#I reckon it clicks for him and he feels SO bad because are you joking??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whumpiary · 15 days ago

Text

soft landing (part 2)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 content warnings: referenced drug and alcohol use, referenced intimate partner violence, caretaker pov

They barely make it to 10am before Mal’s fishing out a container of mango sorbet from the freezer. Despite the time, it feels like the right kind of gastronomical accompaniment for the kind of day they’re in for.

They sit on the couch together, foot to foot, with a shared blanket over their laps. Gonzo, their half-blind ginger tabby, lounges between them like a big orange throw pillow made of fur as they pass the tub between each other, dead asleep and purring like a motor.

Mal keeps stoking the conversation gently to keep the door open on it. Nothing heavy. Idle chit-chat on and off that’s easy enough to keep up while they both half-watch Golden Girls and politely ignore the elephant in the room.

“How’s work going?”

“Yeah, better. Turns out when you’re honest about your learning disability instead of being a dumbshit, people are actually pretty chill about it.”

Mal smiles, a line of sorbet curling onto his spoon like a little rose as he scrapes it along the top, “Who’d have thought, huh?”

“Lou.”

Mal laughs. Sounds about right.

“So yeah,” Cass continues. “Way better. Off probation, getting more shifts. Turns out the manager’s kid has dyslexia too so she was actually really fuckin’ cool about it. Suggested some changes to make things easier. They just keep me on the floor now and someone else puts the orders through if I’m having a bad day with it.”

“Sounds like a good system.”

“Yeah. And Mandy said she prefers it that way anyway because I’m good at keeping customers happy,” Cass says, hands busy braiding the fringed trim of the blanket. He glances up with a half-grin. “Shoulda heard her the other day. She introduced me to the new hire as their resident psychic.”

Mal’s eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, so she-“

“Nah, she doesn’t know or anything, just a joke. Thought it was kinda funny though.” He pitches his voice up in an affectionately mocking echo of his boss’ voice. “I’m telling you, he knows what the customers want before they do! Just don’t know how he does it.”

Mal laughs and passes him the sorbet as he turns his attention back to the TV. On screen, Blanche is swanning onto the screen, all dressed in orange and completely mortified by something outrageous. He rests his head on his hand, elbow propped on the back of the couch as a yawn stretches the back of his throat.

Probably just shy of the twenty four hour mark for awakeness about now, he’d reckon. Should probably go a coffee if he’s planning to company-keep for the next few. But if he makes a coffee now, getting to sleep later is gonna be-

“Did I tell you I finally met the owner?”

Mal blinks himself back into the conversation with an inhale, clicking the context together as he turns his head with a smile, “Ah the mysterious Andrew. How was he?”

Cass’ nose wrinkles a little as he stabs at the sorbet with his spoon. He glances across with a half-baked and knowing smile, “He wears a three piece suit.”

Mal cringes, hissing in over-exaggerated disapproval, hand to his chest like he’s been shot. “Oof. Oxfords?”

“Loafers.”

“Wow, that’s worse.”

Cass laughs, sorbet spoon upside down on his tongue. “Right? Way worse.”

“He was alright though?”

“Yeah, he’s alright. Kinda full of himself but he’s a good guy. Nice. Like he makes jokes about being top dog and shit but he still helps do the dishes if he’s in when we’re closing.”

“Oh, that is nice.”

“Yeah,” Cass says. Getting to the next scoop of sorbet seemed more like a minor mining expedition, stabbing at it with his spoon. “He’s been really cool actually. He’s got another shop so he’s gonna keep an eye out if something more permanent shows up for me.”

“Hey, that’s great. Got someone in your corner.”

“Yeah,” Cass says again. He shrugs, sorbet halfway to his mouth. “Anyway, I’ve been sleeping with him.”

“Oh.” Mal says, after a few beats. He scrambles a little for a response. “Well, that’s…”

Cass cuts him off with a snort, bitter and derisive. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to pretend it’s like… a cute, quirky thing or whatever. I know it’s fucked.”

“Mate, I’m not judging-“

Another shrug. “You can if you want.”

“I’m not,” Mal assures. “Really. It just-”

“Yeah,” Cass says, frowning. He chews at his cheek. “Yeah, no, I know.”

He scrapes at the top of the sorbet, frowning at it, before stabbing at it aimlessly with the spoon again.

“So that’s where-” He shrugs. “-Last night. This morning, I mean. That’s where I was coming from.”

“Right.” is what Mal says. What he means is Well, shit.

Cass snorts another laugh, no humour to it, just bitter self deprecation on an exhale. He shifts forward and abandons the sorbet tub on the coffee table and Gonzo raises his head up with a chirp to see if it’s something he’s interested in pilfering.

“I don’t want you to think he’s some sort of, I don’t know, predator creep or something. It’s not like that,” Cass says. His fingers interlace with Gonzo’s orange fur, a shadow of a frown on his face. “He’s a good guy.”

Mal must react in some sort of minute way because a moment later Cass gives him a sideways glance and a self-effacing grin. “I mean, taste in men aside, obviously. He’s, you know, he’s a chill guy.”

The light tone of voice can’t seem to stick to the end of the sentence. Cass' smile flickers. And then fades.

Mal watches as a drop of condensation collects on the side of the punnet before running down the side to the coaster beneath it. He waits for more. Then he prompts, “... Is there a but attached to that sentence?”

The first flash of the look he gets is a glare, but that doesn’t stick either. It slides down the wall, greased up with grief and anxiety, landing somewhere in shame.

Cass’ hands can’t seem to figure out what they want to do with themselves, shifting between picking at his nails to toying with the blanket to fiddling with the leather bracelets around his list Lou had gotten him last Christmas. He shrugs, twisting and twisting at them.

Mal keeps his voice soft, “Is now the time I should be asking that question again, mate?”

“What question?”

Mal hesitates. He glances up from Cass’ hands to his face. “Should I be worried?”

Cass looks down, pulls his knees in tighter. His foot hangs off the edge of the couch cushion, bouncing like an idling engine. He twists the bracelet so tight around his finger Mal can see the skin of his wrist flush pale where blood is cut off.

“Cass?”

“I’m not…” he shakes his head and smiles, self-effacing. Ashamed, if Mal had to guess. “Look, I know it’s kind of fucked but I’m not good at judging that shit. What’s… like, what’s worry-worthy and not.”

Mal can practically hear the spiel Lou would give if she were here. Nothing cruel, necessarily, just a laying out of facts like evidence in a final address.

Cass rocking up out of the blue. The injury. The hesitation to share. The fact that they’ve seen a lot less of him the last couple months. And now the reveal of a secret relationship with someone holding power — and assumedly a few years — over him. Whether the last was malicious or not, with Cass’ history and the shaky, skittering look of him, it didn’t leave many other conclusions to be drawn than Be Worried Now.

But Lou’s not here. So Mal offers something a little less sledgehammer. “You’ve got a good gut, mate. What does your gut say?”

There’s a long pause, so quiet that Mal can hear the fridge whirring from the kitchen, its little tick tick tick as it moderates its own temperature. Gonzo stretches between them with another little chirp.

Cass chews at his cheek, twist-and-releasing his bracelets, “...I don’t know.”

He sucks in a breath, a tell-tale shakiness to it that gives Mal his cue to look away. From the corner of his eye, he sees Cass tip his head back like he’s trying to stop a blood nose from running, blinking rapidly. It hits something griefy and fond in Mal’s chest. Lou does the same thing when she’s trying not to cry.

He thinks of the way Cass had rubbed at the back of his neck earlier. Echoed habits of loved ones, collected over time. Affectionately imprinted, subconsciously reproduced.

Mal reaches for a box of tissues from the bookshelf beside him and puts it down wordlessly on the coffee table. He straps on his knee crutch as he stands, reaching to pick up the sorbet with the other. “Just gonna chuck this away.”

Cass gives a jerky nod and Mal hears the telltale little fft of a tissue being taken out of the box as he heads into the kitchen, puts the sorbet back in the freezer and clicks the kettle on.

He makes himself a cuppa with the blend 43, thinks better of making Cass a tea, and grabs him a glass of water instead. When he heads back in, Cass is curled up tight in the corner of the couch, blanket tucked up under his feet, tissue box cradled in the crook of one elbow, eyes red and puffy.

“Sorry.”

“You’re alright.”

“I’m so fucking embarassed.”

“No need,” Mal says as he sits, glass of water on the coaster.

Cass sniffs, twisting the tissue in his hands like he’s making the world’s shortest length of rope, matching the three or four already crumpled in his lap. “I’m so stupid, I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, come on-”

“No, I’m a fucking dumbshit. Complete fucking-” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale of breath. Mal finds himself holding his breath as he waits for the exhale. When it comes it’s shaky. Kind of defeated. Cass keeps his head bowed, frowning deeply at his hands. “Sorry.”

Mal shrugs, “All good, mate. Take your time.”

Cass nods and takes a shaky breath. In the end, he takes barely any time at all.

“It’s not how it sounds,” he says, voice crackling a little as he speaks. “He didn’t like… take advantage of me or anything. It wasn’t like that.”

“I believe you, mate,” Mal says quietly. Though… if there gets to be one more insistence of that particular fact it’s going to start to feel a little thin.

Cass picks at the tissue, turning it to confetti in his lap. “It was meant to be just this fun thing, you know? Bit of flirting, then a bit more than that…”

“I just wanted…” he shakes his head, cheek twitching in what Mal can only really take as a sort of self revulsion. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, you know? Like you guys are great, don’t get me wrong, but-”

“It’s not the same,” Mal chimes in. “I get that.”

“Right,” Cass nods, the back of his hand wiping under his nose. “And he was just… there. Wanting me. Flirting. And I… I’ve fucking missed it. It sounds pathetic but I just… I want to be wanted like that. I… I need to be wanted like that sometimes.”

Mal sighs, the weight of that twisting in his chest. He thinks of Josiah… then pushes that thought away. Not right now. “That’s not pathetic, mate. It’s human.”

“Wanna know what line he used to pick me up?”

Not really. “Yeah, go on.”

Cass gives him a side-long, dead eyed grin, “What’s a boy like you doing working in a place like this?”

He holds Mal’s gaze, like he’s waiting for him to laugh. When he doesn’t, Cass’ nose wrinkles a little and he looks back down at the tissue in his hands.

“Like it was that tacky, the writing was that clear on the wall. Like… day dot, first handshake. I fucking knew. He knew too. These guys, they just-“ he shakes his head, face crumpled in heartbreak. “They smell it on me.”

Mal opens his mouth to object but thinks better for it. He can feel the ramp up. He can feel what's about to happen. . Cass' voice is soft. Deflated.

“He hit me last night.”

Mal very carefully doesn’t shift where he sits. He doesn’t let the white hot fury that flares in through his chest show on his face. He stays still and calm and quiet.

“It was just a slap. Nothing that bad or anything. But he hit me.”

Mal takes a slow and even breath. Inhale for a count of six. Hold it for four. Exhale for six.

“So, your shoulder…”

Cass keeps his head down but his voice is sincere, “No, I really did fall into a wall.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it was… You know, he moved and I flinched and it was a whole… thing. But that was what happened. Tripped over my feet, landed funny. That wasn’t a lie.”

“Okay,” Mal repeats. “I believe you.”

The words tumble out of Cass like raindrops down a car window, rolling together and picking up pace.

“Look I’m not a fucking idiot, alright I knew it was kinda fucked up, that he was- you know. But I could, I could handle it, and it felt… it felt good that I was ha- I was handling it, and then-”

He sucks in a breath, shaky and rage-filled. Does the Lou-Bako-head-tilt, up to the ceiling again, blinking back tears. When he looks forward again he takes a slow breath that blows his cheeks out, seemingly determined to keep it steady.

“And then he hit me. And it was like waking up from a fucked up dream. Like, I’ve been living in this fucking bubble and it just…” He makes a gesture with his fingers, pinched closed and then flowering open in slow motion. Kaboom. “And then I could see every fucked up thing all at once.”

Like sensing Cass’ distress, Gonzo wakes up beside them with a little chirp, stretching out and twisting around until he’s on his feet again. He looks around with his good eye for all of about three seconds before hefting his full seven kilos of fluff and fat onto Cass’ lap. Cass breathes a laugh, claggy and wet from crying and scratches at Gonzo’s cheek with a finger, and the old ginger thing raises his chin in approval.

“Sorry,” Cass says after a bit, his deep frown in direct contrast to the blissed out contentment of the cat in his lap. “Sorry, I- I need to stop doing this to people.”

Mal waves him off, “Aw, come on. Since when am I just people?”

He means it as a joke but Cass looks at him sideways. Ah.

Still not actually a friend. Just the trusted party of the trusted party.

“Right.”

It doesn’t not sting.

“Look, I-“

Mal puts a hand up, “You don’t need to worry about my feelings, it’s all good.”

“No I just mean- Lou, Jos. They signed up for this. For… me. My mess. My shit. They… for whatever fucking fucked up reason they… But you didn’t. We’re not- I mean you’re just…”

Mal exhales, half-humour, “The in-law?”

Cass huffs a laugh, twisting at his tissue “Yeah. Guess so.”

The laugh track from the TV feels tinny and strange in the context of it all. Cass' eyes trace the screen like he's looking through a window, to another world entirely.

“I… I work for this guy, Mal. I have a job, I have a real fucking job and a lease and I’m actually getting my shit together for once and I’m…” He leans forward, eyes squeezed shut, muttering into his hand. “I don’t know what I’m meant to do now.”

“We’re gonna figure this out, mate,” Mal says gently, leaning forward to put his hand on Cass’ knee. Cass looks at the hand and then across at him with a face full of hope, grief, confusion. Mal nods. “You and me. The others if you want. We’re not leaving you alone in this. We’re gonna figure it out. Alright?”

Cass barrels towards him. For a moment, Mal thinks he’s being shoved away, that the contact and the sincerity were too much of an overstep and he’d breached some invisible boundary. But Cass’ arms latch around his waist. He heaves a sob.

When Mal shifts to hold him back, it's like Cass finally lets the wall between them come crumbling down.

#soft landing #cassius #mal #referenced drug use cw #referenced intimate partner violence cw #referenced abuse cw

15 notes · View notes

wordingg · 1 year ago

Text

Radio Silence

Summary: Cass goes silent over comms during an Arkham breakout and Steph rushes to find her.

Whumptober Day Seven fill. Prompt: radio silence.

A lot of people assume that Cass doesn't talk. And Steph guesses that in the strictest of terms that's true. She's not exactly verbose or whatever. But, if you know how to listen, she has a lot to say.

Maybe she doesn't say things with words, but she communicates constantly with looks, with tilts of her head and hips, by clicking her tongue, snorting at jokes, rolling her eyes. She's super expressive for people who are paying attention, and Steph always pays attention to her.

She thinks of the two of them as the perfect combination of traumas and coping mechanisms. Everyone seems to be aware of Cass' trauma and the way she copes. She was hurt badly for a long time and as a result she has trouble communicating and probably hasn't had enough support to combat that. But few people notice how Steph watches everybody, how she's always worrying about other people's moods and their opinions and their relationships. Growing up with dysfunctional parents will teach a kid to walk on eggshells, and it's a skill useful enough that it's hard to put down even with age and distance. And, to top that off, she's great at verbal deflection, always quick with a joke or a jab, anything to keep the focus off her and off of whatever is bothering everybody else.

So if Cass was quiet, Steph could fill in the gaps for her. And, if they were both watching, then nothing got by them. They were a force to be reckoned with when they were together.

Steph hated being separated from Cass. Since they started working together, she had felt more confident and more capable than ever before. But, it was the first Arkham breakout in over a year, so she understood the need to spread everyone out as far as they could.

"Does anyone have eyes on Batgirl?" Steph asked into her comm as she finished zip tying a rail thin old man in a bright orange jumpsuit to a street sign. She had got a bad feeling in her gut, and not just because that old man needed a social worker a lot more than he needed a vigilante like her.

"You're Batgirl," snorted Damian over the comm line.

"The other Batgirl, brat," Steph snarked back. That was a lame shot. She wondered if Damian was stressed or just bored. She couldn't read him as well as she could when he was little. He was getting older, already old enough to be in high school and sometimes she missed the much more prickly preteen version she was more familiar with.

"I thought I saw her near the docks," Tim said helpfully. There was the sound of wind behind his voice, which meant he was probably pretty high up, wherever he was. "But that was hours ago."

"Batgirl, comm in," Babs’ voice cut in barely a second after Tim stopped speaking. Steph was sure it was smarting against her pride that she was the only one not out on the streets that night, but with so many of them to coordinate, someone needed to be working comms and intel and Babs was the best.

There was silence on the line, just a very faint crackle from the small earpiece. Steph took the opportunity to shoot her grapple and get up to a higher elevation. That tight feeling in her gut was just getting tighter, and she felt sure she would be running soon.

"Batgirl, respond," Babs said, her voice steely. It sounded cold and unyielding to anyone who didn’t know Babs, which meant to Steph that she was upset. When Babs got upset, she would clamp down on her emotions like a drill sergeant snapping a tight salute.

Steph started running for the docks, jumping roofs and grappling across gaps.

"Oracle, tracker location?" Bruce rumbled over the comm line. The Batman voice had always been hard for Steph to decipher. She didn't live with Bruce or work with him as closely as the Robins, so she never got the hang of the way Batman communicated the way they did. That was probably half of why she couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him. How was she supposed to trust a 200 lb tank of a man when she could never get a read on how he was feeling or what he was thinking, and he never bothered to share with the class?

"Tracker is in the alley behind the Monarch Theater. Shit," Babs cussed, a crack in her facade. Steph made a sharp turn back toward the theater district and started running faster, her thighs burning. "The tracker hasn't moved in almost fifteen minutes."

The comm line lit up with people chiming in, questions and suggestions and locations being rattled back and forth and over one another enough that Bruce had to bark at everyone to shut up and let Oracle dictate orders.

"Batgirl, en route?" Babs asked.

Steph wanted to snort at her. Of course, she was en route. She had been from the second she asked about Cass. She wouldn't have asked if she hadn't known on some level that something was wrong.

Cass was quiet, but she still communicated on the comm. Even if it was just to click or to laugh or to play a little bit of wind or music across the line. Steph knew that because she knew Cass better than anyone.

"Almost there," she answered, the golden paint of the Monarch Theater already coming into view as she swung around to get to the right street. Normally the theater would be lit up with big spotlights, but on a dangerous night like that night everything was dark.

Steph dropped from a dangerous height directly into the claustrophobic small alleyway behind the theater. She shot her grapple off at the last second and let it yank viciously on her arm to slow her descent for a brief moment before releasing it and landing with a splash in a suspiciously green, slimy puddle.

She had barely straightened her knees before she spotted the lump of black fabric tossed haphazardly against a rusty green dumpster by the back door of the theater.

"Batgirl," Steph gasped, dropping to her knees beside Cass and splashing down into what was probably garbage juice and not giving a single fuck.

Very cautiously, she took Cass by the shoulder and pulled her over to lay on her back. She groaned, a gratifying sound to hear, but the next sound wasn't nearly so reassuring.

Cass started giggling, just a little, but it sounded convulsive, like hiccups. After a few halting giggles, Cass swallowed a small sob.

"Shit," Steph spat, feeling close to tears herself. "Shit shit shit."

"Batgirl, report," Babs barked into the comm.

Steph looked around the alley with a new thrill of fear running through her already thrumming body. She pulled the joker venom antidote from a small pouch on her belt, looking at the green puddles in the alley with a new sense of foreboding.

"Joker venom," Steph whispered into her comm while carefully administering the antidote to a small triangle of gray fabric on the inside of Cass's left arm. It was the only gap in her armor, left there specifically for administering meds in the field.

"Get out of there," Bruce barked through the comm. Steph didn't need to understand him to read the fear in his voice.

"Don't gotta tell me twice," she grumbled while moving Cass onto her shoulder as carefully and quietly as she dared. Cass hiccuped, giggled and sobbed in that order as Steph carefully maneuvered her.

Steph grimaced. "Don't worry, I've got you. You're safe," she whispered and shot her grapple toward the roof of the Monarch just as an eerie and unfortunately familiar cackle of unhinged laughter echoed nearby.

Her shoulder absolutely screamed from the strain of carrying both her and Cass's weight up to the roof, but the new wash of adrenaline that laugh sent through her body was more than enough to carry her through it.

She started running, her heart beating rabbit fast in her chest. Cass was a reassuring weight on her shoulder as she ran and jumped.

"Joker's still nearby. I heard him," she panted into the comm once she was reasonably sure that she was far enough away to be safe.

"Get to safety. Let me handle Joker," Bruce rumbled into the comm, all traces of fear gone from his voice. Not that Steph cared. She had Cass safe in her arms and the giggles were already tapering off.

"Fucking help yourself," Steph snapped and then muted her comm.

She was taking Cass straight back to the Watchtower and probably not detaching from her side for a week. Sometimes she hated this fucking job.

#whumptober2023 #radio silence #batgirls #fanfiction #joker venom #non consensual drug use #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batgirl #spoiler #orphan #black bat #kittywrites #no.7 #dcu comics

9 notes · View notes

restlessmaknae · 3 years ago

Text

it ends in blood & betrayal

When your father’s birthday party turns into a murder scene, everyone is suspected including you and your secret love - Ten.

➳ Characters: rich!Ten x chaebol daughter!reader/you

➳ Genre: murder mystery, drama, angst, romance

➳ Words: 11.4k

➳ Warning: mentions of the following: blood, stabbing, minor character death, smoking, casinos, implied infidelity, terrorist attack

➳ A/N: Dedicated to my favourite person on Earth @dat-town 💖

Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences.

You swore that if you heard ‘long time no see, Miss Kim’ again, you would go feral.

All these rich businessmen and chaebol family members thought that they knew you so well, and that they had anything to do with you apart from the fact that you were of the same social status. Much of the crème de la crème was invited to your father’s 50th birthday party that was held at your mansion which meant that you needed to fake enthusiasm when the tenth CEO came over to you to talk about how their business was doing. You were looking for only one person, but those deep dark eyes were nowhere to be found in the crowd.

“Fancy some champagne?” Your best friend, Nayeon, came to your rescue with two glasses of champagne in her hands. Thankful, you gave her a weary smile.

“Ah, you know exactly when to show up,” you remarked a bit more loosely, and reached for one glass of champagne. You chugged it in one-go. You desperately needed some alcohol to pull through this night. “I’m glad you could make it,” you added after putting the empty glass onto a waiter’s tray who came by, and thanked him with a polite smile.

“I’m glad I could make it, too,” she mentioned before looking around, watching all those familiar and unfamiliar faces become one big mass of chaos. It was always like this; whenever someone rich celebrated something, everyone had to be there, and being the daughter of a chaebol CEO, you were obligated to present yourself at any given event. Not that you weren’t used to it by now. In fact, you were all too used to it, but that didn’t mean it was any easier.

“Has your father made up his mind?” Nayeon blurted out, lowering her voice a bit to not attract any unwanted attention. Even though there was a bit of a buzz at the main scene - the grandiose ball room with multiple tables of gourmet foods and both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks alike -, you knew better than anyone that someone was always watching.

“Do you really think he would?” You quirked an eyebrow, not judgemental, more like bitter. “He thinks I’m only an asset that he can just give away to anyone he pleases,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. While it would have been flattering for probably anyone to be offered a marriage proposal with Johnny Seo, the son of an IT company’s CEO, you were far from flattered. Not because he was a bad guy, or so you reckoned he wasn’t, but for a different reason.

“I mean, Johnny Seo isn’t the worst option.”

“Well then, you should marry him yourself,” you joked playfully, nudging your best friend in the side, but Nayeon looked away as if the words had bit into her. You jerked away, pressing your lips into a stern line. “I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.”

“No, no. Don’t be!” She put her hands into the air in defeat, then smiled gently when she caught sight of something behind you. Or rather someone. “Ten is here. You should go talk to him,” she suggested kindly, and you automatically turned around, your lips raised into a lopsided smile when you caught sight of the boy with the darkest, deepest, most fascinating galaxies in his eyes.

There was something about Ten that was like a magnet, he kept attracting you, and you didn’t find the will in you to push him away anymore. Or more like you didn’t want to push him away. Like gravity, you kept circulating back to him, crashing and falling and feeling high.

“I’ll come back for the cake cutting,” you promised as you turned back to Nayeon, but before you could say more, she already shushed you, smiling at the sight of you two. You knew that she would be fine on her own, especially when you caught sight of your brother, Jungwoo, going in her way. Ever since you had become friends with Nayeon, Jungwoo had been treating her like a little sister, and despite Nayeon not coming from an especially rich family, she could always feel at home beside your family members. Even if you didn’t feel comfortable beside them, they treated her like their own family.

You walked past Ten with a knowing smile, oh so obviously checking him out in his black and white tuxedo before you made your way upstairs, right towards your room. In the maze of rooms and corridors, there were people scattered all over the mansion, but the further you got, the less scarce people were. That’s because the living rooms of the family members were separated from the rest of the celebration with all its glorious rooms, marked by a burgundy-coloured glass door. You let yourself inside the door before continuing your walk in another corridor, looking around for possible unwanted visitors, but found none. As expected, everyone was busy talking about business and forcing smiles in the ball room or the garden, no one came to this wing of the building.

You walked into your room, letting the door slightly ajar, sitting down onto your bed with one leg crossed over the other. You fixed your hair a bit while checking yourself out in the body-sized mirror, but other than that, you found no flaws in your appearance. The tight black dress with the lacy chest part you had chosen for the event was both elegant and chic. It was long enough not to scandalise your parents, but short enough to earn a cheeky smile from the one you wanted to impress that night.

As Ten made his way into your room and closed the door behind him, you knew that you managed to impress him just as much as you wanted. With that lazy, almost smug smirk of his that made him look like he knew exactly that you were his and his only, he was hella attractive, and the fire you felt inside yourself was nothing compared to the burning kiss of his when he leaned down to capture your lips.

“I hope you didn’t dress up like this just to mess with Johnny Seo. It would be a shame if he deserved a dress like that,” he teased, dropping his voice low before leaning in for another kiss. You grabbed onto his shirt to pull him closer, resting your other hand on his chest. You savoured the rare moment of having him all to yourself without having to act around the other rich people, or without having to fear that you would be caught. This time, you highly doubted that anyone would be searching for you, especially because Nayeon had reassured you that she would say that you were outside, getting some fresh air.

“Oh no, it’s just for you,” you whispered into his lips before pulling away and adding: “I’m not even sure Johnny is here tonight.”

“Was he not invited?” Ten quirked an eyebrow in question, his words coming out a bit hastily and impatiently. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

“I guess so, but my father hasn’t told me. He refused to talk to me since I told him that I don’t want to marry Johnny,” you admitted bitterly, and Ten caught onto the change in your behaviour. He reached to your lips, trailing its edges with his index finger, his warm touch sending a shiver down your spine. You just wanted to forget about this whole fiasco and kiss him breathless, but he was always so attentive, and he didn’t fail to notice your tenseness this time either.

“Is the situation that bad?” He asked quietly, gently, his eyes boring into yours. You felt your heart leap at the sight of his tenderness, reminding you yet again just how much you loved him. Even if it meant stealing kisses at university between lectures or walking away from others at such events to talk amongst yourself or texting each other late into night because at least there were no witnesses when you messaged each other.

Yet, nothing could be compared to having him so close (physically close), and you felt dizzy under his hungry yet loving stare, your head spinning with all the scenarios you two could be if given other circumstances. Having his hands cupping your cheeks, his heart beating under your touch, and his breathing mingling with yours made you feel almost drunk, and you knew that it wasn’t the alcohol.

“I don’t care. If my father doesn’t change his mind, I’ll play just as dirty as Doyoung. It’s not like he’s innocent,” you replied with a scoff, knowing all too well that daddy’s perfect little son Doyoung was nowhere near as perfect as your father thought him to be.

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous?”

“For the truth to come out?” You asked, looking away for a moment before looking back at Ten. “I think if I shake him just enough, he might refrain from forcing me to marry Johnny,” you let him know about your plan, and despite the clear concern in his dark orbs, you could see that he was secretly happy about you being so fierce. He wouldn’t have even started flirting with a fragile little girl, you reckoned.

Wanting to shift the atmosphere to a more pleasant one, you sat a bit closer to him, your upper bodies being impossibly close, leaving little to no air to breathe without your lips touching again. That’s exactly what you were aiming for, but as you were about to devour his lips, the door flew open.

“Huh, so Doyoung was right,” your father huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “You dare to reject the marriage proposal with Johnny Seo, only to play with this Thai kid?” He spat, fury painting his words, making them appear like well-directed punches. You felt the boy tense beside you as he let his hands fall into his lap, but you squeezed his hands nevertheless.

You needed all the courage in you to not shiver under your father’s disapproving glance, but hell no, you couldn’t just let him insult the boy because he wasn’t Korean. You knew how much your father despised foreign businessmen, and he had always told you to marry into a Korean family, but you couldn’t care less about the boy’s nationality. It was his heart that mattered.

“Oh, because it’s so bad of me to do so? Do you even know what Doyoung is doing? Have you just decided to turn a blind eye to his night motel visits?” You threw the questions at him like daggers, but much to your surprise, he dodged them as if he had a shield that could protect him from any kind of weapons.

“Yes, I have. He’s my first-born, and he will inherit the company one day, so he got his punishment for that, but I’m not willing to let you off the hook so easily.”

“What? You really knew about it, and turned a blind eye?” You shrieked, your hope of turning the tables for your own sake diminished to ashes. Your only hope was to reveal to your father that your brother was going to motels ever so frequently just to spend the night with the rival company’s daughter, Jeong Jaeyi. It would have made such a mess if it had come to light, but your father had decided to punish him without anyone else knowing?

“Are you really that stupid? Should I just let my first-born go down the drain for one mistake?” Your father exclaimed, and his raised voice only made you angrier.

“Because you should just let your daughter go down the drain for the same thing?”

“You’re a girl. The only way you can be of use to me is to wed you off. Doyoung will inherit the company, so he can have his fun with girls, but you must stop this before I physically force you to sign the marriage proposal yourself,” he warned you as he took more and more steps towards you. You felt Ten’s fingers slipping away from yours, the coldness he left behind leaving you heartbroken even without saying a word.

“Sir, you…”

“You stay out of it! Don’t ever come close to my daughter!” Your father turned to Ten who visibly shook by the venom in your father’s voice. You felt tears pricking your eyes and something scratching your throat, but the previous words still rang in your ears, making you go weak in the knees.

You’re a girl. The only way you can be of use to me is to wed you off.

As you rose from the bed to protest, you felt a rush of blood going to your head, and you almost fell if it weren’t for Ten.

“And you’re also weak. How do you expect to be of any use to me?” Your father continued, his eyes turning from threatening to pitiful. He ordered you to pull yourself together and escort Ten out because if he were to see him for the rest of the night, he wouldn’t go easy on either of you. Then, he turned around and left the room.

You were still shaking from the conversation with your father when you made your way back to the ballroom, joining a circle of chaebol girls who were oh so interested in your dress. You had done what your father had asked of you, and you had no idea how final your goodbye with Ten had been when you had watched him walk away from the front door. As you had made your way back to the guests, you had caught sight of Doyoung with an almost eerie smile, and you had felt the need to go up to him and shout his head off, but he had been talking to Jeong Jaehyun, the brother of Jaeyi - the girl he had been seeing. Huh, just what kind of a punishment your father had given him, you had wondered as you had tried to find familiar faces instead.

Soon, you managed to find your best friend by the French entrées, and Nayeon looked so worried seeing your expression that you almost felt like crying. However, the unshed tears were replaced by missed beats of your heart when someone shouted from the top of the stairs:

“Call an ambulance! Mr Kim is bleeding! Someone stabbed him!”

You shared a glance with your best friend before chaos erupted. People whispering, then frantically shouting. You saw your mother rushing up the stairs and your brothers exchanging glances with you. You even saw how Jeong Jaehyun appeared flabbergasted before joining the group of people who were exiting the scene. You, on the other hand, had no idea what to do, so you just stood there, frozen, letting the people who pushed past you toss you around as if you had been nothing but a mere puppet.

