#at least i can finally use the broke college student excuse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marblemoonstones · 1 year ago

Text

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter four

main masterlist

series masterlist

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, reader gets yelled at briefly, use of word bitch

word count: ~4.4k

a/n: sorry everyone, it’s been a while! been busy, but i hope you enjoy reading 🤎

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next couple weeks passed by in a blur, and before I knew it it was almost time for school to start up again. I’m going into my junior year at Seoul National University (sorry, super basic college) and am majoring in Education, as I want to be a teacher like Namjoon. But, unlike Namjoon, I don’t want to teach high schoolers. I want to be an elementary school teacher. (Sorry, I know it’s a pretty big time skip but I wanted to actually get to the college scenes lol)

The boys convinced me (more like begged me) to stay with them for school and said that “Your presence is payment enough!” (Minus Hoseok of course, as we’re still not on good terms for whatever reason) I finally relented after seeing the prices for dorms. Why were they so high for broke college students? Through these few weeks I have gotten to know the boys better.

Namjoon and I have gotten close because of our similarity in careers. We both are avid learners and want to help others learn and have bonded over many cups of tea. I know that I can go to him for any help with my schoolwork, and he says he will come to me for ideas because I am “younger and know what’s hip these days.” We also both love to read and have exchanged books frequently. He is more of a science fiction and fantasy type reader while I adore romance books (again, sorry if you don’t like these types of books). While I admit that his books are fascinating, I still prefer my cheesy, k-drama worthy books. There’s nothing better than us two sitting on my balcony reading all afternoon with some treats Jin or I baked.

Jin and I have become better friends through our cooking and baking. He is a master chef and much better than I will ever be, but it’s still fun to learn from him. It often makes me wonder why he is an actor and not a cook, but people can have more than one avid interest. My baking skills are modest at best, but I do still love to make different types of cookies as my mom taught me and to make cute mini lunchbox cakes for the boys to take to their work for a sweet treat.

More often than not I catch Yoongi looking at my treats longingly so I make more and send them with him to work. He is especially fond of my coffee cookies as I found him secretly eating them as a midnight snack one night. Yoongi and I have a mutual understanding where if we both need to relax for second and just breathe, we’ll seek out each other. I sometimes sit in his studio, just zoning out and giving myself a minute. And he sometimes will come find me in my room and just lay down next to me as I continue watching my show. These moments make me feel content.

Times that I do not feel content are whenever I’m with Hoseok. I genuinely want to at least be acquaintances, but he seems to want to be enemies forever. I try to reach out but every time he ignores me. More often than not he finds some excuse to not be in the room with me. I know the boys have noticed, but they haven’t said anything to me about it. I can only hope that with time he and I will eventually be able to tolerate each other.

With Jimin it has been a little harder to connect, but we eventually got to the point where we are now. While I’m not as close to him as the maknaes or even Yoongi, we still have a good bond. It all started when I asked if I could use the dance studio in the house (rich people, am I right?) for fun. I danced all through high school at a recreational studio and I enjoy it occasionally to keep me exercised. I was stretching when Jimin walked in and asked if he could watch. I was nervous at first but then once I got started I fell into my own world. Jimin applauded afterwards and I bowed, embarrassed. We both then danced together and that’s how our friendship started.

My friendship with the youngest two grew during those couple of weeks. After the shopping trip they decided that we were now a ‘trio of trouble’ and that we were besties. I’ll admit, sometimes I did feel a bit like I was third-wheeling them but for the most part it was great to have genuine friends. Sure, I had friends but they were mostly college friends that I didn’t see outside of school. But with Tae and Kook I felt that I could truly be myself. Endless hours of binging movies, playing video games, and doing stupid challenges/dares kept me entertained until my first day back.

Which is today. I’m not nervous, but I always get a small pit of dread in my stomach. I only have two classes today, Foundations of Education and Psychology (not me stealing these class names off a random college website haha). Foundations of Ed is in late morning, then I have a short break before Psych which is early afternoon. I have these classes three times a week, but they’re my only classes on those days.

I roll out of bed and rub my eyes before grabbing my glasses groggily. I knock on Jungkook and I’s shared bathroom and don’t get a response so I turn the knob and no one’s in there. I know today is also Jungkook’s first day of senior year but I’m fairly certain that he has a class around the same time as me. I wonder why he’s not up yet? Knowing him he overslept. That boy needs to learn to get a better sleep schedule. I lock both connecting doors and then carefully place my glasses on the counter. After showering I hop out, put my glasses on (bad vision is a curse, and this author knows the struggle, trust me, but at least glasses/contacts exist) and after drying off I change.

