way you said it, he knew that you weren't lying. "Alright." He said. "But you do realize that I can't just let you go like that, right?" He said.

"Figured." You said. "So, should I stand facing against the wall or with my back against it so you can aim better?" You said, and he took a deep breath. Technically, yes, that would be a logical outcome.

"Neither." He said, and you raised your eyebrow. "I have an offering." He said, and your entire body went stiff, arms crossing in front of your chest. A pure sign of whatever he was going to say, your first reaction would be no. "I need a nanny for Mina." He said, and your lips parted, confusion clear on your face.

He almost thought it was kind of cute.

"You what?" You said.

"I need a nanny for Mina." He repeated. "It's a win-win situation for both of us if you think about it. You get to- in a way- keep your job and a bonus in terms of payment, and I will have someone to take care of Mina. And I also don't have to put a bullet into your pretty little head." He said, leaning forward with the last words.

"This isn't really a question, isn't it?" You said, and he laughed.

"You're smart- I like you."

„But that’s not how daddy does it..“ she wonders, as you tie her shoes for her, before looking up into her eyes. She really does resemble her father. Well, a more innocent version, that is.

„Well everyone does it differently.“ you say, well aware that there were numerous ways to tie a simple bow. „Your daddy probably has learned it from someone who does it like he does. I learned it from my dad.“ you explained as you went to pick up her backpack, carrying it for her as she took your hand.

„yours looks prettier tho!“ she exclaimed happily, a skip in her step as she kept looking at her shoes with a smile. You grinned, a sense of pride filling you. „Daddy‘s always looks crooked on one side-„ she said, before a voice broke through the sweet moment.

„You hurt me Princess. You always said they look nice.“ he hummed from his spot in the doorway, leaned on the frame, looking at you with something you could only describe as unsatisfied, while shooting his daughter a smile.

What the hell have you done wrong now?

This had been something going on for months now. Ever since you started working for him as a nanny, Mina had been nothing but a ray of sunshine- but he, he was not even a raincloud. He was the angry grinch miltiplied by a hundred, ready to piss everyone off twenty-five-eight. Somehow everything you did wasn't up to his standards; the way you cooked for Mina, the way you dressed her, hell, even right now with the way you tied a fucking bow.

You really hoped next time he washed his hands, his sleeves would roll down.

"There's an emergency gun underneath the back-" He started as Mina was out of listening-reach.

"I won't use it." You said.

Jungkook had tried to get you trained at least in the basics of guns- but you practically had an allergy to it, refusing to so much as touch one. He didn't quite know what your problem was, but after a while, he had given up on it- simply sending one of his guards with you whenever he could. By now, you were an easy target as well if found alone, so you had joined him in his place, occupying one of the larger guest rooms. He had said that it was to keep an eye on you, but internally, he simply didn't want you to get hurt.

And yeah, at first that was because he didn't trust you, at all- but by now, somehow, you had sneaked your way into his heart, in a way. Even though he himself would always grumpily comment on it, he loved how you made Mina smile and the entire mansion light up. Things felt a little brighter, a little less tense, and a little less lonely with you around. It felt as if you were an actual family.

And that scared the shit out of him, because in no way was he going to fall for his daughters nanny.

And, after all; you hated his guts.

If Jungkook knew the situation you and Mina had gotten yourselves into, you don't know if he would be proud of her or kill you.

Turns out that the guard Jungkook had sent you out with wasn't actually following his orders at all, but words from a different person entirely- you imagined they were highly likely the one's out to shoot you back when you first met the tall mafia boss and father. Now, the only thing they definitely did not get right however, was that you were Mina's mother- and someone Jungkook valued enough to give up his safety. This was true for Mina; the young child was his everything, and he'd cut off his limbs just to know her safe and sound- but you? That was just absolutely stupid. Sure, you've been living together for quite some time now, and he stopped trying to mentally push you down the stairs every morning as well. But there was nothing more than a mild case of friend- and partnership. You weren't being emo; Jungkook had, after all, said it again and again that he had crossed out the dating game. He's got enough trouble with Mina and you, he had said.

Well, seemed like one of those issues would solve itself.

"Again, what're you gonna do?" You say, as Mina looks at you from out of the vents above you had helped her into seconds ago.

"Crawl where the nice air is, call daddy- and don't look back." She repeats proudly, but you can see it clearly that she's just as scared as you are.

"Exactly, good job princess." You praise, and she nods with a pout. "Once daddy gets you, you'll be safe." You promise, and she wants to complain- but you don't let her, closing the vent again as you hear her shuffling away. This was fine. Mina would be safe, Jungkook would have one person less to worry about- he could move away, bring her to a different part of the country where no one knew her, and she could simply go to school next year and forget all of this ever happened.

You were just a bit sad that you'd never get to see it.

Of course you weren't her mother- but it was hard not to let her inside your heart, with the way she was. The charms her dad didn't have, she got them times ten. She was just so sweet, and you were around her all the time, it was hard not to somehow grow fond of her. You just hoped she'd be alright.

"Where's the kid, whore?!" A guard yelled after noticing you were the only one left in the room. You simply smiled, not answering, before he grabbed your neck, pulling you up as much as he could as he fumed. "Save that stupid grin for your son of a bitch at home." He barks, and you desperately try to breathe- unsuccessfully so, until he forcefully pushes you back down, the back of your head hiding the concrete floor with a sickening crack. You squealed out in pain, holding onto the spot for dear life as if that would somehow help it- but it didn't. "I knew sluts like you have to be tied up. You're all just trouble." He says, pulling you by your legs as another set of people come in, binding your legs and hands. You can already feel your fingers getting cold from how tight your wrists are tied- but you black out from the kick to your stomach before you can quite dwell on it.

"Fuck!" He yells, before he gets up, hands in his hair to somehow help himself not punch the laptop on his table. He's seen it, seen it all- from the moments you would shield Mina like a fearless lioness, the second you had lifted her up into the vents even though he knew your shoulder had to be in horrible pain, to the very moment you had faced the consequences of your actions. He hated that he had to wait, that he had to simply sit here in his office like a coward just to watch you take the beatings.

Because here was the thing with Jungkook; even though he liked to portray himself as someone who always takes the upper hand in things and troubles, when it came to his own personal life far away from his criminal business he ran, he couldn't seem to ever make up his mind. It was like a repeat of his past love affair- but instead of his ex-wife cheating and leaving him with a child, there was you, in some way fighting like a true lionness in order to keep said child safe and sound, even though you didn't even had to. Technically, this would've been the perfect opportunity for you to finally get your freedom back in a way. Because without Mina, there was no use for you being in his grasp anymore. Without her, there was no agreement between the two of you.

And yet there you were. And yet again, he simply watched, simply did nothing.

The entire mansion was already on high alert by now; his most trusted friends Seokjin and Yoongi already out to your location- he could wait. He could wait. He could wait.

Everything would somehow turn out to be just fine by the end of this day. He would successfully take his daughter into his arms, Yoongi and Seokjin would get you out of there, and after a good nights sleep and some first aid for you, things would just return to normal.

But what was normal at this point?

He didn't want things to continue like they did currently. He wanted change, for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you about his inner thoughts, about his desires concerning you and his future. He wanted to tell you that he didn't just want you to be at his home and with him and his daughter just because of some stupid agreement. He didn't want you to stay with him because he forced you to.

His phone began to chime, your face greeting him as the caller ID as he accepts it. "Daddy-" His heart sinks down to the floor as he hears Mina sniffle on the other side of the line. He has to wait, he thinks, repeats like a mantra. He has to somehow calm her down, tell her everything's alright- "They're hurting mommy!" Mina wails, and somehow, those words make him snap.

Fuck waiting.

In a way, Mina was a smart kid. She had been nothing but understanding when Jungkook and her mother had broken up- divorced, and fought until she eventually left for good. She had been a little sad for a long time, thinking it had somehow been her fault; but he had assured her, and later on, explained, that Mommy simply didn't love Daddy anymore. In Daycare, she was one of the most well behaved kids ever encountered- careful, and calm. Of course she got excited and happy and sometimes made a mess; but she also was very careful who she interacted with, what kinds of friends she made, and how much she talked about home. She never complained, never threw public tantrums.

Jungkook truly was lucky- that the only thing left of his shattered marriage had been her.

He never had relationships after that- never dated, never truly searched for someone. No one, in his eyes, was worth the risk- and even after meeting you, that was his opinion. But as cliche as it sounded, you were quite different from anyone he'd ever met before.

You spoke your mind; always saying what bothered you, never beating around the bush. Yet, you weren't being a bitch about things. No, you actually could be pretty cute if you wanted to be- be it the moments he had caught you and Mina sneak a taste of her birthday cake in the middle of the night, or the one time he had been sick.

You had been such an angel to him.

Helping him towards the bathroom, never even scrunching your nose in distaste whenever he had to throw up. You simply rubbed his back, helping him towards the sink to rinse, just to lead him back into his bedroom. You had aired the room out, made the bed, made sure that he was staying hydrated and at least tried to eat every day- all without any complains.

Maybe that was the moment his perspective of you shifted into dangerous territory.

He had somehow become hyperaware of the things you did. How well you got along with Mina, how easy going you were becoming with him- how confident yet nurturing and sweet you were, gently scolding him sometimes to not overwork himself. You always made sure his kid felt happy and was healthy, never so much as whined about your past friendships lost; you had simply accepted the new situation.

In a way, you were what he silently dreamed of at night.

Because as much as he loved the sight of you holding Mina whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, he somehow also craved to be held throughout the night by your arms. Just like he held his daughter in that moment after she had climbed out of the vent into his arms. He could make out some of her words as he simply let himself feel her tiny body in his arms for a moment. Just to make sure she was really there, really alright, really out of harms way. She kept on crying out for you, for him to help you, to save you-

So it was only natural for him to jump out of his car and run after Seokjin, Yoongi, and their squad, as they entered the building.

Sometimes at night, when you got aware of all the different sounds of the room, you heard the blood rush inside your brain.

Just like now; but now, it was so loud that you could barely hear anything else. Things seemed hazy, fuzzy, your ears stuffed with cotton wool drowning out any sounds might happening around you. Your eyes stayed closed, light way too bright for your raging headache- and the stale metal taste on your tongue wasn't helping either. Your hands had started to tingle long ago, and your knees were hurting from being in the same position for this long. But the moment someone touched you next, it wasn't forceful. It was so gentle, and almost- scared?

You couldn't hear, but you could feel. How the rope was cut, blood rushing painfully into your hands and legs again, pins and needles making them hypersensitive as you were suddenly held- moved, carried?

It smelled like home, that was something your dizzy mind was able to properly make out. It smelled like Jungkooks mansion, and a bit like his office- a faint vanilla hitting your senses, making you faintly smile as your hand reached out, unknowingly grabbing his shirt, holding the fabric as tight as you could as you moaned out in pain when he placed you down again, warmth surrounding you.

Maybe you were dying?

Or maybe not.

Because after some hazy and confusing dreams, you slowly came back to your senses. Eyes opening slowly, there it was; the curtains you knew so well, the balcony opened, air crisp and fresh around you as the door opened. You wanted to move your head, but the fear of triggering another headache was too big.

"Y/N?" Jungkooks voice asked, warm, and almost hesitant. You hummed, and he snapped his head around, noticing that yes- after days of sleeping and slipping in and out of consciousness you were actually awake again. He walked into your field of vision, looking so casual; his white button up undone at the first two buttons, sleeves rolled up as he sat down close to you, palm on the blanket covering you as he-

smiled?

"W-" You had to cough a bit before clearing your throat. "Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?" You said, and he chuckled, sighing in relief- you had, after all, not lost your charm.

"I think past Jungkook had a moment of self-reflection." He said, watching you as his hand placed itself onto yours, warmth spreading over your skin. "I'm glad you're okay." He admitted. "And thank you. For keeping.. Mina safe." He ended, and you smiled.

"That's literally my job." You said, and he got more serious.

"No, and you know what I mean." His voice was deep and rough, yet held no authority like usual. "You had chances to tell them who you were. That you had no connection to me other than through her; yet you didn't. And we both know why." He said, and you looked at him.

"There are more reasons than just one." You said, eyes drifting to his now empty ring finger on the hand resting on his thigh.

"Does it matter which one I mean?" He asked, and you wanted to scoff.

"It does to me." You said, and he shifted closer after a second, properly holding your hand now as he looked at yours- still a little scratched, but nothing that wouldn't heal.

"You did it because that's the reason you live here." He said. "You also did it because you adore her just as much as I do. And you.." He began, but grew unsure.

"And I?" You smiled, and he looked at you with his typical seriousness.

"And you somehow got stuck in an emotional mess." He explained. "You somehow, deep down, wanted it to be true." His thumb moved over the back of your hand as he spoke. "You wished that.. maybe there was more to it than just, partnership." He said, and you still smiled gently.

"Did I now?" You teased, but to your surprise, he was still looking straight at you.

"I know I did." He humms out. "I still do."

"You're stupid." You said, and he laughed bitterly, taking your words the wrong way as he slipped his out of yours.

"I know." He said, getting up to leave but stopped as you spoke.

"Good." You said, chuckling before coughing. "What, no kiss for me after all I've been through?" You giggled as his wide eyes stared at you. "Rude." You said, and he suddenly realized that no- you weren't rejecting him. You were accepting.

You felt the same.

Noticing his own awkwardness, he leaned over, hands supporting his body as he leaned down, properly placing his lips onto yours. You had never imagined what kissing Jungkook would feel like, but you certainly would've never guessed how gentle and absolutely loving it would be. One of his hands moved towards your cheek, holding it, as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Mommy!" Came Mina's excited voice, cries instantly noticable as she jumped onto the bed, burying her head into your chest as you held her, a few tears in your eyes from her jumping.

"Mina baby, be careful okay?" He said. But your words were the reason that he ended up tearing up, at the end.

"Mommy's still hurting baby." You said. "But she'll get better soon."

Not even during the first few magical months of being together with his past ex, had it ever felt like this.

He was euphoric almost; with the way you felt, moved, breathed. It all felt like so much to him, made him feel so.. He couldn't explain it. He had his hands on your hips, fingers careful not to press too hard, but having enough force to move you back and forth over his lap- his length moving in and out of your heat, making you whine, as he watched your breasts in front of him. You fit so perfectly like this, felt so amazing, managed to make him feel needy instead of the other way around.

He turned you over slipping out of you sloppily as he moved positions, now above you as he spread your legs, entering you again easily. He pulled you by your thighs, holding you in place as he began to thrust again, your eyes closing with every movement of his hips.

He loved the sight of it.

Deep down he wanted to take the condom off; he wanted to fill you up, cum inside over and over and over until your cunt would overflow. Not only just to claim you in a weird animalistic sense, but to also make his family complete. He had cut his ties to his illegal activities by now, had settled down with you- and he knew, there was no other person he'd ever have a child with again than with you. "I want to cum inside." He said breathlessly, making you whine in return. "Hm, you'd like that?" He asked teasingly, his thrusts gaining more strength as if to underline his statement. "Stuff you full of my cum, make you leak it and mess up the sheets.." He continues, hand reaching between the two of you to find your clit. "just to make love to you over and over again. I wanna make you cry." He gritted out, suddenly moving you around face down. He pulled up your lower body, entering you again, gliding in easily with the amount of slick you were leaking. "And you'd take it wouldn't you?" He asks, making you nod and groan out as he grows more desperate, faster, harder- throwing you off the edge but never stopping. "You're gonna take it until I cum, don't you dare move away from me." He scolds, holding you tightly, making you gasp out in overstimulation as he continues on, chasing his own high.

He reaches it with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside as he holds you, peppering kisses onto your spine. "I love you, hm.." He whispers out. "So good, so pretty.. all mine.." He huffs, simply falling onto the mattress with you in his arms, cock still buried inside you.

There was a moment of silence, until he spoke again. "I really do mean it though." He said earning only a tired humm from you. He simply chuckled at that, holding you close as he decided to maybe bring that topic up when the timing was a bit better.

For once, he felt like a normal person. Right next to you, in your arms, as you turned around to pull him close, burying your face into his chest.

Right where he belonged.

#jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jk imagine #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years ago

Text

But professor… - c.3

Summary: Penny goes to Walter's loft, so he could help her out with some school assignments

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Walter and I agreed that he would pick me up from the train station nearby and when I near the vacant parking lot, I can already see him waiting in his truck. He holds up his hand, a sign that he saw me too and I hurry towards the enormous vehicle. I barely see trucks this large here in New York, making me assume he actually brought this with him from Minnesota. Maybe he even moved here with this thing, the trunk stuffed with his belongings.

Though I highly believe this man actually didn’t bring a lot of stuff with him. He doesn’t seem like the type to be very materialistic.