That’s how your father’s birthday party turned into a murder scene, and that’s how you found yourself at the police station as a possible suspect.

You were suspected of murdering your father after you had been heard quarrelling with him lately over the marriage proposal to Johnny Seo. Doyoung had even mentioned that he had heard your conversation with your father just before he had been stabbed, and now, detective Moon was trying to use that against you.

“I’m telling you, I haven’t killed him!”

The words felt like a mantra at this point as you had been repeating them all too frequently ever since you had been called in for the interrogation. Since it was going to take some time to take everyone’s testimony (around a hundred guests plus the staff who were working during the event), they started with the ones who had the most connection to the one who had been murdered (and who could know about possible enemies), meaning that your family had been called in on the night of the birthday party that had ended up in blood and chaos. Someone had stabbed your father in the stomach judging by the depth of the cut, but they hadn’t managed to find any bloody item they might have stabbed him with.

“Miss Kim, please, calm down!” Detective Moon pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. What could you do though? Just because your brother was trying to throw dirt on you, it didn’t mean that you had killed your father! It felt unfair, to be questioned as if you had really done something so horrendous, and it felt unfair to be called out for not wanting to marry a man you didn’t know and for telling that to your father face-to-face. Huh, as if Doyoung hadn’t caused you enough trouble, he just had to use his witness card against you.

“How can I calm down when you suspect me of killing my own father?” You bellowed frantically, yet leaned back into the uncomfortable metal chair when the man shot you a glance.

“We are trying to get to the bottom of this murder case, so please, cooperate with us, so we can gather enough evidence.”

Evidence as in telling him the last time you had seen your father, the last time you had talked to him (and why you had talked to him), and if it hadn’t been enough that Doyoung had mentioned your argument with your father about half an hour before the announcement of his death, he had also spilled the beans about you and Ten.

“Your brother, Mr Kim Doyoung, says that you have a secret relationship with the son of a Thai businessman, and you have rejected a marriage proposal to be together with him, and that’s why you resent your father? Is it true?” Mr Moon asked sternly as he was typing on the laptop in front of him, occasionally looking up to see your reaction. He had his partner, Mr Lee, who observed your every reaction anyway and his stare gave you the creeps even though you knew that your testimony was recorded anyways, so you had more eyes on yourself than you could actually see.

“It… it is, but that doesn’t mean that I would kill him. I wouldn’t have cared even if he had disowned me, but I would have never wanted to kill him. I’ve just wanted to be understood,” you explained honestly, in detail, so that they would know that you took their question seriously, but they didn’t stop there.

“Is it true that you have been on bad terms with your father, even quarrelling with him lately?”

With a sigh, you had to admit your defeat, so you were about to answer when the detective cut you off:

“It is but-”

“You didn’t kill him, right,” he noted, his voice and face lacking any kind of emotion, but it was better this way. At least he wasn’t pitying you or looking down on you after what he had heard. Though maybe loving a Thai businessman’s son and not wanting to marry someone else didn’t seem that outrageous to him as other crimes people had committed. But then again, that just meant that you might have been more suspicious; because when love was involved, people could be capable of anything.

More typing, the annoying ticking of the clock on the wall. You felt like your heart could explode any minute, and your brain was foggy, almost numb from all that had happened, and all that had followed. Yet, you tried your best to appear stronger than you felt because that was the last thing you could do. For yourself.

So you kept your eyes on detective Moon who looked up from the laptop a few seconds later and asked:

“Is there anyone you suspect who might have wanted him dead?”

Finally, the question you had been waiting for. Now it was your turn to raise suspicions regarding Doyoung - the first-born who might inherit the company one day, and now with your father out of the picture, he would inherit it very soon, probably after an emergency meeting of the stakeholders. He had also been slipping into bad habits that weren’t supported by your father, and going to the motel with Jeong Jaeyi was just the tip of the iceberg. He had also been going to casinos and caught smoking, and your father had also mentioned punishing him for that, so they had not been on good terms recently either.

Then there was Jungwoo who had always been rebelling because he wasn’t the first-born, yet he had still been forced to work for the company because he was a male heir. He had never wanted this life, he had even voiced it out, threatening to leave the whole family behind only to have his money withdrawn by your father not too long ago, so he was stuck with the family, money tying him to your father.

You didn’t suspect your mother since she had been given everything she had wanted, and she had seemed to be on good terms with your father. Other relatives might have envied your father, but you didn’t know them well to suspect anyone, plus you didn’t remember any of your cousins showing up, only your aunt and your mother’s sister’s family.

You also mentioned Jeong Jaehyun whose little sister Doyoung had been seeing, and who had also attended the party. His family’s company would benefit the most from your father’s death since the sudden news would definitely shake the trade enough to make the stock prices crash, and might even give the no. 1 position in the South Korean IT sector back to their company after your father’s business had taken over it 5 years ago. Plus, he could have avenged your father for looking down on their family, especially Jaeyi who had been sleeping with his first-born.

The detective asked about any staff members that might have something against your father or co-workers and subordinates, but you couldn’t think of any, so you concluded briefly what you thought. However, your stomach dropped and churned with nausea when detective Moon posed a question that felt like a dagger digging deep into your flesh:

“What about your boyfriend? Haven’t you been planning on avenging your father for not letting you be with him? You were both present at the party, and according to the front door’s camera, he was seen leaving the mansion not long before your father was announced to be stabbed.”

You felt anger slowly boiling inside of you, and it burst into one big flame of defence, hurt and disappointment when you finally had the chance to speak up.

“What? No way! He would never do that! He left immediately when my father told him not to come close to me,” you defended Ten, almost rising from your seat, but managed to make yourself stay with your nails digging deep into your palms instead. It helped to focus on the pain in your skin instead of the pain in your heart (so hollow, so poisonous), but you could almost hear what the police officers were thinking:

She’s blinded by love. She can’t see straight.

While it might have been true, you could never, not even in your wildest dreams, dare to assume that Ten would be capable of killing a man. You might not have known him for long - half a year, to be exact -, but he had seemed nothing but sincere all along. A rare gem in the big charade of fake glitter, artificial smiles and hidden intentions. In this world where you felt like trust was as scarce as empathy while back-stabbing and two-faced people were everywhere, you had never doubted him and his love for you.

However, when the detective asked if you had any proof to back up what you had said, you knew you had nothing. You didn’t have CCTV cameras inside the house, only by the front door and the back garden, but even the latter one hadn’t been changed, so it didn’t work for some time now. Otherwise, how else could you have backed up your claims? You hadn’t recorded your conversation with your father for God’s sake!

You were asked a few more questions, but everything seemed like a blur by the end of it, and you were so weary that you nearly collapsed onto a chair in the corridor when you finished. Nayeon immediately showed up by your side with a cup of coffee, and you took it with a thankful albeit exhausted smile, inquiring when she would be called in.

“They said that I would need to come by only tomorrow because it already takes longer than they expected,” she explained, and you nodded, glad that she wouldn’t need to stay here for the night. They probably didn’t have much suspicion about her anyways, but she could back up your claims - or at least the ones she knew as well such as Doyoung’s behaviour lately.

“Thank you for staying, but you can go home now.” you suggested gently, hoping that she would take the time to rest after what had happened. She had been close to your family ever since you had become best friends, and it sometimes seemed like your family loved her more than they loved you - taking the fact into consideration that she had always been smarter than you, thus she had even helped you prepare for your CSATs. Her tutoring sessions had seemed more useful than any private tutor’s could, maybe that’s why your parents had decided that she would be more useful than harmful - letting you invite her to fancy parties and letting you actually become friends with her. She was your only real friend and the only one who wasn’t a chaebol.

So for her to witness everything today and to be dragged into this mess made you feel guilty, guiltier than you would have liked to admit. Especially because you had asked her to lie for you because of Ten.

“Will you be alright? With you suspecting your brothers, would it be safe to stay with them at home?” Nayeon inquired instead of worrying about herself. You were rendered speechless for a moment, letting the words fall off your tongue like a sin:

“I… I haven’t thought of that,” you confessed, suddenly aware of the possibility of staying under the same roof as the murderer of your father. Since no solid proof had been found and the deadly weapon hadn’t been discovered either, they couldn’t keep anyone at the police station without only suspicions lacking any solid proof. Though there were probably still more police officers at the crime scene - at your mansion - for you to enter freely.

However, before you could think it through or ask your mother who sat a bit further from you with her head in her hands, Jungwoo pacing in front of her waiting for his turn and Doyoung sitting even further, your phone beeped, signalling a message. You reached into your purse, seeing a message from Ten, asking if you were alright.

“I need to make a quick call,” you announced to your best friend who gave you a worried albeit disappointed smile as she nodded, turning to examine your family members currently in shambles instead of keeping her eyes on you. Then, when she looked back at you, you caught worry flashing across her eyes, but before you could ask anything, she bobbed her head and left the scene as you had advised her to do so. Still, her expression lingered a bit in front of your eyes, and you started wondering what it could be about. Was she afraid of you now? Of your family? Of maybe… Ten? You couldn’t tell, yet there was no use pondering over it because you knew Nayeon would tell you if something was bothering her. She had always done so.

Hence, you rose from your seat to walk a bit further from anyone else because the last thing you wanted was to gain your family members’ attention by talking to Ten. You could tell by the icy stare of theirs and that suspicion in their eyes that could cut through metal that they suspected the boy just as well. Honestly, you felt like going against them just because of their silent treatment, but you didn’t know anymore.

What you knew though was that you wanted to hear Ten’s voice, and through the phone, he couldn’t hurt you in any way.

“Hey! Are you okay? Did you get hurt? What happened?”

Ten’s voice was as concerned as it could be; you had never really given him a chance to be so worried about you, but the way fear and affection mixed in his tone, you wondered if he could have really been the murderer.

“I’m fine. I really am. I’ve just finished giving my testimony, but my family is a mess,” you sighed out, sparing a short-lived glance in the direction of your family members. Doyoung just managed to catch your gaze, and cruelly slowly, his lips raised into a sly smile. It gave you the creeps, so you decided to turn back to face a dirtywhite wall instead. “It seems everyone is suspecting the other and… they are suspecting you, too,” you confessed, letting the weight of your words weigh down on his shoulders too, not just yours. Not that it helped, especially with that clear hurt in his voice, but you wanted to be honest. Maybe to test out his reaction. Maybe not. Who knew at this point?

“Me? But I wasn’t even there after your father had asked me to leave.”

“I know. I’ve told them the same thing, but since I have no proof, they don’t believe me,” you continued, letting your words pour like rain. You felt like you were standing in a thunderstorm, waiting for the next one to tear down the sky and shake the ground, your heart in your throat as the seconds passed by. Anxiously, you bit into your lower lip. “Haven’t you been called in?”

“Yeah, I’ve been called in for tomorrow morning, but I thought it’s just because I was at the party,” he replied instantly, and you wondered whether he was so impatient to answer (not even stuttering over his words) because he had practised it over in his head.

Because he had been willing to kill for you, and he had done so.

“Well, Doyoung spilled everything. About our quarrel before my father…” You let the thunder strike, sending cold shivers down your spine. Your voice trailed off by the end, finding no will in you to actually say the words out loud. Was killed. Was murdered. By someone who had been there at the party. It could have been anyone.

“Are they still going through your house?” Ten changed the subject, probably to ease your nerves. You hummed, not knowing either how much it would take for the detectives to go through every room and examine everything, taking fingerprints and all that. “Do you want to stay with me for the night?”

The question shouldn’t have bothered you. It should have mended your heart that was slowly falling apart like a glass bead that slowly breaks after it gives in to the pressure of the cracks. On the other hand, you had never felt so dizzy, so uncertain, so lost… As if the ground had splitted under you, and you found yourself falling into a bottomless pit.

“You don’t suspect me, right?” He asked tentatively as you were trying to gulp down the nervous knot in your throat. He was probably just as wrongly accused as you had been. You had even seen him leave the mansion, he couldn’t have had the time to come back and kill your father. He would have never been able to do so anyways. He had too much of a kind heart for that.

“No, I don’t! I really don’t!”

“Then, I’ll come pick you up,” he offered gently before asking if you needed anything else before he would come pick you up. Maybe it was a good idea to be with him for the night, maybe he would need your presence after getting to know that he was suspected just as well even if there was no proof against him, maybe it was the safest option anyways.

Though the look in your family members’ eyes said otherwise as you were leaving the police station, and you wondered if you were walking straight into a murderer’s arms.

Since you had been taken to the police station in a police car, you wouldn’t have had a chance to go home with your own car, so Ten picking you up was a reasonable choice anyways. Plus, seeing him made you feel relieved, him alive and well, his strong arms embracing you the moment he had walked up to you, whispering soothing words into your ears before retreating back and holding the door for you to prompt you to get into his car.

You hadn’t hesitated, you hadn’t hesitated to inquire about his well-being either while you were going to his own house, you hadn’t hesitated to step inside and make yourself feel at home, but as he was standing behind the kitchen counter with a knife in his hand, cutting up some fruit for you because he had insisted that you needed to eat something since you hadn’t been able to for the past half a day, something in you twisted.

He caught you staring at his hands, and he let the knife fall onto the cutting board, turning around, so that his body would face yours. You were leaning against the other side of the kitchen island, too restless to sit still after sitting through the past few hours, scenarios rushing through your head every other second, questions that you had been keeping down like the need to throw up after eating something bad.

“Do you still doubt me?” Ten asked straightforwardly, and his gaze was more hurt than threatening, but your heart still acted as if you had been on a carousel, going faster and faster until you could feel the wind in your face and feel the thrill, the excitement and the fear.

“No. I just…” You started, trying to find the right words to say, yet you found a dead end, your words dying on the tip of your tongue. Ten’s shoulders hunched, his lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked away, then back at you. Something hardened in his stare, and you knew his coldness was directed at you. The one who should have trusted him the most.

“Just think about it! Why would I hurt you if I killed your father?”

You knew the question was theoretical (it had to be), but still, you couldn’t help your numb hands from shaking a bit when the words left his lips. As if it was so easy for him to say something like killing someone. As if it was an everyday thing for him. He was the forbidden fruit you shouldn’t have wanted for yourself, so could it be that he was the one poisoning you from the inside, searing into your veins until you had finally trusted him, and that’s when he had decided to betray you? Would he have been able to kill for you?

Or… you were just overreacting, and that’s what you had been seeing into his words when it was far from the truth. So far.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you mumbled shakily before breaking down, sinking down onto the floor with tears in your eyes, hugging your legs to your chest and starting to rock yourself back and forth in hopes of calming your nerves. You swore that you were going crazy, doubting someone who had opened up to you, shared their fears and doubts with you, dreamt a dream with you, held you close when all you had wanted was to push people away, stayed with you despite the difficulties, and loved you with all his heart, his soul and his body. You had never felt that anyone could have understood you better than he had done so. Sure, you had your best friend, but Nayeon didn’t come from a rich family, she wasn’t tied to chaebol kid duties and the cage such a life came with. Though she had her own misery anyways with a runaway father and a dead mother.

“Hey…” Ten croaked out at the sight of you falling apart, and walked closer to you, crouching down to be at eye-level with you. He reached out for your hands, slowly peeling your fingers from around your shins, and reaching to tuck your locks behind your ear that were falling into your face, covering your tears. “I’m sorry to make you feel worse. I’ve just… I’ve just thought that at least you would trust me,” he admitted bitterly, and when you looked up at him, you could see sincerity shining in his orbs. How could you have doubted him for a second?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you as he leaned forward to kiss your tears away. You felt like melting away under his warm, gentle touch. You felt like he was slowly putting back the pieces you had fallen into with each loving stroke along your arms, with each squeeze of your hand and with each kiss you two shared.

After a while, you didn’t know who wanted the other more, who needed the other’s love more desperately than the other because you were both in the dark, you were both in deep in this story, and your love had never seemed so ill-fated before. Now everyone knew what you had been doing, but you didn’t want to give them the chance to see you doubting each other. So that night as you shared kisses through tears, you decided that you would trust him if no proof came to light to claim that he was a murderer.

For that night at least, you could fall asleep in his loving, protective arms, not searching for proof to prove his innocence.

The next morning, you woke to a knock on the door. You could barely rub the sleep out of your eyes when the first wave of shock arrived: the sudden visitors being police officers. Why would they have come directly to Ten’s flat so early in the morning?

“Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul?” One of them asked, voice stern and neutral like always.

“Yes, that would be me,” Ten confirmed although you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. You looked over your shoulder, slowly rising from the couch, but you stopped dead in your tracks when the other police officer announced:

“You are under arrest for the murder of Kim Dohwan.”

Even though you had had your doubts, the words felt foreign today. After yesterday evening, you had managed to reassure yourself that if anyone, the boy wouldn’t have anything to do with your father’s death. Not only because he was one of the kindest souls you had ever met, but also because he would have not been able to choose violence, especially after his brother had been a victim of a terrorist attack in the past.

So to hear the police officer's words felt like a wave of shock, numbing your senses and freezing your whole body.

“What? No! I didn’t kill him. What are you talking about?” Ten protested immediately, his voice rising in panic. Even though he was protesting, he still let the police officers put him in handcuffs as they explained the reason behind their sudden visit.

“There is a witness who saw you re-entering the house from the back door, then going into Mr Kim’s room and coming out alone just before Mr Kim was announced to be dead.”

Your feet found their strength at this moment, and you bolted forward, appearing behind the handcuffed Ten in a matter of seconds. The police officers seemed taken aback for a moment, but they didn’t say a word. As if they hadn’t even thought of accusing you. Interesting after what had happened yesterday in the interrogation room.

“What? No! That can’t be! He wouldn’t even have had enough time to do something like that. I was the last person who talked to him, and I was the one who escorted him out, so there’s no way he would have been able to do something like that in such a short span of time,” you insisted, your hands balled into fists by your side as you were trying to defend the boy. “Who would say something so stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask, already having a feeling that it would be one of your family members trying to throw some dirt on you after no proof was found that could lead to the actual murderer.

On the other hand, when the police officers didn’t mention your family members, you felt like you were swept off of your feet, the air punched out of your lungs.

“It was Miss Park Nayeon. She thought that wasn’t a useful piece of information, and that your boyfriend wouldn’t be capable of such a thing, but then she said she feared your safety, Miss Kim.”

The more words were thrown at you, the more you bled. They were daggers aimed at your heart, your heart at a war with your brain, and it seemed like neither part could win. It was a losing game from the beginning. It meant that you had to choose whether you believed your best friend of 8 years or the boy you loved with all your heart, and who understood you the most. One of them was lying. Or worse: both of them. Maybe Nayeon was blackmailed, maybe Ten was just afraid to tell you that he had gone back inside the house, but hadn’t met your father, maybe your family members had been behind it all along…

Too many maybes and no proof, still no goddamn proof which meant that the police officers had the right to arrest him because he had been claimed to be the last person to see your father, and if no further proof were to be revealed, he would be released in 72 hours anyways. Or at least, it was something along the lines the police officers were telling you, but the rest of the morning was a blur with you going after them to the police station with a taxi, fervently calling your best friend to ask her about her statement, but to no avail. She didn’t pick up. The only person you met at the police station was none other than Doyoung, and upon seeing him, you had this eerie feeling that he knew more than he had shown. Why else would he be smiling so cryptically?

“Well, well, well, it looks like someone’s boyfriend is not so innocent after all,” he mused out loud, loud enough for you to hear his words clearly. After everything that had happened in the past not even 24 hours, you had no patience for his groundless arrogance.

So you halted in front of him, arms laced in front of your chest as you were about to confront your oldest brother.

“Shut up, Doyoung! There’s no proof that he went back to the house and met up with my father,” you spat out, fighting with the only weapons you had left: words. On the other hand, Doyoung was a businessman, a clever one on top of that, and he knew very well how to negotiate and how to debate someone.

“So you say that you don’t believe your best friend?” He quirked an eyebrow, almost amused, but then he pressed his lips into a thin line. He gave you a dubious look before he continued. “Then again, why would you?”

Doyoung liked talking in riddles, and both you and Jungwoo hated that ever since you had been young. Doyoung had always made it seem like he knew something you hadn’t, thus he had wanted you to respect him as an older brother, but neither you, nor Jungwoo had ever given him the satisfaction to appear any more superior than he could have been due to his age. Respect was earned, not forced, or at least you thought so.

However, this time, you didn’t care. You had been thrown into doubt time and time again ever since your father had been murdered, and it definitely didn’t help either that it took some time for the forensic team to analyse the fingertips in your father’s room and on his body in hopes of narrowing down the list of suspects. The murderer might have been out there, already preparing for another crime while you were sitting around, waiting for something to happen. Clearly, whoever the murderer had been, they knew your mansion very well, they probably knew that the back door CCTV didn’t work, and they knew exactly where to find your father and how to hide traces. They might have even prepared for the murder in advance.

There were so many questions unanswered that you even gave your brother the chance to see you trust him for once. Or at least, to listen to him, so that you could decide whether you wanted to trust him or not.

“What do you mean?”

After your question, Doyoung took a step closer to you. As he was towering over you with his built, you gulped. There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint, but you kept the eye-contact anyways.

“Don’t you see the way she’s looking at you? As if she’s jealous. As if she wished she could have your life,” he said and took his time delivering each word as if they were ticking bombs, ready to explode. They did feel like it for you would have never dared to doubt your best friend. Why would you? You knew very well that she wouldn’t have wished for your life. Maybe for the wealth because her mother had raised her alone after her father had run away, but not the excessive amount of pressure and chaebol duties.

However, you knew deep down that it was either her lying or Ten doing so. You didn’t know which one was worse.

“You’re imagining things,” you insisted still, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shivering.

“Oh, am I?” He elevated his eyebrow in a comical way, his lips slowly turning upwards. You felt the need to punch him in the face because you couldn’t believe that he could be enjoying this situation. No matter how much you despised your father, he had still been murdered mercilessly, and the murderer was still on the run. Or currently arrested if your best friend proved to be telling the truth.

However, you were left frozen in place when Doyoung took another step closer to you, grabbed your wrist and looked you in the eye, his facial expression cold as ice.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.”

His words lingered even after he had left you alone in the corridor, wondering just yet again who to believe and who to fear.

After Doyoung had left for the company’s emergency meeting, you were left alone, anxiously sitting in the corridor, waiting for the detectives to be over with the interrogation with Ten. You didn’t know what you hoped for anyways; that you could see him again? That you could see for yourself that he wasn’t lying? That he admitted that he had been lying, and he had been the one who had murdered your father?

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought. Could he have been that good of an actor that he had deceived everyone, even you the night before? Could he have had an ulterior motive, and you had been just too blind to see it? After all, you hadn’t known him for as long as you had known your best friend, and no matter how much you loved him, Nayeon could have been telling the truth. Yet, what Doyoung had just told you lingered, it lingered like a shadow that followed you everywhere, and it fought its way into your brain, forcing you to actually think about the possibility of Nayeon being the one who had lied.

All these possibilities made your head and heart ache, all this doubt inside you was slowly eating you up alive, poisoning your memories that kept repeating in your head. Where had the signs been? Where had the red flags been in the months and years behind you? Nayeon was different from you, that was true, and she had been the one to approach you back in the days, but why would she had murdered your father who had treated her almost like a family member? You couldn’t have made up a reasonable explanation, nor could you have done so with Ten who would have never been able to kill anyone. The day before had been the first time he had met your father face-to-face anyways, so could he have been that impulsive? Could he have really killed for you, for your love?

Or maybe it was someone else, and Nayeon had merely mistaken him, and there was someone else behind it, someone who might be enjoying this chaos from afar.

No matter what, lacking anything to do on this Sunday morning, you stayed there in the corridor, still in Ten’s oversized shirt and pants he had given you the night before, and you kept calling Nayeon. You couldn’t reach her for about an hour, so when she actually picked up, you almost didn’t believe that she did. Especially because she was sobbing on the other side of the phone.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have told you beforehand, I’ve just…” Nayeon admitted immediately, her voice trailing off as another wave of sobs erupted from her. “I’ve just… I wouldn’t have assumed that Ten could have done it.”

At this point, you felt like you went numb at the sounds of her crying. You felt so detached from reality that you couldn’t feel sympathy anymore. Someone was playing with you, with your family, with the detectives, and you weren’t having any of it even if your best friend was telling the truth.

“Are you sure you’ve seen him right? Couldn’t you have mistaken him for someone else?” You reasoned, asking the question you had been meaning to ask if you had managed to reach her. Her sobs stopped as she exclaimed:

“Are you doubting me? I’m your best friend!” There was panic in her voice, something that seemed so abrupt, so out of place, especially compared to her miserable crying from a few seconds ago. You lost all patience as well, raising your voice as you counter-attacked her, feeling fury and desperation take hold of you.

“Why? What do you expect me to do? It’s either you who’s lying or Ten, and I don’t even know which one is worse. I’m doubting everyone and everything around myself, but could you blame me? My father was murdered yesterday!”

“Can’t you just believe me? Is it so hard after what we’ve been through? You know Ten for less than a year!” Nayeon kept accusing you, and you huffed, something in you boiling. There was some deep, some dark mass inside of you that was slowly coming together, growing and growing, and you didn’t know how to tone it down anymore; it was doubt towards your best friend, and how she was reacting only added to the fire. It just didn’t feel right. She should have told you the day before if she had been that afraid for you.

But still… why would she have killed your father? Or who could be behind this shitshow, making everyone doubt the other and telling lies? Maybe she was blackmailed? Maybe Ten was actually the killer?

Gosh, your head was splitting, you didn’t know how much more you could put up with. It was already too much, the endless cycle of doubting one person and then another exhausting you like nothing ever before.

“Look, I don’t want to argue,” Nayeon announced wearily as her breathing evened, and you felt your frustration dissolve a bit as well. “Can we meet up? We could talk about it in a calmer manner,” she suggested and you found yourself agreeing even before you could think about what you could be doing. You were either going to meet your saviour or a devil in disguise. It was 50-50.

You were just about to leave for your best friend’s flat when you met Johnny Seo in the hallway, and catching his gaze, you furrowed your eyebrows in question. He came up to you, panting as if he had been running here, and put his hands on your shoulders. It was almost like he was trying to protect you, but you didn’t know what for because you had never been close, yet you kept yourself back from shrugging off his hands when he finally spoke up:

“I’ve got footage about the back door!” He blurted out seriously, and you felt your lips parting at his words. “I have a camera in my car because it’s a pretty expensive car, and I don’t want anything to happen to it, so it recorded the whole period of the party yesterday because I was parked not far from the back door. I still have the footage from it because it stores 72 hours,” he explained, then went on to add that the detective on the site had told him that any footage could be useful since the house didn’t seem to have CCTVs inside, only a camera by the front door. Just as he had gotten inside his car that day, had he realised that his car’s camera could be useful.

It didn’t take long for a police officer who worked on the case to come and get Johnny’s camera, and while you were waiting for the results - to prove that Ten entered or didn’t enter the house from the back door -, you were impatiently walking up and down in the corridor, chewing on your lower lip. Johnny tried to initiate a conversation with you while he was staying to see if he needed to give a testimony as well or not, but you were more nervous than you would have liked to admit, and your answers were cut rather short. Whilst waiting, you also sent a hasty text to Nayeon, telling her that you need to answer some more questions, so you would arrive later than intended. She didn’t need to know that it wasn’t true.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before detective Moon came out of a room, his lips pressed into a thin line when he came up to you and Johnny.

“Miss Kim, it seems that Miss Park has lied. Your boyfriend hasn’t entered the house from the back door which means that she couldn’t have seen him in your father’s room either. Since this was the reason we kept him here as a suspect, we will release him, but he has to be cooperative in the future. And about Miss Park…” The detective’s voice trailed off, the shift in this game of suspects and innocents making your stomach drop. Now it seemed that your best friend was a suspect or at least someone who firmly believed something that hadn’t happened. When had it came to this?

“Has she ever seemed suspicious? Have you ever noticed a tension between her and your father?” He continued, eyes alert and questioning. You shook your head, telling him that your father had seemed to treat her as almost a family member, someone close to him, so they had never seemed to not get along well. “I’m afraid we can’t arrest her over a lie, but we will continue on with her interrogation as expected. We will call her in right now,” he let you know, and you nodded, too confused to even begin to think about going against his words. You were already so tired of this; people making you question their intentions, then getting mad at you for suspecting them… It was just too much.

So you let the events happen; Ten being released and crushing you into a hug, suggesting to go somewhere to have breakfast together. You knew that you couldn’t wait forever to get to the bottom of this mystery, so you gave in, thankful for his considerate action. Johnny promised that he would keep you updated though because he was being questioned while your best friend was on her way.

Or well, she was supposed to.

Ten took you to a brunch place downtown, and the last person you expected to see there was your best friend.

“You forgot about our talk,” Nayeon remarked rather bitterly when you walked to your table, and you couldn’t help but exchange a suspicious glance with Ten. How could she have known that you were there?

“Shouldn’t you be supposed to be at the police station?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your voice even though it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your cool when your best friend let out a snicker. Something so mundane as a snicker had never come from your friend, not the elegant, always obedient Park Nayeon.

“What I’m about to tell you is more important,” she announced before taking a seat at your table. Ten rose from his seat to stop her, but he stopped dead in his action when your best friend continued. “Sister.”

Your blood froze in your veins. Clearly, she wasn’t in her right mind. Why would she come to the place where you were with Ten, then strike up a conversation in a public place and call you sister? You supposed that she wouldn’t do anything at a public place like this, nothing that would gather too much attention. Or maybe that’s exactly why she was there? Everything was so puzzling, no wonder you were rendered speechless.

“Yeah, I was pretty dumbfounded, too. Turns out that your father has never been a good person, especially not to his first daughter,” she broke the silence instead of you, looking down at her intertwined fingers before looking up at you to catch your perplexed gaze upon the implication. First daughter. Nayeon was two months older than you. Which meant that if she was telling the truth, she was your father’s first daughter. “Turns out that the runaway father of mine was very much alive, my mother just forgot to mention that until she was on her deathbed. She told me when I visited her at the hospital before she died. After that, it was all too easy to become friends with you, and to see it for myself.”

The more she talked, the more unfamiliar she seemed. That anger she had been bottling up, those hardened features of hers, that rigidity about her… It was a completely different person. Not your best friend. Or maybe it was who she had been all along. You merely had been too blind to see it.

Or she merely had been too good of an actress.

“And turns out that he didn’t want to accept me as his daughter even though I was so much better than you. So much smarter, so much more obedient, so much more willing to live up to the family now. So I killed him,” she shrugged as if it was nothing, but you literally froze in place, unable to process everything. Your heart was beating so fast against your ribcage that you didn’t hear anything else properly, and you wondered if you heard it right when she continued. “And I’m going to do the same to the one who took my place.”

It was so wrong of you to doubt her intentions until the very last minute because that hesitation of yours was enough for your best friend to pull a knife out of her pocket and to stab it into your stomach.

Your vision went blurry. You looked down at the blood oozing out of the cut, mirroring the one on your father’s body, and the thought crossed your mind if he had felt just as betrayed as you did so in that moment. Despite the cacophony around you, your world went quiet, your body becoming more and more weightless as you fell to the ground, your fingers shakily hovering above the bloody pool. So much blood. So much burgundy. Such warmth.

And such pain, you could scream if you hadn’t been so weak, so defeated, so striked. Instead, your body went numb, the edges of your vision narrowing as you faintly heard Ten calling your name, and the rush of regret was enough to send you to the ground immediately, a teardrop rolling down your cheeks as your eyes shut closed.

“What was your motif for murdering Mr Kim?”

“He was my father who left my mother and me behind when he got to know that she was pregnant. Because it’s that easy to throw someone away when you’ve been the one who slept with a woman who might have been pretty but lacking any wealth? Huh, he was such a scumbag.