I put on jean shorts and a pink shirt, and after going into my bedroom I grab my backpack and double check that I have all of my supplies. A couple notebooks, binders, and of course a pencil pouch that’s all stocked up. Notebook paper as well as folders are also neatly lined up. I zip it up and then make my way downstairs.

Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi are all at their respective jobs. Jin is taking a break from acting, so he’s mostly here and Taehyung has a shoot later in the afternoon so I know he is also around.

Sure enough, Jin’s cooked me a ‘back to school breakfast,’ which is super sweet of him.

“Thank you so much Jin! You really didn’t have to do this,” I say to him.

“Of course I did! It you and our maknae’s first day back so you deserve a special breakfast,” Jin replies. “Speaking of, where is the little brat? He shouldn’t be sleeping because he has to get ready and take you both to school!”

“He’s still sleeping,” Taehyung says, walking down the stairs.

“Ugh, that kid will be the death of me. I’ll go get him. Eat up!” Jin goes upstairs, mumbling under his breath about how annoying Jungkook is.

I laugh, then sit down with Taehyung and start eating. Taehyung grins his boxy smile and says, “I wonder if Jungkookie will be late on his first day. If he is, I can take you to school.”

“I don’t think that Jin will let Kook be late,” I say, thinking of the father-like eldest.

“True. He’ll probably drag Jungkook by his hair if that means he gets up,” Taehyung says, laughing.

About ten minutes later a weary looking Jungkook and an irritated Jin come walking down the stairs.

“See, this is why you need to be more like y/n! She gets up on time and is actually prepared for school,” Jin scolds.

“Yeah yeah whatever hyung,” Jungkook says sleepily, sitting down at the table and eating a few bites of the now cold breakfast.

“Don’t ‘whatever hyung’ me, you have to promise that whenever you have school you’ll actually be ready,” Jin says.

“Okay fine I promise. Y/n you ready to go?” Jungkook says, standing up from the table and going to get his shoes on.

“Yep,” I reply, going to put on my white converse.

“Bye! Have a good first day!” Jin and Taehyung say as we leave.

Jungkook drives a nice sedan today instead of one of the rich luxurious cars they normally drive.

“Are you excited?” I ask Jungkook, “You’re almost done with school!”

“I’m excited to be done with it,” Jungkook agrees. We pull up and he parks then we get out and get ready to head to our respective classes.

“Well have fun with your Foundations of Ed class. You don’t need a ride home after, right?” Jungkook asks me.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m going to chill here through lunch until my Psych class then I’ll take the bus home.”

“You know you can call any of us to take you home right? We wouldn’t mind,” Jungkook says.

I know they wouldn’t care but I don’t want to bother them with me.

“Oh, you’re all busy people so don’t worry about it! Here come some of your friends so I’d better go.” There are a couple guys and girls who are walking up to Jungkook.

“Hey Jungkook!”

“Good to see you bro!”

“How was your summer?”

“Who’s this?”

The last question comes from a snobby looking girl. Her inky black hair is up in a high ponytail and she looks at me with disdain.

“Oh, this is y/n. She’s the one who’s staying with me and the boys for a while,” Jungkook says, introducing me.

“Hi y/n, I’m Felix.” He waves at me and I wave back.

“I’m Jackson,” says the next boy, grinning at me.

“I’m Hwasa,” says the girl next to the snobby one.

“And I’m Haneul,” says snobby girl.

“Nice to me you all,” I say.

“So you’re the girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm!” Haneul says sweetly.

“Haneul,” Felix says through gritted teeth, “That’s not true.”

“I’m sure it is though, Felix. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Haneul now has the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, well I supposed so,” I say, deflated at the thought that the boys think I’m just a ‘girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm.’

“Um, y/n that’s not what-“ Jungkook starts, sensing my change in mood.

“I’ve got to get to class! Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you.” I interrupt Jungkook. Turning on my heel, I swiftly walk away from the group, hearing Haneul whisper under her breath, “I told you she was poor.”

I find my building and classroom and walk in. It’s a decently sized room with partner desks in neat rows. Some students are already sitting in desks chatting with each other.

I find a seat in the back right corner by the window so I can see outside. I can only hope no one will sit by me, but that seems to not be the case as a couple minutes later a tired looking boy asks if he can sit next to me. I say yes and he flops into the seat and lays his head on his arms.