When I open the door, I can’t possibly hide my smile.

Of course I thought about this for awhile (it’s all I thought about the entire class) and debated whether or not this would be a good idea. While this is definitely not a great idea, it doesn’t feel weird or scary. I mean, my mom certainly wouldn’t approve of this and I think my dad would have a stroke if he found out what I was doing.

Is this how people get murdered? Am I too naive?

I don’t think so. I trust Walter. He is a nice man and I’ve been with him alone in his office two times now. That wasn’t scary, he isn’t giving me bad vibes.

Going to his loft shouldn’t be that much different.

‘How were your classes, Penny?’ Walter asks.

A scoff leaves my lips. ‘It was horrid,’ I mumble, placing my backpack in-between my legs. ‘Professor Carter really likes hearing himself speak.’

‘That,’ he says, starting his car, ‘is true. I hate that guy.’

I chuckle. ‘Hate is such a strong word,’ I tell him. ‘I’d like to say he is simply hard to like.’

Walter smiles. ‘Of course.’

I fumble my thumbs as they are placed on my lap, taking in a breath. I’m really nervous, which is completely unnecessary. I feel safe around Walter, I feel noticed around him. It’s nice being noticed, especially by someone like Walter.

‘I didn’t know if you want something,’ Walter says, ‘so I got you some chocolate and cookies. If you don’t like that, please tell me. I can make a small detour to the grocery store.’

‘No, chocolate and cookies are perfect.’ I run my fingers through my hair, as Walter soars over the roads. His driving style fits him perfectly. He is impatient, quick and breaks abruptly, instead of slowly, a complete one eighty compared to my driving style. ‘You’re not gonna kill me, right?’

Walter starts to laugh and it’s the first time I actually see him putting his guard completely down. His eyes are smaller, the little crowfeet appear near them. ‘Of course not. I would lose my only student with sense.’

I lean back against the seat, as I watch how we get deeper into the city. I’m usually never in this part of town. I look to the side, admiring Walter’s beautifully sculptured face. The beard kinda hides it, but I know that his face is close to perfection.

‘You’re staring,’ he says, his eyes not once leaving the road.

Oh dear, I totally am. How incredibly rude of me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I quickly apologize.

‘It’s not a problem. Kinda cute actually.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You always stare in class,’ he says. ‘When things get a little gore, you start to blink really fast, you scrunch up your nose and try to stare at your fingers, but you don’t want to be rude and miss something, so you look up again. Only this time you’re squinting and you make a pretty poor attempt of hiding your disgust.’

‘Wow,’ I chuckle. ‘That’s specific.’

‘Noticing the smallest details is important in my line of work. Tell me what I do during class.’

I swallow as I try to think about everything he does in class. ‘You never look at people when you call out their name. It usually takes around a second or two, before you tear your gaze away from whatever you’re looking at. You are quite insulting when it comes to stupid answers.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You either scoff or roll your eyes,’ I note. ‘Besides, you always look bored, even when someone makes a good point.’

‘That’s because I am,’ he retorts.

‘Teaching really isn’t your thing, is it?’

He snickers. ‘Oh no. You could say I hate it with a passion. But if I do this, I could one day maybe work in the force again. It’s just a little in between jobs.’

‘You miss it, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he answers. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever missed something that much.’

‘You miss Minnesota?’

He shakes his head. ‘I mean, a little of course, but New York is great too.’

‘Are you married? Or do you have someone?’ I ask.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I haven’t met her yet,’ he says. ‘Besides, I’m picky. You got a boyfriend?’

I can’t even stop my laughter. ‘No, of course not,’ I answer. ‘There is no one that likes me anyways.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he says in a pretty harsh tone. ‘You’re a lovely girl and any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend.’

My cheeks burn up. ‘You think so?’

‘I know so, Penny. Let me tell you this: you are amazing, smart and the guy you end up with is gonna be one lucky man, since you’re probably out of his league anyway.’

He really thinks so?

Walter parks his car in the parking garage underneath the apartment building and he tells me to wait, as he gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the door for me.

‘I can open my own door, you know?’

‘I know,’ he chuckles, gesturing to hand over my bag. ‘But I couldn’t do it back at the station, so humor me for a second, okay?’

‘Of course.’ I grab his hand and he helps me out the car. Together we walk towards the elevator and I nervously roll my ankle, as we wait for the elevator to arrive at the right floor.

It abruptly stops and we walk out towards his door. He pushes it open, telling me to go in first.

His loft meets up to the expectations I had. Boring. Nearly empty. Only decorated with the necessities. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘This is exactly what I thought it would be.’

Walter hangs his coat over the back of the chair. ‘Is that so?’

I let the material of my own jacket slide off my shoulders. ‘Mhm, you have very little taste.’

‘I’d like to call it minimalistic,’ he retorts, as he takes my jacket from me hands. He tells me to sit and relax, while he makes us some tea.

I carefully take place on his couch, looking around me. Thankfully he removed all the eventual crime scene photos, files or anything related to the gory side of police work.

‘Here you go.’

‘Thank you,’ I say to Walter as he sits next to me, placing the tea on the coffee table. The couch cushion I’m sitting on, slightly dips to the right as he takes place. I have to tighten all my non existent muscles to not slide towards him, however I am not very strong, nor fit, so I bump against his side. ‘Sorry,’ I say.

‘It’s okay. Tell me, what are subjects that you struggle with.’

‘Everything,’ I admit.

He smiles. ‘Then I shall help you with everything.’

✎ ✎ ✎

My brain hurts from all the things Walter says to me and the way he answers all my questions. It’s so sweet and considerate of him to literally minimize everything to a level I could understand it. I take off my glasses as I rub my eyes. Walter has placed his arm on the armrest, our bodies closer than I’ve ever been to someone who I thought was attractive.

‘This isn’t working,’ Walter says, when it’s obvious I’m not registering anything anymore. ‘You need a break.’ He places my laptop and papers on the coffee table and stands up. He ushers me to follow him and I nearly run after him, since he’s taking such large strides.

‘Where are we going?’

He slides open the doors that lead to a little balcony. It’s just as boring as the rest of his place, but the view on the other hand is absolutely lovely. I walk towards the balustrade, holding the cold metal as I look over the city.

‘Wow,’ I say, ‘this is so beautiful.’

He smiles as he stands next to me. ‘It sure is.’

‘I’ve never saw the city like this,’ I say.

‘Where you’re from originally?’

‘Maryland,’ I answer. ‘But New York is really fun as well. Maybe even more so, if I’m being honest.’

‘I’ve never been there,’ Walter says, placing his underarms on the balustrade, so we’re around the same height. He looks to the side, at the same time the wind blows. He chuckles, when strands of my hair slap him across the face.

‘Sorry,’ I smile, as I try to contain the wild hairs.

He holds out his hand, pushing back a strand behind my ear. ‘That’s okay, Penny. You like it out here?’

‘Yes, I really do. It’s nice to take a bit of a breather. I’m sorry I am not really getting it.’

‘No, don’t be silly,’ he says, ‘you’re doing great. It’s my teaching skills that are lacking.’

I bite my lip as I take in his entire face. He is so close, just like he was back in the living room. He placed his arm on the backrest of the couch, his body so close near mine, that I could smell his lovely cologne.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he softly admits, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear.

‘Oh,’ I whisper, slightly taken aback, ‘really?’

‘Really. You have your phone with you?’

I pull it out of my back pocket. ‘Yes, why?’

‘Allow me to memorize this moment for you.’

It’s a slightly odd request, but I give him the phone and he takes a few pictures of me. For some reason, I don’t feel awkward. Usually I take pictures by myself or I let my mom take one, but that’s only the case when she wants to make a picture for her friends to show me off.

With Walter behind the camera, I’m relaxed and not so nervous.

Which is strange. I keep forgetting he is my professor. With his head, he nods me over and I look over his arm to the phone screen. ‘They look good,’ I say.

‘Not just good,’ he says. ‘You look amazing.’

He hands me back my phone and at the same time, a slightly cold breeze causes me to tense up and shiver a bit. ‘You cold?’

‘A little,’ I admit.

‘Wait here.’

Walter walks back inside, leaving me be for a little while. I look over the city. The cars, the different type of houses. Dogs barking, young kids laughing and just people having fun in general.

‘Here you go,’ Walter says, ‘I got you a sweater and some tea.’

I look over my shoulder, to see him placing two steaming mugs of tea on the tiny table and indeed a thick sweater (one of his own) in his hands. ‘You’re really going out of your way for me,’ I admit. ‘That’s nice.’

He frowns. ‘No one’s ever gone out of their way for you before?’

I shake my head.

‘Let me be the first then.’ He actually helps me into the sweater and gently pulls out my hairs from the sweater.

I take place on the slightly uncomfortable chair. It’s a bit windy, but not unpleasant. Especially not when I’m wearing a sweater this warm.

‘What are you thinking?’ I ask Walter.

He shrugs. ‘Just something crossed my mind, but I don’t want to intrude.’

‘You could never. If someone is intruding, then it’s totally me. I mean, I literally am at your place, because school’s too hard for me. Seriously, you can ask me anything you want.’

‘When did you find out you were placed at the church?’

I wrap my fingers around my mug and say: ‘My mom always said that I was a special delivery from the stork. I knew I was adopted, but I never thought more of it. My parents were simply my parents, even though they didn’t look like me. One day a kid in my class thought it was stupid I had white parents, when I clearly wasn’t, I realized it maybe was a bit weird. So I asked them about it and they told me the entire story.’

‘Must’ve been hard,’ Walter says.

I shrug. ‘Kinda.’

‘Does it bother you to this day? In your day to day life?’

These are very intense questions. He really does want to get to know me better, right? ‘You kinda carry it with you all the time,’ I say. ‘Oh no, I’m gonna cry.’ I blink my eyes fast, as I try to redirect both my feelings and his attention. ‘This is stupid, I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, no,’ he says, in such a soft and caring tone, that it almost makes me cry a little more. When was the last time someone was this caring about me outside my family? ‘Don’t apologize for your feelings.’

It just doesn’t match. His uninterested appearance versus this hidden caring nature of his. He leans forward and places his hand on my knee. A simple gesture, enough however to stop my heart from working. ‘I’ll try,’ I say, wiping the tears from my cheeks. ‘I promise.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After the well needed break, I was in the right mindset and managed to get a lot of work done. Turns out: I’m not stupid, I’m just a bit slow from time to time. Having someone that helps me, gives me a better understanding of it all.

‘You know,’ I say, as I pack my stuff in my bag, ‘your hair is quite dry and frizzy.’

‘Is it?’ Walter asks with a chuckle. ‘You have some nerves, young lady, to tell me my hair is frizzy after I helped you out.’

‘Just want to give you a bit of advice in return,’ I snicker.

‘Well, since you want to go to cosmetology school so badly, you tell me next week what products I need to use and I’ll be your test subject, how about that?’

He wants to see me again? Or does he mean after school? Or simply through texts?

‘Really?’

‘Of course, Penny.’

‘Thank you again for helping me out,’ I say. ‘I know this isn’t exactly in your job description.’

‘I’m happy to help, if it’s in my job description or not.’ He grabs my coat and helps me in it. ‘You want a lift?’

I shake my head. ‘It’s still light outside and I can go by bus. I need to do some groceries anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I am sure,’ I say. ‘Really, it’s not a big deal.’

‘Just share your location with me, okay? I want to make sure you’re back safe.’

Walter is such a caring and loving man, though he tries to hide it underneath all that grumpiness.

‘Okay, will do,’ I say, after I put on my shoes. I place my bag on the floor, grab my phone and start sharing my location with him for the next four hours. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him, when I push my phone in my back pocket and the two of us lock eyes.

‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘I just really got to know you. That was nice.’

I smile. ‘It totally was,’ I say. ‘I’d like to get to know you a bit more next time.’

Next time? I’m really suggesting a next time?

Walter barely responds to it, only a small cocking of his eyebrow. ‘Next time,’ he says. ‘You’ll get to know plenty about me.’ He takes a step forward, only for me to be able to smell his cologne. Gosh, what does one say right now?

While I’m contemplating the best topics, Walter seemed to have no issue coming up with something. ‘You’re staring again,’ he notes.

‘No, I’m not,’ I say to him, way too quickly. ‘Okay, maybe I was.’

You have to ask me again later on how exactly, but somehow my back is pressed against the wall. Walter places his hand on my cheek, his calloused thumb brushing over my parted lips. I don’t know where to look, but my gaze stops at his kissable looking lips.

His body is pressed against mine and two slow seconds passes before I feel his lips on mine.

What is this? Is he truly kissing me? I can’t believe this. My first kiss. I hold onto his thick sweater, my fingers wrapping tightly on the fabric, almost solely because my knees start to wobble like crazy. It’s the first time I felt someone’s lips on mine. Someone’s beard scratching my chin. Never before did I feel someone’s tongue carefully over my bottom lip. He cages me in between his thick arms. He is so much more overpowering, dominant, but boy, is it a role that suits him so well.

Much to my dismay, he pulls back to flash me a tiny smile. ‘I’ve been thinking about doing this for quite some time now today.’

‘Why?’ I ask him.

He smiles. ‘Just because,’ he says.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking about it too,’ I whisper.

‘What stopped you from doing it?’

‘You’re my professor, Walter.’

He nods. ‘I know. That should’ve stopped me,’ he admits.

‘No, no,’ I say, placing my hands on both sides of his face. ‘Don’t let it stop you. Please don’t.’ It sounds slightly needy, but I can’t help it. It’s the first time in my entire life I feel this alive. With his understanding, I notice finally the ability for me to figure out who I am as a person. However, those words stay close to my heart. I bite my bottom lip and he interprets it as an invitation and I’m so thankful he does.

The kiss is less soft than the previous one, far more intense. I don’t want to stop kissing him. His lips part from mine, evading his way to my nape to press wet kisses on the delicate skin. My fingers run through his hair. ‘Walter,’ I say and he looks up. I always notice the shift in gazes when he is with me. So much softer, gentle and caring than he is in class or with others. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Sure about what?’

‘Me?’

A crooked smile appears on his lips. ‘I’ve never been so sure.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Once I got home, realization truly hit. I just kissed my professor.

Was it smart? No.

Will I do it again? Probably.

Oh my, I’m falling for him, aren’t I? I had this insanely goofy grin on my face as I sat in the bus, did my groceries and went to my dorm. I bet I looked like a moron, but I couldn’t help myself. Walter’s lips on mine felt so good.

Those lips will be all I am going to think about. I take off my coat, only to realize I’m still wearing his sweater. It smells like him, his wonderful cologne.

I’m this deep in thoughts and little dreams, that I yelp when I hear a text coming in.

Walter: You’re home safe, right?

Oh, that’s right. I was sharing my location with him.

Me: Yes, I just walked in

Walter: Did you lock your door?

Me: Yes

Walter: Okay good

Me: Thanks for your help btw

Walter: Of course, not a problem

Me: I think I’m gonna go get ready for bed

Walter: Alright, princess

Walter: Good night

✎ ✎ ✎

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x penny townsend #henry cavill x asian ofc #asian ofc #penny townsend #walter marshall #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall fanfiction #but professor #professor Walter Marshall

161 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

Text

you said forever

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: swearing, a little fluffy, but mainly just pure angst, [spoiler alert] no happy ending Word Count: 2k Request/Summary: @mgglover: “fic based on Olivia Rodrigos new song Drivers license where Reid and Reader broke up and reader still loves him (he feels the same and it was just circumstance or not) and then JJ confesses her love to Reid and Reader is distraught.”

“Here you go, your black bow tie.” You said, handing Spencer a small box. His fingers brushed gently against yours as he grabbed the box causing the air to hitch briefly in your throat.

“I’m sorry it took so long.” You added. “It was buried deep at the back of our- ehm my wardrobe.” A small nervous smile circled your lips. Spencer smiled back at you. “It’s okay Y/N. Thank you.”

He placed the item on his desk before looking back at you. “You didn't have to come all this way though. I could have stopped by our- ehm your place later to pick it up.” You waved your hand dissuasively. “I just thought it would be easier, in case you got called onto a case or something.” You replied, although the real reason was much more simple than that. You just wanted to see him.

Spencer nodded. He glanced around the empty bullpen before turning his attention back to you; unsure of what to say next.

The two of you used to be able to talk for hours on end, about everything and nothing all at once. Now whenever you saw each other, as rare as these meetings were, you bit your tongue afraid to say the wrong thing. Start another argument perhaps. The brunette doctor did the same.

It was heartbreaking really, because you still loved him. Deeply.

“I better get going.” You said, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence that has enveloped around you. “Have fun at the wedding and please wish the happy couple my congratulations.” Spencer smiled. “Thanks Y/N, and don’t worry I will.”