My mother always told me that my father had run away, and I believed her. Then, when she was involved in a car accident and the doctors were fighting for her life, she wanted to see me, and called me into her ward. There, she told me who my father was. She died the next morning, her organs giving up the fight. But I had a plan: to avenge my father for what he did, so I began looking up where he was, what he was doing, and that’s when I came across his children. Three of them, one girl. It was so easy to get info on them since they are wealthy, and soon, I got to know where Y/n was studying, and managed to be accepted at the same high school because I’ve always had good grades. My plan was to get close to her, and to see how she was doing and how her father was doing.”

“Miss Kim has said that she has never sensed any tension between you two. How come you have not made any moves before?”

“Because I was careful, waiting for the right time. Also, I was flattered that they asked me to be Y/n’s tutor. I felt so good just thinking that I was smarter than their precious, accepted child. At times, I did feel bad for her, but no one can have everything, right? So I befriended her, enjoying the luxury they showered me in as I was helping her to prepare for her CSATs, and soon, it did feel like I became a part of their family. I became comfortable with that. They paid me enough money for the tutoring to get by well, and I’ve enjoyed my new life.”

“So why did you decide to murder your father that exact night?”

“Oh that? It’s because Y/n was complaining that she had to marry Johnny Seo while she was in love with Ten, and I got fed up with her complaints. So I told her father where his daughter and the boy went, and I’ve thought that it would be enough for him to disown her, so that I could reveal my secret and take her place. But when I went into my father’s room with a tray of food to please and told him the truth, he didn’t want to change his mind. He believed me after I told him who my mother was, but he kept saying that I was still not his daughter. He told me that I would never be able to be a real Kim and not just because I had my mother’s family name. He also said that I could never be like Y/n.

I got angry. That shallow-minded, no good girl who lied to her father and was with another guy when all she had to do was to marry someone for her family’s sake was more accepted than me? So I grabbed the knife from the tray I brought him and stabbed him while he was sitting on a chair. I didn’t even leave a fingerprint on him, he already fell after just a stab. I picked up the knife, hid it in my purse, and washed my hands. Since no one would have suspected me, I could actually throw my whole purse into the bin in the kitchen and not be questioned.”

“And so you tried to put the blame on Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul because he seemed like a likely suspect, and you wouldn’t have thought that there would be footage to go against your claim regarding the back door? I assume you knew that the back door’s CCTV was broken.”

“Of course I knew. I was like family, they told me everything. And yes, that’s right. If it hadn’t been for my plan falling through because of Johnny Seo’s car footage, I would have been able to kill Y/n in my own flat as I was telling her my story. Too bad it had to be in public, so I had to cut my story short because I was afraid Ten would call the cops on me.”

“How did you know Miss Kim would be at that place with her boyfriend?”

“Oh, I’ve long put a tracking app on her phone. I was just waiting for the right time to use it against her.”

“Why did you have to murder them? Didn’t you think money or a nice place to live in would be enough after they have showered you with luxuries as you have mentioned?

“Someone like you wouldn’t understand. The family you’re from determines everything. I would have been doomed if it had been for only my mother because she was poor. But look at me! I was smarter than that stupid girl who couldn’t see through my lies for years, and who only got into university because of me. I’ve long deserved my place in the family, but no… It’s because I didn’t grow up with them, I couldn’t be seen as their family. Those fucking rich people.”

“I think we’ve heard enough… Miss Park, you’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Dohwan and the attempted murder of Kim Y/n. Anything you’ve said during the interrogation can be recited during your court hearing.”

“Huh, so that bitch is still alive? How unfortunate…”

Some stories are written in burgundy blood-stained ink. Some stories are about betrayal and doubt. Some stories are about the hunger for fame, power and acceptance. Some stories do not have happy endings, and you were sure that yours couldn’t end in one the moment you were born. However, you would have never thought that there was someone else who thought the same when she got to know whose daughter she was. Or maybe she fell from so high because she assumed that she could have her happy ending. Which would eventually mean that you needed to be out of the way.

Though for now, even if the loss of blood left you unconscious on the brunch place’s floor and you needed to be resuscitated while you were being transferred to the hospital, you were alive. In a lot of pain, that was for certain, but you were alive, holding Ten’s hands even while you were sleeping, holding on for dear life.

You had to hold on. Because even if Nayeon was put behind bars, the best revenge you could get on her was to live well, to move on. To thrive and to wear the Kim name proudly. After everything that had happened, no one would have deserved the title more than you did.

#nct x reader #wayv x reader #ten x reader #nct x you #wayv x you #ten x you #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #ten scenarios #nct angst #wayv angst #ten angst #nct ten

88 notes · View notes

milkiane · 4 years ago

Note

oh !!! maybe a james blurb with “you’re my regret” as a dialogue prompt? <3

you’re my regret

pairings: james potter x reader

warnings: angst :-)

word count: 785

“i did it, she said yes!” james burst into remus’ prefect room where you and the boys were lounging in.

“who said yes?” sirius asked, making you look up from braiding his hair.

“lily!” james grinned, “‘ve got a date to hogsmeade this weekend,”

your heart broke, your hands froze mid-braid. both sirius and remus shared glances before looking at you with sympathy, but you’re having none of that.

as much as it hurts, you plastered on a fake smile as you joked, “you sure you aren’t making that up this time?”

james scoffed, flopping on remus’ double bed with a lovesick smile, “bugger off, y/n,”

the boys knew your feelings for the bloke, but they’re still his friends so they congratulated him with impressed and proud looks despite feeling bad for you.

you just finished tying off sirius’ dutch braids when james dragged you up your feet, “c’mon, it’s my y/n time now,”

you tried to turn down his offer, wanting to spend some time alone for a moment but he didn’t listen, proceeding to pull you by your hand.

when the both of you arrived at your usual spot in the gardens, you sighed, laying down beside him on the prickly grass.

no one spoke. just appreciating each other’s presence while staring at the scintillating stars.

“y/n,” james whispered, not wanting to talk out loud. it was funny how james is usually so loud and boisterous around other people, but quiet and tranquil around you. it makes you feel so special, but you suppose that you wouldn’t be the only one who would witness james fleamont potter’s domestication now.

“yeah?” you breathed out, feeling your chest tighten in heartache.

“d’you reckon lily and i would end up like how i’d hope?” he questioned in doubt. you and james had a late-night conversation about your future before. your ideal relationships, future home, job, pets. you talked about everything and nothing.

you nearly let out a whimper, tears gathering in your eyes, “yeah, yeah. i mean, why not?” you took a deep breath, “you’re perfect for each other.”

you swallowed, “and if it doesn’t work out the way you’ve wanted, you know that ‘m always here for you, james,”

james didn’t respond but a smile broke out of his lips. he never saw the obvious implications of your crush on him, he never saw your loving glances, he never saw your pained expressions, and of course, he wouldn’t see the tears slowly falling from your eyes now.

there was a few moments of silence before you wiped the tears from your face, “what’s your biggest regret in life, james?” you asked.

he scrunched his nose up in thought, a mannerism of his that you found adorable, “perhaps not shooting my shot with lily sooner,”

“me, too,” you murmured, watching as the stars above you twinkle.

james looked at you in confusion, “huh?”

did you like lily, too? he didn’t know that you liked girls as well. he supposed that you fancied sirius as you spend a lot of time with him.

you gave him a small smile, “you’re my regret,”

james was beyond dumbfounded now, he tried to let your words sink in but he couldn’t think of anything that you could have possibly meant. did he do something wrong?

“what?”

you sighed, returning your gaze back to the dark sky, “i wish i told you how i felt sooner, too,”

that’s when everything clicked for him, “oh.”

you let out a humorless laugh, feeling the tears blur your vision yet again, “yeah, oh.”

james hastily sat up, moving to stare at your tear-stained cheeks. his heart broke, “y/n, i-”

you pursed your lips and sat up as well, “look, james, it’s fine, okay?”

“it’s not, it’s not. this- this isn’t fair,” his voice cracked, making you grimace.

“it’s fine,” you insisted, “you’re happy, and that’s enough for me,”

“it’s not fine because you’re not happy,” he ran a hand through his curls that you’ve grown to love.

��i’ll be alright, james,” you sent him a watery smile.

you stood up, kissing his forehead before sending him one last glance as you made your way back into the castle.

you gazed at the newly wedded couple, a small smile on your lips and a goblet of firewhiskey in hand. you were aware of someone sitting beside you, but you didn’t pay them any mind, opting to look at the beaming smile on your best friend’s face.

“you alright there?” sirius asked, watching as you glanced at james with the same longing look he knew all too well.

you turned to face him, giving him a genuine smile, “yeah, i will be,”

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @buckysbeloved @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

marauders taglist: @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @ch0kemedracomalfoy @acosmis-t @amrtxntias

#james potter #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james x you #james x reader #james x y/n #james #fleamont #potter #james potter blurb #james potter angst #james potter one shot #useramourtentiaa #tuserliane

368 notes · View notes

in-my-feels-probably · 3 years ago

Text

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Prologue - Before

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more.

INEFFABLE -- Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.)

too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.

Prologue - Before

Elham Creed had never known what it was like to be part of a family. From a Ravkan orphanage, to the Little Palace, finally landing in Ketterdam, the Barrel, she had never felt the sense of safety and security she had longed for as far back as she could remember. She wouldn’t find it in Ketterdam.

At 13 years old, with nothing but a collapsable sword belted around her waist and the clothes on her back, she had spent the first few days in the Barrel stalking around, stealing scraps of food where she could, trying to get her bearings. The frigid air sweeping over the harbour into the edge of town at night where she slept was enough to make Elham almost miss her room at the Little Palace.

Almost.

She wouldn’t go back, not after her mentor, Baghra’s, warnings. All she could do was push forward and move on. She spent nights alone ducked away into abandoned shacks, using her powers to spark warmth and light, practicing control. Being an inferni had its perks, but Elham was special. She didn’t need a starter, or a piece of flint to create a spark she could turn into a flame. She could create the flame all on her own. She kept this and her powers a secret, however. If the Darkling had taken interest in her abilities, there’s no doubt one of the Barrel bosses would bait her into doing their bidding.

And Elham Creed would do no one's bidding. She would be no one’s puppet.

---

Elham remembered the first time she killed a man. Coincidentally, it was also the first time she met Kaz Brekker. She was now 14, making her way towards the harbour, working on one of the odd jobs she could scam her way into. She headed past the White Rose on the way, one of the most frequented brothels in Ketterdam.

She headed down the alley behind the sorry excuse for an establishment, when she heard a scream. She rounded the corner, to find a man with his hand wrapped tightly around one of the employed girls' wrists, the other hand making its way up her hip, pinning her against the wall.

It’s a shame. Maybe if he had heard her coming, he could have avoided the sword held up to his neck. He could have avoided his death.

Most men in the Barrel, as Elham had come to realize, were not good men. While the “pigeons,” as she had come to know the tourists as, would have tucked tail and ran, this man did not. He only scoffed.

“A sword?” The man had slurred at her, clearly drunk. “You do realize I could have you shot and dead in a second, and get back to this lovely girl you so rudely interrupted me from. Although, you’re a pretty thing. Exotic. Maybe I’ll have you instead,” he had said, reaching for the pistol strapped to his hip.

Big mistake.

With her eyes glossing over, and a rage building inside her, she quickly removed the sword from his throat, and ran it through his back. He sputtered, and fell to his knees, choking on his own blood, or maybe his last words, Elham didn’t take the time to figure out which. She walked around to face his front as he gazed up at her, clutching his stomach with wide eyes. She breathed heavily, eyes wild.

“Good riddance.”

She lifted her foot and sent him sprawling back against the street, blood pooling around him. She glanced back at the girl who was still frozen against the wall, and her eyes softened.

“Thank you,” she whispered, before hurrying back into the White Rose. Elham only nodded, taking a breath, before turning to head towards the harbour.

That’s when she saw him.

A boy, no older than 14, dressed in black, gloves fitted to his hands. He seemed to be analyzing her, gears turning in his head. Kaz hadn’t mastered his pokerface yet, and Elham was good at reading people. She was unsure why she didn’t feel threatened by his presence, especially since he had just witnessed her kill someone, and she had no idea what his intentions were.

“You just killed a Dime Lion.”

Elham had heard of the gang before, and their leader, Pekka Rollins. She knew she was going to regret interfering with gang business, but her head was beginning to cloud, tears forming in her eyes. But she had saved that girl, she had saved herself, it was a split second decision. Unable to form words, she met the boy's stare.

She only slowly nodded in response.

After pondering for a moment, he had offered to take her to his boss, claiming that she’d be a valuable asset to the team. He’d never admit to her that it really was because he couldn’t bear to see the Barrel swallow up and harden another innocent kid, and maybe it was the way her eyes had glazed over, or how tattered her clothes were, or simply because she didn’t look at him like he was some sort of monster, but he took her in.

It was true, Haskell had been needing a new asset to the team, someone young and quick who could take care of themselves. Bringing a girl back to the Dregs was a risk, and Kaz was in no position to make himself look weak around the gang, but he just couldn’t leave her there in the street. That part of the Rietveld in him hadn’t died yet.

To this day, Elham isn’t sure what made her accept his offer to come with him. After almost a year in Ketterdam, she trusted no one, got close to no one. She had no business getting involved with a gang, she could have walked away, continuing to the harbour for the job assigned to her. There was something about him, though. And going with him was arguably the best decision she has made, she had decided.

---

Elham had been part of the Dregs for a few months, slowly gaining a reputation for herself. Kaz had taken a liking to her, almost admiring how fast she had taken to a life of crime, to the rigidity of the Barrel. He found a secret comfort in her presence, and in the fact that her story was similar to his. She hadn’t revealed much about her past to him, just enough to keep him intrigued.

And he was, despite his brain demanding he think otherwise, intrigued. She was ambitious, and cunning. Most interestingly, however, she was ruthless.

She had killed many men since the day she met Kaz. Barrel men were not good men. Elham made it a point to seek out the men who only caused pain. Men like the first man she had killed, men like Pekka Rollins and his Dime Lions. Men like them didn’t get to cause all the pain and suffering they did, and live.

Kaz had dubbed her, “The Valkyrie,” once, while on a job. The other Dregs took a liking to it, and it stuck. She asked him many times what it meant, why he would call her that, but he only smirked to himself, amused by her new found reputation, much to her annoyance.

He finally explained it to her, the night he broke his leg. They had been paired on the job together, and it had gone disastrously. They were sprinting along a rooftop, when Kaz made a bad landing, completely breaking the bone in his leg.

It was the first time she touched him.

When she first joined the Dregs, she had quickly picked up on the fact that he didn’t want to be touched. She could sense his unease when they had to be close together on jobs in tight spaces, or when one of the drunken Dregs would pat him on the back for a job well done, or during a brawl with a rival gang. She always kept her distance, respecting his space.

But this time, she had no choice. Kaz was crying out in pain, and Elham knew she had to get him back to the Slat to get his leg reset, and out of harm's way. She clicked the button on her belt and grabbed for the hilt of her sword, and with a flick of her wrist, it unfolded into place to its full length. Kaz had pulled himself to a kneeling position, desperately trying to hide his vulnerability, eyes frantically looking for an escape. She offered the hilt of her sword to him.

“Kaz, you have to let me help you. I’m sorry, but you have to let me. Hold onto the hilt, and on three, I’m going to tug under your arm to get you standing. We’ve got to get you back to the Slat before you pass out from the pain or we get ourselves killed out here.” He only gave her a pained look, before nodding, and they slowly made their way back to the Slat, with him putting as much weight on the hilt as he could, Elham trying her best to make sure he couldn’t feel her fingers through his jacket as she dragged him along.

Hours later, while he lay unconscious on the cot in his room, Elham had anxiously waited in the chair in the corner of the room. She hadn’t realized how much she had grown to care for Kaz, for him and her life with the Dregs. She knew she would have killed for him that night if it came to it, no doubt about it in her mind. Kaz only awoke for a few minutes that night, and had mumbled a few words to her.

“Do you know what Valkyrie means? It means ‘chooser of the slain.’ It seems like you choose who lives and dies around the Barrel. Killing men, making sure I don’t die. It’s fitting, isn’t it?” He had joked to her, the faintest of grins tugging at his lips. Elham had sucked in a breath, and offered a small smile at him, standing to leave as he drifted off, knowing he was going to be alright. Broken, as she knew he would think of himself, but alright.

---

It had been a few years in the Dregs, as the Crows slowly formed. First Jesper, then Inej. The Dregs had become a force to be reckoned with in Ketterdam. Despite their ages and newness to the life of a gang, The Sharpshooter, the Wraith, the Valkyrie, and Dirtyhands were well known identities around the Barrel.

They had hardened over the years, Kaz more so than any of them, the Barrel being a quick teacher in offering harsh life lessons.

Elham remembered the first time one of them uttered the words, “no mourners, no funerals.” Inej had been interested in what Elham’s name meant, Elham meaning inspiration, Creed meaning belief or law. A particular favorite member of the Dregs, and a friend of Rotty’s, had been killed on a job. Elham took this particularly hard, he was one of the men that had made her transition into the gang easier.

They sat silently in her room together, when Jesper spoke softly. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your name. Creed. Maybe, ‘no mourners, no funerals’ could be our creed.” Elham had let a tear roll down her cheek at that, and she nodded at Jesper, letting him grab her hand, while Inej, perched on the window ledge, laid her hand on Elhams shoulder. Kaz had lifted his eyes from the floor when Jesper spoke, his eyes landing on the girl. He slowly slid his cane towards her, softly tapping the end at the base of her ankle, before returning to his original position.

It was one of Elham’s favorite memories of them. Of him.

The Crows were chaotic and an odd group, but they were Elham’s family, as close as she would ever get to one. Saint’s forbid she ever told them that, it would go straight to Jesper’s head. But they were enough for her. Her Crows were enough. And they were about to raise a little bit of hell.

---

A/N - hi everyone, omg im so excited about this book, i hope you liked the prologue, im working on the first few chapters and will have them up soon. let me know what you think so far, and thank you for the support!

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows #shadow and bone #wattpad #prologue #original character #ineffable #in_my_feels_probably

85 notes · View notes

kokororyuu · 4 years ago

Text

miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]

synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”

warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33

PART TWO: once more

whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.

you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.

you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?

you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?

“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.

your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.

you recall the first time you caught him off guard.

it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.

you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.

a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.

a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.

“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.

it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”

levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.

“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.

there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.

you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.

“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”

“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.

he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.

“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.

“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.

“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”

you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.

“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.

hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?

in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.

you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.

levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.

it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.

he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.

it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.

he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.

levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.

during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.

the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.

you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”

you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.

“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.

levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.

but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.

“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.

“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.

the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.

levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.

the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.

the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.

there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.

levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.

he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.

he felt normal, and strangely free.

and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.

he didn’t want to lose you.

levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.

humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.

“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.

“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.

his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”

“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”

you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.

one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.

“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.

you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.

it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.

he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.

he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.

you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.

you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.

time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.

he’s lost his light.

you’re gone.

levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.

he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.

as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.

his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.

the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”

and finally, he lets himself cry.

explanations

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D

“it is...”

this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot #levi aot #aot imagines #snk fanfiction #snk levi #snk #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #angst #attack on titan #major character death #angst with a sad ending #angst with fluff #fluff

117 notes · View notes

mighty-ragnarssons · 4 years ago

Text

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter II

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Warnings | some smut, a little angst, violence, harassement, teenage pregnancy

Keep up with the previous chapter here [chapter 1]

First of all let me thank you for the amazing support. You guys are the best! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

You can read in AO3 as well (click here).

Chapter 2

Days passed and still no text. Ivar was tempted to drive by the apartment he’d left them at, but that would be crazy, right? He should’ve never told her to use his number in case of emergency. What if that was why she didn’t contact him? Instead he tried to let it go although it wasn’t easy. He’d go to class in university, he’d party with his brothers, he’d smoke some things to keep his mind away, but nothing really worked. Once he was obsessed with something, that was it.

It didn’t help at all when Hvitserk came home one day saying he’d seen Ivar’s girl.

“What do you mean?”

“That girl from the other night. The one you’re so hung up on. The pretty blonde” Ivar had to stop himself from growling. Why couldn’t his brother just tell him already? Hvitserk was clearly amused at the whole situation. “I left the gym and went to try that new coffee shop downtown, know which one? Well, she’s an attendant there. And you know what, she looks really cute in an apron” Hvisterk teased, seeing how Ivar’s teeth clenched slightly. “Cute and nice. She offered me a coffee and a muffin, saying it was to thank me for the help. Damn fine muffins. I might have to go there again for one of those sweet things.”

While Hvitserk daydreamed of muffins, Ivar was thinking about having them as an excuse to pass by the coffee shop. He couldn’t stay away and this was the perfect excuse.

“Did she tell you to visit again?” Ivar asked, taken aback for a moment. His older brother, much like the others, was the town’s heart breakers. Hvitserk’s pretty looks and dazzling smile could get him anyone he wanted. Perhaps he’d already bewitched the girl.

“I guess so. She works there, isn’t she supposed to say that? ‘Have a nice day. Come again!’ I’m pretty sure she says it to everyone. But if what you are asking me is that I got her number or anything, the answer is no. I actually asked her out again but she didn’t take me seriously” Pretending to be hurt, he put his hand over his heart. “Perhaps she is not into Ragnarssons. Interesting, uh? There’s always a first”

Stupid Hvits, Ivar wanted to say. How could his brother go after the girl he clearly had staked a claim on?

“Did she tell you her name?” This little detail was something he couldn’t stop wondering about.

“Now that I think about it, no, I don’t think so. I was too distracted by her pretty smile to ask about that” Well, now Hvisterk was really just trying to mess with his brothers “Tell me, little brother, will you crawl into that coffee shop right now?” he joked “Take my advice: lose the puppy face before going.”

“So funny I forgot I to laugh”

Hvitserk was wrong. Ivar didn’t crawl to the coffee shop right away that day, although he wanted to. Instead, trying to be rational, he waited a couple of days and decided to drop by after his classes in university. He could always pretend he went there to study, although that was something he rarely did. He just really wanted to see the girl again. She hadn’t left his thoughts since that night.

However, to his dismay, she wasn’t there. There were only two attendants and none were his nameless girl. His heart sunk a little, but disappointment was something he was used to. It no longer left a bitter taste to this mouth. He stayed, nevertheless. After a couple of hours working in his computer in the company of a whipped cream coffee and one of the famous muffins - his brother was right, they were a delicacy, he was finally willing to admit defeat. It’s not like he could even ask about her, not really given how her name was something he didn’t know yet. so, the afternoon definitely didn’t go as he had expected.

Frustrated, he put his computer back in the bag and left the payment on the table. With the help of his crutches, Ivar stood and was on the way out, almost making it past the door but stopped seconds before the door opened, almost hitting him.

He would’ve been mad, but it was her coming in.

“It’s like we can’t stop meeting like this” he chuckled.

The blonde girl looked surprised. “I’m sorry. It seems I have a bad habit of bumping into you”

Because there were clients trying to go through said door as well, both Ivar and the girl stepped outside.

“You’re leaving?”

“And you’re just getting here now?”

“I guess your brother told you I worked here”

“Well, yes. But I was just passing by. My university is just a couple of blocks away. I’ve been meaning to try out this since it opened and I needed to study”

He regretted saying this almost immediately. Would she get the idea that he was not interested in seeing her again?

“I only work here after classes” she informed, while mindlessly flipping her hair away from the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Ivar didn’t miss a single movement of hers, wishing he’d been the one doing that for her.

What the fuck, Ivar? Focus, he was trying to tell himself.

“It was nice to see you, Ivar. I don’t think I thank you enough the other night. You really helped us out. Not many would have done that” She smiled a little “I gotta go in or else I’ll be late for my shift” She moved closer to the coffee shop’s door.

He didn’t want to see her go, though “Maybe we can meet one of these days?”

Looking conflicted, she bit her lip “Perhaps we'd better not" she said “It’s like I told your brother… I have a lot going on, with school and work and.. well, I’m sure you’re busy too”

Ivar was shocked. Was she really dismissing him that quickly? He wasn’t one to take ‘no’ for an answer. “There’s always time if the company is good”

“You’re Ivar Lothbrok. One of the Ragnarssons”

That settled it. The first time he heard her saying his name, it sounded so good. This time? She was not as impressed, it seemed.

“And so what? What stories have you heard that led you to believe I won’t be any good company?” his voice was raised and succeeded in making her feel uncomfortable.

She shot him an apologetic look. “It doesn’t matter, Ivar. I’m sorry, I really have to go inside. Please, do know that I’m grateful for your help and I wished things were different”

“You just don’t want to hang out with a Ragnarsson, I get it” his accusatory tone made her flinch. Although his expression was carefully controlled, she saw in his eyes that her rejection stung. “Before you go, allow me at least to say a proper goodbye. I don’t know your name yet”

For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to tell him anyways. All of this was going terribly. But then she surprised him “My name is Eva. Eva Jørgensen”

Bitterly, and before walking away, he proceeded “Then I guess this is goodbye, Eva Jørgensen. Have a nice life.”

“Goodbye, Ivar Lothbrok”

Her rejection stung far more than he wanted to admit. It felt worse than his previous rejections, not just because of the blow to his ego, but more because he cared a little for her, had since the night he helped her in the club, and somewhat he’d been expecting things to go differently. How stupid he was feeling.

It didn’t take long for his ill temper to grow as he drove back home. Finding out that a party was taking place in the Lothbrok home didn't improve much of his mood, either. Moving through the crowd of people into the living room, he saw Sigurd playing DJ in a corner, looking high as fuck by the looks of his attempted dance moves. Not far from him was Hvitserk surrounded by a bunch of ladies. Ivar recognised many of the faces among the more than a hundred people.

“Brother” Ubbe showed up behind him. He was still in his business attire, looking completely out of place from the rave “Sigurd claimed we need to make use of the house before our father comes back. Texted everyone we knew.” he explained, opening a beer can. Only then he noticed his little brother’s somber expression. “What’s eating you? You look like you could use a drink”

“I sure do. Actually… You wouldn’t happen to have any pills with you? In your personal stash”

“Ivar… I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

“C’mon, don’t be a killjoy”

“Is it for the pain?” Ubbe asked, but reckoning it wouldn’t be. Ivar’s eyes were not the strongest shade of blue like they used to be when he’s suffering more than usual.

“Ubbe, will you fucking give me some or not?” he snarled.

“Look, I don’t have any at the moment. Maybe Hvitty does, but he looks like he’s already under the influence of them. Why don’t you just come out to the terrace, drink something and chill? I’m sure your shitty day will get better if you stop being so grumpy”

“Spare me the bullshit. I’m out of here”

Holding tight to his crutches, Ivar went to his room. It was the only room on the ground floor so the blasting music could still be heard from it. In need of releasing some steam, he took the matters to the gym they had on the basement floor, also known as the man cave. Getting one beer from the bar they kept down there, he decided to throw punches on the boxing bag, which he could only do from a seating position. When beers were no longer satisfying him, he took it to the bottle of vodka. Ivar just wanted to have his mind distracted from the beautiful Eva.

At some point, when his sight was already blurry and he had collapsed on a red couch, he thought he was imagining things for he’d swear there was a girl who was making her way to him. He tried to blink but his vision wouldn't get any better (no doubt too much alcohol and physical pain had taken over him). The world slightly dark around him, Ivar felt a set of hands pulling his t-shirt, then pressing onto his sweaty torso first, then down towards his pants. The next thing he feels is his lower lip being bitten. At the metallic taste of blood, he regained consciousness just a bit, but enough to discern the blonde girl who now had her hand inside his pants.

“Margrethe, don’t fucking play games with me” he said dangerously.

Margrethe only continued to look mockingly into his blue eyes. “So vulnerable and at my mercy, Ivar. Still, you don’t get it up, do you? Why do I even bother?” A mean laugh rose from her throat “Ubbe said you need some cheering. I guess I felt sorry for the poor little Boneless”

Something snapped in him. His ungovernable temper got the best of him. With the accumulated irritation of the day upon him, he suddenly grabbed her arm and forced it off of him. Muttering between his teeth, he warned “We 'll see about who’s at mercy here”. He could be a crippled, but he was not weak by any means. His hand was not on her neck so hard that Margrethe fell back against the couch, and stayed there with her hands spread out against him, trying to get off his grip.

“IVAR! What the fuck are you doing?”

Suddenly Hvitserk was pulling him away, making Ivar collapse on the floor. Margrethe jumped to the blonde brother’s arms in no time.

"He's crazy. He’s absolutely mad!” She whined, burying her face in Hvitserk’s chest. “Take me out of here”

To complete the party, the rest of the brothers showed up as well, all of them taking Hvitserk’s side and looking down on their cripledl brother. Their looks were one that Ivar had spent his whole life loathing: one of pity and superiority.

“You’re drunk, man. Crawl back to your room, cripple”

It was Sigurd speaking, of course. Margrethe was his favorite. Ubbe simply shot him a disappointed stare before the four of them returned to the party.

Ivar stood on the floor laughing hysterically until he realized what he had done. It didn’t matter that Margrethe was not a saint. She loved to miserly tease him just so she could humiliate him next. It still didn’t give him the right to go against a woman, though. Shame poured over him.

Alone on the cold floor of the basement, a single tear ran down his cheek. What a fucking miserable day.

The following days were no better. His brothers were giving him a silent treatment since the party. Sigurd could barely look at him without snorting. And without his brothers Ivar really didn’t have anyone close, not really caring for his colleagues at university.

There was one person. Floki, the oldest friend of his father Ragnar and Ivar’s mentor.

Ivar dropped by the bay where Floki had his workshop, where he worked on the sailing boats that had coined him the best boat builder in all of Norway. He now ran a successful company called North Sails. Usually Ivar would go spend his afternoons there and would even help a bit, but his mind wasn’t in the right place at the time and Floki kindly dismissed him after Ivar almost ruined a custom-made pine wood deck by spraying the wrong product.

For the most part of the week he had been lonely, which wasn’t something new, but it still bothered him. To pass the time, he worked out more and even went to all his classes and not skip some as usual, but none of that really helped. So that late October afternoon he had resigned to spend it indoors, playing playstation, which was something he usually delighted in beating his brother at, but not this time as he was by himself.

Until his phone beeped. At first, Ivar didn’t pay much attention, but then another text message flashed his screen and a word caught his eyes. Eva.

He immediately grabbed the phone, sliding into the messages from the unknown number which read:

‘Sorry to bother, but I don’t know who else to ask for help. Can you come to the coffee shop? Asap’

‘It’s Eva’

Less than fifteen minutes and many crossed red lights later, Ivar parked his SUV right in front of the coffee shop, not minding it was a forbidden parking area. Although it was past the normal closing time, the lights were on, yet the door was closed. On a normal week night, the street wasn’t as busy as during the day, and but a couple of guys in a corner, it was all empty.

Ivar first tried to look inside, then knocked. He was worried, wondering what help Eva needed. Was she in trouble? Was she hurt? Ivar surprised himself by figuring out that all the grudge he was holding against her was gone, completely replaced with worry.

He let out a sigh of relief when she came up from behind the counter and came to open the door, allowing him inside. The look of relief in her face did not escape him. “Thank you for coming, especially after the last time we..uh...met”

“What’s going on? What’s the matter?”

“This might be silly, and I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, you did tell me to contact in case of an emergency and this might not be one and I’m sorry -”

He cut off her nervous rambling “Eva, just tell me”

“My stupid boss went to watch a football game and left me the keys to close up the space, even if it was not on my schedule. Some guys dropped by. It was really difficult to get them to pay and leave. But they're not gone. When I tried to step outside and wait at the bus stop, they started coming my way and calling out. I rushed back here and locked myself. I was so nervous I texted you. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking”

“Don’t apologize.” His jaw clenched. His face hardened, and he started to rise with a hint of violence “Stay here” He commanded before turning his back on her and walking out of the coffee shop.

“Ivar, what are you going to do!”

“Damn, Eva, stay inside”

But she wouldn’t and followed him into the alley. Ivar actually recognised the four guys propped against the wall, acting all tough. The Ragarnasson stood his ground, not feeling nor looking the least intimidated for being outnumbered.

“Nothing to do tonight, boys? You can always go home and catch up with the last episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians instead of creeping out here” he gritted through his teeth.

“Who do you think you are?” one of them stood to face Ivar.