“Oh, by the way my name’s Seungmin,” he mumbles before closing his eyes.

I smile, amused at his tiredness and turn my attention to the professor as she walks in.

“Good morning class and welcome to Foundations of Education. We will be learning the basics of education and teaching in this class. My name is Professor Shin. Now, let’s take roll.” As she starts calling names, I turn my attention to my sleeping deskmate. I wonder if I should wake him up?

“Choi y/n?”

“Here,” I say.

Eventually she gets to Seungmin.

“Kim Seungmin?”

I nudge his elbow but he doesn’t stir. Then I poke him. Hard. This makes his head shoot up and then sees everyone staring at him.

“Oh, uh, here.”

“Mr. Kim, if you could please refrain from sleeping in class that would be much appreciated,” Professor Shin says with an annoyed look on her face. She then continues on with attendance.

“Hey, are you okay? You look super exhausted,” I say to Seungmin, seeing how his eyes are red and have dark circles underneath them.

“I’m fine I just stayed up way too late last night,” he says.

I nod then turn back to the professor, who is now passing out a slyllabus. I take a deep breath then focus for the rest of the class.

After class I bid goodbye to a still sleepy Seungmin and head out to get lunch. There are picnic tables around campus so I grab something to eat then go sit at an empty one. I enjoy the breeze through my hair and the peacefulness of the trees. Until I see someone coming up to me out of the corner of my eye. I look and it’s Hwasa and Jackson.

“Hey y/n, can we sit here?” She asks.

“Sure.”

They sit and pull out their own lunches.

“We’re sorry about Haneul this morning,” Jackson says after chewing and swallowing, “She can be a bit…blunt sometimes.”

“Who’re we kidding Jackson, she’s blunt all of the time,” Hwasa says with an eye roll.

I appreciate these two apologizing for their friend’s action and like them immediately.

“You guys really don’t have to apologize. I mean, I am poor enough to not be able to afford a dorm,” I say.

“Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean she needs to be so bitchy about it, and besides, dorms are expensive for anyone,” Hwasa points out.

“Can we not talk about Haneul now please? I’m trying to eat,” Jackson complains. Hwasa and I laugh and we change the subject to school and finish our lunches.

“Thanks for letting us join you for lunch y/n,” Hwasa says as we clean up and throw away our trash.

“Of course. It’s nice to meet some of Kook’s friends!” I say, genuinely glad to have made more friends.

“Aww, you called him Kook. Are you two super close? You can tell us. We’ve been his best friends for ages now,” Jackson says.

I want to trust them, so I reply “I guess you could say that. We definitely have gotten closer these past couple of weeks.”

“Ooh, have you now?” I hear a horrible voice behind me. Of course it’s Haneul.

“You see, you may have gotten closer to Jungkook but I’ve known him since he was little. No one knows him better than me,” Haneul says, trying to intimidate me.

It’s true that I still know little about the boys’ background and upbringings, but I am still surprised that Jungkook would hang out with someone like Haneul. The boys also haven’t mentioned her at all.

“You only hung out because your parents were good friends with his,” Hwasa explains with yet another eye roll.

“Are you jealous Haneul?” Jackson teases, enjoying the glare in Haneul’s eyes.

“No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of a stupid nobody like her?”

Wow, straight to the point. I can try to ignore it, but I’m not sure if I can deal with another person hating me. Hoseok is more than enough.

“Excuse me, I need to get to my next class.” I leave as gracefully as I can but my body still reacts to her calling me stupid. I take a deep breath and try to calm my shaking hands and racing heart. Eventually I am calm enough to walk into my next class, but my hands still tremble.

I step into my Psychology hall, a big airy room made for a lot of students. There’s only a couple people in there as I am early because I was escaping from Haneul.

I take a seat near the middle because I want to be able to see the board. Soon the hall starts filling up with students. A girl sits to my left and eventually a guys sits on my right. Neither of them look at me and continue to talk to their friends around them.

The professor comes in, a kind looking man. He introduces himself as Professor Kim (so many Kims) and starts to talk. The class goes by quickly and then I’m free. First day of school done. I make my way out of the crowded hall and back into the sunlight. I check my phone and see that I have a couple missed text from Jungkook.

I’m sorry that Haneul said those things. I know ur not poor and I apologize for her words.

Y/n? Ur probably in class, but I just wanted to remind u that any of us would be happy to take u home after ur last class.

I smile at his Haneul text, but text him back to tell him that no one has to take me home.