With one last longing look, you turned swiftly on your heel and headed for the exit. You pressed the button for the elevator and waited patiently for it to arrive. And as you waited, the brunette doctor snuck up behind you.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name escaping his lips was enough to make your heart skip a beat. You turned to face him again. “I was wondering...” Spencer cleared his throat. “I thought maybe you'd like to accompany me to the wedding?” He asked. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I don’t kno-”

“I mean that was the plan before we broke up, and I know Rossi would love to have you there.” Spencer paused, and observed your features for a reaction. Which he hoped would be a pleasant one.

“Are you sure Spencer? Won’t that be weird for us?” You questioned but the the hazel-eyed doctor shook his head. “University of Kansas released a study that shows sixty percent of people maintain a friendship after a breakup.” “And you think we can fit within that bracket?” You asked quietly.

“We should at least try because-” He paused and you immediately noticed the hesitation in his eyes. He swallowed. “Well, truth be told Y/NI miss spending time with you.” You couldn't help but smile. “I miss spending time with you too Spencer.” “Really?” He asked, a hint of confusion to his voice. He thought after what transpired you would never want to see him again.

“Of course. Who else will take me to see midnight showings of black and white documentaries on various battles I have never heard of, or The Cheese Mites, or Global Air Routes.” Spencer chuckled. “I can't believe you remember The Cheese Mites.” “Are you kidding? That two minute video is the reason I don’t eat blue cheese anymore.” The grin on your face spread a little wider. “Which is probably best for my digestive system anyway.”

The hazel-eyed doctor smirked. “That it definitely is.”

The elevator door opened with a slight ding; bring you back to reality. With an inaudible sigh, you stepped inside. You peered back at Spencer and positioned your hand on the edge of the metal door, holding it so it wouldn't close yet.

“I’d love to go to the wedding with you Spencer.” “You would?” You nodded in response. “Do you want to meet there or-” Spencer politely cut you off. “I’ll pick you up.”

You let your hand fall and took a step backwards. With a warm smile, you bid him farewell. “See you then Spencer.” "Bye Y/N.”

The door closed. It was then you realised the silly smile greeting your facial features and just how happy and hopeful you were suddenly feeling. Shit.

A week has passed and no word from the brunette doctor. You texted him a couple of times, just to check in, but no response. You began to feel stupid, foolish even. Spencer was probably doubting the whole thing. You should have known his invite was too good to be true.

With a wine glass in hand, you starred blankly at your phone hoping it would suddenly ring. Hoping his name would illuminate your screen like it did a million times before. How stupid, how foolish.

There was a chance he was away on a case, of course you considered that. His hectic schedule and lack of communication has been the cause of many fights in the past. Which is why you began to feel slightly angry, primarily with yourself but also with the hazel-eyed doctor.

A sigh escaped your lips. You took the last sip of your wine, and gently placed the glass in the sink before heading to the bedroom. Within the hour you were showered and ready for bed. It was then your phone rang, finally.

“Hello?” You picked up eagerly.

“Hi Y/N. I’m sorry for calling so late.” Spencer replied, the tone of his voice soothing as always. “Actually, I’m sorry for only calling now. We were in Los Angeles on a case.”

“That’s okay.” You whispered back. A lie. A big fat lie. Yet you knew omitting the truth was better than getting into a silly argument.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you think that maybe I could come over? There uhm, there is something I nee-d to tell you.”

“S-sure, sure.” “Great. I’ll be there soon.” And like that the call ended just as quickly as it started.

You picked out a random clean hoodie from your dresser and returned back to the living room where you waited patiently for Spencer to arrive.

Obviously, you wondered what he wanted to talk about. Could it be about you? About your past? Maybe your future? A thought crossed your mind. What if he wanted to get back together?

You shook your head. No. Spencer made it quite clear when the two of you broke up that would never happen. He said you were better off alone, and perhaps that was true. But then again, why would he suggest maintaining a friendship with you if that was the case?

Sound of the doorbell whisked you away from your thoughts and brought you back to reality. You hurried over and greeted the brunette doctor with a shy smile. Without saying a word, you invited him inside and the two of you sat down on the couch.

A weird atmosphere circled the room. You couldn't help but feel uneasy about what was about to be said. The last time you felt this way, your love story was coming to a tragic end.

“Is everything okay Spencer?” You asked quietly. He nodded slowly, although avoided your gaze.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?” You asked, concern spreading through your body. Without really thinking you reached for his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. The sudden contact caused the doctor to snap his head in your direction. His eyes locked with yours, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Something did happen.” Spencer began. And as he spoke, he gently traced circled on your hand with your thumb. “There was a hostage situation, and-” “A hostage situation?” You interrupted. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay.” He reassured. “That’s not what I came here to say.”

Spencer swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and began to explain. He started with the details of the case, leaving out the more gruesome details because he knew how much you disliked those. He moved onto the hostage situation he found himself in with JJ, and the game.

His tone of voice changed; you noticed it immediately.

“I know we’re over, but in the spirit of trying to remain friends I wanted to be honest with you.” Spencer stated. “JJ admitted-” He gulped. “She ehm- she admitted as part of the game, that she- she’s always loved me.”

You blinked, hand slipping in slow motion out of his grasp. His words ringing in your ears. A gut wrenching feeling twisting your insides, making you incredibly nauseous. Your worst nightmare coming true.

“She said, she said she was too scared to say it before and things were too complicated now.” “Stop.” You whispered but Spencer continued. “She said that I should-” “Stop it!” You jumped to your feet and frustratingly ran your fingers through your hair.

“Y/N...”

“You told me, Spencer you told me many times that I had nothing to worry about when it came to JJ.” Frustration levels rising. Spencer also got up, he reached out to grab you but you took a step back. The hazel-eyed man sighed.

“I swear I didn't know before she felt that way. You have to believe me Y/N.” He took a step toward you, maintaining stern eye contact. He once again tried to take your hand in his, however as soon as his fingers brushed against yours you yanked your hand back.

“I don't believe you.” You muttered. Hot tears began to escape the corners of your eyes, they burned your skin as they traveled down your cheeks. “You’re a profiler, and you literally spend every day with her.”

A broken look spread across the brunette doctor’s face, one to match the complete despair currently gracing your features.

“That’s not fair Y/N.”

“Not fair? Are you fucking kidding me?!” Anger levels spiking. “Fuck Spencer, when we were together you spent more time with her than you did with me!”

“Because we work together!”

“That is a pathetic excuse Spencer and you know it! When we were dating, she always made me doubt! She's older, she knows you longer than me.” The salty tears reached your lips, you began to feel choked up. “JJ is everything I have always been insecure about!”

“Which is why I wanted to come here and tell you what happened in person.”

“No.” You shook your head. “You only came here to ease the guilt.”

“Y/N, please, I am begging you.” The brunette doctor grabbed your wrist before you got a chance to pull away. He held onto you tight, yet not to hurt you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, and for a split second you leaned into his touch.

“Get out.” You whispered while closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. “Get out of my house Spencer.”

“This used to be our house Y/N.” He mumbled back. “Or did you forget that?”

You scoffed, opening your eyes to meet his gaze again. “You said forever, and then you left. So from where I’m standing it seems you are the one who forgot Spencer.”

The sentence seemed to stung the hazel-eyed man. His jaw clenched as he let his arms fall back down to his sides. You watched silently, wiping the wet tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, as Spencer made his way to the front door.

He turned to look at you once again. For a moment, a brief moment, you could have sworn you noticed a genuine hurt in his eyes.

“I know we weren't perfect Y/N.” Pause. “But believe me or not, I have never felt this way for no-one.”

And he was gone. The door shut with a loud bang causing you to jump slightly in your spot. Nausea. Nausea crusaded through your veins. You let out a deep long breath, one you didn't even realise you were holding.

He loved you. It was clear now that’s what he came here to say, and you kicked him out. You pushed him away. Forever.

It was over. Completely, and utterly over.

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor

masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid songfic #dr spencer reid #songfic #spencer reid imagine

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migilini · 4 years ago

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Hiiii! I liked how you did the road trip one shot and was wondering if you could do a request for Charlie Gillespie where the reader and Charlie are dating but have been living in different states due to COVID and the boys do an Instagram live and the reader wants to be on the live with them and Charlie gets so excited and it’s fluffy?

So far apart - Charlie Gillespie

A/N: ofc i can! Thank you so much, hope you like it :) I will proofe read it tomorrow.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

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

Tiredness was your new default state. College alone was stressful and hard enough plus it didn't help that you had to do it online from your little NY appartement that you shared with three other roommates. But you had too. You were in your last semester ever! That was motivation enough to pull through.

Currently you were trying to facetime your boyfriend Charlie. You haven't seen him in about four months but if someone would ask your roommates, they would say it felt like an eternity of you moaning and pouting about not seeing him. When COVID started, the two of you seriously debated about moving in together. However, at that time, your classes were not online yet and you couldn't move away, he also couldn't move to New York with you because he still had meetings with the JATP Cast.

You stared at your ringing phone, desperate to hear his voice. You knew that he should be awake, you had the time zones imprinted on your brain.

Sorry babe, have a meeting in 5… Will call you after okay? <3 the message that just popped up on your screen made you frown a little. You weren't mad, you just had a really awful week and missed him like crazy.

Sure thing <3 yout texted back and threw the phone onto your bed. Deciding that instead of waiting for him to call back, you could use the time usefully and start studying for your next test in two days.

It was an hour later, you were completely engrossed in the textbook, so you barely heard the ringing of your phone. Maybe a bit too quick, you tossed all your books to the ground and launched yourself on the bed to find your phone.

His pretty face filled your screen “Heyyy!” “Hello beautiful!” You two grinned at each other.

“How are--” A knocking on your door interrupted your question. “Yes?” The door opened and revealed one of your roommates Alexis with a sheepish look on her face “I’m really sorry to interrupt but Tara just broke off with her boyfriend and she needs a hug.”

You looked up at your red haired friend “She broke up with Tom?!” Alexis nodded “It's an emergency” she claimed. Charlie understood this as his clue to end the call saying a quick goodbye and a don't worry about it, when you shot him an apologetic look.

This is how it went nearly every time. Something always came up, either you were studying non-stop and he didn't want to distract you or he had actor things and meetings going on. It was truly tiring. The last time you really had the opportunity to facetime was a couple weeks ago and even then you fell asleep inert 15minutes. When Charlie accidentally lulled you to sleep with a song he's been working on.

Still the two of you made it work. Charlie had started writing you weekly letters with his perfume on it. And you being your crafty self, sent him a little care package with letters, some self made food and paintings, every now and then.

You just finished all your tests and essays for this semester and you felt free again. Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom window and put your school books away. Sinking down on your bed, you closed your eyes temporarily, enjoying the moment. You got up again to get yourself something to eat and a coffee. Your roommates were currently away, probably getting groceries or books at the College Library.

You mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, the sandwich you made yourself still laying next to you on the nightstand. Ever since Julie and the Phantoms released, the cast's accounts blew up like crazy and Charlie always showed you off like a queen so of course people found your page as well. You didn't mind though. Most of the people were really nice and respecting, protecting your relationship from all the not so nice guys

You just answered some DM’s, chuckling at a meme that Maddie had sent you, when you got a notification that Owen was live. Naturally you clicked on it, knowing that Charlie most likely will be in the live as well, due to the fact that he was currently at Owen’s with Jeremy.

You were one of the first ones. Owen grinned when he saw your name come up in the chat.

“Guten Morgen everybody.” You chuckled when you heard your boyfriend singing in the background, writing in the chat that Owen should say hi to Charlie. “Are all of you streaming JATP?” he asked the live audience while you nodded to yourself, your laptop open beside you. It was a bit embarrassing to admit how often you saw the show, but every time you felt lonely you watched it. It had some really cute guys in it after all.

He read the chat “Do you like watching the show you participated in? Thats a good question. Charlie, Charlie! I have a question for you.” The camera turned and it showed the canadian boy you fell in love with.

“Eh…” he said as he walked into the kitchen, Owen following close. “It was very weird at first. Guess I'm more used to it now.” he answered honestly. You weren't even listening, you just stared at your phone in trance, the light making him look so incredibly pretty.

Suddenly you got an invitation to join the live from Owen. You sat up a bit straighter and blinked a few times before accepting.

“Helloooooo!” he screamed, making you laugh. “Hi Owen. Yall are up early.”

“Yeah… you know Char. That dumb early riser.” he complained. “Yeah I feel you. Though he lets me sleep so he must love me more than he loves you.” you teased making Owen pout in a childish way.

“Charlie! Who do you love more, me or y/n?” the statement made your boyfriend laugh and for a moment your breath hitched, it was music in your ears and once again you realised how much you missed it.

“I’m really sorry bud, but definitely y/n…I want to...” Charlie just wanted to explain why when he heard your chuckling from Owen’s phone. “See told ya.” It was truly a blessing that the camera was still turned to your boyfriend, making it easy for you to see his reaction. He nearly let the fork he was holding fall out of his hand, his eyes widening while his mouth grew into a big grin. “Is that y/n?” he asked cautiously. Apparently Owen nodded, because before you knew, the camera turned and you were face to face with your boyfriend.

“Baby!” he screamed, a wide, toothy smile on his lips. “How dare you go on live with Owen but not with me!” he jokes. “How was the history test? As hard as you thought it would be?” you cut off his rambling “Hi! Nice to see you too. No, it was way harder than I expected. Let's hope for the best, I get the results sometime next week”

“I bet you killed that test baby! No, Owen you don't get the phone back… I don't care that it's your live.” The chat was freaking out over Charlie's happiness by just seeing you, talking about how they want love like that.

“Little explanation for everybody. Me and Charlie haven't really been able to facetime so were just really excited right now. Sorry if it's boring.” you explained to the chat.

“Don’t ever say that ever again.” he said in a serious tone “it's not boring.” you held your hands up in surrender. “Sorry sorry. Can I talk to Owen again? I mean he is the one who invited me.” you teased, poking your tongue out. With a pout he gave the phone back to Owen.

“Are you also streaming the show today?” he asked you. Charlie was in the background, looking at you over Owens shoulder, making silly faces. “Of course! Who do you think I am? I’ve been watching it everyday since it came out.” Owens' face fell “You're kidding… that doesn't… that doesn't seem healthy.” you shrugged “Well i don't really care. I have this massive crush on someone from the show, just can't get enough of him.”

The camera shook and a couple crunts later you were once again faced with Charlie. “I sure hope it's me or you're not allowed to wear that shirt anymore.” he pointed to the shirt you were currently wearing and that was in fact one of his.

“Not gonna tell you babe. My mouth is shut.” you winked, making him blush. “I miss you.” he blurted out with puppy eyes. “I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you.” he grinned at that excited for the surprise he had planned.

“I think i'm gonna go, let you guys actually comment on the show. I love you Charlie.” You sent him a kiss and he pretended to catch it with his free hand.

“Eww that's so cheesy.” Owen muttered from somewhere in the back.

“I love you too.”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp fanfic #jatp

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

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How would the brothers react to their (boy/girlfriend) mc suffering from memory loss?

I'm going to assume MC was just "born" with it and didnt actually go through anything traumatic

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC suffering from memory loss

Lucifer:

It started small at first, you just forgot simple things and he’d let it slide, but at some point sooner or later he would become concerned with the amount of things you forgot, not what you forgot. Is this normal? It shouldn’t be. You’re not an old human. As far as he knows, humans can easily live up into their 80s. It was kind of agitating him, too, but he wouldn’t voice that, not yet. “You’re forgetting things.” it was a question of whether or not you had realized, it was a fact. “And I can’t have that.” he makes it out as if it was an inconvenience to him, but if it hadn’t become one already, it would also be an inconvenience to you before you know it. So what’s this awesome thing they have down here in the Devildom? Magic. Suddenly you’ll remember everything.

Mammon:

Honestly, for how much he forgets things himself, chances are that he didn’t even realize at first that you had memory loss, until even he had picked up on it. His brother’s birthdays, big exams, important meetings…. They all seemed to have been forgotten by you. He’d get onto you, scared that you’d forget him as well. “Oi! My birthday is next week and…” “MC, it’s been almost a year since I became ya first! We needa celebrate!” but then the day would come and you would still forget… He’d be sad, not gonna lie, but he’d offer to help as much as possible. “Guess ya really can’t live without the great Mammon.”

Leviathan:

It upset him at first. Dates, calls, inside jokes…. They all would be forgotten and Levi would be left sad and wondering if it’s all his fault and he’s just being used by you. His thoughts would turn dark pretty quickly and chances are he’ll bottle it all up inside and turn a cold shoulder. He doesn’t necessarily want to, but it’s a self protection kind of thing. Well… sooner or later that would blow up into an argument and he would feel like shit when you tell him you suffer from memory loss. “So… part of your life just goes missing?” Basically, yeah. It’s more complicated than that and obviously differs in people, but at least he’s got the basic gist.