“Oh, the brave one of the group, no? Get your asses out of here before I make you regret coming” Ivar warned seriously.

“You think I’m afraid of you, cripple?”

Don’t say I didn’t tell you so, Ivar thought before head-butting the guy in the nose. The scumbag immediately fell to the ground, dazed. Ivar stomped his crutch over his chest.

“If you ever come near her or the coffee shop again, I'm going to break the rest of your face. And after I do that, I promise I'll break every bone in your body, one by one. Trust me, I know how much it hurts to have your bones broken. You don’t want that happening” He lifted his foot a fraction and the guy whimpered “You know who I am. I am Ivar Lothbrok. I might break a bone, but I can never break a promise. Do you follow me?”

After Ivar let him, the guy rolled over. He seemed scared enough, his hands covering the bloody nose. The guys were looking at Ivar like he was mad and that scared them enough to leave as soon as they helped their friend get up.

When they were finally alone, Ivar turned back to face Eva, thinking he probably scared her off as well. Yet there she was and the next second he knew, Eva launched herself at him, giving him an unexpected firm hug. He definitely hadn't seen that coming.

“Thank you” As she stepped back, she looked a little embarrassed as if realising a boundary had been crossed “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot” She blushed. “I’m glad you texted me”

“I didn't know who else to text… I don’t know many people in this city yet.”

“Do these guys hang around here much?”

“Sometimes” she bit her lip nervously. “Tonight was the first time they tried to come for me. I usually don’t do night shifts alone”

For a moment he wondered what could’ve happened. Anger build up within him, making him wish he’d beat the crap out of those stupid guys.

“I don’t think they’ll try again. If they do, they’ll have to do deal with me”

“Again, I really do not know how to thank you enough, Ivar”

“It was no trouble” he replied, with a smile that made him look more handsome than ever, or so she thought.

“It was trouble. Are you hurt?” Again, without thinking, she came closer to him inspecting concernedly “Are you hurt? You head butted that guy strong”

“I’m fine, don’t worry”

“Well, I am worried. Let me at least give you some ice”

He followed her inside and sat waiting for her to return with a bag of ice. The inside of the coffee shop was welcomingly warm in sharp contrast to how cold he didn’t realize was outside. “Lean back” she instructed and he followed suit, putting his head back. Eva had to stand so close to him that her body touched his as she placed the ice bag gently on the swelling of his chin. She bent over him, her lips puckered in serious concentration as she tried not to hurt him. Other than his mother, no one had ever been so gentle with him before. Gradually as he takes in her closeness, he smells her perfume, surprised that it is something spicy, sweet and lovely altogether.

“I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen”

“This is nothing. I grew up the youngest of many brothers. Can you imagine how many times we wrestled while growing up?”

She smiled, causing him to do so as well. After how he treated her the last time they met, he thought she wouldn’t feel comfortable with him again, but it didn’t feel that way. He felt...at ease with her. Just like he did when they had first met.

Eventually, as Eva released the ice bag, their distance grew a bit. Ivar had to keep himself from growling in disappointment.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed after looking at the time and jumping to grab her things “The last bus just went by. Fuck!”

“Let me drive you home. There’s no way I was going to let you wait for another bus anyways”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore. You already had quite a share”

“Don’t be silly. I won’t take no for an answer”

Driving her home took longer than he imagined. She lived almost out of town, which made him figure it would be around forty minutes by bus. Driving took a little less time. Time which they did mostly in silence, although it looked as both wanted to start a conversation without really knowing how.

“You can drop me off here”

“Are you sure?” There didn't seem to be many houses there, mostly warehouses and shops.

“Yes, I live nearby.”

“I can drop you off at your doorstep” She seemed troubled which made him guess “You don’t want to be seen with me”

“It’s complicated, Ivar”

“You said that last time” he snorted, disappointed once again.

“You’re right. I did.”

“You have a look on your face that tells me you’re about to say sorry again”

“Well, I was. I am.” How had he read her so easily? “I wish I could explain it better. I can get in trouble if my family realizes something happened and that I took your ride. That is all. Ivar, I really owe you thanks for your help” her hand reached his instinctively. Eva looked up at him with a thankful gaze before getting out of the car.

He watched as she disappeared in the distance and drove off afterwards, not knowing how to feel about all of this. He had wanted to talk to her, learn more about her, ask her what was going on and on what terms they were on. He wanted to ask her if she’d text him again.

He wanted to tell her he wanted her to.

To his amazement, she did. Text him, that is. He was already in bed when his phone bipped.

‘I really thank you, especially for helping me out twice already. I promise trouble doesn’t usually follow me so often… I also want to apologize for the way I approached you at the beginning. I'm sorry about that. Let me know how I can make it up to you. Good dreams, Ivar.’

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Tags: @adrille88 @istorkyou @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius

If you’d like to be addded or removed from the tag list at any given time, please, message me to let me know*

#knocked up fic #my fiction #vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings fic #modern vikings #modern vikings au #modern ivar #modern ivar au #ivar #ivar the boneless #ragnarssons #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #ivar x original female character #fanfic #fic #fanfiction

63 notes · View notes

lucyjay · 4 years ago

Text

Silver (b.bh)

||You and Baekhyun have been friends for the past couple years. What happens when you both develop feelings for each other but no one has the courage to admit it?

Genre: smut (a bit of fluff)

Warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, teasing, unprotected sex ( balloon your baboons fellahs), dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, cum play, throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

Words: 6.5k

You throw a final look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. I look like shit, you think to yourself and make your way to the bathroom to finish straightening your hair. The last thing you are in the mood for is clubbing but guess who won’t take no for an answer?your friend Nat who borderline blackmailed you into either joining her and your friends tonight or finding all your embarrassing high school photos displayed on your insta tomorrow morning.

After managing to make your hair not look like you got out of a cat fight, you put on some make up which for you consists of 3 simple steps. Step 1, hiding the black shopping bags that jewel your under eyes, Step 2, some blush so that you don’t resemble a ghost and Step 3, mascara. The final result looks better than you anticipated when you started getting ready over an hour ago.

A simple black baggie-t’shirt style dress, a pair of black boots, your straight hair naturally hugging your shoulders, falling all the way down to your waist and last your make up which thank god hides the fact that you’ve worked a total of 60 hours this week. It’s a nice, fresh spring night and you reckon you’d be okay without a jacket on. You throw your keys, phone and credit card in a small bag and make your way out of your apartment. Your find your uber already waiting for you outside the main entrance of the building, you jump in and decide to give your friend a call to check if they are already at the club.

“Hola”, her high pitched voice makes you chuckle, she still sounds like a 5 year old girl just like when you first met her.

“Hola. Sooo, I’m on my way, I should be there in like 20′ max. Who else is coming? Please tell me Sehun and Taeyong will be there? Taeyong promised he would make time if i joined you”, you protest already used to one of your best friends, Taeyong canceling on you lastminute.com because of work.

“They are already with me babe and we should reach the club in 10′ or so. Sara and Jaebum are coming as well, Bam is DJ’ing, oh and ahm”, she pauses and your heart starts racing subconsciously knowing what she is about to say. “..Baekhyun is coming”. You swear at her for not letting you know earlier and she mumbles apologies which leave you completely untouched.

“Nat, you did it on purpose”, you try to keep your tone calm only because your uber driver is already giving you some “lady keep your voice down” looks through the rear mirror.

“I didn’t but even if I did so what? We are all friends and it’s completely childish of both of you to put us in a position where we have to go out with each of you separately. Bam is worried and Sehun is having abandonment issues”, she whines dramatically and you hear Sehun in the background screaming, “I just want my friends back, oh god, please”, a fake cry following his oscar-worthy performance as you hear Taeyong burst into laughter a bit further in the background.

“Ok ok! I don’t care. I’m done playing his little games anyway. I wanna drink and have fun. See you in a bit”, you reply and hang up. The uber has reached the city centre and your gaze in boring outside the window looking at the people and the buildings but not really paying attention to anything. All you can think about is him. How things have completely gone to shit when they were so promising. You and Baekhyun met a a couple years ago when he started hanging out with Sehun who he met at work. The latest then brought him into your group and he clicked with all of you straight away.

Fast forward to a a few months ago, you were at one of BamBam’s house parties chilling and chatting away when he confessed that he likes you and he has been into you since the day he met you catching you completely off guard. You, having been crushing on the boy since the moment you laid your eyes on him, did what no 26 year old, sane woman would do and just bailed. Literally left him there, drink in hand, mouth hanging open in shock and you just left the house, got inside a taxi and went home. You were so embarrassed over your reaction and disappointed in yourself for ruining the perfect chance to be with the biggest crush you’ve had since middle school, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to message an apology to him. A few days later you all met at a cafe and that’s when it started. He was so cold and sulky towards you and who could blame him? But he was overdoing it to the point that it started pissing you off. You couldn’t get him to talk to you alone and eventually managed to get you to not stand being with him in the same room. Every time you met since then, it was just a verbal war between the two of you, full of sneaky insults and hurtful jokes with a drizzle of swear words and some whipped sarcasm on top.

“It’s just one night out. How bad can it get?”, you whisper only for your own ears to hear you. The uber slows down outside the club, you thank your driver and step out of the vehicle, gently closing the door behind you. The queue for the club isn’t too long and you can spot Nat,Tae and Sehun waiting on the left side where the VIP queue is forming. Sehun waves at you eagerly and you make your way to their direction.

“At least she is wearing a dress and not pyjamas”, Sehun teases and lifts you up in a hug that made you almost gasp for air.

“I am overworked, not lame. I now how to dress for a night out”, you spit back faking annoyance and the younger boy raises his hands in defence.

“Tough week at work?”, Taeyong asks as all four of you walk towards the entrance of the club.

“Everybody decided to get married at the end of summer apparently, so considering that I have to organise 9 weddings within the next 4 months, I would say tough year.”, you pause and your eyes follow the direction Taeyong is looking at and...there he is. Locking his car dressed like a bloody model straight out of a Vogue photoshoot. Black jeans, loose blue shirt, a silk navy blue scarf around his neck and a pair of black boots. “...and it’s not about to get better”, you finish your sentence.

Him being ridiculously attractive should have been something you were used to by now, but you haven’t seen him in almost a month and in all honesty you almost forgot how easily he makes your entire body go numb just by standing there not even looking at you. Too lost in your own thoughts you haven’t noticed him standing next to you greeting the others, ‘till he turns his attention to you. His hair is silver. Fuck him and his ability to look good in everything. Fuck him and his gorgeous face, you think to yourself.

“Your hair is longer”, he says in the most indifferent tone. Is this his idea of a greeting? Asshole, you think.

“Your hair is bloody silver”, you reply, your eyes not leaving his. He serves you a slight side smile and you can feel the insides of your palms getting sweaty.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”, he throws a rhetorical question not really waiting for an answer. You tsk and roll your eyes at him while quickly turning to get inside the club. BamBam was near the entrance to greet you and show you which table he reserved for you and your friends. You follow him and he leaves you shortly after to go and prepare his station for his set next to the man currently DJ’ing.

“I’m gonna go get drinks, what do you want?”, Baekhyun asks the rest of you.

“Let’s just get a bottle”, Nat proposes and you nod. “tequila or Vodka?”, she asks.

“Tequila”, you and Baekhyun shout in unison and you turn to look at each other. Are the lights in here making him look even more attractive or is it just you being horny for him? You give yourself a mental slap.

“Tequila is good”, Sehun adds. Baekhyun makes his way to the bar and Nat moves to your side, leaning next to your ear so that she doesn’t need to scream on top of the music.

“Make a move”, she says and you almost choke on your own spit.

“Are you insane? Haven’t you been around lately? I guess not. Let me fill you in. In the last episode of Season 2, he hates me. End of story”, you reply and she chuckles.

“He doesn’t hate you. He is just still hurt by your reaction back then. And you are clearly into him. Like, it’s clear like the sun. Like, I can see you undressing him with your eyes. I could legit-...”

“That’s enough! I got your point”, you cut her off and really wish Baek could get his ass there already cause you swear you would love to down that entire bottle of tequila right now.

“Babe, talk to him. It’s a shame. You have had feelings for each other for so long. You can’t just..leave it.”, she says and her tone is soothing and understanding. You turn to look at her and nod causing her to smile widely and clap her hands like a little kid who just got her birthday gift. A minute later Baek shows up with two bottles of tequila inside a bucket and a waitress follows right behind him with a tray full of glasses and ice which she lays on your table.

A few drinks down and you find yourself relaxed enough to be dancing with Taeyong like there’s no tomorrow, rocking some crazy moves perfectly nsync with BamBam’s wild beats. Taeyong’s hands are on your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder, your back against his chest as you sing every single lyric of the song currently blasting.

“I need another drink”, he screams over the music. You nod and make your way to the table where you find Nat and Sehun talking to Jaebum and Sara, a couple Nat met whilst on holidays in Japan, who happened to be from the same city as the rest of you. You chat with them for a few minutes, sipping on your drink when you realise you haven’t seen Baekhyun since returning to the table. After scanning the area around you, your gaze falls on Nat’s who mouths a silent “outside” to you, as if she has read your thoughts. You excuse yourself and make your way through the intoxicated crowd, eventually reaching the exit of the club. You step on the pavement and look up and down both directions to see if you can spot Baek. On the left side of the doors, a few meters away you can distinguish a frame that looks like him. You slowly make your way towards the man and after a few steps you can see his face clearer under the dull lighting the lamppost covers the corner of the street with. He was staring at the ground, cigarette in between his index and middle finger. You clear your throat and he turns to look at you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you”, he says calmly, taking a puff of his cigarette, quickly letting a line of smoke out of his nostrils.

“You smoke”, you say and it’s more like a realisation and less like a question. Your stare drifts off of his face and down to his feet as if his shoes are the most interesting thing to you.

“Yes, got a problem with that?’, he turns to look at you and you raise your head to meet his eyes. You can’t read him. You never could. He looks unbothered yet sounds annoyed. It’s so frustrating and you swear at yourself for even thinking of approaching him. You scoff and turn to leave, sure that you’re clearly not wanted there.

“That’s the second time”, he says and his voice is low but you can sense a weak scent of irony lingering at the end of his word. You stop in your trucks and turn to face him.

“What was that?”, you ask.

“It’s the second time you walk away from me. There won’t be a third”, his statement catches you off guard but you’re not planning on letting him see the affect his words have on you.

“I suppose you came out here to get some air, I wanted to check if you’re alright but you’re clearly not up for a chat. Am I wrong for thinking that the best thing to do was to excuse myself?”, you regret the slight sarcasm in your words which was completely unintended. His attention lands on your face. There’s at least 2 meters distance between yourself and him but for some reason you feel like you’re suffocating. His presence is so strong that you can’t even think straight. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he throws his cigarette somewhere to the side and with two steps he is standing right in front of you. You can smell the smoke on him but it doesn’t bother you; his cologne in combination with his addictive natural scent are enough to make your head hazy. He shouldn’t be able to affect you like this.

“Excuses”, his voice comes out like a loud whisper and you feel embarrassed at how it makes your entire lower body go numb and the sensitive area between your legs pulsate. His stare is so heavy that it almost makes you feel small. He moves a bit closer to you and you can almost feel his body touching yours.

“Baekhyun, I’m...”, your voice fades out unable to complete the sentence. Your eyes still on his like magnets. You can’t see anything around you but him.

“Finish your sentence Y/N”, he says calmly. You gather all the courage you could before you allow the confessions that you have been battling all these months, come out. It’s so hard but you know you have to. You have to give it a shot.

“I’m sorry. For that day.”, you say and his features rest in a slight shock which only encourages you to continue.

“I’m sorry i left you like that and that I didn’t explain myself. I’m sorry that I never called you after what happened. But what I’m not sorry about is what happened afterwards. You were so mean to me and you refused to talk to me. Your behaviour was horrible and I don’t take back anything I’ve said to you every time we fought”. You swear your knees are about to give out and your breathing is so heavy that you can feel your chest rising and falling as if you were running. You heart beating in your head is making you dizzy and you pray that you won’t just faint right there and then.

“You don’t regret anything you’ve said to me all the times we fought?”, he asks and you feel a pinch of annoyance that this was the only part of your paragraph long monologue he chose to focus on.

“Nothing. You started every single fight”, your statement came out strong and your voice way too stable given your current state. You congratulate yourself in your head. As if that was even possible, Baekhyun steps even closer to you, now trapping you between his body and the wall. You can feel his torso pushing yours backwards only for the back of your waist to land on his right hand, his left one resting on the wall slightly brushing your cheek.

“I swear I would take you against this fucking wall just to shut this annoying mouth of yours”, his lips almost touching yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his words wake the butterflies in your stomach. You’re mad at yourself for feeling so weak under his stare. It takes you a few seconds to realise that you have been holding in a breath. You just stand there, frozen, eyes glued on his honey brown ones when the words roll out of your tongue without second thought.

“Why don’t you then?”, you speak in a low voice that even gives you goosebumps. Your boldness surprises him and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t. I-..”

“Excuses”, you cut him off and you catch him so off guard that if it wasn’t for you being an absolute mess right now, his shocked stare would have had you chuckling. He raises his hand to caress your cheek and the way his knuckles softly touch your skin makes your entire body shiver. He doesn’t allow you to let the sudden skinship action sink in when he tilts his head only to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore. Please tell me Y/N. Just tell me what you want”, he pleads and the entirety of your body heat is now resting on your face. You have never seen Baekhyun like this, basically asking you to take the upper hand. You rest your arms on his and connect your hands behind his neck.

“I want you Baekhyun. I don’t even remember how it was not to want you.”, you inhale and the air entering your nostrils feels too hot “...let’s go back to yours.Or mine, I don’t care”. The moment you finished your sentence Baekhyun’s hand was on yours, already guiding you towards the direction of his car. He open the door for you to get in and a second later he jumps in the driver’s seat.

Baekhyun’s eyes are glued on the road and his grip on the wheal is strong. You take a minute to examine his side profile and your eyes linger on each of his beautiful features. His beautiful honey-brown eyes, his straight nose and his soft, pink lips that are currently pressed into a thin line as if he is trying hold back a river of words threatening to fall out. Your hands are resting on your thighs which you’re pressing together in a desperate attempt to ease the buzzing in your lower area. You are already so embarrassingly wet, even though Baek hasn’t even touched you, which makes you realise how wrong all your past partners must have been treating you. Not able to stand the distance between the two of you, you place your hand on top of his right thigh, slowly dancing your fingers up and down the area. He shakes his head, momentarily closing his eyes only to open them a second later. His stare is intense but you can’t read it properly.

“Babe...”, he says and your hand movement stops at the sound of the nickname. Feeling more aroused by the second, you bend slightly over so that your lips are brushing against his ear.

“What...babe?”, you tease and he grips the wheel with such strength that it looks like he is trying to break it in half.

“Finish your sentence Baek”, you continue and at this point you know you’re playing with fire. He turns to give you a look for a split second, his eyes filled with something unknown to you and a slight smirk is gracing his beautiful lips.

“Sit back properly, take off your underwear and open your legs.”, you’re looking at him, eyes wide open in shock. His habit of bossing you around would normally have you ignoring his ass, maximum serving him an eyeroll as a response, but now it’s different. Your brain hasn’t even had the time to comprehend the possible consequences of his request, when you find your hands slowly sliding the sides of your underwear down your legs. Before you manage to even speak a word, his slender fingers are caressing the inside of your thighs and you throw your head back, eyes shut in an attempt to keep yourself under control. His middle finger and index travel all the way to your sensitive area and you let out a low gasp when you feel them on your heat.

“Holy fuck...”, he says and inserts one finger inside your throbbing pussy. You moan out his name as his digit is hitting you exactly on the right spot and you can’t see it but there’s a victory smile resting on his lips.

“Baek wait...”, you try to complain but it’s in vain. He adds a second finger and while keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, driving almost at 150 km/h, he is steadily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You turn your head to the side, your eyes linger on his frame when you start feeling a knot forming on the lower part of your abdomen. You gather all the strength left in your body to lift your arm and tangle your fingers with his silver locks, slightly pulling his head backwards. He hisses and fastens the tempo of his fingers, his palm now coming in contact with your clit. You know you aren’t going to last long. Your walls start pulsating around his skilful digits and the car stops at a red light which finally allows him to focus his attention on you for at least a few seconds.

“I can’t wait to feel you clenching around my dick baby”, he says and you can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm.

“Does my baby like dirty talk?”, he teases you and you pull his hair a tad stronger than before.

“I want you to come before the light turns green, you have approximately..”, he pauses to calculate the other traffic lights at the crossing, “...10-15 seconds?”, he adds driving his fingers in and out your pussy at a frenzy rhythm. You can’t handle the tension anymore.

“Baek, I can’t-...”, you swear you could cry with all this tension gathered on your lower body. You’re so close you can sense your orgasm.

“9..”, he says, his eyes piercing yours.

“Fuck, no I can’t”, you close your eyes, trying to control your body. It’ll be too much, you don’t want to come here in his car.

“Open your eyes and look at me. 6″, he counts and you do as you’re told. His palm hitting your sensitive clit is sending vibrations all the way to your head and you swear you wouldn’t be able to spell out your own name at this moment if you had to.

“I’m so close, I’m- Baek please...’, you whine and you can feel your walls clenching like crazy, swallowing his fingers. He places his other hand around your neck, squeezing gently and you’re a goner. Your orgasm crushes through you like fireworks and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down against his fingers, greedily trying to ride the explosive feeling out.

“That’s my girl”, he flashes you a satisfied smile and removes his fingers from your pussy at once. You grimace at the loss of contact but you’re too occupied trying to gather your thoughts and get yourself together, to pay further attention. The car is already on the move and before you can fathom what’s happening, he is parking in front of a building. Your eyes feel heavy but only at the thought of what’s coming, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten again. Baek steps out of the car and opens the door for you. You take a second to put your underwear back on, and you step outside the vehicle likewise. He locks it and starts walking towards the entrance of the block of flats before you, his hand in yours as your steps shadow his. You walk up the stairs and stop at the first floor. He stands outside a door and takes out his keys to unlock it when he turns to face you for the first time since he had you coming all over his fingers in his car.

“Before we get in I need to tell you something”, he warns and his eyes are examining your face. You step closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

“What is it Baek?”, your voice sounds so sweet and the way you say his name has him melting.

“If we do this, there’s no disappearing in the morning. There’s no going back to how things were. If you don’t want to stay and if you don’t want to be with me, leave now. This can’t be a one-time thing for me. That’s not what I want.”, he takes a deep breath as if he just gave the most important speech of his life. Your mouth hangs open at his sudden confession and you feel a stink of guilt that you’ve made him so uneasy; scared that you would run away from him and disappear. You grab his keys and unlock the door which opens wide in front of you. You step inside his flat and turn your head to face him.

“Do you prefer eggs or pancakes for breakfast?”, you ask him while taking off your shoes. He steps in and shuts the door behind him. Walking backwards you start unbuttoning your dress, “...I prefer something sweet in the morning to be honest”, you’re teasing and you reach the last button. You take another step backwards and you can feel his eyes burning on you. He is following each step you take, mirroring your movements now taking off his shirt. You let the dark fabric of your dress fall down your body and pool around your ankles. Baekhyun stops in his tracks, half naked and the lust in his eyes could make you come right there and then. You are about to take another step backwards when he nods you negatively.

“Don’t move”, the words come out as a soft command and you listen, standing there only in your lace black underwear, looking at him basically begging him to do something. He hasn’t even kissed you. He is the only man that has given you an orgasm without touching you anywhere else, not even a peck on the lips. He takes his time roaming his gaze along your body, his eyes resting on your breasts a second longer.

“I want you to kiss me”, you let out before you realise the words leaving your mouth. He focuses his attention back on your face and your body is about to burst from the need to feel him closer in any way. He is slowly walking towards you while taking off his trousers, leaving his body now covered only by his black boxers.

“Your entire face is blushing, you’ve been squeezing your thighs together, your breathing is unsteady and you’re giving me blowjob eyes”, hie finishes his sentence when standing a breath away from you. “...you want me to do more than just kiss you baby”, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and he smiles. He is so infuriating standing there, laughing at the misery he has put you in. You can’t let him play you like this.

“If you think you can..-”

“Shut up”, he says and you can’t tell who initiated it but his lips are on yours, kissing and biting as if your mouth is the last source of air and he needs it to survive. His right hand finds purchase on your ass, squeezing tightly pushing you closer to his body and his other hand grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You can feel your underwear sticking on your dump heat and you squeeze your legs together trying to give yourself some comfort. Baekhyun breaks the kiss, bringing his lips next to your ear.

“Is my baby wet?Again?”, he cooes and you wanna smack him across the face because he fucking knows you are.

“Yes I am, and if you don’t do something about it soon I’m gonna have to get myself off”, you lilt and turn to enter his room. It’s way cosier than you would have imagined, with a queen size bed in the middle. You seat at the edge of it and you open your legs as seductively as you can, covering the fact that they’re shivering in anticipation. He enters the room and his eyes are darker than before, his erection clearly visible through his boxers making your mouth water. You cock an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t move. That’s it, you can’t waste anymore time waiting for him to do something. You get up and get on your knees in front of him, removing his underwear with a single movement before you place your palm around his shaft.

“What the fuck Y/N”, he breathes out and his knees turn weak under your touch.

“I’m done waiting for you Byun. Took you 2 years to kiss me. I can’t imagine how long it’ll take you to fuck me”, he is about to protest when you lean forward, putting his dick in your mouth, your nose against his lower belly. His complain turns into a moan when he throws his head back, hands now landing in your hair, pulling slightly. Your lips move around his member, followed by your tongue, hand resting on his balls slightly massaging them. You lick a long stripe from the base of his dick, all the way to the end while pressing your lips around it and then release it with a slight ‘pop’. A string of saliva connecting your mouth with his tip. You open your eyes only to find his intense stare already on your frame, cheeks on fire and mouth agape in an attempt to inhale as much air as he can.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now? I swear I would do anything, anything you want If I could only see you like this everyday”, his voice cracks at the last words and he is slightly releasing his grip on your hair. Your hand still working its way up and down his dick, you tilt your head onwards to give small kitty licks on his tip. You take his hand and while serving him a cheeky smile you place it so that his fingers are cupping the upper part of your neck, right under your jaw. It takes him a moment to understand what you’re thinking and when it hits him, he lets out a desperate breath. You move your chin in front of his dick, lips almost touching his slit currently dripping with pre-cum.

“Apologise for being an asshole these last few months”, you spit.

“Fuck you”. The moment the words slip his lips you open your mouth, taking him so deep that you can feel his tip touching the back of your throat. He moans out your name and you feel your pussy pulsating in the sound. It takes all the self control you can manifest in order to not sneak your fingers inside your knickers and relieve some of the tension.

“I can feel my dick down your throat baby, agh fuck”, he hisses and pulls your hair as you take him as deep as you can once again only that this time you keep him there, swallowing again and again with his dick buried as deep as your throat can take it. A tear rolls down your face and your gag reflex is threatening to kick in, but you refuse to let go before he begs.

“Fuck Y/N, please. please stop, I don’t wanna cum. Fuck please, don’t-”, you release him and you snap him your best victory smile. after whipping your mouth with the back of your palm. You get up and move towards the bed, this time laying on top of it.

“I think I prefer you begging than apologising”, you tease and an unintentional giggle follows.

“You fucking bitch”, he spits jokingly and you burst into laughter but it doesn’t last long. The next moment he is hovering on top of you, lips on yours, hands cupping every curve of your body unable to hold back anymore. He is devouring your neck, jaw and moves lower to leave dark marks on your breasts. In a swing movement he unclips your bra, throwing it behind him next to his long forgotten underwear. Your underwear is next and before you know it, his face is resting between your legs, blowing tiny waves of air on your heat, driving you crazier if that was even possible at this point. He plants small kisses around the area, next to your folds while his hands are massaging the inside of your thighs. Your head falls back to meet his soft pillow and you moan out his name, incapable of hiding the mess he has made of you. Without any warning his soft tongue crushes on your burning area, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your head is now a foggy mess, hands tangled between his silver locks unconsciously pushing him against your pussy, desperate for more friction. He rests his tongue on your sensitive bud of nerves, dancing in slow circles when he enters two digits in you causing you to let out the most animalistic moan you’ve ever heard yourself producing. Your reaction was the confirmation he was seeking, as his tongue picks up its pace and so do his fingers, his name rolls off your tongue like a cursed poem, again and again until you can feel yourself falling off the edge. He lands a last kiss on your pubic bone as he slowly climbs up your body, now hovering above you. You open your eyes, realising you had them wide shut all this time, only to find his beautiful brown ones staring at you in the most loving way you’ve ever had anyone looking at you.

“So pretty”, he whispers and his fingers linger on your lips and make their way to your cheek where he leaves a shy kiss. You can feel his dick between your legs, yours thrown around his waist and you just stay there, in silence looking in each others eyes. You bring your hand to the side of his jaw only to pull him closer, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s not deep; it’s soft, and sweet, almost romantic. You break it after a few seconds and you rest your forehead on his. A word is about to escape your lips when he frantically drives his length inside you, hitting your g spot so hard that you almost choke at your own gasp.

“Baek, fuck”, you whine. He doesn’t say anything, he only pulls out a little bit and then thrusts back in, hitting that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. He does it again and again and again and you are a moaning mess, head thrown back, his diving in the crook of your neck, sucking, bitting, leaving purple spots in every area he can get his lips on.

“You want me to stop?”, he says out of breath without slowing down at the slightest. You attack his lips and the kiss is nothing like the one you just shared a few moments ago. It’s hungry and desperate and your tongues are fighting for dominance, both your mouths swallowing each others moans. You can feel your pussy throbbing around his dick and you know you wont last long. Baekhyun breaks the kiss but stays close so that his lips can still touch yours.

“Are you close baby? You want to cum? Want to come all over my dick?”, he breathes out and you moan out his name, paralysed under his touch.

“Baek I’m close-I’m gonna..”, a circular move of his hips almost brings you to the brink and you moan out cusses with no meaning. You clench around him once more and he lets out a loud groan.

“Y/N If you do that one more time I won’t be able to hold back. Please”, he pleads and you can see that he is trying to hold back so that you can finish first. His dick fucking into you at a relentless pace has your arms pulling his body closer to yours, nails digging in his back and you know these scratches will be visible for next few days.

“Baek I can’t hold it, please”, you moan out.

“Let go baby, let go. Cum for me”, he whispers next to your ear and there’s nothing in the world you want more than to feel him painting your insides with his orgasm.

“Cum inside Baek, Please, cum with me, ah-”, your orgasm hits you mid-sentence and you clench again and again as it keeps attacking your body in waves. After a couple thrusts you can feel him releasing into you as he lets his body collapse on top of yours, both of you battling to calm your breathing.

“I blame you for missing on the best sex I’ve ever had for the past two years”, you tease him softly and he chuckles. You raise your hand to place a stray hair behind his ear and you can’t help but notice the slight rosiness on his cheeks. ‘what?’, you ask flushing him your warmest smile.

“Be mine?”, his lets out as he rubs his nose against the tip of yours. Your heart skips a bit and a wave of warmth crushes through you, for you haven’t felt so happy in a long, long time.

“Hm, nope, thanks”, you giggle and you kiss him. He is taken aback by your reply, staring at you with eyes wide open like a frightened deer caught in the headlights.

“I’m joking baby”, you spit and burst into laughter.

“You bitch”, he laughs.

245 notes · View notes

slygirl666 · 4 years ago

Text

the thin line

Warnings: sex language all that shit

authors note: this is one of those drafts I promised because why not, not edited and not my favorite

words: 3453

You flopped onto the couch. Fred, who was nursing a glass of scotch, looked up at you shocked.

“Bad date, I reckon?” He looked sympathetic, a rare trait for him.

“The absolute worse,” you groaned, moving to lean on his shoulder. “First off he was constantly talking about his exes, yes multiple, and not even twenty minutes into the date he tried to put his hands up my skirt.”

“No,” Fred mock gasped. “You wait till at least the third date to let a man publicly get you off.”