I’m a big girl Kook, I can take myself home. But thanks :)

I am about to round the corner of the building when I hear Haneul talking. I stop when I hear that she’s talking about me.

“Honestly y/n probably just wants the boys money. She’s just a gold digger that acted all pitiful and the boys are too sweet to say no to her. I feel bad for her because as soon as the boys figure this out she’s going to be kicked out of their house. Actually that’ll be super funny!”

I hear tittering laughter and turn around to go the other way, eyes slightly glassy. Is this what everyone thinks? That I’m a gold digger? If they think that, then I won’t accept anymore gifts from the boys. Them letting me stay is more than enough and I don’t want them to hear these rumors because it will impact their reputation.

I blink the tears away and then continue to the bus stop. I check my phone to see that Jungkook has texted me again.

Look, I know u can handle urself but I don’t want anything happening to u. Hobi-hyung is free now and I sent him to pick you up. Just this once bc it’s the first day ok? :)

Great. I can’t let Hoseok see me like this. I sniff then blink and make sure I look okay before seeing a car pull up that has Hoseok in the driver’s seat. I text Jungkook back.

Ok just this once but no more after today Kook

I go up to the car and open the passenger door, climbing in to a stoic Hoseok.

“Hi Hoseok. Thanks for picking me up. You don’t ever have to do this again. I told Jungkook I will be taking the bus for the rest of the year.”

“That kid didn’t even think that I have dance today, so I’m taking you to my studio. We can then go home together afterwards with Jimin,” Hoseok says with his usual coldness.

Oh boy. Going to his work? This is great. Just great.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the light music of the radio.

We pull up to a modern looking building that says Epiphany. I get out and follow Hoseok inside. The receptionist greets us and then Hoseok tells me to wait out here.

“My class ends in an hour and so does Jimin’s. We’ll leave after that so just wait here patiently.” He then leaves and I’m left to sit in the rather comfy chairs. The receptionist smiles at me and tells me to tell her if I need anything.

There are two big glass windows and I can see into the studios. I see Jimin in one of them, leading stretches to younger looking children. I smile as they talk and laugh while doing their splits. I look to the other one and there’s Hoseok leading some college looking dancers in stretches too.

The front door swings open and in walks none other than Hwasa and Haneul.

“Oh my gosh, we’re late! Let’s go before Hobi kills us!” Hwasa says hurriedly, rushing to the studio with Hoseok in it. “Hi y/n!” She calls as she darts last me.

Haneul is in less than a rush than Hwasa. “Oh hello y/n. What are you doing here? Surely you aren’t here for class? Only the best of the best come here.”

“I’m just waiting for Hoseok and Jimin to finish their classes,” I say, trying to be polite even though I heard her hurtful words earlier.

“Oh you can’t even drive? That’s rough. Or is it that you don’t have a car?” Haneul asks with a look of pity on her face.

“I can drive perfectly fine, but I don’t have a car as of right now. Anyways, aren’t you late to your class?” I ask as nicely as I can.

“Oh yeah, guess I’d better head there. Have fun sitting!” Haneul bounces away and I sigh. She’s everywhere, so I guess I better get used to her and her rude words.

I turn my attention back to Jimin’s class. He’s leading the kids through the five ballet positions, walking around and fixing their legs and arms. His cheerful and encouraging smile makes me smile, and I can feel my heart flutter a bit. But, just as every time before, I push it away and remind myself that the boys are off limits. They all have each other and are happy. You’re just going after the first attractive people that you see y/n. And it just so happens to be your housemates. I can’t help that these are the kindest and most beautiful boys I’ve ever seen. They’re strictly friends to me and will stay that way.

I look at Hoseok’s class, seeing that they’re now done warming up and move on to dancing hip-hop and free styling. While most of the class is good, my eye is drawn to Hoseok. This makes sense, as he is the teacher, but for some reason I can’t tear my eyes away. He looks up as he’s dancing and our eyes lock on each other. I quickly look away, my cheeks burning as he probably doesn’t like me staring at him. But then I see that his eyes are turned away too, and there is a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Or it could just be that he’s tired and sweaty from dancing.

After both classes finish, I stand and stretch my arms from sitting for an hour. Hwasa comes out of the locker room and asks me, “What did you think? Were you impressed by my amazing dance skills?”

I laugh and reply, “Yes of course. I didn’t know that you could dance like that!”