Satan:

He’s so quick to notice, you don’t even have to tell him. Now, before you guys started dating, he DEFINITELY used that to prank you and you easily missed a few important student council meetings or your night of cooking because of him (he still secretly laughs about it), but once you two became an item, he kind of took you under his wing and made sure you stayed on track. He still pulls light pranks on you like causing you to be just a little late to class or making you question what you learned today, but it’s nothing extreme…. Until you two get into a fight then it’s over.

Asmodeus:

Much like Lucifer, he noticed it in little things first. Forgetting where your toothbrush was placed or even something silly like which fork to use when you guys dine at the Demon Lord’s castle. In your defense though, there’s a lot of cutlery. Anyway, he found it cute at first and saw it as an opportunity to be your Knight in Shining Armor, but it’s also worrying to him. “Oh I just got memory loss! I usually put reminders on my phone but it seems I forgot…” He’s not going to lie, he definitely laughed at that. Don’t worry, Asmo is here.

Beelzebub:

It took him forever to notice because he kind of took it upon himself to do everything anyway; he desperately wants to be the provider type and not have you worry about a thing. Belphegor is probably the one who pointed it out like “Dude your bestie got memory loss” (because Beel would be besties with his s/o can’t change my mind.) and then he has a sort of “ooohh….” moment, but he really wouldn’t change much? Like, he’s just going to continue to take care of you.

Belphegor:

See, he unintentionally forgets (to him) unimportant things so he kind of feels that? “I suffer from memory loss” okay?Just don’t forget important things. But that’s the issue and that’s where he kind of struggles. “You forgot your birthday?” “you forgot Lord Diavolo’s party for Barbatos?” “You forgot to EAT?!” And all of a sudden he’s frantically running around trying to make sure you don’t die and he’s even more exhausted than usual and sleeps like a god damn rock, but hey, at least you’re okay and not forgetting anything anymore, thanks to him, right?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #obey me lucifer #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub

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beclynn-herondale · 4 years ago

Text

Jace, Kit, and Mina shenanigans

Jace was visiting with Kit; Clary was spending time with her mother and Luke, as she always did when Jace went on his monthly visit to Kit. And they would tell each other all about their day when they went to bed together that night.

Jace would never have said it out loud but he wanted Kit to rely on him and need him, he wanted to be needed by him. He wanted Kit to trust him, but more than that he wanted Kit to know he really did care for him.

Tessa had also recently had her baby, Mina. She had said Jace should come by and meet her.

Tessa and Jem were good people, and Jace just hoped Kit wouldn't be like he was and push away from his found family, and hold them at a far distance. But he remembered people had to follow their own journey and learn things for themselves. He just wanted Kit to be happy. But Jace also knew, like him, Kit had some baggage and it made it difficult.

"Jace?" said Kit. They were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

"Yeah. . .?" he said, realizing he hadn't been listening for the last few minutes.

"You didn't hear what I said, did you?" Kit sighed.

"I was zoning out thinking of interesting things," he teased.

"Probably not that interesting, considering it's you," Kit shot back playfully.

Jace grinned. This kid would be just fine, he thought.

"So," said Jace, "you're a big brother now."

"Yup. And I'll be great at it."

"There you go. There's the Herondale in you."

Kit stared at him with amusement, then said, "Tessa says you should hold Min Min."

"Min Min? Is that a another nickname of hers?" If so Jace had to admit it was very cute.

"Yes. She has many nicknames," said Kit. "Because she is adorable."

"Kids and babies usually are."

Kit looked up. "You like kids, don't you?"

"They're alright."

Kit looked at him suspiciously. "Uh, huh." He then asked. "Well, are you and your hot fiancée Clary gonna have any?"

Jace choked on his tea. "What—what?" He thought he was probably flushing, as Clary always made him do even when she wasn't around. And Kit calling Clary that should be weird but he wasn't wrong, Clary was hot and his fiancée.

"Just saying, I'd make an amazing babysitter," Kit winked. "And I could teach your children all about memes and the future stuff, as well as turn them into my side. along with Mina. of course. They would be the best generation yet."

"Pffft," Jace let out.

It's true Jace and Clary had talked about having kids, but it was never a definite serious talk. Though Jace did want kids. "Why are you asking me this?"

"No reason."

"Uh, huh," he said. That was their thing, 'Uh, huh.'

Jem walked in then, holding who Jace assumed was Mina. "Hello, Jace," said Jem. "How are you?" He was smiling the warm smile that he he always had these days; Jace had thought it was the kind of smile that made you want to open up and trust. Jem was that kind of person who radiated kindness and warmth and goodness.

"I'm doing just fine," he said. "What about you?"

"I am amazing," he exclaimed. "Silly melon, is so beautiful and precious." Another cute nickname, he thought. "Would you like to hold her?" Jem asked.

"I. . .uh. . .sure," Jace said, hearing the unsureness his own voice, not knowing why it was there. Jem placed Mina in his arms; he couldn't help but remember holding Max for the first time, remembering that for the first time he had been absolutely terrified. Babies had always seemed so small and fragile to him, and at that time he had no idea how they worked. Of course, after Max Jace figured out that as he had said, they were tough. Max was not so little anymore, and now was on about killing all the demins, Jace was a very proud uncle. He looked down at Mina, she looked like Jem, he thought, but he could see Tessa as well. "Hello, Mina," he said.

The baby opened her eyes, looking up at Jace with an expression of curiosity. well, he assumed that's what it was. "curious are we?"

"She is," Kit put in. It was such a sibling thing, he thought.

Jem was watching the three of them with fondness, and a little sadness. Jace wondered if he was thinking of his parabatai Will Herondale; Jem had told Jace about him, and couldn't imagine not having Alec or being alive without Alec. It had made Jace feel a deep kind of sympathy for Jem.

Jace repositioned Mina in his arms so he could look her in the eyes. "So," he said. "Are you going to prank and trick your big brother?"

Kit stuck his tongue out at Jace, and Jace rewarded Kit by sticking his own tongue out right back at him.

Mina giggled, Jace felt his heart skip a beat. He'd made her giggle. It reminded Jace of hearing Max giggle for the first time, it had instantly defeated Jace, in a sense. Blueberry had had a place in Jace's heart from the beginning, Jace couldn't help but want to protect him, it had been the same with Rafe, and even young Emma and her braveness. And Jace thought it would probably be the same with Kit and Mina; he had a soft spot for kids. He had also realized that he had cared for Max, his little brother, the same. But that was a place that Jace tried not to venture to, as it only broke his heart all over again. Jace remembered how Izzy had told him that Max died clutching the toy soldier he'd given him all those years ago, it had shaken Jace. Max's death would always leave a missing piece in their family.

"I take that giggle as a yes," he said.

Jem laughed softly.

"Or," Kit said, "we might prank you endlessly and be chaotic rascals that haunt you."

"Bring it on, Kittiroo," Jace said, using the nickname he had for Kit. Knowing it was longer than his actual nickname but he gave a nickname to kids he liked. And Kit liked it, but would never admit it, ever.

"Whatever, Jacey Jace," he said.

They laughed.

——————

[ Two years later ]

Mina was now two, which meant her and her big brother Kit were up to no good when they came to visit or Jace went to visit them.

They both enjoyed playing tricks on Jace. And to think he made them cookies and tea. And played piano for them.

Jace was walking down one of the Institute corridors, looking through the open doors along their walls, trying to see if he could find the little trouble makers.

He was peering through one of the empty rooms when something came up behind him and said "Boo!"

He turned around, pretended to be scared as he saw it was little Mina. "Oh, you got me," he said.

She laughed. "I always get you."

He smiled at her. "Where's Kit?"

She shrugged.

"Little loyal one, you are," he said. "But if you tell me where he is, I'll give you a cookie."

Mina seemed to be considering this. "Come," she said.

Mina led him to another empty room, where they found Kit.

"Traitor!" he said.

"It's not her fault—" Jace began.

"Not Mina. You," Kit pointed. "I know you bribed her with cookies. You know we can't resist cookies."

"What can I say," said Jace. "I'm a master at bribery."

"Uh, huh," Kit said with a kind of sassy sarcasm. Kit also said 'Uh, huh.' in a way to say he is amused but very doubtful

"Hey, man. I can't help it, cookies are good," said Mina.

"It's not your fault, Min Min," said Kit. "It's the bad man's fault."

Jace gasped in pretend hurt. "The very implicaction of that is hurtful."

"Good," Kit said.

And Jace went over to lift the boy up. "You forget I'm bigger and stronger than you."

"No!" exclaimed Kit, but he was laughing, and Jace always liked to hear him laugh out loud.

"Fight him off, Kit," said Mina.

They ended up wrestling on the floor with Mina cheering for Kit like the loyal sister she was. Them when they were both tired they burst into laughter.

——————

Kit, Jace, and Mina were sitting on a couch while Jem talked about reincarnation; 2 old Mina wore a serious face for her age.

"You see this is why I believe in it so strongly," said Jem, beaming.

"Yes, I see," said Jace.

"It is interesting," Kit said.

Mina nodded.

"Just think about it," Jem said, "you come back in a different form or something new after you die."

Jace wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, and by the look on Kit's face it appeared he felt the same.

"So is that why I'm so exhausted?" asked Kit, "because I've lived so many lives? And keep doing this shit again?"

It was a fair question to ask, Jace thought.

"Kit, no," said Jem. "And don't say that word in front of Min Min."

"Alec says something like that to me all the time," Jace put in. "Except it's usually 'Jace no!'"

"Yeh, well, you're both chaotic dum dums," said Mina.

They all looked at her.

"Wat?" she said.

Jem seemed to be wearing a look of amused agreement.

She was two and yet so smart, and had so many words at times.

"I prefer the term not afraid to take chances," said Jace.

"It's a Herondale thing," put in Kit.

Jace grinned at him. "There you go, bud."

Mina rolled her eyes, she also had a lot of sass for her age. Jem stared at them with a sort of affectionate exasperation.

——————

Jace was sitting beside Kit while he showed him memes and what they meant. Mina came to sit down beside them.

"Jace," she said.

"Yeah, Mina?"

"So you're like my great kind of nephew, right?"

"Great great great or something, yeah."

"So than I am like your great something aunt?"

"Yeah. . ." This would never not be weird.

"Does that mean I get to boss you around?"

Jace didn't know what to say to this.

Kit looked up from his screen. "Wait, does that mean technically I'm your adoptive great something uncle, now?"

"I. . ." Jace had to admit he didn't know what to say to any of this. "Are you two trying to confuse me?" he asked.

They both grinned mischievously.

Jace sighed.

"Hey, dear Nephew," Kit said. "Make me some cookies."

"Dear Nephew," Mina added. "Get us tea."

"You two think you're hilarious."

"Wrong," said Kit, "we know we're hilarious."

"Yeah well," Jace said, pulling them both into the hug, "I'd like to see you get free from my hug."

"No!" They both exclaimed, then tried to get free which turned into laughter from them all.

——————

Jace heard his phone buzz. He looked at it and saw that it was a message from Kit, he'd sent Jace a meme. Jace didn't always understand them, but apparently they were like jokes. He replied with laughing emojis.

He exited his messaging app and stared his phone background; it was a picture of Max, Rafe, Mina, and Kit in the art room with Clary, who was teaching them to paint. He smiled at it. It was odd to say, but they were his kids in a way and he felt this strong urge to protect them from the world that would try to shut out their light.

He remembered the first time Kit had seen he'd taken picture and used it as his phone background. Kit looked surprised, as if he couldn't think of why Jace would do that. Jace ruffled his hair and quoted one of his memes to him that day. Kit liked to communicate with memes, and so Jace tried his best. Kit had also called Jace a mom a few times, though he wasn't sure why.

His phone buzzed again. This time it was Emma, her message said, "We need to form the sword-blondes club *winking emoji*" Jace couldn't help but laugh, then replied, "The world would've be able to handle that."

He had so many kids and young people who were dear to him now. Sometimes he thought back to his old self, who didn't have much of anyone and who believed that love was weakness. But now, when he looked at these kids, he knew that was lie. Now, he knew he was strongest because of love. He barely remembered it, but thought about the time he first met Jem, he'd been Brother Zachariah then. He'd told him, 'We fight best when that which we love is on the line.' or something along those words. It made Jace smile, to think somehow all this connected, the universe was a strange thing.

He then looked down at the engagement ring on his left ring finger. At some point him and Clary would work toward building a family, and have kids of their own. It both excited and frightened Jace; he wanted to be a father, of course. But he didn't want to snap one day and see his father come out, he didn't want his children to ever have to see something like that. Clary told him he wouldn't be like that, and she was always right, usually. These kids in his life now though, he felt were proof that he could be a good father.

He opened his phone back up and texted Kit a meme.

He was rewarded with, "Well, I'll be damed. He's learning!"

Jace replied with, "Watch your language."

"You watch your own language, Mr. acts like my parent."

Jace laughed. Kids were so odd yet so precious, they were the future, he thought.

Tagging: especially @khaleesiofalicante because she is having Jace and Kit feels, and I think she'll appreciate this. @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys

#jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #kit herondale #mina carstairs #jem carstairs #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #tda #twp #tsc fanfiction #tmi fanfics #gotsm #bec's fanfics #clace #clary fairchild

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sollucets · 3 years ago

Text

twcposting advanced special: back half of book 2

mason, it’s very cute of you to acknowledge this and i love masonivy friendship, but like, why were you surprised. ivy is 500000000% team nate in like every possible situation at this point they are fully on the nate train and with ivy this usually means protective violence, so like, (ed: i Meant this rest in rip sanja)

ohhhh. gah that conversation with n and a is super cute what the fuck. “i don’t want your gratitude i want you to be happy” i am actually so much more endeared to a from this route?? this is so sweet. ;u;

sigh. in the most resigned tone possible, n thinks boomer memes are funny. they do don’t they. somewhere in my soul i know it. they have a reasonable chuckle over newspaper comics about people who are obsessed with their phones

n’s route has a Eye Contact thing sure, but i think now that its specific quirk is actually a Hand Thing, isn’t it. wrapping their hand on that first patrol, warming up their hands on the walk, the finger kiss, holding hands all the time, snapping them out of the mirror trance by holding hands... yeah its a hand thing. i gotta think that with ivynate, with the height difference (it’s fully 10 inches, nearly a foot) their hands have gotta be real different sizes too.... ah. tender

seeing the combat scene on this route confirms my earlier suspicions about Hot Sparring Scene, so i’m gonna have to go through this way on the m route.... like. i actively HAVE to. if m doesn’t pin them to the floor and kiss them what is even the point

heehee. i love the “taking advantage of someone’s romantic distraction during sparring” thing....... yes. yes that is where it’s at. that said the height difference makes that description of them back hugging him very funny their nose is going to be like in the middle of his back

m being a little shit to n on this route is So Fuckign Funny compared to n --> m. m is like a Selective Dumbass

im really delighted by ivymason friendship actually. they’re kind of similar, honestly? ivy is a lot nicer, mind, not that that’s a high bar, but they hit back when pushed. i like seeing mason being nice without all the extra romance baggage. it’s cute.

i really liked their nighttime talk except how i couldn’t control the detective going “hey nate have you killed anyone” because..... like..... why would you do that,,,,,, LMAO. also the silly little moisturizer joke i want him to wear a facemask and cucumbers.

“the way that man looks at you could inspire a thousand love poems” oh hell. also i’m fairly certain i’ve Seen sonnets about this lol

i like elidor please don’t let him be evil. he’s the first character i’ve gotten to hug

can’t help but think there’s a missing opportunity after the maalused break all the glass in the living room for injury take care. wouldnt you have glass shards embedded in your hands. fucked up

ivymason do the cannonball special!!!! what a delight. again mason is unreasonably taller than ivy so this definitely works

yeah i mean i hate to fail the mission but there’s fully no world where ivy doesn’t choose their li lmao. it will Never happen

it’s kind of cute a being protective over them against falk. like i understand it’s probably just what happens whether you’re friends or not but a and ivy did not get along for a long time so it’s kinda fun to see them wearing a down

i got the treaty this time! even though sanja died! wild. not sure how i managed that one when i failed with her alive last time. game works in mysterious ways i guess?

that said uh rereading that ambush.... goddammit elidor’s definitely sus, isn’t he. like we know the agency has a leak, specifically about their blood tests, and he took care of them after that.... dammit. :( oh well. at least ivy’s complete and utter trust of him will make for drama should it be true

HELL YEAH FERRIS WHEEL KISS

in conclusion: yes i think i was right to put ivy here. yes nate Does have some ... some edgy shit going on, re: fortune teller and that mysterious “oooh can i tell them everything” thing but i think it needs more emotional damage and that’s exactly what they’re for lmao. it’s... a little less canon i think? or i need to play it a little different. but still godtier i like it. anyway this was nice. had fun. tired now we sleep

#twcposting #cut for 'this is a long post' reasons #gods i sure am talking about m a lot for a post that is hypothetically about ivynate huh #i am so predictable #rowan chatter #i think this is also technically #ocposting #and i am sorry for that

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drowningbydegrees · 3 years ago

Text

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers!