You slapped his shoulder but couldn’t hold in the laughter what he said. “What about you? Huh, Fred, correct me if I’m wrong but you're going through a dry spell yourself.”

“This isn't about me Y/N.” he glared at you. You seemed to have struck a nerve.

It was true you and Fred have no secrets between you, having lived together for the last year. In the beginning you had often met women he kept around for a week at most, at times even playing the angry girlfriend when a one off overstayed their welcome. Fred often caught you doing the walk of shame through the joke shops door after your latest night out.

“I’m sorry your date sucked, love.” he stroked your arm soothingly. “If you’d like I can draw you a bath, get you some wine.”

You nodded, It was a ritual. Failed love life, he drew you a bath and let you relax; if he had a stressful day at work you would read to him (something he didn’t enjoy doing himself, but loved listening to) while he rested his head on your thigh.

Fred walked to your bathroom running the water, before moving to the kitchen getting you a glass and bottle. “Bubbles?”

“Always,” you shouted to him.

In a few minutes time Fred was at the doorway to get you, “come on princess Bath is ready.”

You smiled, moving to twist your hair up as you walked into the bathroom. Once you were undressed and in the tub, which was filled to the brim with bubbles, Frec came back in lowering the toilet seat so he could sit and talk with you.

“How many dates is that this time around?” Fred asked, pouring a glass for you.

“Three this week,” you sighed while drinking some of the bitter liquid. “I’m I that horrible to look at? I mean not to sound vain but I have a decent face, and my tits aren't half bad either.”

Fred choked on the drink he took. “I mean-”

“Don’t answer that, let me wallow in self pity for a few hours,” you rolled your eyes kicking up some water. “Tell me, anything new happening in the shop?”

Fred talked excitedly about his newest product. The two of you sat there until your skin started to prune. You shooed him out so you could get ready for the night.

Once again you found yourself on the couch with Fred's head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his ginger hair. He made small appreciative moans that you felt lower in your body than you should have.

“We should get some sleep Fred,” you smiled down to him, before shocking him off lightly to go to your own room.

You spent a couple hours tossing and turning, Pressing your legs together to create some form of much needed friction. It had been months since you’ve slept with someone and the fact that you needed to get laid was more evident in the fact that sounds your best friend made had you hot and bothered.

It was well past midnight, Fred had to be asleep, so you gave in.

“Fuck it.”

You allowed one hand to trail to your underwear teasing yourself through the fabric. You were already wet and frustrated but you didn't want to give in just yet. You trailed your pinky finger up and down your clothed heat applying the slightest bit of pressure over your clit.

You bit your lip to muffle the goan escaping your lips, before moving to your dresser pulling out a bullet vibrator. You clicked it on the sound of the light buzz increasing your ever growing excitement. You pressed it against your navel before guiding it down past the elastic of your underwear it was centimeters away from your center, a loud moan dripped from your lips as it touched that aching bundle of nerves.

A knock at the door interrupted your high. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yes Fred,” you clicked off the bullet, shoving it under your pillow. Just in time to see Fred peak his head through the door.

“I thought I heard something,” Fred sat on the edge of your bed. “Came to check on you, only to hear it come from your room. Are you alright?”

You refused to meet his eyes, the smirk that played on his lips told you he had some idea of what you were up to.

“I’m fine fred, thank you for your concern.” you tried to end the conversation, but you felt the mattress shift beside you as fred got comfortable.

“So Princess, what were you doing?” his voice was low in your ear, making your breath hitch.

“Nothing, Freddie,” you were breathless and he knew what he was doing. “I’m going to bed.”

You felt him pull you to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep.

The next morning you woke to Fred stirring awake, he was not a morning person so you struggled out of his grasp to the kitchen.

You put on a pot of coffee before jumping up to sit on the counter next to the machine. You sat there listening to the coffee drip, thoughts flooded with the cheeky bastard you woke up next to.

George came in through the door looking exhausted, he looked to you then to the slowly filling up pot of coffee.

“You are an angel, L/N.” George went to the covert to bring out three mugs. When it was finished he poured the dark liquid adding milk and sugar to the three mugs.

The smell of the coffee seemed to drag Fred out of bed. He walked into the kitchen groggily you picked up and offered him a mug that he took with a sleepy smile. “Morning Princess, Georgie.”

George quickly told Fred about the plans for the shop before the two men parted. Fred to get dressed, and George to their office to do paper work.

Fred came out of his room in a nice suit using his wand to do his tie as he walked towards the front door.

“See you tonight, Y/N.” he smiled at you, straightening his tie.

Being a Saturday meant you didn’t have to go into work for the weekend, you used your wand to clean up the mess you had all made before moving onto your room.

You debated upon making your bed, before moving the pillow you slept under. You were shocked to find your vibraitor not under your pillow but on the nightstand. There was one explanation you didn’t even want to think of.

You laid yourself down back onto the bed, deciding a few more hours of sleep would be best.

Fred came back after work to find you watching a tv show. He settled onto the couch.

“What are you watching?”

“Muggle tv show.” you took your eyes off the tv. “We should go out tonight.”

“Should we?” Fred kicked off his shoes, “does this have something to do with last night? Or maybe what I found under my pillow this morning?”

“Yes,” you answered plainly. “And to be fair you invited yourself into my room, what you found was your fault.”

You got up going to your room to find something to wear to a club. You found a black leather skirt and low cut tank that had lace framing your breast perfectly.

You walked out of your room to find Fred had discarded his jacket and suit vest leaving him in a pair of dark slacks, a lavender shirt and his tie.

You walked to him face to chest with him. You moved to loosen his tie and remove it, “you are still a bit too formal for clubbing. Undo the top tree buttons and roll your sleeves up.”

You instructed going to the shoe rack for your heels, before slipping them clumsily.

“Where are we going?”

“Muggle club, in London,” you put your arm through his. “A lot of uni students go there, so plenty of people our age.”

The two of you disapperated to the three broomsticks to go through to Muggle London.

You pulled Fred around till you found the place you were looking for, a place a muggle born friend of yours had shown you straight out of hogwarts.

You waited in the line of people until you were allowed in. the two of you made a B-line for the bar.

Fred ordered your drinks while you looked around the club, “tall blond, near the door. She’s checking you out.”

“You sure?” He looked in the direction you told him. “She’s pretty, might do for a night.”

He handed you your drink walking off to the direction of the blonde woman. You knew you wouldn’t see him for a while, possibly all night. You sat at a seat overlooking the dance floor, you saw a familiar flash of red hair under the neon lights as he danced jokingly with the girl you pointed out to him.

You sat back enjoying your people watching. “You look far too pretty to be sitting alone.”

You turned to see a man, he was handsome with dark curls and light eyes contrasting with the carmel color of his skin. “Something must be wrong, let me guess you were cheated on?”

“No,” you smiled at his assumptions.

“Girls night out and you are the DD,” you lifted your drink and he thought. “Heart broken?”

You tilted your head giving him a small smile, “it feels like it but i'm not sure, can someone who never had your heart break it?”

“That’s way too poetic for a girl in a trashy club,” he laughed. “Calen Collens.”

“Y/N L/N,” you offered him a hand to shake. “Would you like to dance?”

He smiled taking you to the dance floor, the movements the two of you made close and slow.

Soon his lips found your ear. “Be mine tonight, Y/N?”

That was too much, too forward. Sure she let him flit and held him close but the fact he would be so forward. “I’m going to go to the restroom.”

You ran as fast as you could in heels, you found Fred pressed against a wall with the blonde on his lips.

“I'm going home,” you walked past them out into the cold night tears threatening to fall. It was dark and Muggle London wasn’t the safest palace at night, you just had to find somewhere secluded.

There were footsteps behind you, you ducked into an alleyway hoping they would stop. They didn't. You felt a hand grab your forearm and you drew your wand.

“Merlin, it's me,” you were spun around to be face to face with Fred. his eyes softened when he saw the tears on your face, he brought a hand to wipe at them. “Princess lets get you home.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, bringing his own wand out taking the two of you home.

* * *

The two of you were on the couch you had put on a movie and were resting with your head on Fred’s chest. He stroked your hair, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I met a man, he was charming and nice. But the moment that he asked if i could be his tonight I broke.” you laughed humorlessly, “i complain about the lack of sex in my life, hell you almost caught me getting off. Yet a hot man approached me and I had a breakdown like no other, and then I ruined your chance for a bit of fun. It’s pathetic.”

“No it isn’t,” Fred sighed leaning his cheek onto your head. “You just aren’t one for casual nights.”

“It would be easier if i was,” you rolled your eyes. “I also want trust and respect, but that's a bit much I guess.”

“It really isn’t Princess,” he lifted your chin to face him. “I think that's admirable.”

Your eyes met his, his hazel ones flicking from your lips to your eyes. You brought a hand to trace his jaw line, something you’ve done many times before but felt different now.

You felt his breath first, his nose bumping yours. He was giving you time to back away, you didn’t want to.

He pressed his lips to yours, they were softer than you could imagine. You brought your hands to his neck as his hands went for your waist.

You pulled him down guiding him on top of you.

“Room?” Fred breathed into the kiss, You let out a soft hum in response.

Fred guided you up, once you were on your feet he pulled you into him, leaning down to give you a breathtaking kiss.

He pulled away slowly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You let out a moan, he pulled you by the hand as he rushed to his room.

“Are you sure about this?” He was hesitant once this line was crossed it could never be forgotten.

“We can freak out tomorrow,” you pushed him onto his bed. “Right now take your clothes off.”

“Gladly,” he moved to take off his shirt. You watched appreciatively as his arms flexed.

You sat with legs on either side of his waist, your fingertips tracing the exposed skin. His lips met your neck with light nips as he tugged on your tank top. You leaned back allowing him to pull it over your head.

You shivered at the sudden exposure to the cold air, Fred stared at you in awe. His hands came to cup your breast, the rough pads of his thumbs traced your nipple teasingly.

Your breath hitched and he threw you a cheeky smirk before bringing his tongue out and flicking one.

You moaned at the contrast of the cold air and the heat of his mouth. Every movement he made every lick, nip and suck felt expertly practiced.

His hands fell back to your hips using them to push you off him and have you land with your back pushed into the mattress. He kissed down your navel before making eye contact with you.

“You are fucking perfect.” he brought a hand under the elastic of your sleep shorts, his eyes went wide in surprise. “No underwear? You princess are in trouble.”

He pulled your shorts to your knees before continuing to trail his lips down to your center. His right hand following his lips while his left kept you in place.

He lifted his head as he brought his fingers to your core, letting out a breathy chuckle when you moaned. He put two of his fingers into you. He put the two both into his mouth, he hummed smirking at your reaction.

“Okay, Fred, that- that was hot.” you let out an airy laugh completely off guard. He kissed your inner thigh, the tip of his nose teasing where you want him the most. “Freddie-”

His name shifted to a moan as he trailed his tongue to your entrance.

A mew left your lips as he worked the flat of his tongue around up and down your entrance. He stopped the movement to allow his fingers back inside you. He got a bit bolder using his teeth to lightly nip at your clit. You moved your hands into his hair back arching as he continued to allow his tongue to flick at it, letting his teeth work in sync as well.

You gripped his hair slightly with a tug. “Fuck, Princess.”

You leaned up meeting his eyes, the sight of him between your legs, his mouth a mess, his torso exposed was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “Are you ready? because I absolutely am.”

“Just be inside of me freddie,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Got up to remove his pants

The anticipation that you felt watching him stroke himself was insane. You watched him in what felt like slow motion as he pumped his cock, a look of blissful relief crossed his handsome features.

The trob between your legs felt unbearable, “hurry up Fred, please.”

“Needy thing aren't you?” he chuckled, moving his hand back to line himself up to you. When he finally entered you you moaned happy to feel him.

* * *

You woke up sore tangled in sheets that aren't yours,as the weight of the bed shifted. Fred moved to find his clothes.

“Morning, Freddie.” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t the first time you woke up in his bed but this time was extraordinarily different. You found your shorts discarded on the floor before moving to pull them on, you felt his eyes watching you. “What time is it?”

“Seven,” you turned to find him sitting in just a pair of boxers. He looked lost so you found your way back to him standing between his legs. “We’ll talk after I finish up at the shop, right?”

You moved your fingers to trace his worried face. “I’ll be right here like I always am.”

You threw on a shirt and went for the door.

“George will be suspicious if we were out at the same time, I’ll make you coffee.” you walked out going to your own room to throw on a robe.

When you put coffee grounds in the machine and clicked it on George walked through the door, pulling you in for a side hug. “If i weren’t engaged I would marry you L/N, Freddie should.’

“Angelina ban coffee again?” you laughed finding three tall mugs for all of you.

“If I didn't love her or the child that we made I would leave because of that coffee ban.” he sighed dramatically.

“You don't mean that, shut up and get the cream from the fridge,” you rolled your eyes watching the drip of the coffee finish.

Fred emerged from his own room with a sleepy grin, faker. You poured him a cup with all the fixings before handing it to him. “Morning Princess, sleep well?”

He winked at you over the brim of his cup. “No, something had me rolling around all night, nothing I can't fix.”

He laughed as George looked between the two of you, “I don't get you two.” he walked out the door down to the office.

Fred pulled you close, “ tonight?”

“tonight,” you tiptoed to kiss his nose.

He smiled with a boyish charm and walked out the door with a small hop in his step. Now was the time to overthink everything.

Was it a mistake?

Did he hate it?

Were you bad?

Would you guys ever be the same?

You went into the kitchen and pulled out Molly’s baking cards. If you were going to talk may as well have something sweet while you were at it. With the wave of your wand music filled the room from the radio. You moved your hips along with the beat. Looking through the cards you decided on her tentacle tart recipe, not finding everything you went out to the store.

You spent your day doing small things, organizing your stuff in the bathroom, doing your laundry and reading two books.

When the door to the apartment opened you jumped up from the couch. “Fred.”

“Y/N, how was your day?” you watched as your usually overly confident best friend shuffled his feet bashfully.

“Sit down Fred,” you laughed. “We don’t have to be awkward, let's be grown ups now freddie. Tentacle tart?”

He nodded letting a carefree chuckle escape him. “Please, so we had sex.”

“I'm pretty sure we were both present, what should we do now? Pretend it never happened-?

“No, I don't want to pretend it never happened.”

“Neither of us have dated any since our school days, and we live in such close quarters I don’t think casual will suit us.”

“We don’t have to label it you know, we can just be us.” Fred finally met your eye, his usual smirk finally finding his face. “Bet mum would be happy.”

“We could just let them figure it out,” you chuckled. “Ginny told me the whole family has money on us.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fan fiction #Harry Potter

112 notes · View notes

rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

An Artful Revenge pt. 3 (Feysand)

Part of the Damnation Series.

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

~Feyre~

I spend three days figuring out what to do with the phone number.

On Day 1, I decided I’d text, not call. It was the cowardly thing to do, but the thought of him answering the phone and putting me on the spot made me want to run and hide.

Day 2 had been plain ole procrastination. I’d gone to the museum on the hope he’d be there, but like he’d said, that really was a horrible way of communicating.

Day 3, I decided, was the day of reckoning. I’d text him today.

Shit, did billionaires even text?

Maybe I should send a properly-formatted memo instead.

And what should I even write? Hey seemed too casual. Hi, maybe? How’s your day going? Wanna make out?

Gods, I’m bad at this.

After another two hours of staring at a blank screen, I send: Dinner tonight?

Then, because I realize I’m a fucking idiot: It’s Feyre, btw.

I throw my phone across the room in embarrassment, and put my head in my hands like that’ll unsend the message, then jump the couch like a hurdle when I hear a ding.

And promptly frown when I read: If you’re going to ask me out, you have to call me like an adult.

I can practically hear his the smile in his voice, and I grit my teeth in annoyance.

But I call him anyway.

“Look who grew up,” he says in lieu of hello, voice gravelly and amused.

“Oh, shut up. Do you want to buy me dinner or not?”

He laughs at that, the sound making my lips twitch. “I would love to buy you dinner. But only because I can’t bear the thought of you eating Ramen for the third time this week.”

Narrowing my eyes and glancing around like a fugitive, I try to figure out how the hell he knows I’ve been surviving on reheated, soggy noodles for the past week.

I don’t have the chance to ask before he declares, “I’ll pick you up at six. Oh, and check your doorstep.”

The line clicks dead ominously, and I glance suspiciously at my front door.

Tiptoeing over, I peek outside, eyes going wide when I see a package leaning against the brick side of the building.

How long has that been here? I got the mail yesterday, so it had to come today, but... how did he know I’d call today? Is he Batman or something?

I grab the package, roll my eyes at the big red bow on top, and put it on the counter. Then I pick it back up and shake it like that’ll tell me what he’s up to.

But the curiosity starts to kill me, and I rip into the pretty packaging like a feral animal, unable to wait another second. A shiny black box is inside, and I flip the top open, eyebrows flying up when I look inside.

The dress is blood red and looks fitted and beautiful. But that isn’t what surprises me. It the thin, lacy underwear with a note attached. A note that reads, in Rhysand’s slashy, distinct handwriting, These are optional.

The feminist in me flares, and I decide right then and there to make him eat those words.

When six o’clock comes around, I’m prepped and ready for battle.

My hair is done, my makeup pristine, and the dress is hugging every curve and propping my boobs up to sit nicely on my chest. I don’t typically give myself compliments, but I look damn good. And more than that, I feel good.

I also don’t typically wear bold makeup, but I’ve thrown that rule out the window.

My lips match the dress, a dark, ruby red that makes my skin look pale in comparison. I’m complete shit at eyeliner, but I put enough mascara on to frame my eyes and make the blue pop against the red of my lips and dress.

I look like a mix between a pinup girl and a vampire, basically.

Knowing how punctual he is, as soon as the clock on my phone reads 7:00, I swing the door open and smile broadly.

Rhysand pauses, fist halfway to where the door was, and uses a long moment to take me in. His eyes linger on my lips, the exposed cleavage, the sweep of my hips. His mouth drops open slightly, but before he can speak, I step out and lock the door behind me.

“The problem with your chauvinistic little plan to tell me what to wear, Rhysand,” I tell him, slipping the lace he’d gifted me into his pants pocket and accidently feeling him up, “Is that now you know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“It was a flawed plan, I admit.” He swallows, eyes narrowing on my hips like he can sense if I’m telling the truth. “But the important thing is to not stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reasons for existing.”

I roll my eyes. “Quoting Einstein now to make yourself feel smart?”

He smiles at that. “Stop calling me on my shit, Feyre. Let’s go.”

I take his hand, happy with myself for winning this round, and let him pull me down the street. He stops in front of a dark, speedy looking car. “Beefcakes busy tonight?”

He gives me a strange look, then laughs loudly. “His name is Rolando.”

Still chuckling, he opens the door for me before walking around to his side. The car’s low to the ground and dark inside, and it makes a loud, rumbling sound when he turns it on.

He grins, almost like he can’t help it, and I laugh. “Boys and their toys.”

Rhysand pulls out of the spot smoothly, driving slowly because of the traffic. He reaches over and puts a hand on my thigh, just below the hem of the dress.

It’s warm and wonderful and casual enough to not mean anything, but I’ve made it my goal tonight to make him cry like a baby, so I swat it away. “Don’t even start.”

“Start what?”

I look over at him and smile sweetly. “Trying to seduce me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I link our fingers together and rest them on the center consol. “Where are we going?”

“New York.”

My mouth drops open. “Um, what? That’s like a twelve hour drive.”

“We’re not driving.”

I gesture around us with my free hand. “Yes, we are.”

“You are such a little smartass tonight. We are currently driving, but we aren’t driving to New York. And before you ask, the answer is yes.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “To what question?”

“If it’s my plane.”

I drop his hand and throw both of mine up in frustration. “Okay what gives? Did you stick a chip in my head or something?”

He smiles, pulling onto the interstate smoothly. Even though it’s not as crowded, he still drives slower than I’d expected when I saw the car. “Your face is very easy to read.”

“It is not,” I argue, my face instantly finding insult with that statement.

“Yes, it is. I’ll prove it to you. Tell me two truths and a lie, and I bet I can guess which one is the lie.”

“What’s the bet?”

He takes his eyes off the road to give me a very male look. I narrow my eyes, picking up on the innuendo in his gaze, and he laughs.

“And if I win?” I ask, taking in his profile while he drives and trying not to sigh at how handsome he is. Such a nice jawline.

“I’ll answer three of the questions you’re dying to ask.”

Oh, he knows me too well for this. His smile grows because he knows I’m a fish gladly swallowing the hook, but still asks, “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

I take a few minutes to think of facts about myself.

“I had a pet goat when I was little, my best friend’s a lesbian, and I think Mick Jagger is sexy.”

They’re the three most random things I could think of, things he’d have absolutely no way of knowing.

But the damn bastard still says immediately, “Your best friend isn’t a lesbian.”

My mouth drops open because technically, she’s bi, and I make a strangled sound of disbelief that makes him grin. “I told you. You’re a bad liar. Shame, I could tell you really wanted to ask those questions.”

“I hate you,” I tell him, beyond annoyed myself.

He pulls off the highway and turns, leading us out to a dusky private airfield I--shockingly--never knew was behind the airport. Rhysand slows to a stop and looks over at me, then leans slowly to press his lips to mine.

It’s warm and sweet and soft, but I feel it all the way to my toes.

He ruins the moment by murmuring, “I’ll take my reward later, by the way.”

I shove him over to his side of the car and climb out, then realize I don’t know where to go. We’re surrounded by expensive looking planes, one of which is obviously owned by the billionaire trying to get in my pants, but I don’t know which one.

I glance back over my shoulder at him, and he smirks and points at the one to our right.

“Are you seriously taking me to New York?”

I kind of thought he’d been joking, but he nods. “My favorite restaurant is there.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“More like hungry,” he argues, holding out a hand to gesture up the open steps leading in the plane.

I stay where I am, casting a curious glance up the stairs. It looks nice and shiny in there, but no matter how nice and shiny, it’s basically a steel death trap.

Even though I can feel his eyes on me and desperately want to hide this fact about myself, I can’t step up.

And because he’s an observant little asshole, he notices. “You’re afraid to fly.”

“Um, well, not afraid-”

“You’ve never flown before.”

I nod, blushing from embarrassment. I mean, it’s obvious he flies all the time if he has his own plane, and I’m small town enough to have never even been in one.

“Don’t be embarrassed. My first time flying was three years ago, Feyre.”

My face must look doubtful, because he nods. “I’m serious. I never saw the point until a business rivalry made me feel inadequate. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. We can go somewhere else.”

He’s sweet to offer, but... I want to go. I’ve never been to New York, and when am I going to get an offer like this again?

“I’m... uh... are you sure about this thing?” I reach out and grab the handle of the stairs, shaking it to see if it’ll fall off or something.

“Yes.”

There’s no argument, no doubt in his voice. And I know it’s irrational, but-

Strong arms wrap around my waist and heft me up, and I yelp as Rhysand flings me over his shoulder and my head comes very close to his ass. “What are you doing?”

“Kidnapping you. You obviously want to go, and I’d hate to miss the reservations.”

“Rhysand, wait, hold on a second.” He ignores me entirely and walks up the stairs and inside the plane, even stopping to shake hands with the pilot. I’m dropped in a plush chair, and before I can object, a seatbelt is around my waist.

“See?” He gestures around. “Like a living room.”

“In the sky!”

He shrugs like that’s an irrelevant detail, looking back over his shoulder and gesturing again to the pilot. I peek around him to see the door seal closed, then the gentle-looking man disappears in the control room.

“He’s the one flying this thing?” I mean, he looked competent enough, but...

I start freaking out.

Rhysand slips his jacket off, throwing it over the back of a seat before sliding into it, gentle grace and luxury lining his every movement. His eyes roam over me slowly, and I can tell he’s about to try and distract me before he even says, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I pant back, gripping the arms of the seat with white knuckles.

Plan A having failed, he swiftly moves onto B. “Are you really not wearing underwear?”

B, I have to admit, does a decent job of momentarily distracting me from my inevitable death. “I thought you said I’m easy to read.”

He smirks. “Tell me anyway. I won the bet, remember?”

“I remember you never specified the terms, so-”

I cut myself off as the plane starts rolling, and if I had half a mind to care, I’d worry my painted nails are about to bust through the soft leather of his chair.

I feel like fucking throwing up or stabbing him or running far away or crying.

Rhysand, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, sprawled casually in the seat across from me.

The plane makes a slow turn, then pauses. Apprehension sweeps over me, and I groan and look at the ceiling.

“Allow me to rectify that horrible mistake. My prize is... a kiss.”

Despite the nausea, I raise a brow and looks at him suspiciously. “You want to kiss me? That’s it?”

“Mmhm. Right now. Close your eyes.”

“But the plane-”

He shrugs and waves a hand. “Just close your eyes, love.”

I shut up and close my eyes, slightly pursing my lips and waiting patiently. I hear a shuffle, feel the warmth of his body come close to mine. My breath draws shallow in anticipation, goosebumps appearing on my arms.

There’s another pause, and I’m about to open my eyes to see where he went, but then the plane attempts to break the sound barrier and takes off, and I’m thrown back against the seat.

At the same time, I feel a kiss on the inside of my knee.

My eyes fly open to find Rhysand kneeling in front of me, hands bracketing my thighs. I open my mouth to say something, but he growls, “Close. Your. Eyes.”

The frank demand in his voice gives me no option, and as soon as I do, he kisses my thigh again in reward.

“Now spread your legs.”

The plane goes faster and faster. “Rhysand...”

He sighs, a long-suffering sound that makes me giggle as I once again do what he wants. I mean, really, why was I even hesitating?

It’s obvious what he’s doing, and even though it’s not safe in the slightest, I’m well on board with the idea.

His hands move to my knees, then glide up, pushing the tight hem of the dress up. He’s pressing open-mouth kisses to my thighs as he goes, and then his hands slide up another inch, and my lack of undergarments are revealed.

“Fuck, Feyre,” he says, like my going commando was my idea, not his.

I’m about to point that out when he leans forward and put his mouth on me. At the same time the plane lifts off the ground.

I’m torn between panic and ecstasy. The combination makes me light headed, and a rush of adrenaline hits my system, making me gasp.

I try to sit up straighter in the seat, but he’s holding my hips in a death grip and pulls them the other way. I slide down, thighs falling further open. He slips his shoulders under them, completely in control of the situation, and all I can do is grip his hair and enjoy the ride.

His mouth is insistent and confident against me and makes me finally stop thinking about dying in a fiery plane crash.

He slides a hand up my thigh, somehow able to hold me still with just one, then presses a finger inside me. I groan and pull on his hair, squirming underneath his grip, but it’s useless.

Rhysand holds tight, his strong hands preventing me from moving, as he devours me completely. I make a helpless sound, but he doesn’t take mercy.

I think, instead of the crash, I’ll die from this instead.

I think I’ll just burn and burn and burn from the fire he’s ignited in my blood.

His name slips past my lips, and he pauses, then becomes even more demanding. I’m being adored, worshipped, eaten like a ice cream sundae.

Another finger slips inside me as his mouth sucks softly, and I come with a cry, practically strangling him with my thighs.

He keeps moving, kissing me softly, until my thighs go limp and I fall back into the seat with a huff.

He leans back on his heels, hands braced on my thighs, and runs his tongue across his lower lip in a way that makes me almost come again. Realization of what he just did courses through me, and I blush, well aware that my lady bits are still on display.

“Flying isn’t so bad after all.”

Rhysand laughs, pressing one last kiss to my knee before gently pulling my dress back into place. Then he sits back in his seat, crosses his legs, and looks me over slowly.

“Well, that was definitely a faulty plan, because now I don’t even want to go to dinner.”

“No?”

“No.”

The heat in his gaze sends a thrill through me, because suddenly, I don’t even care about New York. I want him to land this plane and take me home and give me a repeat of what just happened.

But now it’s abundantly clear that if I went home with him, I wouldn’t walk out with my sanity. So, once again a coward, I deflect. “Well, too bad. I’m hungry.”

He says something I can’t quite hear, the way he looks at me tells me not to ask.

“How long is the flight?”

He checks his watch. “About another half hour.” My mind wanders to very... creative ways we could fill that time, and I blush again. “I’m curious to know what you’re thinking about over there.”

His smile says he knows, so I look him over like he often does me and say softly, “I’m thinking about returning the favor.”

His eyes flare, his mind easily following mine, but he maintains his composure. “A half hour isn’t nearly enough time if we start going down that road.”

It takes me more than a second to figure out how to breathe again. “How much time would we need?”

“Days.”

Oh, holy hell.

I’m about to tell him to keep us in the air that long, but he winks and looks away, then presses a button on a remote I hadn’t noticed he was holding. A classy looking woman in a red skirt and matching blouse comes out of the cockpit, wheeling an ice bucket and holding two glasses.

“Good evening,” she says quietly, looking at me kindly but avoiding eye contact with Rhysand entirely as she pours us both champagne. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Then she’s gone.

I’m about to sip from my glass, but he reaches out and switches his with mine.

Immediately, I steal my original glass back. “I’m not getting poisoned because you pissed her off.”

“What makes you think I pissed her off?”

“She couldn’t even look at you.”

His lips twitch. “I know you’ll find this strange, but some people find me intimidating.”

I scoff, a very ladylike sound, and take a gulp of the champagne. Noticing he still hasn’t drank any of his, I take his glass and sip from it with a raised brow. “Are you going to let me die alone?”

He rolls his eyes and calls me a smartass but drinks from his glass anyway.

“Why are you always so sure someone’s trying to kill you, anyway?”

There’s a long pause, and he seems to be debating if he’s actually going to tell me before he responds, “I have a lot of enemies, Feyre.”

He sounds so unusually serious, like he’s just told me something important.

“I don’t,” I tell him with a sigh, suddenly irritated with my normal life. “I think I’ve grown a bit boring, actually. No one hates me, and I never even have to worry about being poisoned.”

Rhysand chuckles and gives me a strange look. “You’re not boring. And never worrying about being murdered isn’t a terrible thing.”

“I’m boring. I can’t even lie properly.”

“That,” he laughs, “I can’t argue with.”

“New game: I say something, and you guess if it’s a lie. No betting this time.”

He sighs but nods and gives me a get on with it gesture.

Keeping my face completely neutral and making sure my fingers aren’t twitching or any other obvious give away, I say, “I have two sisters.”

“True.”

I narrow my eyes, but take a deep breath and keep my cool. “I tried to learn Italian last summer.”

“Also true, but I’m willing to bet it went poorly.”

A laugh escapes me at that. “It was horrible. I’m complete shit at the accent.” I try to think of other facts about myself and come up short. Gods, I really am boring, aren’t I?

“I’ve never been in love.”

His eyes scan my face. “That’s a lie.”

“It is,” I confirm, looking at his chin and wondering why I even said that in the first place.

He ducks to catch my gaze. “Your ex?”

We’re getting into dangerous territory--even I know you don’t discuss your ex-boyfriend this early in the game--but he doesn’t seem upset or stressed or jealous. He looks... curious. So I shrug and nod.

“What happened?”

Taking another large gulp of champagne, I say, “He wanted to get married, I didn’t. I loved him, but... he was older and wanted something I just wasn’t ready to give him. And then he moved, and I got over it.”

Rhysand’s silent for a beat, a muscle in his jaw twitching, then nods like he understands. “Older, huh? You have a type.”

I laugh at the thought of the two of them being anything alike. “You couldn’t look more different from my ex. And you refused to actually tell me how old you are. ”

He sighs. “I’m seven years older than you.”

Quick math has never been my strong suit, but I figure it out eventually, my mouth dropping open when I do. “You’re twenty-eight?”

He nods in confirmation, and I proceed to lose my mind.

“Just twenty-eight? As in two eight, twenty-eight?”

Another nod, along with a very strange look.

I realize I’m acting just a little bizarre, so I shake my head to clear it and say, “You’re... very impressive, Rhysand.”

When I’m twenty-eight, I’ll probably be just another starving artist, looking for a museum to hire me as a curator and begging people to buy my paintings. I’ll be broke and will have developed an allergy to Ramen from how much I’ll be eating it.