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher #my fic #Featuring a lot of road trip shenanigans

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escapewithbts · 3 years ago

Text

Reassurance - Taehyung

Author’s note/warnings(?): insecure y/n, so much angst, tbh Tae is kind of a moody dick(sorry), they still have things to work out at the end let’s be real

———————————————

You returned home from the grocery store and opened the apartment door to find Taehyung sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. His long black hair was tousled messily upon his head, the curls of his bangs falling into his eyes. He was wearing brown cardigan over a plain white t shirt that was tucked into a pair of olive colored trousers.

“Hey Tae? Will you please help me put the groceries away?” you called to him as you set the bags on the kitchen counters.

You received no response so you walked into the living room where he was still looking at his phone.

He hadn’t said one word to you.

“Taehyung,” you said.

His dark eyes looked up at you, his expression blank.

Oh how you missed his smile.

“Will you please help me?” you asked again calmly.

He sighed and rose up from the couch,

“Yeah, but I gotta go in a few minutes.”

You cocked your head.

“Where are you going?”

He brushed passed you and replied with a simple, “Out.”

This was how most of your conversations had been lately and you hated it. So short. So empty. You didn’t even remember how it was before. Now he made it seem like talking to you was a chore.

You followed him into the kitchen.

“Out? Where out?” you questioned gently.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Why do you have to know everything, (y/n)?”

You winced. His words stung.

Your mouth went dry and you could feel tears welling up.

“I just would like to know where my boyfriend is going… People tell each other those kind of things when they’re in a relationship,” you muttered.

He started rummaging through the bags and putting things in the refrigerator.

“Are you hanging out with Seoyeon?” you asked quietly, looking down at your hands.

He turned to you and sighed.

“If you must know, yes.”

Those words stung even more and you felt your heart ache.

Seoyeon was an actress who Taehyung had met through a mutual friend. She was beautiful; thick black hair, big eyes, plump lips, long legs, pale skin and a thin waist… basically everything you weren’t. You didn’t mind Taehyung having friends that were female, you trusted him, but with the way things had been between you two lately you couldn’t help but feel insecure. They often got photographed together and you had to admit she brought out Taehyung’s handsomeness even more. Two beautiful people who belonged together.

Your hands started shaking and your throat felt tight.

“You hang out with her more than your actual girlfriend,” you said, your voice slightly raised.

He stopped putting the cucumbers in the vegetable drawer and turned to face you.

“We’re friends, (y/n). And you know why I hang out with her. It’s for publicity. This way I stay relevant and- you know what, no, I don’t have to explain this to you every goddamn day,” he slammed the drawer shut.

You winced again at his outburst. You hated seeing Taehyung mad more than anything. But it was almost getting to be too much. You didn’t like hanging around in the shadows. You didn’t like the rumors of them being romantically linked all over the tabloids. You were worried all the time; and you wished the world could know you were his.

“Tae, I’m sorry, I just want to be able to have a normal relationship with you. I want to go out on dates and hold hands in public. I don’t care about the media or paparazzi. I just don’t want the world thinking you’re with someone else…” you trailed off as the tears slowly started to fall.

Your whole body was shaking and you felt small. Nothing made you feel worse than conflict with Taehyung.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. then covered his face as he shook his head.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with you again, (y/n),” he responded, grabbing his keys from the counter.

He walked out of the kitchen to the front door. You followed.

“Tae, please,” you croaked wiping the tears from your face, “you can’t just walk away all the time. Can’t we fix this?”

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“You don’t understand or listen when I tell you why I do this and that there’s nothing going on between me and her. I don’t know what to do anymore, I’m tired of it, (y/n).”

More tears fell.

“Are you tired of me? Do you want me to go?”

He looked down at his keys and fiddled with them.

His silence was all the answer you needed.

Your heart sank and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The tears came down even harder.

You turned to walk away from him. You couldn’t look at him and you couldn’t keep this conversation going anymore.

“(y/n)…” he called softly after you.

The word carried more sympathetic emotion in his voice than any had in weeks.

“Jesus Tae, just go,” you sobbed, “Please.”

He sighed and didn’t move for what felt like eternity but must have only been a few seconds.

Finally you heard his footsteps get farther away and the front door close behind him.

You opened your eyes to a completely dark apartment, the only light coming from the floor to ceiling windows that looked over the city of Seoul.

You searched for you phone that had fallen between the couch cushions.

No missed calls.

No texts.

Nothing.

You sat up and rubbed you aching eyes.

It had been 5 hours since Taehyung left and you hadn’t heard from him since.

You got up from the sofa and walked over to the window, looking out into the beautiful early Summer night.

Were Taehyung and you breaking up for good? Where would you go if you had to leave?

The questions made your heart ache as you looked out at the city that you never hesitated to call your home. You had been here for 8 months now, when Taehyung and you decided to move in together. It had all been perfect, until 2 months ago when Taehyung was introduced to Seoyeon. It didn’t bother you at first, but when he actually started to hang out with her all the time you despised it. It was like he was living this whole other life and you weren’t in it.

All of a sudden your phone started buzzing, and for a split second you hoped it was him.

“Kookie” was the name on the screen, with a picture of Jungkook making a silly face underneath.

Was he calling because he had talked to Taehyung? Did you really want to talk to Jungkook right now? He was definitely the member of the band other than Taehyung you were closest to. And him being one of Taehyung’s best friend, too, many times he was the middle ground in your relationship.

You touched the green accept button and held the phone to your ear.

“Kook?” you said in a raspy tone.

You forgot it had been hours since you last spoke.

“(y/n)? You there?” You could hear the concern in his voice.

“I’m here,” you croaked.

“I heard what happened.”

You stayed quiet.

“I’m going to give the same speech to you that I did to Taehyungie, okay?”

You sighed, slightly annoyed that this was suddenly everyone else’s business.

Jungkook continued.

“Look, I don’t know what has been going on these past few weeks but I DO know that you and Taehyung-ah are perfect for each other. I have never seen such a better couple. All of us want what you guys have. (y/n), we all love you, and hyung loves you. We don’t want you to go anywhere… Okay?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as you cried softly into the phone.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry, I am just trying to help,” Jungkook said, “I don’t want either of you to do something stupid.”

“I’m s-scared, Kook,” you finally choked out between sobs, “I think he wants me to leave.”

You could almost hear Jungkook rolling his eyes on the other end.

“He does not, (y/n), come on. You’re the best thing he’s ever had, and he knows that.”

You inhaled a deep breath.

“I think it’s different this time,” you replied quietly.

Suddenly you heard the front door open and footsteps coming towards you. You turned on the light next to the couch and was met with Taehyung standing at the opposite end of the living room.

“Hey, Kook, I have to go, Taehyung is home.”

“Do whatever you can to fix this! I’m serious!” you hear Jungkook say as you end the call.

Taehyung and you just stared at each other. His face was puffy and you noticed his eyes were bloodshot.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and took a deep breath.

Your heart pounded as you waited for him to speak.

“I was so afraid you had left,” he finally said gently, looking you directly in the eyes.

You shook your head and bit your bottom lip, trying not to cry again.

“I didn’t hang out with her today. I couldn’t. All I did was drive around for hours and hours thinking. I wasted almost a whole tank of gas…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor.

He placed his hand on his forehead and pushed his bangs back, trying to think of what to say. He sighed and stepped toward you.

“I’m just so sorry, (y/n). I’ve been so horrible to you lately. I see that now. There’s no excuse, but please know I’m sorry.”

“Tae..” you squeaked out through falling tears.

He stepped closer to you and you noticed fresh tears welling up in his eyes,

“Truly, I am. For everything. For being such a shit boyfriend recently. For being a complete ass to you. I don’t know how you have put up with it but I’m so glad you have. All of this tore you away from me, the most important person in my life, and I hate myself for doing this to you. I would never hurt you, never cheat on you, but it wasn’t fair of me to not give you the reassurances you needed. You deserve someone so much better than me and-“

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He immediately put his arms around your waist and held you tight. You inhaled with your face in his neck, where the smell of his familiar cologne was always strongest.

“My (y/n)…” he whispered in your ear as he ran his hand through your hair.

You looked up at his smiling face, tears gently streaming down his cheeks.

“I missed you so much. I missed us so much,” you said to him softly while tangling your fingers in his thick curls.

He didn’t waste a second more. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It felt so overdue yet so familiar. You had forgotten how addicting his taste was, how in sync your mouths always seemed to be.

He pulled away briefly to utter the words you always longed to hear,

“I love you, (y/n),” he kissed you again, “I’ll always love you.”

Masterlist

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moonofthenight · 3 years ago

Text

Welcome to New York

@spookypotato and I (thank you again <3) wrote a fic for the server event that is going on at the moment and I wanted to share it here too, enjoy!

O'Darwin and O'Knutzy belongs to @lumosinlove

CW mentions of food and beverages

It knocked on Leo’s door at 2pm sharp, which didn’t surprise him at all; Kasey was always so dead on time, it scared him sometimes. The two had planned this day for over two weeks now and since Finn and Logan had their date today, Leo used the free flat to invite the other goalie over. He closed the fridge before he made his way into the hallway to open the door.

“Hello Knutty, long time no see,” laughed Kasey as he pulled the blonde in for a short hug.

“Come in, come in. I got everything prepared in the kitchen.”

“I hope you can still live here after today.”

“Honestly Blizz? No one is as bad as Finn and Logan at cooking, believe me. What they are able to do to food shouldn’t be possible.”

“I don’t even want to know.”

To prevent that from happening, Leo chose a simple meal to start with. When Kasey asked him to teach him how to cook he was a bit surprised at first, but he actually enjoyed the idea of teaching someone.

“Let’s start with chopping the vegetables, that should be easy, non?”, Leo suggested. It was better to know now, if this would be like the times he tried to teach Logan and Finn.

Surprisingly, the following minutes weren’t a complete disaster like he had expected, Kasey was actually quite decent at cooking and followed Leo’s instructions without trouble. It was fun to spend time together and their cheeks were still a bit red from all the laughter when they went over to the kitchen table.

Just as Leo was about to sit down his phone rang, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

It was a text from Finn.

Alex will be home over the weekend too, just wanted to let you know.

He was halfway through typing out an answer when he got an idea.

Don’t tell him Lo and I will be there

What? Why?

Let's bring Nat and Kase as a surprise. It won't be as obvious if he thinks we all can't come

I love you

Knew you'd like it, lyt

***

They had lost Kasey and Natalie in the airport, when Finn decided to buy Leo and Logan each an 'I heart NY-boys' shirt. A quick call told them that the couple was already outside.

It was colder in New York, the sky was grey but Finn felt warm when he stepped out of the airport. New York was home to him, it would always somehow be, and bringing Leo and Logan with him, especially Leo, since he hadn't been able to bring him as often yet, felt amazing. A warm body snuggled under his arm and he smiled.

“It’s cold,” Logan pouted and hid his face in Finn’s chest.

“I thought you were used to it. I'm pretty sure you even quoted Elsa on that once, baby."

When Logan just continued to pout, he gently leaned down to kiss his messy airplane curls, "If you let me go you can have my jacket.”

Logan was quiet for a minute, “No, you’re warmer.”

Leo chuckled and grabbed their suitcases, “Kase and Nat are over there. I think they spotted the taxi, let’s go.”

Logan peeled himself off of Finn, still pouting a bit but the thought of a warm car seemed to do the deal. Finn and Leo followed quickly, helping Kasey to put all their bags into the back of the car before getting in themselves. Finn leaned forward to tell the driver their destination.

It was quiet for a while after that, everybody was quite exhausted from the flight, Logan was already dosing off on Leo’s shoulder; he carefully moved his fingers through the brown curls, a loving look in his eyes.

“Thank you,” said Nat suddenly, looking at Leo.

“What did I do?”

“For coming up with the idea,” Kasey added, “We haven’t seen Alex for three months now, so, thank you for thinking of us.”

Leo smiled at them, “It’s unfair that you can't see him regularly and I thought it might be a nice surprise for him.”

“I hope he will like it,” Nat said sleepily, resting her head on Kasey’s shoulder.

“I’m glad my brother found you two, I really am. I mean, the distance sucks but he’s so happy with you. He deserves that more than anything,” said Finn and bumped his shoulder lightly with Kasey’s, careful not to wake Nat.

“I’m sorry.” Kasey said and Finn wasn't sure if it was to himself or someone else.

“What?”

“Well, I knew I loved your brother since Tampa and I didn’t have the guts to do something about it. It probably would have saved us some time.”

“Nah, who knows if everything would have worked out like it did now. Sure, maybe you could have saved some time and pain but I’m just glad you found your way now.”

“Thank-” Kasey started but got interrupted by the driver, “We are here, sir.”

Finn reached for his wallet but Kasey was faster, “Take it as some kind of thank you.”

Finn smiled at him. “Will we do it as planned?”

"Yep, we will wait around the corner, you go in."

Natalie and Kasey walked as quietly as possible but the loud noise of the three other suitcases was enough to drown out the rest anyway. The moment Finn knocked on the door, it flew open, as if the older O'Hara had been behind it for some time.

"Bubbles!"

"Alex!", Finn screamed with equal enthusiasm, laughing at the silly nickname. He threw his arms around his older brother and just held him tight. Finn missed him too, it's not easy if you grow up in a close relationship with your brother and suddenly you are miles and miles away.

Finn didn't want to let him go just yet and decided to continue their hug. It had been too long, really.

Alex just laughed and squeezed him tightly. "Come in, Mum and Dad already made tea and coffee and they bought your favourite- Leo? Logan? What are you doing here?"

At that Finn stepped back, looking at his brother sheepishly, but determined.

Alex's confused face made Logan chuckle, "Hello to you too, Red. How are you doing? I'm good, thank you. I missed you too." Alex rolled his eyes but gave them both a welcoming smile. "Finn can't go a day without us, so he asked us to come with us."

"I did not say that!"

"Mhh, whatever makes you sleep at night, sweetheart," Leo leaned down to kiss their pouting lover. Finn rolled his eyes at him.

Alex still seemed to be trying to piece everything together, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Guess I just forgot," Finn shrugged and moved past his brother to greet his parents, pulling Leo with him. The taller boy had of course met the O'Hara's but he was still nervous. They had barely made it into the room before both got tackled by hugs.

"It's great to see you Haley," Leo said when he let go and received a loving pat on the cheek as a thank you. They switched places and her arms were replaced by a firm grip around Leo's shoulders.

"Where is my other boy?" Finn's mother asked, going up to her toes and looking around the room.

"Here," Logan said, who came into the living room right that instant, Alex close behind him. "There you are! Oh, come here I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Why do you get so excited to see Logan? You weren't that excited with me. Betrayed by my own mother, I can't believe it!" Alex complained, holding his hand over his heart.

His mother snorted at Alex's dramatic reaction. "Stop whining and make yourself useful, get some tea for Leo. You still prefer tea, right?"

"Yeah I do, thank you," Leo said with a smile and then blew Alex a kiss, who just subtly flipped him off in return.

The six settled down shortly after and Leo sent out a quick text to Kasey; not a minute later the doorbell rang again.

"Alex, would you be so kind?"

Alex gave his mother a quick nod, before making his way over to the door. He was expecting the mailman but the people in front of him were most definitely not a package. Alex just froze in place and he was pretty sure his mouth fell open too.

"Hi, baby," said Kasey with a soft exhale, his smile as bright as ever.

"Wha- I- What?" Alex still hadn't moved.

"Surprise!" said Natalie who threw herself at Alex, jumping up to wrap her legs around the boy's hips. He caught her easily and after another minute of shock, tears formed in his eyes and he pulled the blonde impossibly closer to his body. Alex put a hand on her cheek, kissing her softly. He blinked rapidly and looked up when they parted and Natalie jumped down to the ground again.

"That bad to see us, eh?", said Kasey softly, who still stood in the doorway and watched the whole interaction with a warm, fuzzy feeling around his heart.

"God, just- come here."

Alex didn't care about anything at all when he finally locked his lips with Kasey. His hands immediately went into the soft long hair of his boyfriend, craving as much closeness as possible. After another moment, Alex pressed their foreheads together, catching his breath.