I definitely won’t be a gazillionaire with a private art collection and enough real estate to own half the city of Chicago.

He shrugs uncomfortably, like my bewilderment isn’t deserved, and I can’t resist the temptation to tease him. “You also suck at taking compliments.”

“Yes,” he admits. “But so do you.”

“What? No, I don’t.”

He smiles and braces his elbows on his knees and immediately proceeds to prove me wrong. “You’re far more impressive than me. You’re gorgeous and talented and have a way of looking at the world that makes me feel like I haven’t lived a day of my life properly.”

I blush furiously and look at the ceiling of our death trap, wildly uncomfortable all of a sudden. “You’ve proved your point.”

Rhysand laughs, then glances at his watch. “We should be on the ground soon.”

Almost like he spoke it into being, the plane dips and a mechanical whirring sound meets my ears. Is that supposed to happen? “Oh, fucking hell, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“You did try to poison me.”

I give him a nasty look and mutter, “So fucking ridiculous, flying to another city for dinner. Next time, we’re going to Taco Bell.”

He rolls his eyes at my antics, unbuckling and moving to sit next to me. His hand slides into mine, warm and comforting, and I grab onto it like child child running from the boogeyman. His thumb runs over the back of my hand, and I sigh, leaning to put my head on his shoulder.

“Thanks for the dress,” I finally say, remembering my manners.

“It looks good on you. Like I said, I have excellent taste.”

I smile. “I’m waiting on dinner to confirm or deny that.”

Suddenly, there’s a large sound and a bump, then I’m leaning forward as the plane comes screeching to a halt. I press my eyes shut and squeeze the shit out of his hand, but he just keeps running his thumb along my skin, silently comforting me.

The plane comes to an eventual stop, and I peek open my eyes to see him grinning down at me. “Welcome to New York, Feyre darling.”

A week after our soiree to the Big Apple, I decide I have a problem.

I like Rhysand way too much to have only known him three weeks.

He’s all I fucking think about.

Which, I guess, isn’t a problem. Being swept off your feet is every little girl’s dream. But it’s getting harder and harder to resist sleeping with him.

I’ve been wined and dined and given searing kisses that make my toes curl, not to mention the whole incident on the airplane, but we haven’t actually had sex. Honestly, I thought I’d cave on the way back from New York, but I ended up passing out in a food coma before the plane even took off, my head nestled in the happy spot between his shoulder and neck.

I definitely want to sleep with him, so much so it makes my eyes cross just thinking about it, but it just scares me how much I like him.

And I know sleeping with him would just make me like him more.

I need a breather, need to get my distance and keep my head or whatever the saying is. I need to calm the fuck down, basically.

So I, being a mature adult, decide to avoid him.

I make it five days.

Five days of missed calls and intentionally unseen smoke signals.

Then he apparently decides to stoop to my level and figure out how to text, because five days after the most extravagant dinner date of my life, my phone dings.

If you ignore one more of my calls, I’m going to buy Dancers in Blue and light it on fire.

I spend exactly eighty-three seconds debating if he’s serious. I mean... surely not, right? I know he’s richer than sin, but he wouldn’t just burn fifty million dollars.

Right?

Rational thought and self preservation be damned, I pick up the phone when it starts to ring.

“That, Rhysand, was emotional manipulation.”

“Yes, it was.” He’s shameless. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.” I don’t know why I bother lying, since I’m apparently such shit at it, but I do. “I’ve been busy.”

Yes, very busy with watching nine movies in the past four days.

“With...?”

Inspiration dawns. “My senior project.”

“Oh, really?” A nervous sweat breaks out across my back at the knowing tone of his voice, and I begin to doubt my genius. “What’s the subject?”

“Uh, well-”

“Now that we’ve reestablished you’re a horrible liar, tell me what’s really going on.”

If he were here, I’d strangle him.

Or maybe kiss him.

“I need a few days,” I mutter, upset with myself for being an open book.

“Why?”

His simple question makes me think he doesn’t want space. Is he as into me as I am to him? Is that even possible?

“Because I like you,” I say honestly, having learned my lesson about lying.

Rhysand’s quiet for a long moment, then he chuckles. “I see the issue.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Answer the door.”

What? “There’s no one at the door.”

At least there shouldn’t be, because I didn’t invite anyone over.

“Incorrect.”

Eyes already narrowed, I stomp over and fling the door open, practically ripping it off its hinges in my frustration. He’s leaning against the brick stoop, looking sexier than socks on a rooster in a midnight blue shirt and black slacks, smiling at me.

“You are not allowed to avoid me just because you like me,” he states, brushing past me without invitation.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

He kisses my brow. “I like you, too.”

“Okay, but-”

“And I have cake.” He holds up a clear box, allowing me a glimpse of the fluffy chocolate deliciousness inside.

It’s almost annoying how well he knows me, because chocolate cake is my vice.

I try to think of another protest that won’t que him in to why I’m actually scared, but he cuts me off because of course, he already knows. “I won’t touch you, I promise. Even if you ask.”

My lips twitch. “Even if I ask?”

“Even if you beg,” he states with confidence, strolling into the kitchen like he owns the place. He looks around, face not giving a single detail away as he takes in everything.

Thankfully, I’m not a slob, so the place isn’t dirty, but it’s definitely not a penthouse apartment.

It’s a tiny old townhouse, barely big enough to even be called that. The water is lukewarm, never hot, and I had to just take the smoke detector out of the ceiling so it would stop beeping.

It’s part of my scholarship, and compared to where most college students live, it’s a dream, so I don’t complain.

His eyes roam over half-done canvases and art supplies, pictures of my sisters, random shit I don’t have the heart to throw away.

I sigh and bump him aside with a hip so I can grab two forks, then motion for him to follow me. We head into the living room, and I flop onto the couch dramatically, then motion for him to hand me the cake.

Sitting next to me with far more class, he flips open the lid and hands me a fork. “Chocolate mousse.”

“I’m going to be three hundred pounds if you keep feeding me,” I warn as I take a bite, not at all concerned with that possibility.

“I think you’ll be fine.”

I grab the remote and flip through movies, eventually sighing in defeat and putting on Scarface.

“Seriously?” he asks around a mouthful of cake, fighting a smile.

“It’s my favorite movie, and nothing good’s on anyway.”

He looks at me like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across, but settles down and flings an arm around me. Fighting the urge to tell him this breaks his whole ‘no touching’ rule, I snuggle into his side.

Maybe it’s the cake, or the fact that I’m horrible at staying awake through a movie past eight o’clock, but I drift off to sleep, my face pressed into his chest.

~Rhysand~

I finish the movie--fucking Scarface--even though she fell asleep a while ago.

She’s soft and warm against me, body relaxed into mine without an ounce of hesitation.

She tried to hide it, but I know why she didn’t want to see me.

She’s falling for me.

Which, technically, is the plan.

Technically, everything is going great.

Except she’s fucking worming her way into my heart too. Which is so goddamn annoying, it makes me want to strangle her. Or maybe kiss her.

Being with her is... a wonderful kind of torture.

She’s beautiful and charming and doesn’t look at me with an ounce of fear in her bright blue eyes, but it’s also like holding up a mirror that shows me the worst parts of myself.

I hear her laugh and am reminded of the last time I laughed and loved freely. I see her beautiful soul and compare it to the bleakness of my own.

I look at her blind innocence and force myself to not care that I’ll be the one who robs her of it.

Maybe that’s why I finish the movie. I give myself two hours to sit here and enjoy her company, two hours where she doesn’t hate me or curse the day I was born.

But then the credits role, and I have to pull my head our of my ass and get on with it, no matter how much I don’t want to.

Moving slowly so she doesn’t stir, I lift her into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck, fingers playing in the hair at my nape, and sighs happily.

I wish she wouldn’t do shit like that.

I wish she was heartless and cruel and cold.

I make my way up the creaky stairs to her room, then put her on the unmade bed, the covers horribly messy around her. The moonlight coming through the open window illuminates her skin and allows me to see how vulnerable she looks.

She’s in tiny little shorts that shouldn’t be legal, and a thin white shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide what’s underneath. Her hair’s a mess around her, her lips are parted, and there’s a calm, peaceful look on her face.

It’s perfect.

It’s horrible.

Taking a deep breath and running a hand through my hair, I tell myself not to care.

But as I take out my phone and snap a picture, my hands still shake.

And as I type the message I’ve been mentally drafting for years, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

But as much as I hate myself for it, a feeling of victory shoots through me as I hit send. Revenge, it seems, really is sweet.

And I’m just getting started.

___________________________________________

Part 4

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @alpha-omegas @joyceortiz13 @sapphic-beauty @meowsekai @ahappyhistorianreader @courtofjurdan @acalypsot @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @bamchickawowow @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#feysand #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #feyre x rhys #rhysand #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

161 notes · View notes

loudsuitlover · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry XIX. Cuarto movimiento: La realidad

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Preview

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

BLUE’S POV

Coco and I are late. When we enter the café, I tell the waitress Olivia’s name and she leads us to our table. The three of them are already sitting on the table and Ollie smiles relieved at our presence. She might be really hungry or maybe she just doesn’t know what to do about Marie and Jason.

They had a fight the other day. Apparently, it had to do with David Dick. Marie said something bad about it, also known as the truth, but Jason said she shouldn’t be talking about him to people who didn’t even known them. I have stayed out of this. No one has asked for my opinion either, thank God, so I’m just on backstage, waiting for them to make up.

The second Coco and I sit down, Ollie waves the waitress. She tells us we can think what we want while they order but I already know what I want anyway. A strawberry milkshake and the Nutella croissant. Coco orders a waffle and a vanilla milkshake and Marie gets surprised at our quickness. I just smile at her.

I tell them about the wedding while we eat and they keep swooning and making comments that make me blush. I show them the hundreds of pictures we got, for his mum and his cousin Laura had been stealing shots at us and also the photographer of the wedding thought it important to get pictures of the bride’s brother.

“Jesus Christ, he looked good.” Ollie says.

I laugh and she gives me a naughty smile.

“So do you, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No, seriously, Blue” Coco insists “you looked like a movie star.”

I don’t know how many times Coco’s seen the photos but she’s always been the supportive sister and ever since she’s in love, it’s just been something else. She’s so happy she has enough bliss to give the rest of us.

“Can you believe” Ollie says when she comes back from the loo “that I’ve forgotten to put on knickers?”

“What do you mean you’ve forgotten?” Coco laughs.

“I’m just not wearing any.” She shrugs.

“And you realize now?”

“When I went to the loo.”

Marie shakes her head with a smile and I chuckle at my friend’s careless being.

“Yeah and she would have been terribly late if I hadn’t called her.” Marie says. “It looks like she had a busy night with Mario.”

Olivia smiles.

“Right, because Adam and you were surely asleep at 9 pm.”

Jason laughs out loud.

“So Indie, what time did you go to bed last night?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Actually, pretty early. I think it was like 10 pm and I slept alone. In my own bed.”

“Oh, did Harry have work?”

“No” I chuckle “he was home, I guess. We don’t spend every minute together, you know?”

JJ shrugs.

“If I were with a man who could pull off a white fucking suit like Harry, I know I would be with him every minute.”

Then it’s me who shakes my head and laughs.

We haven’t been out all together since last week when we went shopping and even then, Jason wasn’t there so it feels like ages that we don’t just chat around and have something sweet together.

Marie tells us about her grandparent’s golden wedding too and we all drool over the pictures because they look so adorable.

“¡Madre mía, Marie!” My sister says. “You look so good too! Look at that red dress! Where was the red carpet, madam?”

Marie blushes and giggles and Jason smiles tenderly at my sister. I see the way Olivia’s looking at her, with her teasing smile, and I know Coco’s in for some Olivia jokes.

“Guido must be good.”

Coco’s confused eyes drift to Olivia’s.

“Or have a huge dick.”

My sister clicks her tongue and shakes her head giving our crazy friend a look but she just smiles.

“If it has anything to do with genetics” she starts “that should be the case.”

We all laugh and my sister’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Oh my God, it is!” Jason celebrates.

He seems so happy. He’s been laughing and joking around and even though sometimes he still gets a little into his own head, I reckon he’s gotta have to deal with a lot of thinking these next months. I remember when Javier and I broke up, it was like that for me too. Yet that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I wish him and Marie would make up. They are good for one another. They complement each other like sweet and sour and I know Marie’s sorry. I can tell by the way she looks at him.

After breakfast, the five of us go shopping. I’m not a big fan of shopping, to be honest, I get headaches and hate trying clothes on but these guys love it so that’s what we’ll do. Coco and Ollie are a very dangerous duo. If it wasn’t for the rest of us, they��d be in debt by now.

They make Jason walk into Agent Provocateur even though he tries to remind us that he’s actually bisexual and can’t really give his opinion on this without getting killed.

“You can keep saying you’re bisexual, you know? But you’re gay, pal.” Olivia says.

“Again, the fact that I am not sexually attracted to you does not make me gay.” Jason smirks.

“No, I know, it’s the fact that you always look at guys.”

“I look at girls too. I just don’t tell you about it.”

“And who exactly would kill you?” I tease him, changing Olivia’s crusade on making him gay. “Mario and Adam are teddy bears, Guido’s shorter than you and Harry’s not jealous.”

He laughs.

“D’you think Harry wouldn’t mind if I saw you in lingerie?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Jason smirks. I know it might be hard for him to understand but he is a jealous guy. He knows that, we all do. But Harry isn’t or if he is he handles it like a master and I think that’s the most beautiful thing he could do for me. I never understood why my friends in high school thought when their boyfriends acted like cavemen was something to be happy about. I mean I never really understood that well-trodden thought “he’s jealous because he loves me.” No. “He deals with his own jealousy and lets me be free because he loves me.” That’s how I see it.

“Should we get the same set?” Ollie asks Coco. “You know, in order to surprise the Matteoti brothers.”

My sister blushes and giggles and Olivia grins.

“I hope to God they don’t talk about that to each other.”

Olivia giggles.

“I used to think every man did but I actually think Mario doesn’t.”

“And you’re offended by that?” I offer.

Jason walks towards us swaying his hips like Beyoncé placing a bra over his sweater and the knickers over his jeans and Coco laughs and rushes to his side to stop him. The two of them go to the “funny section” where the crazy lingerie sets are.

I see my sister laughing at whatever it is that crazy Jason is telling her about the outfits.

“No, I just don’t know how he’s still with me.” Ollie says.

I frown as I turn to look at her.

“Hey, guys, do you like these ones?” Marie shows us a red lace crazy knickers with holes where fabric should be.

“I have no idea how you put those on.” Ollie shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I interrupt her.

“I genuinely don’t know with these many holes, it’s-”

“No, I mean about Mario.”

“What about him?” Marie asks.

“She just said she doesn’t know why he’s still with her.”

“What?” Marie frowns.

We both look at Ollie, whose blue-grey eyes are busy with the underwear she’s holding.

“I just don’t know how someone that’s… such a saint can be with me.”

I look at Marie but she just shrugs and gives me her best pursed lips.

“I mean… You guys are very different but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I like him.” Olivia confesses. “I really do, what I don’t like is to constantly feel like I’m waiting for the moment he realizes he doesn’t want to be with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Marie frowns. “I think it’s rather obvious that he’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah,” Ollie tilts her neck “now.”

“You are wonderful and it might not work out but that’s that. Every single relationship might not work out but that’s when you show you’re brave. If you get hurt, well, here we are for chocolate ice-cream or popcorn and movies.”

“Thank you,” she chuckles “but that’s not even what I meant. You guys know I’ve… Fucked around.”

“So?”

“Guys don’t like to thrust their dicks in a public hole.”

Her words freeze my blood. I hate that she thinks so low of herself and I hate society for putting that idea on her mind. I can’t pretend I understand her and I don’t know what I would think if I were her so as much as I want to tell her that’s silly, it might not be. I mean it certainly isn’t if it’s something she really thinks but also, I feel bad and I feel bad because I have been a part of that thought, unconsciously but I have.

I told Harry I didn’t want to be another notch on his belt. Isn’t that the same thing? Only, with men. But didn’t I somehow make him less worth it just because he had been with a lot of girls?

“Don’t you ever speak that way about yourself again.” Marie threatens her.

I am taken aback by her reaction but I let protective Marie take the lead her. I am foolishly speechless.

“I won’t even comment on how degrading and sexist the “public hole” thing is because what’s important here is that you are not a hole, Ollie, for goodness’ sake. Do you really think Mario sees you like that?”

“This is not about Mario.” Olivia defends him.

“Still, don’t insult him by thinking so little of him.”

“And don’t think so little of yourself either, Ollie.” I add. “Fighting sexism starts with oneself, don’t be sexist to yourself, let yourself be free, yeah? And just for the record, if Mario ever left you, it’s clearly his lost.”

“So clearly.” Marie adds.

Olivia just chuckles and wraps her arms around both our shoulders, pulling us into a hug in the middle of the underwear store.

I want to tell her to talk to Mario, to let him in and let him hear how she feels and what she thinks so he can have a chance at telling her the same things about himself but I couldn’t bring myself to be such a hypocrite. How could I tell my friends to talk to their boyfriends when I never do that with Harry?

I mean, we’re getting better or at least I think we are but there are still so many things to work on. I don’t want to hurt him and that means I don’t ever want to talk to him like I usually do. I’ve been thinking so hard about it, since that day he insulted me when we were having dinner at Bellamond. It sounded so terrible and it made me feel so little and unwanted and stupid so to think that’s how he’s felt every time I’ve done it makes me very angry with myself.

I’ve already seen how easy it really is to talk to him. I did at Marie’s house after I said those terrible things to him and he hasn’t made a big deal of it. So then I don’t understand why it is so hard for me to talk to him about what I think, how I feel and what I want… Because the truth is- I want him. He already knows that, I think, but I don’t think he knows how I really feel about him.

I would like to maybe text him right now and tell him I miss him, because it’s true, I do. I’ve barely seen him this week because he went on a congress from Monday to Wednesday and after that we’ve both been busy but I don’t know what’s holding me back. Am I really that scared of rejection?

I can’t get our fight on Marie’s house of my head. I think he let me know that night that he was addicted to me but he didn’t mean it like a good thing. He was sad that I was. I keep thinking lately… Did Javier really break that much?

What if that relationship has turned me into an abuser? I can’t believe I called Harry a junkie. I just… And then what? Then I cried so he would forgive me? I mean that’s what they do. Am I toxic to him?

I know ever since Dylan died I haven’t really been myself. I don’t even like the person that he left behind. I have felt… Empty and cold and heartless, I really have but… That has changed now. It has changed. But what if it has turned me into some sort of monster? What if I’m not capable of loving?

Out of all the people in the world who doesn’t deserve that, Harry’s the one who least deserves any of that.

“You can tell me.” Jason says.

We’re both sitting down on two velvety armchairs as the girls try things on. I give him a look.

“Whatever is troubling you, you can tell me.”

I sigh.

“Do you think I’m cold?” My eyes investigate his so he can’t lie.

“How do you mean?” His eyes narrow.

“I mean… Do you think… Do I remind you of David?”

“Of David?” He almost stands up from his chair as he frowns and turns to look at me. “You? Of course not! You’re nothing like David!”

“Well, you don’t know the way I treat Harry…”

Jason straightens his back before he sighs.

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you did so I can decide?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.” I shrug.

“You’re sorry, that’s what you are, which means you’re nothing like David.”

“What if I am? It’s not enough with being sorry, is it? The thing is never doing it again and I keep hurting him.”

“How?”

“I… I speak very harshly to him sometimes and I tell him terrible things… I… I don’t want to hurt him, you know? He’s become someone important to me, someone I care about. I would never hurt him and yet I keep doing just that and I don’t even know why.”

I look away from him and Jason sighs again.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I tilt my neck to look back at him the moment he quotes The Perks of Being a Wallflower. He’s stern and understanding. I frown, I don’t know what the fuck does that have to do with anything of this but I listen because I love this guy more than I love most people.

“Indie” He reaches for my hand “is it possible that you do that when you feel like he’s getting too close?”

I look away. I don’t think it matters why I do it. I don’t think it would have hurt less that I had known the reason why Javier had me tied up on the bed. And what if the reason doesn’t have a solution? I mean what if the reason is my subconscious is trying to put him away from Dylan’s place? What do I do about that?

“Indie, I can’t pretend I understand what it’s like to lose somebody you love as much as you loved Dylan-”

“I love Dylan.” I correct him.

“You love Dylan, sorry. But… Dylan… I mean… D’you think he would want you to be lonely?”

I don’t answer him nor do I look into his eyes that investigate me.

“Put on his shoes.” He whispers. “Imagine the story the other way, imagine you were him and he was yourself. What would you want for him?”

I let his words take me to that parallel world sometimes I wished it was the real one. If I had died that night, then Dylan would be here and if angels existed then I would be the one for him and I would look after him and protect him from whatever cloud angels get on the sky. But what if I saw him with another woman? What if I heard the same things he said to me said to her? What if he loved her more than he loved me? What would I be then?

I remember my therapist trying to sow that idea in my head- that we have to let go, that no person can live in the past forever, and that letting go doesn’t mean disrespecting. I wonder where’s the balance, I wonder if someday I’ll be able to find a way to feel good without feeling like I’ve forgotten all about him. But I know what I would want if I had been the one dead that night.

“I would want him to be loved.”

I feel tears on my lacrimal and Jason’s hand wraps around my arm and gently squeezes me.

“I know that’s what he would want to.” He whispers.

“I haven’t been able to go to his grave once.” I whisper. “I think if I could… Talk to him… Maybe let him now, I love him and I always will but… I think I love someone else.”

I hear Jason taking a deep breath and only then I realize what I just said. I tilt my neck so I can see his face. I don’t know what I’m expecting neither do I know why I’m expecting him to judge me. But he just smiles.

“I already knew that. Your face lightens up when he’s around or when someone talks about him. I saw that on Marie’s house the other weekend.”

I take a deep breath and give up. He’s right.

“Don’t worry, it’s the same for him. He treated you like a queen and was always looking after you and I think you guys understand each other pretty well.”

“We understand each other? We fight like cat and dog.”

“The way I see it, you’ve had your misunderstandings but you’ve always figured it out. D’you think any other person would have stick around long enough for you to figure each other out? And I’m not talking just about him, I mean, he’s got some issues too.” He frowns.

I finally chuckle. He does have some issues but they don’t come close to all the other good things he has.

“You know, I’m happy you got him. It makes it easier for me to finally do what I’ve always wanted.” He smiles.

“What is that?”

“The States.”

My mouth shuts. My lips pursed and I want to cry.

“The States? You’re leaving too?”

First Ollie and now him. No, no, no, there’s no way Marie and I are going to overcome this. They can’t leave; he can’t leave. I need him. My pulse accelerates. I never thought I was going to be losing my best friends so fast. He smirks and nods his head.

“I need it, Indie. I didn’t go because of David and he… He treated me like shit throughout the entire relationship and I didn’t lose you guys because you are fucking angels from another planet but I think I just need to go away for some time, figure myself out, do what I want for a change.”

I take a deep breath. I really need to stop being so selfish. I don’t even know how long for he’s planning on leaving but the least thing I can do as a decent friend is to support him not matter what. I’ll miss him, sure, but I won’t lose him just because he goes to another continent. He’d have to change his name and go to a secret location for me to lose him.

“If that’s what you want and what you think you need, I’m all in.” I smile. “I’m gonna fucking miss you but I’m happy that you’re doing your thing. I hope you know, even when you were with David, you never changed the person you really are and I think that says a lot about you. What happened to you was not your fault, it was his, and it could have happened to anyone. God knows we both know how they find the way to get into your mind. but you’ve always been more than what happened to you.”

He frowns despite his smile and I can tell that’s his way to try and hold back the tears. He wipes the ones that scape out before he holds my hand.

“I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And you call me dramatic but look at what speech you gave for three months that I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving for three months?” I frown and he laughs. “Then why would you say it like that? I thought you were leaving for good.”

He laughs.

“And miss your wedding and your pregnancy with Harry’s babies? Never.”

“Hey, hop off the horse!” We both chuckle.

“Just be honest with him, Indie.” He tilts his neck. “You’ve got him here” he flexes his fingers to gesture a handful and taps a finger on it “and here” he taps a finger on his chest where his heart is and I smile. “Now, why don’t you get some sexy ass lingerie for him?” He wriggles his eyebrows. “The straight guy in me can help you decide.”

“You’re on.” I smile.

I try on about five of them. The girls are the judges but they all know I’ll end up choosing whatever I like. I never listen to advices when it comes about clothes. I know what I like and what I don’t and that’s that.

I do have a thing for underwear. It’s the only thing I actually enjoy buying so most of my underwear is cute and lace or silk or nice soft cotton but I do get excited at the idea of surprising Harry with something sexier than usual.

Maybe high stockings would do, I could wear a skirt and underneath it some high stockings hooked up to the waist of a lace bodysuit or something like that. I find a black lace one almost see through except from some parts strategically covered with the black flowery pattern, the cut between my legs and my nipples. The straps are silk and from the one around my waist, the two clasps for the stockings fall on my thighs. I love it.

After getting our underwear and going go with JJ to the male section of Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent, we finally sit down on a terrace surrounded by bags and have a drink. I order a Martini because I guess I’m feeling fancy after all and my friends order a sort of fancy cocktail each, except from Coco that goes with a beer. Her and Ollie are the ones who look fancier by far, Marie does too but in a way that lets you know she’s the good girl in the family, whereas Ollie looks like the one who’s always late to family meetings and Coco looks straight out of a magazine and yet there she is with a beer on her hand not caring about the contrast one bit.

In front of the terrace, there’s an Italian restaurant where there are two guys at the door, opening them for the clients. I have caught them staring at me more than once but every time I look the look away. I’m afraid I even have a boob out with all the staring but when I look down I realize I don’t. Jason’s sitting next to me and I wonder whether he’s noticed too or I’m just being paranoid. I look up at them and one of them look to the floor. Jason laughs.

“Geez, they could get a photo.” Jason says.

Alright, I’m not crazy.

“You’ve noticed too?”

“They haven’t taken their eyes off you since you sat down.” He chuckles. “And I’m sitting right here, I could be your boyfriend for all they know.”

Olivia tilts her neck and turns her head around being the blatant bitch she is before she gives me a smile.

“Well, they can keep trying, they’re trying to get in the place of an Armani underwear model.”

I roll my eyes and so does Marie. My eyes drift to her.

“You’re so exaggerated.”

“He could be one.” I defend him.

My friends and sister giggle and I blush but join in. It’s true, he could really be one and I miss him and want to see him.

Ollie’s call coincides with the moment Jason gets up from our table to go to the toilet and Marie gives my sister a smile.

“Coco, how are things with Guido? Are you happy?”

“Oh, I’m very happy.” She smiles. “I’ve never had this before, you know? Knowing my feelings are reciprocated. It just feels great.”

“Oh, I’m happy to hear that. You deserve someone like that.”

“So do you.” I tell Marie. “How’s everything with Adam?”

“He’s a dream.” Marie shakes her head. “I do worry that everything is too good.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s so gentle and loving and caring… I keep thinking when it is going to end.”

“Why would it end? I mean, obviously there’s always like the first few months where everything is just perfect and all that and after that there’s more comfort and less romanticism but… Don’t worry about that. It’ll come naturally.”

“See? But that’s what I don’t want! I don’t want him to walk in the bathroom while I’m peeing or for him to see me with my hair on a towel and a face mask on.”

Coco giggles.

“Well, maybe not now, but it’ll eventually happen if you guys stay together for long enough.”

She looks away from us and takes a deep breath before she speaks.

“The other day he told me to leave some things at his place.” She all but whispers as if it was some sort of secret. “Well, he got micellar water even though he didn’t know what that was because I told him once that I couldn’t stay over at his house because I didn’t have my micellar water to wash my face.”

“Aw.” Coco rests a hand on her chest and Marie’s lips pursed.

I giggle.

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing.” She shakes her head. “It’s just… Are we not moving too fast?”

“I mean he asked you to leave stuff at his house because you need stuff. It’s not like he asked you to move in. I stay over at Harry’s all the time.”

“Don’t you think I’ll freak him out when he realizes I’m a high maintenance girl?”

“I mean, Marie” Coco’s sweet tone makes my friend look at her “I think he might have an idea already?”

“I mean” I giggle “he’s been to your house.”

“Yeah, but my skincare is all carefully kept in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Well” I smile “I don’t think that’ll be a deal breaker.”

She sighs.

“Maybe some day you can let him in the bathroom while you do your skincare routine. I do not think he’s gonna be faced by that.”

Her brown, good-girl’s eyes investigate mine whilst she considers my idea. I can’t believe she actually think that would be a problem. Adam is crazy about him. I don’t think there’s anything she can say that would make him not want her.

Jason comes back before Ollie does but it doesn’t take her long to stand next to our table.

“Guys, this was a very lovely day” she starts “but I won’t lie to you. Mario just called me, he said he had a hard day at the hospital today and I want to cheer him up with incredible sex and cuddles so-”

“We did not need to know about the incredible sex.” Marie tells her but Ollie just smiles.

“And of course you can leave to be with your lover, Ollie, no need to explain anything to us.”

“Right.” She smiles. “Then see you, guys.”

With that she picks up her uncountable bags and leaves and Marie bites her bottom lip.

“I think I’m gonna leave too, guys. I have a skincare routine to share with someone special.” She smiles at Coco and me and we both laugh.

“What?” Jason chuckles looking at both Coco and me. “I’m kind of tired too, girls. Your shopping gave me a headache.”

“I’m pretty sure you bought more stuff than me.” I reprimand him but he just rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I love you all. See you.”

Coco and I walk together to her car and on the way there we both chat about how the group has changed in just a few months. It’s like we’ve grown up more in this year than we have in the last five. Jason went out of a terrible relationship and came out being stronger and more confident than ever and he’s going to the States for that internship he wanted; Ollie’s finally moved on from Jack and her inner crisis and seems to be done with being insecure and afraid of love; lovely Marie found her knight in shinning armour and is living the dream; and even Coco and me left the past behind and meet someone great.

I might miss the way things used to be because they’ve been like that for a long time but… I think they’re only getting better.

I dare to do it, if Marie’s going to show her skincare routine to Adam and Mario called Olivia because he had a hard day and needed comfort, I can tell him.

Indie: Miss you x

I rest my phone on my thigh and look out the window trying not to torture myself if he doesn’t answer straight away. He might be busy, he might be asleep even or he might be with his family.

Harry: Fuck, I miss you too

I grin like a kid on Christmas morning. Harry’s typing…

Harry: Are you done with your friends?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Can I see you?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Bien

I giggle like a teenager and Coco tilts her neck to give me an amused look. She’s not used to it.

“Do I drive you home or directly to Harry’s?”

“Do you have plans?”

“I wanna go home to shower but I’m going out with Guido afterwards.”

“Are you taking the car?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind dropping me at Harry’s then? So I can shower and stuff before too.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Awesome. Thank you.”

Harry: Did you have dinner?

Indie: Yes.

Indie: Are you at home?

Harry: Yes, I am. Are you coming?

Indie: Are you inviting me?

Harry: You’re always invited, love.

Indie: Then how about I visit you in an hour?

Harry: Can’t wait xxx

After the shower, I butter my body with my strawberry and vanilla body lotion and put on my new lingerie set before I put on some lip balm and mascara. I put on a terracotta colour soft woollen sweater and a high waist black denim mini skirt that covers my stocking so they look like normal tights.

I’m excited to see Harry but on the way to his apartment while Coco drives and tells me about some of Guido’s jokes that had her laughing last time they saw each other, the excitement turns into nervousness.

Will he think this is too much? Will he find it funny? Because I would be mortified if he does and after all, this is not a special occasion. It’s just a random Friday night. Oh, God, he might think I’m crazy.

As I stand on the lift to his apartment, my sister’s compliment on my outfit gives me some nerve. I mean it’s just Harry. If he finds it funny or thinks it’s too much, I can always play it cool and pretend it was a joke all along.

He’s waiting by the door with a big smile when the lift doors opened and I make my way towards him keeping both hands on my brown jacket. He takes it and places it on the couch before we make our way towards his living room.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He offers.