The rustling behind them, broke through their shared breaths, "We'll give you a moment to catch up," Haley told them, a knowing smile on her lips as she ushered the other men into another room.

Somehow his mother always knew what was going on. He turned back to his partners, still unable to grasp that they were actually here, in New York City, with him.

"Missed us?" Nat asked as she stepped up close to Alex again, slotting herself underneath the already held out arm of her oldest boyfriend.

Resting his head on hers, he gestured for Kasey to join their group hug. "More than I could ever put into words."

"Love you, Alex." Kasey breathed out as he felt his boyfriend's arm wrap around his waist, snuggling his face into Alex's neck and placing a few soft kisses there.

Another arm was placed around Kasey's waist as Natalie gathered her boyfriends closer to her, breathing in the familiar smell of Mango Shampoo and of the sanitizer Kasey always uses after flights. It mixed with Alex's aftershave, that she still couldn't assign anything else than home, love and safety. It was Alex.

"Love you." she murmured, not willing to move her head further away that was necessary to get the words out.

Alex smiled at them. Oh, how he had missed this. How he had missed them.

"Love you both."

#lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #o'knutzy #o'darwin #joined fic #server anniversary #fluff #cw: food and beverages #rating: g

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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago

Note

for the kiss prompts... 16 with jonmartin?

Combined this New Years Kiss prompt with @ombreblossom‘s prompt for “a giggly kiss" and an anon prompt: “I wish you would write a fic where martin scoops Jon into his arms and Jon realizes how strong he is” damn if i dont deliver

Just a good vibes fic while I’m dying over the pre-finals stress. Check on your friendly neighborhood psychology students, especially juniors. They’re a-struggling.

Enjoy!!

Resolutions, 2.2k

CW: alcohol

“Happy New Year’s Eve!”

Jon wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s house. Maybe something haphazardly designed, with takeaway menus pinned to the fridge? Maybe the epitome of the bachelor pad?

He definitely hadn’t expected the open floorplan, spotlessly cleaned and well-organized, with furniture complementary to the walls and each other. Warm light spilled from every lamp, with purple and silver decorations inscribed with “2015” and “Happy New Years” dangling from almost every surface.

“You can close your mouth now, buddy,” Tim elbowed him lightly. “I keep my spaces clean, what can I say?”

Jon clamped his teeth back together and held out a bottle of white wine mechanically. “I brought this. Er, sorry I’m late.”

Tim shook his head jovially, taking Jon’s coat and scarf along with the wine, before handing the bottle back to him. “Party’s just getting started. We’ve been drinking a bit, playing some games.” He winked before nudging him toward the couches, where Sasha’s dark curls were just visible. “Go on, I’ll be right behind. They’ll be happy to see you!”

“Jon!” The man in question jumped and craned his neck to see Martin—or, more rightly, his hand—from over the edge of the couch cushions. “Good, you’re here! Sash and Tim are kicking my ass in Scrabble.”

Jon approached the living room, spying Martin, sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table, another bottle of white wine between him and Sasha, along with the aforementioned Scrabble board. “Scrabble isn’t a team sport?”

“Hey, Jon. Ooh, more wine, thank god, this one’s just gone.” Sasha scrunched her nose with her greeting, reaching for the bottle in his hands. “And no, it’s not,” she continued as she spun a corkscrew between her fingers. “But Tim is missing like half the tiles so we can’t play four.”

“Tim’n’Sash ganged up on me,” Martin mumbled, the edges of his words softened, Jon assumed, by wine. “I didn’t even—I’m new to research, issnot fair.”

Sasha pulled the cork from the wine as Tim leapt over the cushion of the suede couch, landing neatly next to her. “I told you, you would get Jon when he showed up, which evens it out anyways. Stop pouting.”

“Am not.”

Jon folded his legs beneath his hips as he sat, examining the board and taking a proffered glass from Sasha’s hands. “Don’t worry, Martin,” he offered, smiling gently at the man, taking in the flush of his face and the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt—maroon, he filed away. Looks good with his hair. “We’ve just got to last long enough before Tim gets drunk or bored and starts to throw letters at us. Did he tell you that’s why they’re missing?”

Martin laughed aloud and the noise caught Jon off guard. It was a low, warm sound, loud in a way that suited the man. Jon smiled to himself, proud.

“I do-I do not,” spluttered Tim, pointedly ignoring Sasha’s raised eyebrow. “…I stopped that when we were down to one W.”

Jon nudged Martin, gesturing for the block of letters in front of him. “You’ll see. Our turn?”

Eight rounds, three glasses of wine, and a dodge from the letter E later, Jon was feeling properly comfortable. They were all properly buzzed, if not a little tipsy, and the clock ticked steadily closer to midnight. Martin and Jon had continued to be partners for all the other games they played: Charades, Pictionary, and a silly game Sasha had made up where they had to describe concepts like colors or sounds, without using words directly related to them. Martin had carried their team for that game, explaining through an embarrassed blush that he liked to read a lot of poetry. Jon elected to ignore that statement, though he was grateful for the edge it gave them; his competitive streak was willing to ignore a multitude of sins.

At 11:15, Tim flipped through the television programs, searching for one doing a proper countdown. One of the BBC Music channels was playing a Countdown playlist, with an eclectic variety of music on the playlist if the presented queue was any indication. Remote in hand, Tim spun on his heel, lip-syncing voraciously to the song, some dreadfully cheesy rock ballad. In turn, he focused on Sasha, then Jon, then Martin, hand outstretched to each of them in a mockery of longing. When he turned his attention back to Sasha, the chorus swelled and she took his hand, swinging herself under his arm with a grin on her face. Jon settled into the couch cushions, a warmth running through his chest as he watched the two spin with each other in a pseudo-dance. Martin sipped his glass of water on the other end of the couch, seemingly as happy as Jon to just watch.

As the song ended, the rock ballad was replaced by a pop song, one Jon didn’t know but it was apparent everyone else did. Tim sang along in a horrendous shout-sing, and Sasha grabbed Martin’s hand, tugging on it lightly. Martin rolled his eyes, resisting briefly as Sasha wordlessly argued with him, but her will was stronger and he laughed softly as she pulled him to his feet and jumped around to the beat, air-guitaring in circles around him. Eventually, Martin closed his eyes and leant into the dance, reminding Jon vaguely of his club days with Georgie, the dozens of hot, sweaty young adults without a care in the world of who saw them dance. And, most importantly, dance badly. Martin was truly terrible, but Jon was unable to tear his gaze away. He wasn’t matching the tempo and he knew about half the words as he joined Tim in singing the chorus, but there was something about him that was absolutely intoxicating, more than the wine Jon had consumed.

The Beatles played next, and of course Jon knew them. They had been his grandmother’s favorite, and for good reason. He hadn’t even realized he was singing under his breath to Come Together until Tim’s TV remote was shoved under his lips unceremoniously. Without thinking, he accepted the faux-microphone and joined the trio, standing from the couch to the coffee table in socked feet. As he sang, voice growing in intensity, he swung his arms wide, the images of clubs and dancers and stages at the forefront of his mind.

When the song ended, Jon was breathless, and the smattered applause from his friends brought him out of his reverie. He blushed, suddenly acutely aware of the blood rushing through his body and the heart that was pumping it. he handed the remote to Tim and moved to step off the table, chewing on his lip as he did so. Before he could make the awkward step to the floor below, he yelped as he was suddenly swept off balance. The spinning of his mind, thanks to the alcohol, confused him briefly before he realized he hadn’t fallen and was actually being clutched in a pair of strong arms, bridal-style. Martin’s arms, to be precise. His brow was furrowed in concentration, though he held Jon like he weighed almost nothing.

“Ah, you said you didn’t want to fall.” Martin shrugged and bounced Jon in his arms slightly as if that explained everything.

He had? “Mmm-thank you Mar’n,” Jon murmured, eyes unsure where to land and deciding on a loose curl that hung over Martin’s forehead. He wanted to pull it, Jon realized, and he did so, gently, giving the coil a tug, and giggled to himself as it sprang back in place. Martin was a lot stronger than Jon gave him credit for, and warmer too, though that may have been the alcohol. It was nice, being held like that, and Jon felt himself nestle towards the heat of Martin’s barreled chest without thinking about it.

Tim and Sasha, to Jon’s relief, hadn’t seemed to notice, deep in conversation. Martin deposited Jon safely on the couch and slumped next to him, unbuttoning his collar a little more and turning his attention quite intently to his phone.

The music carried on, and Jon was pulled into a few more dances with Sasha and Tim but felt himself gravitating towards Martin as the hour pursued, making excuses to scoot closer on the couch. A few videos of kittens later, he was properly next to him, watching Tim and Sasha tango to Britney Spears and the clock that ticked steadily towards midnight.

As 11:50 hit, Tim lowered the volume and flopped next to Jon, sweat beading on his forehead. “Alright, mates, resolutions for 2015, go.” He popped a grape from the platter that rested on the chair nearby. “Mine’s to get outside more, I haven’t been able to get out of London much. Maybe go backpacking, see the world.”

Sasha shrugged and perched on the armrest of the couch, feet resting on the cushion next to Tim. “Patience, I think. Listening to people better.”

Jon surprised himself by speaking. “Work-life balance,” he mumbled, dragging his eyes from the coffee table to meet Tim’s curious expression. “It’s not like Elias cares much what the researchers do.”

“Hell yeah, mate!” Tim clapped him on the back. “Maybe you’ll finally come dancing with me. You’ve clearly got the skills.” He turned his attention to the final member of their party. “Marto? What about you?”

Martin shrugged, lips pursed in thought. “Mm, be more honest with people, I think.”

Tim nodded excitedly. “Oh yes, I would love to see Martin Blackwood, The Director’s Cut.”

The ginger shrugged. “I don’t think you’re missing much, honestly, just maybe a little more negativity, a little more feeling.”

“Regardless,” Tim waved the thought away. “Can’t wait to see it.” He cast his eyes to the ceiling and crossed his arms under his chest. “What do you think the illustrious Elias Bouchard does on holiday? I swear that man lives and breathes Magnus Institute.”

Sasha grinned. “Bet he wears nothing but a silk robe, with the Magnus owl embroidered on the chest, skulking around the house and drinking scotch, grumbling about budgets and paranormal stories.”

“Bet he has a cat he strokes menacingly while watching the stock market,” Martin added, sighing. “We can agree he’s a total Tory, right?”

“Oh, for sure,” came a chorus of affirmation.

The group sat in comfortable silence as an upbeat love song played on the television. Jon’s eyes were starting to feel heavy, like how they felt when he got them dilated at the optometrist. Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.

“Hey, guys?” The voice from his right was quiet, hesitant. Martin’s eyes were glassy, phone abandoned on his lap. “I’m really happy to be here, with you all.”

“Martin!” Sasha and Tim cooed happily, rushing to coat his words in affirmations and gentle kindness, sweet gifts with which to end the year. Jon opted for a quieter approach, not the verbally affectionate kind of man, placing a hand over Martin’s gently, squeezing his wrist once. He wasn’t even sure if Martin noticed it—he didn’t move his hand before Tim was shouting, hauling them up as 11:59 flashed on the screen and a countdown began to shout its way from 59 on the screen.

“Come on!” Tim crowed. “My mum always said you can’t stand still when midnight hits, or it’s bad luck. Something about starting the year moving.” Tim led them all in a sort of march, stomping forward and back, spinning in circles, and swinging each of his friends under his arms, though Martin had to duck rather considerably. All four of the research staff members were laughing through their words as they tried to add their discordant shouting to the last few numbers on the TV.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Tim grabbed Sasha around her waist and dipped her low as he kissed her, both grinning into the kiss. Jon chuckled and shook his head at the pair, before feeling the hand that was still on his tug gently.

“I-I said I wanted to be more honest,” Martin murmured, voice low in his throat. Jon nodded wordlessly, indicating for him to go on. His words seemed caught somehow.

“If I’m honest,” Martin continued, eyes flitting over Jon’s face before landing back on his eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

Jon giggled, actually giggled at Martin’s words, the boldness of the wine piloting his voice for a moment. “What are you waiting for?”

So Martin did, one hand on Jon’s waist and one tangled in the hair behind his ears, pressing Jon close and up towards his lips. It was a warm kiss, soft and gentle, and Jon’s head was spinning, not from the buzz or the dancing but from the four points of contact he had with MartinMartinMartin Blackwood is kissing me and Martin’s hand is on my waist and my hand is on Martin’s cheek and his skin is so soft I think I could kiss him forever. Screw 2015; I’ll come back for 2016 and just kiss Martin for a year—

Martin pulled away, smiling down at Jon with a look of utter adoration. “Happy New Year,” he breathed. “Here’s to 2015.”

“H-Happy New Year,” Jon returned, ducking his head shyly at the gaze Martin was casting on him. “Let’s hope it’s a good one.”

#tma #tma fanfic #jmart #timsasha #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #jonmartin #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #fanfic to a tea #cw alcohol #new years eve #new years eve party

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bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Residue

RATING: R/smut (cw: emotional and mild physical abuse mentioned)

WORD COUNT: 8.5k eek

CATEGORIES: friends to lovers, camping!harry (?), sleeping in the same bed

NOTE: this is for the Sex Bucket List Fic Challenge from @berrynarrybanana - prompt was in a tent while camping with friends....and then I just kind of created this mess. check out the other fics and the amazing creators!!!!

I ENDED UP WRITING A PT.2! Read Endlessly here.

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“When are you going to tell Y/N?”

Harry looked down at his feet. His boots were scuffed from walking through the rocky terrain to the lake earlier when they’d gone swimming. The image of you in her bikini flashed through his mind, and he restrained from groaning--he’d known you for years, swam with you for years, and yet seeing you in that bikini still did things to him, no matter how much he tried to tell himself you didn’t feel the same way about him. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Mitch let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “You can be so fucking daft sometimes, you know.”

“Y/N tells me all the time.”

“Well, she’s right,” he replied. “Tell her how you feel, Harry. She feels the same way.”

Harry looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “How do you know?”

“I can see it in how she looks at you. You’re blind if you don’t see it too.”

Harry paused. “How…”

“It’s the same way you look at her.”

Harry and Y/N go camping with their friends and the fact that they’ve been in love with each other comes out

The drive out to the country was peaceful. Harry put on a podcast about music on the way and you listened as they analyzed Beyoncé’s Lemonade, pausing it occasionally to ask Harry questions about the technical parts. With the sunshine and Harry’s commentary once the podcast episode ended, the drive to the campgrounds in West Sussex passed quickly.

Harry had booked your camp site last weekend, their trip a last-minute decision. You, Mitch, Sarah, and Nick had all been at Harry’s for a cookout and he’d mentioned wanting to get out in nature before the tour started, and Mitch threw out going camping. Nick took some convincing, but eventually he agreed. You and Nick had managed to get the time off from work, although Nick had to head back a day earlier, and it was settled. You had all left the particulars to Harry and when he texted a link to the campground in their group chat, you had fallen in love. Wooded, no power, cooking over an open fire--it reminded you of camping with your family when you were young.

“Excited?” You asked Harry when you pulled into the parking lot at the front office. You threw the car in park and turned off the ignition, looking over at your best friend.

He grinned back at you, eyes gleaming. You knew he’d been looking forward to this ever since you had first talked about it--he’d been calling you every day to go over the plans and picking out their meals for the weekend. “Psyched.”

You both climbed out of your car, stretching from the drive, and you inhaled the sweet smell of English oak trees, the sound of birds chirping making you smile as widely as Harry. Nick, Sarah, and Mitch were waiting by their cars, and Nick seemed to be animatedly telling a story about who knows what.

“Is Nick being annoying?” You asked, throwing your arm around Nick’s shoulders and ruffling his hair.

“He’s telling the story about the Brits. Again,” Sarah said, reaching out to hug you. “Save us, please.”

“Oi, you’re being mean.” Nick said and Sarah just laughed and shook her head.

Mitch gave you a quick hug and you smiled at him--they’d all been working a lot lately in preparation for the tour. You had barely seen him, Sarah, and Harry, and you missed their presences more than you had realized. “Let’s go see what Harry got us,” you said.

“Spoiled you lot rotten,” Harry said, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his nose.

“I’d hoped so,” you replied, and Harry chuckled softly before leading the group inside the office.

“Reservation for Y/N,” Harry said to the receptionist and you looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t want anyone finding us,” he explained and you nodded immediately in understanding. After years of friendship, you were used to it, though it always tugged on your heart. You wanted, more than anything, for him to be able to be normal at some point. You knew he craved it too--anonymity.

The receptionist clicked some buttons on her computer before pulling some folders out of a drawer and turning back to you all. “I’ve got three yurts reserved for you all--is that correct?”

Harry’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “I had requested four over the phone.”

The receptionist--Martha, according to her badge, frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Unfortunately, though, we’re all booked up this weekend. Is there any way three could be made to work?”

That meant someone was going to have to share. Harry looked at you, and then at Nick. “Nick, you good to bunk, mate?”

Nick groaned and you rolled your eyes at him. “Fine, but if you kick me in your sleep I’ll lock you out.”

“I don’t think they have doors, Nick,” you told him.

He looked at you and grimaced. “Zip him out then.”

“How threatening,” Harry said, before looking back to the receptionist. “That’ll be fine.” She nodded and explained the rest of the check-in and check-out policies and the amenities on the site. It seemed perfect--a pub not too far from the grounds, camp fires you was most definitely going to take advantage of, and actual showers. He truly was spoiling you all.

You walked back to the car with Harry to drive to their yurts, swinging your keys around your finger in thought. “H,” you said when you sat down in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for bunking with Nick. I know you like your own space, so I appreciate it.”

He gave you a wide smile and you couldn’t help it--it warmed every part of you. It was moments like these you struggled to remember that Harry was just your friend. Nothing more. You’d dated people, he’d dated people, and you two were just friends. But then he’d look at you like this and you wanted more. “‘Course, love.” He reached across the console and gave your hand a quick squeeze, and your heart flopped in your chest.

You were starved for touch--it’d been months since you broke up with your asshole of an ex and you were desperate to be touched, even if it was someone holding your hand. Usually you could count on Harry for some cuddles and tight hugs, but he’d been so busy practicing for tour that you hadn’t seen him much. Just FaceTime and the occasional meet-up at the café by your office on your lunch break and it seemed to be showing.

You started the engine and prayed to the Gods that they would help you get through this weekend in one piece.

The yurts were in a quiet part of the campground, secluded and in a thicket of trees. All you could hear was the sound of wind whistling through the leaves and the chirping of birds. After living in London for the past two years and barely leaving, it was a relief to be able to hear nothing but nature.

Nick let out a whoop when he opened the door to his car. “God, this is gorgeous, isn’t it?” Sarah and Mitch pulled up a second later and you all wandered around the campground, deciding where you would put your chairs (around the campfire, obviously) and what you wanted to eat for dinner. Then, you started to unpack. You claimed the tent closer to the woods, wanting not to be awoken in the middle of the night if cars drove by and to get away from the group if you went to bed early, something that you had a tendency towards when Nick and Harry were together.

The sound of the yurt being zipped open caused you to look up from where you were checking to see if there were bed bugs. After getting them when you were 13 on a family trip, you always checked. “This going to be okay for you?” Harry stood hunched over, his head poking into your yurt. His shirt was unbuttoned, the beige linen flowing in the soft breeze, and his hair flopped into his face. His green eyes were gleaming, a look he only got on break or on holiday, and it was your favorite look on him. He looked just unperturbed and blissfully happy.

“Come in, silly,” you said, turning around and flopping down onto the bed. “It’s perfect, H.”

Harry grinned and dropped down next to you. “Comfy, eh?”

“Very.”

“I should plan every holiday at this rate.”

You whacked him with the pillow. The last holiday you had planned and the hotel had ended up being bad and their reservation for their yacht trip fully did not exist when they showed up. It was a disaster and Harry had yet to let you live it down. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“What? I like planning!”

“And you like being complimented.”

Harry huffed and you just smiled at him. After knowing one another for years, not only did you know everything important about Harry, you also knew how to push his buttons. Calling him out for what you had longed believed to be some kind of praise kink (you’d asked him about if while drunk and he’d looked so confused and embarrassed you dropped it) was the number one way to get him riled up.

“How’s your tent with Grimmy?”

“He’s already asleep.”

“It’s noon.”

“Apparently he didn’t sleep last night.”

You laughed because it was classic Nick. It happened on almost every holiday you went on together, of which there had been a few. He’d get to wherever you were staying and immediately fall asleep for usually the rest of the day. You all usually just left him where he was and went about your business, but he also usually had his own room. “Were you able to put your stuff down at least?”

Harry shrugged. “Just dropped my suitcase on the ground and left him. I’ll wake him up eventually.” He turned his head and looked at you, his head so close that if you turned your head up ever so slightly, you could probably kiss him.

“Fancy a swim?” You asked him, sitting up suddenly and trying to push the thought away.

“Fuck yes,” he replied. “Let me change into my suit.”

The sun was out in full force when you jumped into the lake, your towels and clothes abandoned on the edge of the water. You were lying on your back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of sun on your skin. Mitch and Sarah were swimming around--you could hear them chattering about how Sarah wanted a dog and Mitch wasn’t into the idea--but you didn’t know where Harry was. You couldn’t hear him. Maybe he’d swam a little further away?

You pushed the thoughts from your mind and focused on not thinking about anything, which somehow took a significant amount of effort. Work kept trying to drift into your head--had the office finished the pitch that you had left for them on Thursday? It was a big account and you had put your all into it, but you hadn’t finished the final touches on Thursday before you had to leave the office, so you left it for your coworkers to wrap up on your behalf. Hopefully they didn’t half-ass it.

Suddenly, fingers wrapped around your waist and you were being flipped onto your stomach, water immediately filling your nose and mouth. You snapped up, water flicking from the ends of your hair, and blinked the droplets away so you could see who had done it.

Harry.

“You bastard!” You screeched, shoving him. His skin was slick from the sunscreen and water, and you tried not to focus on the feeling of his arm muscles under your palms. “I could’ve drowned!”

“You were a competitive swimmer, Y/N,” he reminded you, chuckling. “You weren’t going to drown.”

You sputtered, slicking your hair back, and then gave him a death stare. “Still. You’re an ass.”

“That’s not news,” Sarah piped up from where she and Mitch were treading water and laughing at what had just happened.

“This is true.” You gave Harry another look before shoving a wave of water in his direction, splashing water into his face.

Harry gasped, wiping water from his face, his hair, which had grown longer in the past few weeks while he’d been on break, sticking to his forehead. He looked like a little kid, despite how muscular he’d become in the past year or so. You tried to not linger on it, but when he was in front of you without a shirt on, sun-kissed skin just begging to be looked it, it was quite difficult. “This is war.”

He shoved water at you, and suddenly you were splashing one another like children, both of you screeching as water got into your eyes. Your feet collided underwater, arms hitting each other as you twirled around each other in the water, trying to surprise one another.

It was all fun and games until Harry’s hand reached out and accidentally hit you right in the boob.

“Harry!” You called out, swatting him. “You just hit me in the boob.”

“Fuck, sorry,” he said. “You okay?”

“Just sore,” you said, swimming a bit farther away from him. “Meanie.”

Harry gave you his puppy dog eyes, lashes blinking at you, plump lips sticking out ever so slightly. You hated when he did this because you always fell for it. Years of friendship and you still couldn’t hold anything against him when he did this because he just looked so goddamn gorgeous. You hated it. “Sorry?”

“Fine,” you said, “but you’re carrying me the whole way back to the campsite.”

You all ended up grilling burgers over the fire, Harry surprising you with some hidden skills over the open fire, and together the four of you drank beers as the fire glowed between them. Nick had never surfaced and Harry didn’t have it in him to wake him, so he let him be. Harry, Sarah, and Mitch had started playing music after dinner and you kept yourself entertained by requesting old One Direction songs, which made Harry stare daggers at you but amused you, Sarah, and Mitch to no end.

It was a chilly summer night and you were cuddled up in a sweatshirt of Harry’s, having forgotten yours at home, and a pair of leggings. You could feel your eyes drooping, your entire concept of time gone without the ability to check your phone. It could’ve been 9pm for all you knew. After a rendition of Landslide, you yawned and stretched your arms above your head, and decided to call it a night.

“I’m going to turn in,” you said, standing up from the chair you’d been in for the past few hours. “Which way’s the bathrooms?”

Sarah pointed to the right, and you nodded. You had to brush your teeth and pee before you could go to sleep, and you had no desire to traipse through the woods at night to pee in the brush, so you started off in the direction of the bathrooms, your toiletries bag tucked under your arm.

“Wait!” You turned to see Harry walking after you, his own bag tucked under his arm. “Didn’t want you to walk alone.”

You gave him a sweet smile and waited for him to catch up with you. “You ready for sleep too?”

He shrugged. “Probably be up for a little while longer, if that’s not too disruptive? Mitch and I thought we’d work on a song I’ve been thinking about. Thought I’d go ahead and brush my teeth, though.”

“I like listening to you play as I go to bed,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you thought about them.

Harry’s eyebrows knit together and he studied you. “Never told me that before.”

Probably because it’s embarrassing, you thought to yourself. You loved listening to his music before you went to bed, especially the voice memos he’d sent you over the years of bits of songs he was working on before they were fully mastered. They were more raw, less produced, the stripped down Harry that you loved. “You never asked.”

He filed that information away for later and you climbed the steps to the bathrooms, both heading into the same free stall. You’d stopped caring about peeing in front of one another a long time ago. You went first, listening to Harry prattle on about a book he was reading that he thought you’d like as he washed his face. When you finished up, you switched places and you started brushing your teeth, stealing his toothpaste because it tasted nicer.

“You should just buy some for yourself,” he commented.

“But I can use yours for free.”

He didn’t reply, just let you be, and you brushed your teeth next to one another, Harry knocking his hip against yours to make you smile.

“Glad you came,” he told you when you exited the bathrooms.

“Me too. Needed this, I think.”

“Same. Missed you, too.”

You studied his face, barely visible in the moonlight. His stubble was growing in, but he had a peaceful expression you rarely saw in him. You saw it in moments on tour, sometimes--when you were cuddled up on his sofa watching a film after a show, or after a morning run on a day off. But here, this was the purest form and one you wished you saw more often. You didn’t tell him, though. You’d had that conversation before--how you were worried he was overworking himself, believing that he was able to work so much after years in 1D, working with barely any breaks. You wanted his solo career to be different, but Harry had a tendency to find work even when he wasn’t touring or recording. He loved it so much that it was all he wanted to do. “Missed you too,” you replied simply, and leaned into him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

Mitch set down his guitar and looked at Harry across the fire from him.

“What?”

“When are you going to tell Y/N?”

Mitch let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “You can be so fucking daft sometimes, you know.”

“Y/N tells me all the time.”

“Well, she’s right,” he replied. “Tell her how you feel, Harry. She feels the same way.”

Harry looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “How do you know?”

“I can see it in how she looks at you. You’re blind if you don’t see it too.”

Harry paused. “How…”

“It’s the same way you look at her.”

With that, Mitch turned and went to where Sarah waited for him in their yurt, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. It was quiet, aside from the crinkle of the fire. Harry couldn’t remember when he fell in love with Y/N--there wasn’t some specific moment like they say in the books. It just...happened. The more time he spent with you, the closer you got, the more Harry hated leaving you. And when you dated other guys, it made his stomach turn to be around them. He tried to pretend like it didn’t, he tried to be nice and polite as you were to the girls he tried to date, but he knew he never was. He hated the way you would look at him when he’d make some snide remark, and he could feel the disappointment radiating from your stare. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to let you go.

He’d tried to bury himself in work, in touring, in women. He’d lived in LA for months to try and get over you, he’d even dated Kendall fucking Jenner to try and get over you. Nothing helped. Camille had been the closest he’d gotten, but there had always been something holding him back. When he’d found out she cheated on him, it was a relief more than heartbreak--he didn’t have to be the one to break up with her this time. And he always went back to you, pretending to be more broken hearted than he was just to get you to spend days on end by his side, eating ice cream and watching films that you thought helped him. In actuality, it was you who helped him. It was being by your side, it was laughing with you, going on walks, even fucking gardening with you at his house in Hampstead. Anything with you healed him.

And he knew it wasn’t fair, using you like he did. But he couldn’t help himself--it was the time when he could almost pretend you were his. It was when you ignored everything else and focused on only him and that attention is what he craved. You, together, no distractions. It’s what he wanted this weekend to be, but then you suggested inviting friends, and how could he say no to you? How could he tell you he just wanted to be with you for the whole weekend, the rest of the world forgotten?

Mitch’s words, though, were a stab in his heart. He’d always convinced himself that there was no way you could feel the same. You had fallen in love, you’d told him. With Tom. Bloody Tom. You’d met at some networking dinner and he’d asked you out, and from then on it was Tom, Tom, Tom. You had dated for a little over a year and Harry despised every second of it. Tom treated you like dirt--belittling you in front of your friends, in front of Harry, even, controlled your time and your friends. Boxed you in like you were some animal just there to please him, no life to speak of. It had happened while Harry was on tour and then in LA, so he hadn’t been there in person for most of it, and when he had been around you two together--whe he came home for the holidays and saw you, you had played it off. Said it was nothing, just a joke.

But then her college roommate Jordan had called Harry, worried out of her mind about you. Told him how Tom treated you, all the things he’d done, how he’d manipulated you--hit you one time. Jordan was in New York City and work wouldn’t let her leave, but she knew Harry could go. She told him it was getting bad and he had to get you out. And so he did. He took the next flight out, barely packed a suitcase, and went. He went to your apartment and told you that Jordan had told him what happened, and you two had a massive fight over it, you defending Tom, Harry trying to convince you he had manipulated your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings, and you both ended up in tears before you finally let him take you to his house to stay for a few weeks. And together, you’d pieced his fierce Y/N back together.

And all that time, he had never thought...He never thought you’d loved him. Not as he did, at least. You’d told him so many times that you loved him, but it was just as a friend. You’d made that clear in the ways you touched him and introduced him to people. He was your Harry, but just your friend. Your best friend, but friend all the same. It broke him, as much as he tried not to let it show. But for you to feel the same way? All this time?

And what did Mitch expect him to do? Bust into your tent and admit his undying love for you, you to admit you felt the same way, and for you to ride off into the night together? This wasn’t some romance novel (which Harrry knew Mitch read, even though he tried to hide them). This was reality, and in reality, it was just Harry, writing songs about you that you’d never understand the true meaning of, and a yurt shared with Grimmy.

He stood up, his guitar held tightly in his hand, and put out the fire before heading into the yurt. Nick was spread eagle on the bed, still somehow asleep--Harry had never understood his ability to sleep literally all day--and snoring. Loudly. Harry sighed and went over to his suitcase, tugging off his jeans and sweatshirt and folding them neatly into the case. He pulled a henley and pajama pants on, knowing if Nick woke up to a half naked Harry in his bed he’d most definitely not let him hear the end of it, and walked over to the bed. He tried to shove Nick over and make space for himself, but the man was most definitely stronger than Harry had realized.

Had he been working out lately?

Harry gave his arm another shove, but Nick didn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, Nick,” Harry said. “Do you have to seriously sleep like the dead?”

He looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything he could fashion a makeshift bed with. But there wasn’t even a spare fucking blanket.

Maybe Sarah and Mitch would have one? Then he pictured walking into the couple’s yurt and immediately decided against that idea. That left you. You’d slept in the same bed before, albeit usually while drunk--maybe you’d let him sleep with you? Just for the night?

Harry slipped on his flip flops, grabbed his flashlight and made his way over to your yurt. It was quiet except for the sound of your soft breathing and he immediately felt at peace, despite what his mind told him. He unzipped the front of your yurt and stuck his head in. It was dark and he could barely make out your figure, curled up tightly under the covers, hair strewn across the pillow.

“Y/N?”

After a beat, he saw your body shift and your head stick up from the pillow. “Harry?”

“Can I sleep with you? Nick’s taking up the whole bed and snoring like a train.”

You giggled--and Harry’s heart started racing--and then said, “Of course. C’mere.” You lifted the edge of the blanket and Harry toed off his flip flops before walking over to the bed. “What time is it?”

He laid down next to you carefully, not wanting to brush up against you and make you uncomfortable. “Dunno. Late.”

You reached out for him, fingers brushing against his henley right over his stomach, and Harry’s heart seized. Did you know what you were doing to him right now? “Why are you lying there straight as a rod? I don’t bite, you know.” Probably not, he realized. You had no idea what the mere touch of your skin did to his heart.

“Don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice quiet in the silence of the yurt.

“You don’t, silly. Now c’mere.”

He moved closer to you and you turned onto your side so that your back rested against his chest, and he wound his arm around your stomach loosely, holding you to him. You’d laid like this before, after your birthday earlier in the year when you’d gotten quite drunk and he’d brought you home so you didn’t choke in your own vomit. You’d snuggled into him then, just like you did now, and he tried to think of anything to get his dick to stop from plumping up under his pants.

“H?”

“Yeah?”

“What was your song about?”

His breath caught in his throat. Had you heard it? It was so obviously about you, so unabashedly telling you how he felt. God, every song was about you. Even when he tried to make them less specific, when he tried to remove the details that would make it about you, you still left a residue.