“Um, maybe a cup of tea?”

He smiles amused.

“I was thinking you were going to say something alcoholic because it’s a Friday after all but you always surprise me, Blue.”

I chuckle.

“How was your day?”

“Good.” He nods his head as he turns the kettle on and takes two cups from the cupboard. “I had lunch with my mum. She asked me about you.” He gives me a smile that melts me. “How was yours?”

“Good too. We had coffee and then went shopping until we were hungry so we had a dinner and then a drink.”

“Sounds like torture to me.”

I laugh at his comment.

“That is not true. I’ve seen your closet, you’re into fashion.”

He smiles dimply because he knows I’ve caught him. God, I have seen him smile countless times in the last five months but still it makes my heart skips a beat. I approach him when he’s giving me his back checking on the water in the kettle and when he turns his head for he noticed my presence, I’m inches away from him. He wraps his arms around me and understands what I want so he leans down and kisses me. I let my tongue tell him how much I missed him and he hums as it pushes between his lips and caresses his. His hands find my ass and I moan against his mouth but the kiss is sweet and tender and we only pull apart when the kettle whistles.

We sit down on the couch and have our cups of tea as he tells me more about his lunch with his mum and I tell him more about my day. He also tells me about his congress and about an interesting case he had this week and I realize then how easy it is to talk to him. I didn’t realize there were these many things I wanted to tell him until I had him in front of me.

He’s been very handsy too and I’m sure so have I even if I don’t notice, but his hands have never left my legs and I’ve been a little nervous that he might move them a little higher and realize what I’m wearing but so far, he’s just been respectfully caressing my knee or calves.

“How is Jason doing?” He asks.

I find it so sweet that he asks about my friends.

“He’s better. Yeah, I think he’s doing good. He’s going to the States though.” My hand finds its bicep as I try to catch his undivided attention even though I already have it.

“What do you mean he’s going to the States?”

“Well, it’s only for three months.” I turn the drama off a little. “It’s this internship he got while he was with David Dick, he said no because David wanted him to stay but apparently he’s gotten a second chance and he said yes this time.”

“Wow, that’s great. Your friends are as nerdy as you.” He giggles.

“I’m not going anywhere though.”

“Yeah, thank God.”

He grins and his hands find my hips before he pulls me closer until I’m straddling him. He captures my lips with his in a long peck. Still, somehow, he hasn’t seen my stockings. I peck his lips again.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I would be very happy for you if you were going abroad for an internship or something too. You know that, right?”

I nod my head.

“I would miss you a lot though.” I confess and he grins.

“I would miss you too.”

I kiss him again and he kisses me back in a long, loving kiss until I pull away.

“I haven’t asked you: what did you get today?”

I lick my lips and feel my cheeks heating up. I’m sure when women wear these things, they don’t feel so shy. Plus, I have no reasons to feel shy when all Harry’s done is worship my body. I don’t know why I’m even doubting myself. He’s going to love it.

“I can show you.” I whisper.

I can feel his heartbeat accelerating under my hand and smile. Every doubt I’ve ever had flees my mind as I grab a handful of my sweater over my belly and pull from it so as to get it out of the hem of my skirt. His green eyes drop to my hand and his hands adjust to my hips over him. He swallows.

When my sweater springs free from my skirt, I just pull it up so he can see my lingerie bodysuit over my belly and his fingers sink of my hips as his lips part.

“Fuck me.” He whispers.

My lips curl up into a grin as his eyes search mine.

“You perfectly know what you do to me.”

His hand squeezes my hip once and I almost moan but then he takes his hands off me and rests them on the couch next to his hips.

“Well, do you want to see it or not?” I whisper.

He nods his head but doesn’t say a word. His eyes challenge me.

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

His green eyes, playful and filled on lust, narrow and this time it’s my pulse that accelerates. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I rest my weight on him as I get up from his lap and find my phone still on my purse. I go on Spotify and play Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet and hand him the phone so he can hear the song better. His grin turns nervous.

I have never done this before and I have no idea of how to dance for an striptease but here goes nothing. I sway my hips slowly much like I do when I’m fucking him because I already know he likes it from the times we have danced together. His eyes are set on me but instead of feeling nervous, I feel sexy and hot and lucky that he’s looking at me like that.

I turn around and give him my back before I bend over sticking my ass in the air to get my shoes off. Barefoot, I turn around and unbutton and unzip my skirt pushing it down my legs and letting him see my mid-thigh stockings. The corners of his lips curl up and he silently mouths fuck me.

Funny, I’m thinking the same thing. I caress myself like I’d like him to do, starting with the sides of my thighs and my hips and then my belly and my flanks, pulling my sweater up. I cup my own breasts under the sweater and don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows. Still swaying slowly to the music, I grab the hem of my sweater and take it off dropping it on the floor.

I stand before him on my lingerie and feel fire burning inside me as his eyes roam my body up and down. He’s shifted his position on the couch but I can intuit the bulge between his legs.

“Do you want me to go on?” I whisper.

He shakes his head.

“Come here.”

I do as I’m told and his touch cuts my breathing halfway. His hand sticks to the exposed skin on my thigh and lustfully moves up to my hip where he squeezes.

“You must be fake.” He almost chuckles and I do.

“I’m real” I rest one knee on the couch next to his thigh and resting my hands on his shoulders, I straddle him “and yours.”

“Fuck.”

His fingertips press on the back of my neck and our mouths find each other with greed. The way he’s looked at me and the way he’s touched me and how hard I can now feel him against the inner side of my thigh drives me crazy and I push my tongue inside his mouth hungrily. My eagerness takes him by surprise but he’s just as eager as I am judging by the strength of his tongue against mine and the squeezes of his hands on my flesh. He pulls away but my mouth follows his blindly.

“Calm down, love” he chuckles against my lips “we’ve got all night. Let me enjoy you.”

I pout but instead of getting another kiss, he grins. I can’t say I’m disappointed with the outcome of my pouting. I love that he still looks like a child when he grins even when he’s acting so much like a man, full of lust and need.

“How did I do?”

Grinning, he takes my hand and lets me feel his hard on. It excites me to the point that my walls clench. He’s so hard and so hot… I want him inside me now. No, I don’t want him, I need him.

“I had never done that before.” I confess.

“Are you serious?”

I nod timidly and he sighs.

“You’re a natural then. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen and this thing…” His fingers caress my bodysuit “fucking hell, Blue, I’m gonna be dreaming about this.”

I laugh.

“Now you have to show me what I get for it.”

He grins and licks his lips as he tilts his neck.

“Well, when did the show end? You did ask me if I wanted you to go on.”

“And you said no.” I frown.

“Because I don’t want you to take this off just yet.” His tongue licks my lips like a cat. “But… If you want, I would love to watch you first.”

“Watch me?” I frown. “Doing what?”

He grins. He takes my hand in his and brings them both to my sex making me cup my dripping lips myself. I breathe in through my nose. He’s so close to me and he’s smiling in the way that turns my insides into jelly and I’m so wet and so needy… I need some relief now.

“I want you to touch yourself for me, baby.”

“You mean… Right here on top of you?”

He nods slowly but his fingers move over mine and make me caress myself. He does that a few more times before he removes his hand and lets me work alone. I keep doing what he was doing before and press circles on my clit as my eyes set on him. His hands hold my hips to give me more balance and I slip my fingers underneath the soaked fabric. His eyes move from the place I’m touching to my eyes and stop at my breasts.

“Fuck…” He whispers. “How does it feel, baby?”

I slip a single finger inside before I get another one.

“It feels better when you do it.” I confess.

He squeezes my hips and pecks my lips.

“I can show you how I do it.” His lips press on the exposed skin over my bra and I feel a current of electricity on my body. “D’you want me to?”

I keep touching myself with lips part, enjoying his kisses and his whispers. I love how his voice turns deeper and raspier when we’re having sex. It drives me crazy.

“Why do you want me to touch myself instead of you?” I whisper.

“Because having you pleasuring yourself on top of me… Fuck, baby… You don’t know how sexy you are.”

I bite on my bottom lip but his thumb pulls from it liberating it. I look into his eyes.

“If you do that, I’m gonna burst.” He smirks. “Do you not touch yourself?”

“Yes, I do.” I move my fingers slowly against my clit because I’d cum already if the rhythm was any faster. “I guess it’s just… I’m nervous.”

“Why? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” I gasp. “I do, I just… I want you.”

He grins and cups my breast on one hand making me moan.

“I’m right here, love. I just want you to cum like this first and then we can do whatever you want. Only if you want though.”

“I do want.” I stop him. “Just show me how you do it.”

He slips his own fingers the fabric of my bodysuit and guides mine.

“You have to start here” he covers the upper side to my clit, the part closer to my belly and presses slow circles “slowly, yeah, like that and don’t be nervous, baby. If you don’t cum on your own, I’ll help you.”

I half laugh half moan and he chuckles. I keep moving my fingers like he told me to do until I find a spot that sends electricity through my body. I start rubbing faster and the feeling is so good I almost don’t notice he removed his fingers.

“That’s right, baby, faster, faster.”

I feel the lower part of my belly tensing up and my nipples hardening and I moan as I relax my neck and throw my head back.

“Now stop.” Harry’s hand covers mine and stops my movement and I frown and give him a death glare that only makes him laugh. “And do it slowly again.”

I let him guide me and move my fingers against my clit watching him watch me. His eyes are fixed on my hand and my pussy and he’s biting his lip. God, this is so hot. I’m horny as hell.

One of his hands move from my hips to my inner thigh and he slips his fingers under the fabric again, slipping two fingers inside me and making me moan out loud.

“Fuck, I just wanted to see how wet you are.”

He moves his fingers slowly in and out of me and between that and my own stimulation on my clit I am afraid I might faint. I bite on my bottom lip again and he pulls from it with his thumb.

“What did I say?” He whispers as his fingers keep moving in and out of me so I bit my lip again so as not to scream. “You’re not really as good of a student as I thought.” He chuckles.

He gets his fingers out of me and I whimper making him chuckle again.

“You do it, baby.”

I curl two fingers inside of me and move them with the rhythm he was using and one of Harry’s hands squeeze my hip. I shut my eyes and gasp.

“Imagine it’s me, love.”

“Oh, God.”

When I open my eyes, I see he’s stroking himself over his jeans and my eyes drop to his bulge.

“You don’t know how much you’re turning me on, baby.”

No, he has no idea how much this is turning me on. I thought this was something only done in porn but this is fucking hot. Having him right here as I pleasure myself, hearing his voice thick with lust and knowing how much watching me is turning him on drives me crazy.

“You’re always so good with me.” He captures my earlobe between his teeth and pulls from it and I moan.

“Touch yourself, H.”

“D’you want me to?” His voice comes out strangled then and I feel the power he gives me burning my skin.

“Yes, like I’m doing.”

I hear his zipper going down and feel him lifting his hips from the couch to take his pants off. My eyes set on his hard length, already leaking precum, shinning and tight, and his fingers wrap around himself.

I try to take this time to focus on what he does to himself so I know how to touch him better next time so I slow the rhythm of my fingers for otherwise I’d finish already. Harry’s mouth attacks the side of my neck so I can no longer see him because my neck tilts back without my consent to grant him better access and he keeps kissing my skin.

“I’m not going to last long watching you, baby.” He whispers.

“Oh, God, I’m very close already, Harry… I fucking… This is so exciting.” I moan.

“Fuck me, keep talking.”

“Oh, Harry… I want you to cum so I can cum too but…” I can tell his pumping accelerates and so do my fingers. “It’s such a shame you’re not on my mouth like last time… You taste so good.”

A guttural sound cuts his breathing halfway and I feel a hot liquid spurt on my thigh. That sends me into overdrive and I moan until my throat stings. Harry’s hands hold my hips as I sigh and try to catch my breath and then I smile at him.

“Stop that or I won’t be able to stop fucking you.”

I laugh softly.

“Then don’t stop.”

He smiles mischievously at me and I know he was hoping to hear that.

“I can’t decide whether I want this off or not.”

He says staring down at my bodysuit and I laugh.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just smiles before he leans in to capture my lips with his. We kiss intimately for a while and then his hands pull my hips down and he penetrates me slowly. He swallows my moans as he keeps kissing me lustfully but slowly, almost calmly.

His hands hold my ass and he lifts me and sinks me back down so he’s fully controlling the rhythm, a very slow, torturous one that lets me feel every inch of him as he stretches me on his way inside. I feel him so deep too, I don’t think he’s every filled me like this but I love it and I let him known, with moans and bites on his bottom lip.

“You like it slow, baby?”

I hum and nod my head and we kiss each other as if we were the only people in the world. Right now, he is to me.

“Spread your hips wider apart.” He whispers.

I do as I’m told and replace my knees further away from him. His hands hold me in place as he slowly pushes back in and I feel him paving his way through my channel inch by inch until our pubic bones touch and we both gasp.

“Oh, God.”

And we repeat again. He pulls out almost entirely and then sinks in again. He kisses me passionately and I press my body against his as if we could get closer. He captures my bottom lip with his teeth and pulls from it like I normally do with his and when my lip sets free from his prison, we both smile at each other. He fills me again and, in this kiss,, it’s me who pulls from his bottom lip. I have never felt more filled of him and of feelings for him, lust and love bubble and mix together inside my belly and burst in every kiss.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re amazing.”

I hear him giggling.

“Don’t laugh.”

He slaps my ass cheek and I jump a little.

“I’ll laugh if I want to.” He grins.

I smile too.

“You’re right. Don’t stop laughing. I love it when you do” I gasp as he fills me again, he rolls out “And I love your smile, you’re so handsome when you smile” when he fills me again, I tangle my fingers on his hair and pull from it “and your hair, I love your hair and your eyes, when you look at me…”

He shuts me up with a passionate kiss and I hope he understands how I feel about him through this intimate encounter.

“Blue…”

I wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything even though his hips don’t stop moving against mine.

“What?” I press him.

“Nothing.”

I would have insisted but his hips attack mine hard and it cuts my breath halfway. I cling onto his shoulders and he keeps thrusting inside me hard and fast. I pull from his hair and listen to our skins clapping together and the wet sounds of our intimate encounter. His hand cups and squeezes my breast and I arch my back and tense up as I cum again.

His thrusts become faster and sloppier until he cums himself and before I have time to react, he’s standing up and carrying me on his hips to his bed. He lies me on my back and smiles as he stares at me.

He spreads my legs opened and gets on his knees between them and his hands hold my ankle and place it on his shoulder before he unclasps my stockings and put them down my leg. He does the exact same thing with my other leg and caresses my entire body before he takes off my bodysuit.

He then hovers me and pecks my lips a few times before he pecks my nose and my cheeks and then my neck and my collarbones and he leaves kisses in every inch of my skin. I almost giggle when he kisses the spots that tickle and I feel a different type of excitement on my belly at his attention for these kisses aren’t even lustful, even though we’re both now naked. I feel adored and I feel cared for and wanted and I feel my heart about to explode with love for him.

He kisses my legs and from the inner side of my thighs he moves back to my belly, kissing my skin there again before he smiles at me.

“What do you want from me, Harry?”

“Everything.” He smiles as his face reaches the level of mine and he pecks my lips again. “I want everything from you.”

My breath catches on my throat. I want him, no, more, I love him. I love him. I swallow and play with his hair as I stare into his eyes.

“Careful what you wish for” I whisper “If you play with fire, you’ll end up burned.”

“I’m already burned.” He smirks. “And here I am.”

I smile but the smiles turns into an o as he thrusts inside me again. God, this man is insatiable, but I can’t get enough either. He fucks me slowly again and he keeps biting my lips and squeezing my flesh as we both gasp and moan.

I sink my nails on his back as he licks and sucks on my nipples and I moan his name once and again whilst his hips keep drilling me to his bed. I wish we could stay like this forever. When the delicious torture on my breasts is done, he grants me again with the heavenly image of his face and that’s all I can see as he rests his forehead against mine and keeps on moving in and out of me. I feel his breath on my face and swallow his grunts and moans.

I am not sure he feels the same way I do. I don’t know if he loves me but I don’t think I could feel any of this if he didn’t. I don’t think he would make love to me like this if he didn’t love me. I think he wouldn’t touch me like he does, I think he wouldn’t squeeze my flesh so gently if he didn’t. I think his kisses wouldn’t feel like this if he didn’t love me too.

“You feel so good, baby.”

I feel my pulse on my skin and I feel the knot on my belly about to untie and with another push of his, I lose track of space and time and my head sinks of the pillow. I can’t even breathe for some seconds until I moan out loud and feel my throat raspy and becoming inflamed. He lets go too, groaning in my ear and shivering on my arms.

It takes him a few seconds to roll out of me, but he stays laying on top of me and I hug him to my chest as we both fight to catch our breaths. I don’t know what any of this was but he filled me in every level and I still feel my heart pumping proudly at the newly found sentiment.

Harry’s breathing pattern changes and becomes calm and deep. Carefully, I pull back just enough to look into his eyes but they’re close and his expression is peaceful. I kiss his forehead.

“You’re falling asleep on me.” I whisper.

“No…” He frowns but his eyes are still closed.

I smile and try my best to pull from the duvet so I can cover us both but I’m not strong enough.

“I just need help to cover us up.”

“I’ll warm you up.” He mumbles.

“You’ll freeze too, come on.”

With one hand he lifts my back from the bed and with the other he pulls from the duvet and rolls us both under the duvet before he hugs me again. This time he rests his back against the mattress and pulls me to him so I’m the one resting my head on his chest. I trace senseless figures with my fingertips on his bare chest.

“Blue”

“Yes?”

“Give me a goodnight kiss.”

I chuckle before I lift my head and peck his lips. His eyes are still closed but he frowns.

“Kiss me well.” He complains.

I press my lips against his again, not quite knowing what he wants, and lick my way inside his mouth, getting a lazy response from his tongue. When I think I did well, I pull apart and peck his lips as closure but he opens his eyes and the intense green in them paralyzes me.

“I want one of your kisses.”

Still impressed by his gaze, I press my lips against his again and I put all the affection I have for him on the kiss until my belly erupts in a fist of butterflies and my chest feels funny and warm. We kiss one another with love, it can only be love, and when I feel like my pulse has reached my brain, I pull away and Harry skims my nose with his.

I rest my cheek against his chest before he opens his eyes and realizes I’m blushing and I hear his heartbeat against my temple. His breathing slows down just like the movement of his fingertips on the low of my back and he sighs.

“Blue…”

I hum.

“I love you.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles and reader #harry styles news #harry styles

116 notes · View notes

meet-me-in-the-kitchen · 5 years ago

Text

(Accident)ally in Love

Y/N bleeds over Harry’s sheets, and he reacts in ways she doesn’t expect.

As dawn breaks, Y/N tosses and turns a bit uncomfortably, waking—what seems to be—unusually early from a swelling, nauseating ache in her stomach. As the pain intensifies, she has no choice, but to crack her eyelids open. When she peeks her eyes open, she sees the warm glow of a newly risen sun just barely streaming in through the thin curtains. Too tired to think anything else of it, she just huffs, adjusting her position a bit more so the warmth of Harry’s sprawled body is closer, almost pressing entirely to her backside, and tries to urge the pain away with use of his heat, and the delicious scent of his cologne. Despite her dead-set, fierce will, her body still betrays her—back and stomach aching something fierce, and she sleepily runs the possible reasons for her pain over in her head, wondering if it’s take-out, but she hasn’t had take-out in weeks, because Harry had cooked for her. Then, she remembers it’s December 22nd, and it sort of clicks in her mind. Her period.

She doesn’t think much of it, too sleepy to grab Midol or Ibuprofen, and the aches are still moderate; they ebb and flow, and the nausea isn’t too bad. she just sort of takes his hands from where they are strewn haphazardly about on the pillows and her body, and places his big palms over her aching belly.

He stirs a bit from the action, but hums contentedly in his sleep, his long fingers splaying out under the thin material of the packer’s jersey (his) she had on, and they soon engulf the whole surface of her tender abdomen and the heat and subtle pressure is just wonderful and what she needs to comfortably take the sharp edge off the dull pain and she hums plaintively, and he kind of reflexively wiggles closer to her and nuzzles her shoulder, lips pressing feverishly to his girl’s cheek, before falling back to sleep. And with her hands still over his hands to keep them in place, she finally dozes off a little, too.

As her lids grow heavy with sleep, a sudden thought interrupts her zen moment: period. Periods meant blood, and... she was suddenly hyperaware of the intensity of her cramps indicating she’d been on her period for quite some time overnight, and the thinness of her panties and jersey, Harry’s jersey, drenched in the same substance wetting the inside of her thighs. Fuck. Her eyes shoot open, pupils enlarging in panic. She’d bled onto Harry’s jersey, Harry’s bedsheets, and, judging from the close proximity by which he clung to Y/N, Harry, as well.

She felt the sudden desperate urge to cry. This was mortifying, embarrassing, humiliating—

“Fuck,” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes from the overwhelming amount of shame coursing through her in this cursed moment. “What am I gonna do?”

These accidents are usually fixable, and, for the most part, unnoticeable. Maybe, if she snuck out of Harry’s hold and grabbed some Oxy, she could—

She tentatively lifted herself up a bit, and the tears began to fall as a glaring, emergent bright red splotch, basically akin to the size of a small country, stared her in the face challengingly.

She knew it was normal to bleed through or get your period at unexpected times. However, even when her bedsheets got stained or she had to throw her perfectly fine clothes in the wash, she felt frustration. Now, these were Harry’s things she was ruining, and he had every right to be mad or disappointed at her for doing this to his bedsheets and jersey, and him.

Unable to just sit there and pretend her period didn’t exist, no matter how strong the urge was to do so, she decided it was best to rip the bandaid off, albeit she was crying out of anger at Mother Nature as she did so. She tore herself out of Harry’s arms, sniffling in response as he made incoherent noises and stirred, arms grabbing for her but coming back empty. So as to avoid any more public humiliation, she hopped to the bathroom, quickly grabbing an extra pair of clothes along the way.

“Love?” He croaks, rubbing at his eyes groggily, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she sniffles, flinging open a closet door and letting out a strangling sound from the back of her throat as a hoard of bathroom supplies came tumbling out, something that had Harry sitting up worriedly in bed. She reaches to grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, when her eyes catch onto an unopened box of pads, with a little sticky note reading a stupid period joke only adding on to her guilt. She’d ruined this thoughtful man’s sheets, and the urgency to fix it before he got disappointed or mad had her changing quickly, exiting the bathroom and swerving past Harry, avgedting eye contact while clutching hydrogen peroxide in hand like a weapon. She was on a mission to save the remaining bit of dignity she had left.

A colourful selection of expletives spew out of her mouth as a particularly vicious cramp causes something to twitch in her belly.

“Hey, hey,” he stops her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. He tilts her chin up with a finger, using it to stroke her cheek as her panicked gaze finally meets his curious one, forest green eyes searching hers. “What’s wrong, hm?”

It’s like a dam breaks with those kindly spoken words.

“I was asleep,” she blubbered mournfully, eyes shining, “but then— and I, I’m so sorry, Harry. I messed everything up, and your sheets—“

“Breathe, lovie,” he coaxes, eyes widening a bit at her explanation. She takes a deep breath, and he smiles lightly, before his fingers press into her upset frown again. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want you to be mad,” she whispers.

“At you? Never.”

“I ruined the bed,” she sniffed, “and your jersey.”

“The bed...?” His eyes unconsciously dart to the piece of furniture in question, the confusion on his face disappearing as he scanned the tell-tale red stain on the white bedsheets, realization settling into his features. When he reverted his gaze to her, he found her staring at him anxiously, and soothingly rubbed circles into her hips. “Hey, that’s no big deal, angel.”

“B-but, I ruined your sheets. Aren’t you mad?”

He swipes a lone tear from her cheek with his thumb, wrapping his arms around her in affection.

“You know,” he teases a wet smile from her, “there’s this wonderful invention, ‘s called a laundry machine, you send the clothes off and they come back clean.”

She swats at his shoulder lightly, and gazes up at him tentatively. “You sure you’re not mad?”

“No,” he kisses her on the spot, to ease her worries. It had been an eventful morning for her.

and the rest is like clockwork. He tells her to take a warm shower, and gathers the sheets and soiled undergarments and jersey to put in the wash. After that’s done, he changes the bedsheets and heads to the kitchen once he feels a bit more awake.

Once she’s back from her shower and feeling considerably more collected, Y/N walks to the kitchen timidly, to the enticing scent of bacon, eggs, and chocolate chip pancakes. There’s a cup of tea waiting for her on the counter in her cup, and a couple of Advil pills set aside next to it. She finds Harry bare-chested, a spatula grasped in his hand as he tends to whatever’s cooking on the stovetop. She gingerly takes a few quiet steps and wraps her arms around him from behind, burying her face in his back as he relaxes. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t think much of it, only muttering “‘s only some blood, innit?” while rubbing her back. He’s grown up around two women, and knows the ins and outs fairly well: a period is just as natural as sneezing, and, at the end of the day, he reckons a period is considerably harder than a quick run to the laundry room. He’d be a bit of a shit person if he didn’t rub her cramps away, do the washing for her when she was clearly stressed out, and generally help her get as comfortable as possible. He’d wash the sheets a million times over, if it meant she’d feel better. Caring for his girlfriend is less of a kindness and more of a given, isn’t it? Nevertheless, he presses a kiss to her full lips; her humming at the taste of chocolate and warmth, and then going back for more.

MASTERLIST

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles preferences

1K notes · View notes

irwinkitten · 4 years ago

Text

pizza party | m.c

notes: so i had @cashtonasfuck and @pxrxmoore around today and i got struck by pizza delivery guy!michael because we had pizza and our driver was called Michael and yeah. It’s kinda short n sweet, basically I wrote this in less than three hours lmao. word count: 1.7k warnings: soft fluff with a side of lashton.

donate to my ko-fi?

It had started with the job he’d taken at eighteen, delivering pizzas to make some extra money. His parents had never minded, but Michael knew they’d expected more from him. But he was working on it, but bringing in some income certainly stopped them from disparaging him immediately.

But four years later, he’d kept the job as his other nine to fives fell through. It had been the most consistent bit of income that he’d managed, and now he did it as extra money after the app he had developed had taken off and he worked on his own timetable.

On his routes, every week there was one place he delivered to around the same time every week. Four large pizzas, one veggie supreme, one meatball feast, one pepperoni and one plain cheese.

The first time Michael had met you, you’d given him one of the best tips that night, almost fifty dollars to his amazement.

“Hey, you probably get the worst end of the stick some time. Have a good night.” With that, you’d share shy smiles as he thanked you and took the tip.

“You’re definitely my favourite customer.” The answering laugh he’d received made him feel good. He’d always enjoyed making people laugh, the small burst of pride was worth it.

For months he always ran that route. And the guy at the pizza place knew better than to give that order to anyone but Michael. They didn’t know about the tips but he’d frequently told them about something the two of you had exchanged. By month two, you’d finally swapped names and he’d left with a joke for you and wishes for a nice evening with your friends.

Soon the small five minute interactions grew to ten, for it to go to fifteen before you were found by one of your friends nearly half an hour after you’d gone to answer the door because you’d been the last one on his route before he was clocking off for the night.

This went on for months. Some evenings being a quick dash because he had more pizzas to deliver and other evenings being longer because he was nearly at the end of his shift.

Then suddenly the order for pizzas stopped.

And on those Friday nights, he wondered what had happened for it to stop.

When he’d complained to Calum in a playful manner, Calum had cheekily suggested to go around and find out what the problem was.

“You do realise that it’s things like that which make people fear for their genuine safety, right? We’re not about to be a creep city.” Michael had immediately fired back and Calum had quickly apologised.

After a couple of months, there was a different order. Veggie supreme and a pepperoni pizza to your address on a Saturday night. Keeping his fingers crossed, Michael had knocked on the door, only to be greeted with a blonde haired man, his hair dishevelled and some dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey chicken, pizzas here!” He called back and you appeared at his elbow, eyes falling upon Michael and he let out a breath of air, but he couldn’t explain the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Still on shift I guess?” You asked quietly and he heard your voice crack, almost as if you’d been crying.

“Yeah, so a quick stop for me this week. You’re okay though?” He questioned and you gave him a small smile in return.

“Yeah. Thanks Mike.” He didn’t miss how your eyes watered when you took the pizzas from his hands and fled from the front door. The blonde haired guy sighed.

“Thanks man.” He handed the tip over and the door was closed in his face and Michael wasn’t too sure what he was feeling, but he definitely noticed that the need to settle in and binge on ice cream was definitely tied with how he was feeling.

And so began the Saturday night runs rather than Friday night ones.

Occasionally blondie, who he’d learned was called Luke would answer the door, other times it was you, but you never stayed long, and every time Michael saw you, his worry increased because you looked, to simply put it, exhausted.

It seemed that the universe was against you since every time you’d ordered, it was always towards the start of his shift since Saturdays he worked the late shift.

Sometimes when you showed up to help Luke, he tried to ignore his feelings, deciding it would definitely come off as creepy if he tried anything, not to mention that you clearly had to be dating Luke. But he couldn’t stop the sharp ache that appeared when he had to rush away for his next delivery.

But then a different man opened the door, jet black hair which had been dyed, and a face of thunder as he studied Michael before it clicked and he started grinning.

“Are you on a late shift again?” The question threw Michael for a loop, but he shook his head. “Good, hey babe! Cute pizza boy is on his last pizza call.” This time, Michael felt confused. Was this your boyfriend?

Suddenly, Luke appeared with you being practically frog marched to the front door, your eyes studying the floor.

“When you get them to actually talk, we’ll let you both in for this pizza.” The door slammed shut and Michael was not only confused but concerned. You, however, scowled at the door before sitting on the doorstep, so he hesitantly did the same.

“Bad day?”

“No, just pushy friends who think that because they're in love, I need to go for my happiness.” Michael immediately blushed before letting out a breath of air.

“Sometimes going for your happiness isn’t so bad... but your friends could maybe lay off a little.” You snorted at his words before shifting and resting your head on his shoulder.

Michel stiffened, definitely feeling confused and this time concerned that this was some kind of prank or dream, but you didn’t move.

“I’m your cushion now?” He hesitatingly asked, earning a snort from you. And then it fell back into the attitudes you shared with each other before you’d not ordered anything for weeks.

“Since you’re surprisingly comfortable, yes. Also you haven’t been my weekly therapist for a while.” There was a bitter laugh added on from you, but Michael heard the hurt in your voice.

“Didn’t realise that my drivers license also included therapy.” He teased and this time you giggled.

“Only for your favourite customer though, no one else.” You added on quickly.

“Of course. My favourite customer could probably get away with murder and they’d still be my favourite.” He nudged you in return and you gave off a soft laugh which transformed into a sob, the noise startling and alarming Michael.

Unsure of what to actually do, he simply let you cry on his shoulder, offering a tissue as you offloaded the emotions before sucking in sharp breaths to get the sobs under control. He didn’t know what he could say, but once you started to calm down, he held his hand open to you, and felt his lips curve into a smile as you took it.

“So since I’m your therapist this evening, what happened to cause that?”

And suddenly you were talking. You were talking about the group of friends who had come around every week for pizza, how they had been your solid friends for years and how they’d broken your heart, started rumours and spread lies and how everyone else had either had a go at you, blown up at you or just ignored you.

And he felt his heart break a little for you as you told him everything they did or said. And now the lack of pizza nights made sense.

“Is it bad of me to say I’m glad it was those friends and not the two in your house? I kinda suspected you and blondie were together and that he’d hurt you.” The tease was enough to earn him a weak and watery giggle.

“Luke? Nah, he and Ashton have been together for the three years. They’re my best friends and the only ones who haven’t abandoned me. They stayed the last couple of weeks because I just wasn't functioning. Luke refused to leave and Ashton stayed because he knew his boyfriend was right. They’ve been the best to me.” You admitted quietly and Michael squeezed your hand gently.

“Good. I’ve been worried about you. Seeing you in near tears the last few weeks has kinda sucked.” The admittance was met with a gentler hand squeeze from you and a softer sigh.