“Harry?” Your voice broke his thoughts, so sweet in his ears. He opened his eyes, which had closed while he thought, and looked into your hair. He could smell the remnants of your perfume mixed with the fresh smell of oak from the woods and the essence of smoke from the fire. He wanted to bury himself in your smell, in you.

He should tell you. He knew he should. It was the perfect time--you were giving him the prompting. But he didn’t have the courage. “Did we wake you up?”

You rolled over and suddenly your face was mere inches from his. He could see your eyes in the dark, bright blue in the night. The ones that were painted in his dreams, echoes of you that never let him go. “Thought I heard something in the woods. Heard you instead.”

How much had you heard, he wondered. Had you heard his conversation with Mitch? You had been asleep when he had come into the yurt, so you had to have fallen back asleep. “What’d you think of it?”

You stared at him, your gaze searing through the protections he tried and struggled to keep up. “It was sad,” you said simply.

“Hmm?” He mumbled, not really knowing what else to say to that. Of course it was sad, he was in love with his best friend and he didn’t have the balls to tell her.

“The opening lines,” you whispered. “Put a price on emotion/I'm looking for something to buy/You've got my devotion/But man, I can hate you sometimes,” you sang it, perfectly in tune, hitting every note as he had around the campfire with Mitch. Your voice singing his words broke him in two, for some reason. They were the most honest ones of the whole song, he thought to himself, and the ones he was least likely to change. “Who is it about?”

Her question had changed. When you asked the first time, it was what. Now it was who. He studied you in the dark, searching himself. Could he muster the courage?

“Camille?”

“No,” he said, his words immediate. “No, not Camille.”

There was a rustle of the trees, but your eyes didn’t leave his. “Are you seeing someone new?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

He took a deep breath, and then, he pulled the words from the depths of his heart. “It’s about you.”

It was silent in the yurt. He couldn’t even tell if you were breathing. But your eyes didn’t leave his. He watched as your brain processed his words, pieced them together, matched them up with the song.

“Test of my patience/There's things that we'll never know/You sunshine, you temptress/My hand's at risk, I fold.” You said the words, no song to them, just words, flowing from your lips as poetry, not lyrics. “You...Me. Things we’ll never know--that’s us?”

He nodded, resisting the urge to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind your ear that had come loose.

“You've got my devotion,” you whispered, the opening lines coming back around. “That’s about me?”

“Yes,” he said, the word simple, soft, quiet in the dark. But it took every ounce of his courage. It was worse than when he’d decided to go solo, it was worse than going out on stage alone for the first time, worse than stepping on the X-Factor stage. The hardest words he’d had to say. “Y/N,” he whispered, summoning the last of his courage, “the songs are all about you.”

That made you go quiet for longer. You stared at him, taking inventory of every part of his face. He could feel your eyes and he didn’t even squirm--it felt different than it did when you usually looked at him. It felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Like a veil had been lifted between them.

And yet, you said nothing.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, the words breaking him. “I--I can go.”

But you pressed your fingers to his chin, instead. “Don’t go,” you whispered and this time it was him who stared at you. “I--I’m scared.”

“I know.” Your eyes blinked at him, eye level, so close he could see nothing but the rim of the blue, your long eyelashes he’d always admired. “I just...I can’t pretend anymore, love.” The nickname, long used between them, suddenly took on a new meaning in this moment. He could feel the shift in the air, the way the word landed between them. It slipped from his lips without him thinking about it, but he meant it in every which way.

You ran your forefinger along the edge of his jaw and Harry’s breath caught in his chest. “Me either.”

And then, you pulled his lips down to meet yours and it was like Harry’s world bottomed out. Your lips were soft, just like he’d imagined them, and you tasted like sugar and the watermelons they’d had for a snack after dinner. The hint of toothpaste lingered and it made him smile, remembering how you’d spoken in the bathroom. His fingers wound their way into your hair and you let out a soft moan that set Harry’s skin on fire.

Your teeth tugged on his bottom lip and Harry rolled you onto you back with a groan, begging for more, for anything you would give him. The kiss was deep, passionate, without end. You barely pulled away to breathe, wanting to never stop touching him. Your fingers crawled up his arms, across his collarbones, fire left in their wake.

Harry balanced above you on his forearms, head dipping to meet your lips over and over again, his fingers curled into your hair that was spread out on the pillow. Your legs tugged apart, letting him slot himself between them, leaning into you. It was like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

“Y/N,” he said, pulling back from your lips just an inch so he could speak. “I--I don’t want to do anything if you don’t--”

“I want you,” you said, your hands drifting from his shoulders to cup his face between them. He leaned into your touch and you smoothed your fingers across his cheekbones. “I’ve always wanted you. H, you’re everything to me.”

His lips found yours again without a second beat, and you pulled every ounce of his heart from his chest with your lips. The sheets rustled under their bodies as they moved, begging to get more and more of each other. Your hands wound under his shirt, tugging as he leaned back, pulling it off, the chilly night air nipping at his skin. You sat up, Harry balanced precariously on your lap, and pressed kisses to his skin, licking over his swallows.

Harry let out a moan, not being able to hold it in, but didn’t stop her as you made your way across his skin, claiming it as your own. He couldn’t hear anything but you--it was consuming, the feeling of being this close to you. Your teeth bit into the skin on his collarbones, sucking a bruise he knew would be there tomorrow, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wanted the world to know he was yours, that he loved you with every fiber of his being, unashamedly.

“I’m yours,” he said, his voice edging on a moan as you licked across his nipples. “Yours, Y/N, I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” you replied, and leaned back, tugging off his sweatshirt, which you’d worn to bed. You were bare underneath, and you could feel Harry’s eyes on your skin, learning you. Usually, you felt studied under the gaze of a man, but now, with Harry, you felt admired, adored, loved. His hands kneaded circles into your breasts and you arched into him, moans leaving your mouth in breaths.

You felt his tongue on your nipples, just as you had done to him, and your fingers gripped into the curls of his hair. “Fuck, H.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your sternum. “So, utterly beautiful.”

You leaned back onto your hands, chest rising and falling as he made his way down your body, inching farther and farther back on the bed until he was on his stomach, lips hovering above the waistband of your sleep shorts. His eyes met yours in question, and you nodded, words failing you.

“Need to hear your words, love,” he said, kissing your bare skin just centimeters above the bow on her shorts. “Want to make sure that you’re sure.”

“Take them off,” you said, struggling to speak as he licked your skin. “Touch me, H, please.”

And he did. He tugged your shorts down your legs, underwear coming with them, and pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, nipping love bites into the skin there. “You know, I dreamed of you last week,” he said against your skin.

“What?” You squealed as he sucked on the sensitive skin at the crease of your thighs.

“Of you, like this.” Then, he licked a stripe up her clit and you buried your hands in his hair, holding him there. “But in the dream, I couldn’t smell you.” He sucked on your clit, and you struggled not to scream his name. Your friends would hear and the last thing you wanted was to deal with that in the morning. “I couldn’t hear you,” he said, licking you again, and your head flailed to the side. “And I woke up before I could do this.”

And then, he dove his tongue inside of you, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, holding in the moans that begged to fly free. It was heaven, his tongue. Delving into her like it was made for you, curling inside of you and rubbing the front of your walls delicately.

“Harry,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet, “more, please.”

He wasted no time pressing his finger to your clit and rubbing you in circles, causing your chest to arch from the pleasure. You could feel a knot building in your belly, begging and begging for more.

“Please, H,” you let out in a moan, and that’s when you felt his own moan against your skin, the vibration of the stubble on your skin causing you to shake against him. But his free hand anchored your hips to his lips, and he continued his work, licking in and out of you, then up and down your folds, drawing soft moans from your mouth over and over again.

“Wanna hear you,” he said softly against your skin, “please, love, wanna hear you.”

“Don’t want to wake them,” you replied, struggling to look down at him. But when you did, the sight of his head between your thighs, hair a mess, eyes gleaming up at you in the dark, it ripped a moan from your chest that you couldn’t contain.

“That’s it,” he said. “Don’t give a fuck about them. S’just us, yeah?” He kneaded circles into her skin with his hands and sucked harshly on her clit, your hips bucking in response, but he didn’t let go. “What d’ya want, love?”

His words were rough, broken from pleasure. You loved the way he sounded, having never had the opportunity to have him this way. “Fingers,” you said. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” His one hand left her hips and circled your entrance, drawing your wetness around his fingers. “Fuck, love, you’re so wet.”

“H,” you breathed out, “please.”

That’s all he needed. He dipped his forefinger inside of you, your tight walls gripping him like a vice. But to him, you were virtue--you were everything to him, everything good in the world wrapped up in a single person. He curled his finger, brushing against a spot that made you squeak and he smiled before adding a second finger. “Come for me, love,” he said, sucking on your clit. “Wanna taste you.”

And that’s all it took. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, your hands gripped in his hair, keeping his face there as he licked your clit softly, drawing shock waves from your body over and over again. You struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting to watch him as you came, and he held your eye contact as you did. When he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them, you just stared at him, wondering if this was real. If he was real.

“Taste sweet,” he said, crawling up your body, pushing you down onto the bed with the weight of him. You loved it, the feeling of his skin on yours, of his body on yours. “With an edge of sourness.” He pressed his lips to yours, and you licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. You hadn’t been this turned on...ever, you realized. “Tastes good,” he said against your lips.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “Felt good too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re good at that, you know.”

He chuckled at you and pressed a kiss to your cheeks. “Can’t wait to do it again.”

You captured his lips again, arms winding around his chest, pulling him into you, closer and closer until you couldn’t find the space between you. And then, you rolled, taking him with her, leaving him on his back and you flush to his chest. “Some other time,” you said softly, drawing back. “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he let out, gaze travelling up your body as you sat back on his hips, bare center brushing over his pajama pants. “Want you too, baby.”

You smirked at him. “Baby?”

He blushed. “Sorry, it just--”

“Shh.” You pressed a finger to his lips. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” You rolled your hips over his erection and he bucked up into you, not being able to stop himself, drawing groans from both of them. “Wanna hear you, H,” you whispered, tossing his words back at him. “Hmm?”

“Take ‘em off.” He bucked his hips again, and you smiled down at him. Your fingers curled around his pants and his underwear, and crawled back, pulling them off together in one motion, just as he had done to you.

You held him in your hand, brushing your thumb over his tip, the pre-cum slick against your skin. Your tongue licked a stripe up the underside of him, drawing a moan from his chest as you laved circles around the tip of his length.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “Not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he said. “Need--”

“I know,” you replied. You pressed another kiss to him and clamored back up his body. “Wouldn’t have happened to bring condoms, would you?”

“Fuck,” he said, “no, wasn’t exactly planning this.”

You pressed a kiss to his chest, trying to calm the panicked look in his eyes. His hands ran up and down your thighs, his touch consuming you. “I’ve got the implant,” you said, “if that’s ok with you.”

“I’ll pull out,” he said, leaning up on his elbows. “Promise.” Then your lips found each other’s and you rocked your hips against him, the slick of you dripping down onto his length. He swallowed your moans and you did the same, the dark of the night wrapping around you, encasing you in a world that was just the two of you.

You reached down and ran your fingertips along his length, brushing his tip against your slit, the feeling sending tingles down her spine.

“Please,” he begged beneath you, fingers digging into your hips to where there would probably be marks tomorrow, “please, Y/N.”

When you slid down his length, your eyes shut from the sensation of him stretching you. You didn’t stop until he had bottomed out, you hips flush against one another. You could feel his eyes watching as you adjusted to his size, to the burn of him inside of you. It was surreal to have him like this, to have him so close to that you couldn’t find where you ended and he began. To have his lips find yours as you began to rock back and forth on him, open mouths meeting like old friends, begging for more and more and more. It was heaven, you decided, this was heaven on earth, this feeling. Your head snapped back when he bucked up into you, hitting a deep spot that made your arms shake. And then he ran his tongue down your exposed neck, nipping and biting into your skin, whispers of your name like an echo around them.

You wanted all of him. Every single part of him, you wanted to have his laughter and his smile and his words and his thoughts and his love. You wanted his body in the morning and the night and across the distance. You wanted him to hold you in his arms always, to care always. To you, he was hope, he was a bright spot in a sea of darkness. He was the antithesis of your exes, of Tom, of the men who had used you up and left you in a bed of nails. Harry built you up, stoking your fire with actions that showed you how much he cared, never wavering from your side, always running back when you called. No matter how far he went, the residue of him never left your mind, body, or soul.

Harry’s arms caged you in and suddenly you were on your back and he was above you and inside of you and everywhere. His fingers danced across you skin as his hips snapped into you, moans drying in your throat because you could barely think from the pleasure zipping through your body.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he said, words darting through the fog, “I love you.” He was holding you so tightly in his arms that you wondered if he thought you would run. As if you wanted to be anywhere else but here, beneath him, close to him, breathing him in and out.

“I love you too.” The words left you without hesitation and you pressed your lips back to his as you chased your highs together, his hips never stopping. He pulled one of your legs high on his hip, reaching a new depth inside of you, and you scrabbled at his back with your fingers, leaving marks in your wake. “Right there,” you whispered against his shoulder, biting softly into the skin there.

He pistoned his hips in and out, hitting the spot over and over again. “Yeah? Right there, baby?”

You had always joked he had a praise kink, but now that you had him, you knew you were right and good lord did you feed right into it. “So good,” you mumbled, “so good Harry, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, tongue darting to the spot under your ear when you turned hyourer head, choking on a moan when he thumbed your clit. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Gonna tell you every day. Never going to stop now that I have you. Finally.”

You dug into his ass with your heels, keeping him deep inside of you. Hands grabbed skin, and you basked in the heat that surrounded you, the sweat that stuck their skin together. It was perfect--he was perfect, he felt perfect, it was as if you were made for one another. Somehow, every movement he made was better, he navigated your body like he had the only compass and it was carved into his heart.

Every part of you ached, ached for him and for release. You could feel it rising inside of you, taught like a string, begging. “Oh my god,” you whined, spasming around him. Your hand gripped the back of his neck and dragged his head back to you, fingers digging into his warm skin. Your lips met as he pumped into you over and over, drawing moans from them both that never stopped. You loved that he made noise in bed, that he told you how good you felt, that he made sure you knew how incredible it was. Every kiss pressed to your clammy skin was a reminder of how much he loved you.

“Fuck.” A guttural moan escaped him when you clamped down on his length, your orgasm threatening to rip through you. “Not going to last, baby.” His forehead rested against yours as he dug into the sheets with his fingers and toes, using every ounce of his energy to bring you both to the brink. Your fingers scratched against his shoulder blades, gripping him close as you arched into him.

“I’m close,” you said, words ragged, “so close.”

“Come,” he breathed out, “please, Y/N.”

You pressed a kiss to his brow, the salt of his sweat against your lips. “Come inside me,” you whispered to his skin. “Want to feel you.”

His head turned, eyes meeting yours. “Sure?”

You dug your heels into his ass in response, gripping him like a vice to you. A moan ripped through him as he dug deep inside of you, pulling every piece of your love from her chest, just as you did to him. Then, he kissed you again, your name a mantra against your lips, and with that, your orgasm ripped through your body.

He chased it with every brush of his hips, running after you as you soared and fell. You held him close as you came down, struggling to find your breath. But you didn’t want him to move. You wanted to feel him, to see him, to hear him finish. And when he did, it was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. His eyes bore into yours, teeth dug into his bottom lip so deep it probably drew blood, fingers curling tightly into the sheets on either side of your shoulders. Slowly, his hips came to a halt and you could feel his cum inside of you. The air was silent except for your breathing as he rested his body against you, not pulling out.

You two laid there together, your arms wound around his waist, running your fingers up and down his back, his fingers threading through your hair. It was as if you were waiting for the words, because neither of you had them. What do you say after that?

Harry moved to pull out of you, but you held him fast. “Please,” you whispered, “just…”

He shushed you, knowing what you meant. You wanted him close. After denying your feelings for so long it was like they were consuming every inch of you, overwhelming your brain and your heart. Having him close helped tether you to the ground and you couldn’t let go. Not yet.

“Love you,” he said softly into your hair. “Love you so much, Y/N.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Love you too.”

“Think they heard?”

You giggled against his skin and you could feel his smile. “Probably. Don’t care that much, though.”

“Me either.”

You were quiet for a second before mustering the courage to ask the question swirling through your brain. “You’re not going to leave in the morning, right?”

He lifted his head and looked at you. “Never.” Then, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips and tucked his head into the space between your shoulder and your neck, his breath even against your skin.

And you both laid there, adjusting to what it felt like to finally have the one person you’d always wanted, praying that when the sun rose nothing would change.

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