“Reckon you’d share those worries over dinner with me on Monday night?” The question had caught Michael off guard for a moment, his brain catching up to your words.

“Like a date?” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to make the clarification, but you chuckled and finally moved your head off his shoulder to look at him.

He studied the way your eyes had rimmed red and the tears had dried on your cheeks, but he still felt his heart leap as you offered him a small smile.

“Exactly like a date. And even if that doesn’t work, I want us to be friends. You seem wonderful and I’m annoyed that I didn’t get your number sooner.” This made Michael laugh at your almost rueful look.

“I guess it’s a date then. Want me to pick you up at a particular time?”

“They’ll be ready by six at the latest!” Came through the door and you groaned, before sighing.

“They mean well, I promise.” Michael simply shook his head before standing up and helping you up.

“I get it. It’s good to have them, even if they’re too curious.” He raised his voice a little, only to earn muffled laughter in return.

“So, see you the day after tomorrow?” And the way your voice had turned shy and your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, he felt his heart melt a little bit.

“Absolutely. I’ll be here for six and we’ll go somewhere fun, no pizza involved at all.” And the easy smile that he gave, seemed to relax you as the door opened and both Luke and Ashton stood with wide grins.

“See you then Mikey.” You called to him as he made his way back to the car, calling his own farewell in return before the door shut and he sat in his car for a moment before he felt the butterflies erupt.

Now he had a date to plan.

taglist: @sexgodashton, @goth5sos, @malumsmermaid, @empathycth, @wildflowergrae, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @cakesunflower, @loveroflrh, @clockwork124, @cal-puddies, @stellar5sosrecs, @ashtoniwir , @cthwldflwr, @cthla, @calmlftv, @spicycal, @liketheydidwithyou, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer, @bluehairedtracii, @drummerboy794, @feliznavidaddycal, @ukulelecal, @thecurlsofgod, @converse-luke, @madbomb, @ccnicole02, @youngblood199456, @megz1985, @lukesidentitycrisis, @snapback-irwie, @neonweeknds, @666yourwitchyfriend666, @cashtonasfuck, @ashtaway, @conquerwhatliesahead92, @itjustkindahappenedreally, @kchillout, @damselindistressanu, @colormekaykay, @findingliam-o, @sublimehood, @singledadharrington, @sugarcoated-pain, @singt0mecalum, @calumspeachy, @colourfulcalum, @lostincalum, @burncrashbromance, @asht0ns-world, @flusteredcliffo, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave, @fangirl-everythang, @lashtonswildflower, @lashtondaddies, @calumssunshine, @ambskiwi, @abundant-stars, @myescapefromthislife, @lmao5sosimagines, @beyoncesdragon, @jae-writes-fanfiction, @cxddlyash, @tresfandom, @niallisworld, @lietomevalntyn, @babylon-corgis, @monochrome44, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @lyllibug, @bloodmoonashton, @ghostofmashton, @a-little-less-sixteen, @cashworthy, @smokeinherlungs, @longlastingdaydream, @h0tsos, @sadistmichael, @sugar-nico, @sunnysidesblog, @angel-cal, @samros95, @maluminspace, @lukeinblue, @britnicole11, @gigglyirwin, @everyscarisahealingplace, @loverofcashton, @iovehemmings, @g-l-pierce, @jannimoeller3, @wildmichaelflower, @lukeskisses, @youngbloodchild, @abb-lan-5sos, @calumsbub, @flameraine, @mateisit-balsamic, @ilovelukey, @castaway-cashton, @musiclover1263, @alloutofcashton, @tobefalling, @sarahshepherdblog, @cassie-sos, @possesedperson, @treatallwithkindness, @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, @ashtonlrwin,

if u wanna be added or removed from the taglist just hmu!

108 notes · View notes

imaginationofacrazyfangirl · 5 years ago

Text

A Helping Hand- Chapter One

◇ Jungkook x reader ◇ Neighbor AU ◇ 5K {1/?}

Summary: The minute the word ‘fuck’ slipped from your daughter’s lips Jungkook saw his life flash before his eyes. He’d been in love with you for a while and the last way he wanted you to find out was by your daughter telling you two to fuck. Seriously he was going to kill Jimin for ever telling her that.

Warnings: Fluff alert

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

“Ha-eun, I swear if you unlock that front door, I’ll put you straight in time out.” You warned upon hearing the familiar click of the deadbolt unlocking.

A second later the sound of it relocking was heard followed by your daughter huffing impatiently. At six years-old Ha-eun already acted like a teenager stifled by their parents’ babying, and while she tested as smarter than those her age, Ha-eun would always remain your little girl. She was the light of your life. One of the few good things to ever happen to you, but that didn’t stop Ha-eun from driving you crazy sometimes.

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late, mommy!” Ha-eun ordered with a stomp of her foot.

“You did not just stomp your foot at me, young lady.” You called out, putting the finishing touches of your makeup on. Taking one last glance at the mirror to make sure you look as professional as possible, you grabbed your purse and headed to the living room where your daughter waited expectantly.

Ha-eun glared at you arms folded over her chest. Her lips pursed together in away that would make the Karen’s of the world jealous. When she finally did grow up, Ha-eun undoubtedly would be a force to be reckoned with. For now though, you couldn’t take her seriously with her sailor moon backpack and light up shoes. “You took forever getting ready.” Ha-eun bemoaned, “Now Kookie is going to think I’m the reason we’re late.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well excuse me your majesty. I only woke up, cooked breakfast, cleaned, and put your hair in bear buns before getting ready for work-which may I remind you pays so we can live here.”

Ha-eun’s dark eyes narrowed. “I hate it when you use mom-scuses.”

“So do I, but unfortunately I’m a mom and I kinda like my kid for some reason.”

An exasperated sigh escaped her along with an eye roll. Yup, she definitely was six going on sixteen. “Can we go now? I want to see Kookie.”

“Wow, I see how loved I am.” You teased unlocking the door. You bit back whatever comment you had about her seeing the young man only yesterday. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame Ha-eun for liking him so much. The boy next door was wonderful in ways that drove you crazy. He personified prince charming, and the girl who won his heart would undoubtedly be the luckiest thing on the planet.

The thought brought a bitter taste to your mouth, but you pushed it back. As handsome and amazing Jeon Jungkook was, he remained four years your junior. You highly doubted he saw you as anything more than the Noona next door. Moreover Jungkook had unlimited potential to go far in life. Something you gave up when you dropped out of college to raise Ha-eun. “Stop it. There’s no point in thinking about such things.” You murmured slapping your cheeks.

Ha-eun gave you a curious look. “Thinking about what, mommy?”

You give her a cheesy grin. “Nothing baby, mommy’s being silly.”

“Oh, okay.” Ha-eun said, sounding not entirely convinced. Thankfully she turned her attention to the front door leading to your neighbor’s apartment. “Can I knock now?”

“Of course, I’m surprised you haven’t yet.” That earned you another eye roll. You swore one day your daughter would get her eyes stuck from rolling them so hard.

Standing as prim as possible Ha-eun knocked on the door. On the third knock the door swung open to reveal your neighbor dressed in a white shirt and torn jeans. His dark brown hair a messy mop that suggested he had yet to brush it. Your mouth dried at the sight as arousal pooled between your legs. Subsciously you closed them embarrassed by how easily turned on you were.

“Ha-eun! (Y/N)! Good to see you this morning.”” he cheered, eyes lighting up. His plush lips split into a wide bunny like smile. It only made your situation worse. Seriously it should be illegal to be this attractive so early in the morning.

“Jungkook.” You nodded, swallowing back your desire. “Thanks again for helping watch Ha-eun on such short notice. I swear I’ll pay you when I pick her up tonight-”

He raised a hand silencing you. “Nuh-uh, you know I don’t accept your money. I enjoy hanging out with Ha-eun, she’s the best teammate a guy could ask for.”

“Yeah, Mom. I’m the best. Last time I helped used my blue shell in Mario Kart to help Kookie defeat Hobi-oppa.” Ha-eun smiled smugly.

“That’s wonderful, Ha-eun.” You said, attention still focused on the boy. “Seriously though, let me pay you. I mean you are giving up your weekend to play with a six year-old. It can’t be how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”

Jungkook shrugged, “I’m not really one for socializing. If it weren’t for my old fraternity brothers, work and home would be the only places I’d go to.”

You smiled, trying to picture Jungkook as a hermit. As much as he claimed not to like people, he certainly had a lot of friends. Ha-eun always mentioned some new person she met while hanging out with her favorite babysitter. “Still...let me do something to repay you. You do so much for us, I feel like I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“You’re not, I promise.” He reassured. “But if you really want to repay me...a home-cooked meal would be nice.”

Your smile widened. Jeon Jungkook really was a saint. “Deal. How does dinner with Ha-eun and I, Monday night sound?”

“Sounds like my type of evening. I’ll bring dessert-”

You held up your hand, grinning as he blinked surprised. “Don’t you dare. I promised you dinner. Dinner includes desserts, drinks, and anything else edible you can think of.”

“Alright. I got it. I’ll leave it to you.” He chuckled, causing your heart to skip a beat. Yeah, you really needed to get laid. Too bad being a single mom puts a damper on that sort of thing.

“You two are weird.” Ha-eun interrupted. “You should just fuck and get it over with.”

Words can’t describe the embarrassment that washes over you, as well as the shock of hearing your six year-old say something so vulgar. Not only were you sure your face matched the lipstick you wore, but you no longer knew how to speak. Jungkook’s mouth hung open his tongue running across his bottom lip as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t appear embarrassed like you rather at a loss of what to do.

‘He probably doesn’t know how to respond without being rude.’ You lamented to yourself.

Sparing both of you even more embarrassment you turned to your troublemaking daughter. “Ha-eun (L/N), where did you learn such a thing?”

She shrugged. “Jimin-oppa tells Kookie that all the time. By the way what does fuck mean?”

“It means you’ll get a mouth full of soap if I ever hear you say that again.” You replied, not in the mood to explain the constructs of sex to your six year-old so soon. “Sorry about that Jungkook-”

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing! Jimin-hyung likes to joke around a lot, sometimes he says things without thinking.” Jungkook sputtered. “I promise I’ll have a word with him about it.”

Ouch...well that hurt. “Please do. I mean I’m sure it’s all guy talk, and Ha-eun is probably supposed to be asleep when you guys talk, but please be more weary.” You lectured in your best mom voice.

You weren’t too worried about it honestly. You met Jimin before, and knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Moreover you knew Jungkook wouldn’t expose Ha-eun to any bad influences, the young man acted rather protective of your daughter. Just one of the many things that attracted you to him.

“Of course.” He promised.

“Thank you…” An awkward silence filled the air cueing you to leave. Bending down you kissed the crown of Ha-eun’s head. “I guess I should be off. As always behave. Don’t cause any trouble for Jungkook, you understand? And don’t ever say that word again.”

Ha-eun gave her signature eye roll. “It would help if I knew what it meant.”

“Ask me when your fifteen.” You deadpanned. Turning back to Jungkook you offered a small smile. “Thanks again. I really appreciate your help.”

“Anytime.” He responded. “Like I said I enjoy Ha-eun’s company.”

With one last nod you left trying to ignore the painful pang in your heart. Funny how only a few simple words felt like a total rejection. It wasn’t like you seriously considered dating Jungkook in the first place. He was too young and you needed to focus on Ha-eun. So why did his dismissal hurt so much?

///

Jungkook wanted to die, but not before killing Jimin. He told the blonde time after to watch his mouth, especially when Ha-eun was over. The little girl hated bed-time, and would pop out of nowhere attempting to avoid it. So it came as no surprise she heard something not meant for little ears. It was Jungkook’s luck she heard his best friend advising him to fuck her mother. God...he wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to let him watch Ha-eun anymore.

“Kookie, are you alright? You look sick.” Ha-eun asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not going to barf are you?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Ha-eun. No barfing here.” Jungkook reassured, running a hand through his hair. His fingers tangled in its knots only bringing more ire to him. Great not only did Jimin’s mouth get him in trouble, but he looked like a hobo in front of you. What a great way to start the day.

“Good, because Bon-Hwa threw up last year at school and….” she trailed off, detailing how a classmate barfed everywhere. Normally Jungkook listened to Ha-eun finding her stories quite entertaining, but his current level of self-hatred distracted him. He made a fool of himself in front of the woman he loved. There was no coming back from this.

“Are you even listening Kookie?” Ha-eun demanded to know.

Jungkook turned from his thoughts to see the young girl pouting at him. “Sorry kiddo, wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

“Uh-huh…” Ha-eun squinted. “You’ve been acting weird since I told mommy to-”

“Why don’t we go to the park? Maybe grandma will be there with Sami today?” Jungkook suggested. On many levels Jungkook considered Ha-eun his own, but that did not mean he wanted to have THE talk with Ha-eun.

Thankfully it did the trick for Ha-eun ran to get her shoes on, her face beaming with excitement. The white samoyed was the closest thing she had to dog. Often Jungkook and Ha-eun would visit him and his owner (an old neighborhood woman) at the park. There they’d play catch or tug-o-war with Sami, until either Granny or Jungkook decided it was time to go home. “Do you think I can feed him meat skewers again?!”

“Ha-eun, we aren’t supposed to feed Sami in the first place.” Jungkook sighed. For such a brilliant girl, Ha-eun didn’t always think things through. He wondered if that was just her age or something she inherited from you. You were kind of scattered brained at times.

“But Sami was a good dog. Good dogs get treats.” Ha-eun stated.

Jungkook shook his head. “They do, but not with my money okay?”

The (h/c) haired girl shrugged, but said nothing more. She was definitely plotting something though. “Ready Kookie?”

“Ready.” Jungkook smiled, taking her hand. It always amazed him how full of life Ha-eun was. You would think someone so small would tire easily, but Ha-eun had a thirst for life that neither naptime or bedtime could quench. She was truly something.

"We need more bread! Kookie loves bread." Ha-eun ordered, dissatisfied with the small amount placed on the table. The small girl decided to take it upon herself to ensure that tonight's dinner was nothing less than spectacular. Granted Ha-eun didn't cook a damn thing, but she did boss you around every chance possible.

Normally you wouldn't condone such behavior, but the nerves for tonight reframed you from parenting duties. Ever since Saturday things between Jungkook and you have been awkward. Neither of you could really look each other in the eyes, let alone speak. In fact you were sure dinner would've been cancelled if not for Ha-eun excitedly reminding Jungkook about it the other day. The young man was a sucker for Ha-eun, and refused to upset her

The doorbell rang jolting you to attention. Ha-eun let out a gleeful cry, "He's here. He's here!"

Like Saturday morning you heard the familiar jiggling of locks along with the scraping of a chair being moved. "Ha-eun (L/N), we've talked about this. " You called out.

"But it's Kookie!" She wailed.

"I don't care if it's Santa Claus himself, you do not open the front door without me. " You replied, walking over to the door. Ha-eun pouted, but wisely chose to keep her mouth shut. "And stop standing on chairs. They're for sitting not standing."

"Okay moooom, can I open the door now?" Ha-eun pleaded.

Shaking your head, you waved her off the chair. You unlocked the deadbolt, allowing Ha-eun to do the rest. The girl practically slammed the door open, startling both you and a well-dressed Jungkook behind it. "Kookie!" Ha-eun launched herself at him, ignoring the shocked expression on his face.

"Ha-eun!" Jungkook smiled, catching her with ease. His eyes yet again alit at the sight of her. It was the type of look you used to imagined Ha-eun's father giving, before everything went to hell: a look of love and pure adoration. The type of fatherly expression Ha-eun deserved.

“Jungkook, I’m glad you could make it.” You greeted, pushing back the bittersweet feeling rummaging around your heart. Jungkook was not Ha-eun’s father. He was a kind neighbor boy who you needed to stop pushing your creepy emotions onto.

Jungkook’s smile lessened a little as he shifted Ha-eun in his arms. “Noona, it’s good to see you. I wouldn’t miss Ha-eun for the world or your food.”

You forced a smile. “Well, come in. Dinner’s about ready, I hope you like curry-”

“You’ve brought me flowers, Kookie?!” Ha-eun squealed. She pointed at a colorful bouquet of flowers on the ground. Their petals tousled from their inevitable drop when Jungkook caught her.

“Crap-I mean darn it. They’re not supposed to look like that.” Jungkook muttered to himself as you picked it up.

A giggle escaped you. “’I’m sure they weren’t expecting to get dropped in exchange for an excited six year-old. Besides…” You smelled them. “They’re still lovely.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave a toothy grin. “I’m glad you like them. You said not to bring anything edible so I thought these might do.”

"They're perfect. " You grinned, clutching the bouquet. How long had it been since you got flowers?

“Hey! What about me?” Ha-eun protested.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow. “Who?"

Ha-eun stomped her foot thoroughly annoyed. "Me. Ha-eun! Your favorite person."

You snorted. Ha-eun certainly didn't like anyone taking her Kookie's attention, but her. Hopefully it didn't develop into a thing when she got older. Maybe you spoiled her too much.

"Aish...I haven't forgotten about you, kiddo. " he chuckled, pulling out a packet of butterfly hair clips from his pocket. "These are actually from Jimin. He wanted to say sorry for his potty mouth."

She glanced over the packet, brows furrowed as they always did when Ha-eun made decisions. Jungkook and you shared a look, both you trying not to laugh. After a minute of contemplation Ha-eun hugged the packet to her chest. "I forgive him, but next time tell him I take cash-"

"Ha-eun!" You said as Jungkook howled with laughter. Your cheeks burned bright red. Really? Where did this girl come up with these things? "The correct response is apology accepted and thank you. "

"I don't know, Noona. I think I like hers better. "

"Don't encourage her. She needs to learn manners. "

"I hate manners." Ha-eun chimed.

"Well, you need them soooo you're stuck." You said, rolling your eyes. You definitely needed to stop spoiling that girl - Jungkook too. "Now why don't you two wash up, while I set the table?"

"Okay, come on Kookie, race you to the bathroom!" Ha-eun challenged taking off.

Jungkook ran after her. "Hey you cheated!"

Once again you smiled listening to the two argue as you set the table. In the very center of it sat the crumpled flowers looking prettier than any bouquet you've seen before.

Thankfully the rest of the night went smoothly. Any and all awkwardness between you and Jungkook seemingly vanished. Ha-eun even managed to convince you two to watch a movie afterwards, despite her usual eight O' clock bedtime. Overall the night ended well with Jungkook carrying a sleepy Ha-eun to bed as you cleaned.

“I swear if you don’t fuck him, I will.”

A groan escaped you at your best friend’s declaration. Hyuna was definitely the female version of Jimin if the blonde hair, cat-like appearance and salacious appetites said anything about them. Though unlike Jimin, you knew Hyuna meant every word said.

“What does that have to do with anything I said?” You questioned, eyebrow raised.

Hyuna gave you a look. It was the same look Ha-eun often did whenever she thought you were stupid. “The boy’s best friend suggest you two should fuck. What more is there, (Y/N)? I mean I know it’s been a while, but it’s not like you’re virgin naive to all things sex.”

“He was joking. You know being stupid. Jungkook said-”

“Jungkook lied. Men lie. Especially when they don’t think they have a chance.” Hyuna said. “Besides he brought you flowers, (Y/N)! Flowers! No uninterested man brings a woman flowers. What more of a hint do you need?”

“Right, because it’s not social etiquette to bring some to dinner.” You pointed out, steadying the tray of drinks in your hand. As giddy as the thought of Jungkook actually liking you was you couldn’t allow yourself such hope. After all it was only a matter of time before Jungkook met someone through work or friends and moved on with his life.

Hyuna smacked your head nearly causing you to drop the tray. “What the fuck-”

“That’s for being stupid. First about the flowers, then about whatever stupid shit is running through your brain right now.”

You shot her a glare, but said nothing. Sometimes it scared you how easily Hyuna could read your thoughts. Honestly you weren’t entirely sure she wasn’t a mind reader. “Look, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Jungkook is young, he has a lot going on for himself. I don’t-”

Hyuna raised her hand. “Keep talking shit about yourself, I dare you.”

This time you smiled shaking your head. Hyuna was the best friend you could have ever asked for. "Fine. Have it your way but I'm telling you now Jungkook is merely a kind guy. "

"And I'm a natural blonde. " Hyuna snorted, but left it be. "Anyway if not Jungkook, then what about Seokjin? He's hot, our age, and you are totally his favorite employee."

"You did not just tell me to fuck our boss!"

Hyuna giggled, walking off with her tray. "Come on (Y/N). You got to get it somewhere. Why not let the owner of Eat Jin eat you? "

You stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. That's it. Hyuna wasn't the best friend ever, she was the worst. "I swear she's more concerned about my sex life than I am."

Hours passed with the breakfast rush ending pretty well. Tips were slightly above average, the customers managed to be bearable, time seemed to go by fast and now you were folding silverware waiting for lunch to start. Overall, the day was going to be a good one.

"(Y/N), you got a phone call. " your boss Seokjin said, holding the phone out. "It's your neighbor, Jungkook. Something about Ha-eun. "

You brow furrowed as you grabbed the phone. It was a Thursday afternoon. Ha-eun was at school. So why would Jungkook call you about Ha-eun at work nonetheless?

“Hello?”

“(Y/N), thank god. I tried calling your cell phone, but you weren’t answering so I called your work-” Jungkook’s panicked voice came over the phone. “Listen, I need you not to panic, but Ha-eun had an accident at school. She hit her head falling off the jungle gym. The school said she was alright, but they took her to the hospital just in case.”

“Wait what? No. No. Ha-eun can’t be in the hospital, I would know if she was. They would’ve called me-”

“(Y/N), they tried reaching you on your cell phone, but couldn’t so they called me next. Look, I just left work I can pick you in fifteen minutes and take you to the hospital.”

You barely heard his words, your mind racing with horrid images of Ha-eun hurt. How bad was it? Was she crying for you? Did she need stitches? Why weren’t you there right now?

“No. I need you to go straight to the hospital.” You spoke without thinking. “It’ll take too long if you get me, and Ha-eun needs someone right now. Even if I leave right away, you’ll still be closer. Please Jungkook, you’re the only one I trust with Ha-eun.”

“...I understand. I’ll go straight to Ha-eun.”

You sighed, feeling a little of your panic dissipate. “Thank you. I’ll be right there. I’m going to catch a cab right now.”

“Don’t. Ask Jin-Hyung for a ride instead. He’ll bring you here in one piece, if not I’ll kick his ass .” Jungkook said, growling the last bit. “And (Y/N), don’t worry I’ll take good care of our Ha-eun until you get here.”

He hung up leaving you with questions, thoughts, and more importantly ⁸a feeling of reassurance.

Jungkook had forgotten he was on Ha-eun's emergency contact list. You had placed him on it last winter when Ha-eun gotten the flu. It was only supposed to be a temporary thing until you found a more suitable contact, and seeing how Jungkok never received a call he figured you eventually did find someone else ...never had he been more glad to be wrong in his life.

“Ha-eun! I’m here for Ha-eun (L/N), her school called me.” Jungkook said as he burst through the emergency room. His heart raced against his chest as if he ran a marathon. He must’ve looked like a mad man, but Jungkook didn’t care, he needed to find Ha-eun.

“Sir, can you please calm down. I’ll be more than happy to direct you." The woman at the front said.

Jungkook clenched his fists. "Calm down? My kid is in the hospital. Don't tell me to calm down!"

"I understand. There are a lot of people here with someone they love in the hospital. That doesn't mean you can freak out-”

“I swear to god if you don’t tell me where Ha-eun (L/N) is…” Jungkook growled, not bothering to finish his sentence. Never before in his life did Jungkook think about threatening a woman, but in this moment all he was beyond tempted too.

The receptionist glared at him. She looked ready to argue, when her co-worker intervened. “For God’s sake Haneul tell him where his daughter is.”

Hanuel frowned her dark eyes boring holes into him. “Room 23. It’s down the hall on the right.”

Jungkook let out a sigh of relief. He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ aimed at Hanuel’s co-worker who waved him off, then spun in the direction told. Thankfully it wasn't long before he saw Ha-eun's teacher Ms. Kim sitting outside a room. "Mr. Jeon. I'm glad you're here!" she greeted. "Ha-eun's inside. Everything is alright for the most part-"

Jungkook barely spared her a glance as he opened the door to Ha-eun's room. Instantly he was greeted by the sight of Ha-eun trembling on the hospital bed , her little hands gripping the blanket tightly as a doctor leaned over inspecting the nasty gash on her forehead. "Told you already Ms. Kim, family only." the doctor paused staring at him. "You're not Ms. Kim. Who are you?"

"I am-"

"Kookie!" Ha-eun cried, arms outstretched towards him. "Kooookie!"

Jungkook scooped her up in his arms, ignoring the doctor's protest. She buried her head in his chest, tiny fingers tangled themselves in his shirt as she sobbed. "It's okay, Ha-eun. I'm here now. Your Kookie's here. "

"Sir, if you don't tell me who you are I'll have to call security. " the doctor, a balding middle aged man, warned.

Jungkook shot him a glare. Barely a minute had passed and already he can't stand this guy's guts. What was with this hospital and its staff? "If you don't tell me what's wrong with my kid, you'll need to. "

The doctor relaxed not even questioning Jungkook's words. "Your daughter fell off the playground and hit her head. She has a minor gash that'll need stitches and we have some tests to run for safety, but as of now there are no complications. "

"Thank God. " Jungkook sighed, holding her closer. Never has he felt so scared or relieved as he did today. Even now it felt like Ha-eun could slip through his arms at any moment.

"Thank God indeed. Now if you don't mind Mr.."

"Jeon."

"Jeon? Must be divorced. " the doctor muttered. Again Jungkook's dislike for the man grew. "Anyway as I said previously Mr. Jeon, your daughter needs stitches. We'll numb the area around the wound to prevent any pain, but I'm sure Ha-eun would like her dad around when it happens. "

"Of course. " The words slipped out of his mouth before Jungkook could stop himself. Deep down he knew he should probably insist on waiting until you came. You were Ha-eun's actual parent after all. He was simply the next door neighbor who occasionally watched Ha-eun.

The thought didn't last long as the doctor approached with a syringe. Ha-eun let out a terrified sob turning into further into his chest shutting up any doubts he had. "Noo...I don't want a shot. No shots please!" Ha-eun begged.

Gently Jungkook stroked her head, wary of the cut above her forehead. "Ha-eum. You need it to get better. "

"But I don't want a shot, Kookie. Shots scare me. " Ha-eun cried, clinging tighter to him.

Jungkook felt his heart squeeze from terror in her voice. It pained him so much to see Ha-eun like this. He honestly didn't know how you could handle taking her to the doctor, especially to get a shot. If it were up to him, Ha-eun would never get one.

"Ha-eun, sweetie, look at me." Jungkook said, guiding her gaze to him. "I know shots are scary, but I need you to be for me. I know you can do it, because you're my tough girl right?"

"Uh huh. " Ha-eun nodded, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "You won't leave though Kookie? Promise you'll stay?"

Jungkook smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. You can even squeeze my hand if it makes you feel better, okay?"

Ha-eun nodded placing her tiny hand into his larger one. "Kookie? Can we get ice cream after this? Mommy always takes me for icecream after shots."

"Ha-eun, we'll go anywhere you want once the doctor is done. " Jungkook swore. She could ask to go to Disneyworld for all he cared. Whatever Ha-eun wanted she would get.

The doctor loomed over her hand raised like the villain in some horror movie. "You'll feel a little pinch but that's all."

Ha-eun whimpered clutching onto Jungkook who gently rubbed her back. Thankfully the doctor was quick in his work only taking a few seconds to numb the cut. When he finished Jungkook let go a breathe he didn't know he was holding. The doctor smiled. "There. Not too bad, huh? Now onto the stitches!"

///

Kim Seokjin knew Jungkook since the boy was ten years old. They grew up in the same neighborhood together and Jungkook often tagged along with Jin wherever he went. In college, Jin acted as Jungkook's mentor/ big brother in their fraternity. Overall Jungkook was a little brother to Jin.

Which was why he could not believe his eyes upon seeing Jungkook act so grown up around you and your daughter. Jin didn't mean to be nosy. It just kind of happened. After dropping you off at the front entrance, Jin decided to make sure you and your daughter were alright. He expected to find Jungkook out in the waiting room not protectively hovering over Ha-eun and you. His arm wrapped around your waist in a half hug comforting you as the doctor performed stitches on Ha-eun.

If possible Jin's heart exploded in pride. His little Jungkookie all grown up. "She's okay. No signs of concussion, but they need to do some tests. " Jungkook murmured.

You shook a little but no tears or cries came out. Undoubtedly if not for Ha-eun's sake. "Thank God. When you called I was so scared. I immediately thought the worst. "

Jungkook rubbed your back soothingly. "I promise she's okay, (Y/N). She might have a mean cut but our Ha-eun is strong, she'll bounce back quick."

Our Ha-eun. Jin snorted at this. Out of everyone in their friend group Jungkook was one of the last they suspected to have kids. It wasn't that he didn't like them. More like there were other more kid oriented people like Taehyung or Jin himself. In fact they used to picture Jungkook as a permanent bachelor especially given his fear of women. However it appeared they guessed wrong. Ha-eun had Jungkook wrapped around her little finger.

"Thank you, Jungkook, for everything. If you hadn't picked up when the school called or called my work I don't know what I'd do." You said looking down. "You even came here when you didn't have to. "

"You thank me too much. I did what anyone else would do. " Jungkook replied.

You shook your head. "No you did not. I'm going to repay this time, Jeon Jungkook, I swear. "

Unfortunately Jungkook's response got muddled under a sharp cry from Ha-eun. Both of your attention turned on the young girl conversation forgotten as you two comforted her. From the outside looking in, the three of you looked like a real family, but then again you weren't you?

A few hours passed since the familial scene and Jin waited patiently for the doctor to release Ha-eun. He knew there was no real reason to wait. Neither you nor Jungkook knew about him waiting after all. If anything you probably thought he drove back to the restaurant already. Still Jin couldn't help but wait if only to talk to Jungkook for a little bit.

"I didn't know that the (Y/N) you always talked about was my (Y/N)." Jin hummed, leaning back against the plastic chair.

Ha-eun's scans thankfully showed no complications. She did have a slight concussion but after a couple hours of observation the doctor deemed it okay to go home. The only thing left now was some paperwork.

"She's not your (Y/N), hyung." Jungkook grouched pushing his hair back.. "Besides I told you plenty of times you just forget because of your old age. "

He was surprised by Jin's presence thinking he simply dropped (Y/N). However given his Hyung's kind nature it wasn't too shocking. Undoubtedly the older man worried about his best employee.

Jin sighed dramatically. "The disrespect I get after all those years of raising you on my back. How did you end up so poorly?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Throwing a tantrum isn't going to help your cause, hyungnim."

"No, but maybe telling (Y/N) about the time you passed out naked will." Jin threatened silencing him.

Three years ago Jungkook passed out drunk at a fraternity party. When he woke up the next day Jungkook found himself tied to the house's flagpole naked. A lesson from his brothers for being so stupid. It was the last time he ever got wasted. "You wouldn't dare." Jungkook growled.

Jin grinned challenging the maknae to try him. "Would you rather I tell her about how you jumped out a window to avoid a love confession?"

"You weren't even there, hyung! How can you tell her a second hand story." Jungkook frowned, nose wrinkling.

Jin laughed. "Jimin recanted the story very well. I feel like I was there when it happened. Besides you were always so scared around girls, it's not hard picturing it."

Jungkook rolled his eyes ignoring the embarrassment welling up in him. In general Jungkook fell shy around new people, hence his habit to hide behind his hyung as a teen. However women were the worst. "I've grown up hyung. I'm not the scared little kid I used to be. "

"I know. " Jin replied staring fondly at the boy. "You've grown up so much Jungkookie. I see it in the way you care for (Y/N) and her daughter. You're an adult now which is why I think you should admit your feelings to (Y/N). You both deserve it."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #bts imagines #neighbor!Jungkook #bts #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kookie #Jungkook x single mom!Reader

275 notes · View notes