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” Hwasa teases, “Like how you don’t know that Hobi was staring at you during class?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I say, dropping my voice to a whisper-yell, “He wasn’t looking at me! He hates me! And he’s dating six other boys!”

“Whatever they all like girls too…Unfortunately I have to go now, but give me your number and text me if any updates happen!” Hwasa swiftly grabs my phone and types her number in it, winks, and then saunters out.

That girl! Thinking Hoseok was staring at me…that’s ridiculous. She’s crazy. But I think that we’re starting a great friendship. And the boys also like girls? That’s new to me.

“Hi y/n! What did you think of our class?” That awful voice again. Haneul.

I force a smile before saying, “It was great! You all are so talented.”

“Why, thank you. I like to think so. I’m sure you’re good at something, right? Even poor people have some use in this world.”

This girl. Honestly, if poor is the worst insult that she can come up with, it could be much worse.

“Look, Haneul-“

“Did you just call y/n poor?” A voice behind us asks. We both look to see Hoseok, standing with his arms crossed and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Haneul smirks, and I know that she is thinking that Hoseok is going to agree with her. She’s probably right.

“Yes, I did call y/n poor. I mean, come on Hobi, we all know that she’s just leeching off of the boys and your money and that-“

“Haneul, even if I don’t particularly like someone that doesn’t mean I talk bad about them and call them names to their face and behind the back. That’s just rude. Don’t be a bitch.”

Haneul is shocked and storms out of the studio.

I turn to Hoseok to thank him.

“Thanks Hoseok. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing. No one deserves to be bullied by others,” he says bluntly.

“Look, can I just ask you one question? Why do you hate me?” I burst out, frustrated because he defended me but still is coldly talking to me.

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like change,” Hoseok says, sighing.

“Okay, well I just wish that you would’ve told me beforehand. I’m sorry for being change in your life and-“

“God y/n! Stop apologizing!” Hoseok shouts. I avert my eyes to the ground, as this is my usual tactic when someone yells at me. I try not to think of my ex.

I hear Hoseok apologize, low and slow.

Then he says, quieter, “Look, I don’t hate you and I wish that you would stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. Let’s get this out of the way; we may not like each other but let’s try to get along for the boys’ sake. Does that sound okay?”

I take a deep breath and nod.

“Sure, Hoseok.”

He does a small smile for the first time at me and holds out his hand.

“Getting along?”

I shake it.

“Getting along.”

a/n: i was going to write more, but i thought it was better to end here! looks like y/n and hobi are finally going to maybe get along! what do you think of haneul? and stray kids, hwasa, and jackson cameo! much love y’all. have an amazing day or night wherever you are 🫶🏼🩷

#bts #bts ot7 x reader #bts college au #college!au #ot7 bts #bts ot7 #btsot7 #marblemoonstones

38 notes · View notes

horangkwon · 2 years ago

Text

⭐ Veinte: Praying to the gods of broke college students.

wc: 950

ㅤ

—I don’t know what’s scarier… the debt, or the fact that we are blindly following Y/N—.

—Shut up, Seungkwan—.

Your hand hesitated before reaching for the knob, but you told yourself that things could not get worse than they already were… unless you got arrested. “No!” you thought to yourself “It’s not the time to be negative, if the police come we can just send them to meditate with Vernon and… Right, the door” you opened it and entered the manager’s office with quivering steps.

Nothing could have prepared you for whatever was waiting for you and your friends inside.

—Why is it so dark in here? Did the manager leave already?— Jiwon asked, completely ignoring Chan’s complaints about Jisun stepping on his foot.

Her question was answered when the lights suddenly lit up and the chair on the opposite side of the desk turned around to reveal a man wearing sunglasses and petting… a rock with a cowboy hat?

—This was definitely not on my bingo list for this vacation— Seungkwan whispered, to which you elbowed him before taking a step closer to the unknown man. Something about him seemed familiar to you, but you were not entirely sure what it was.

—Excuse me, Mr…— you squeezed your eyes to read his nametag —Choi, I’m here to discuss this— you carefully placed the ticket on the desk for him to see.

—Ah, yes, my staff warned me about this and told me that you might show up at my office— he said, not sparing a single look at the ticket but rather taking turns to analyze you and your friends from head to toe —I’m assuming that you are not here to pay what you owe us, and instead you want to convince me that this was all a big misunderstanding, or a mistake you made while being incredibly drunk…— he placed the rock on the desk, crossed his arms and looked at you, or at least you assumed so since you could not clearly see his eyes.

—I have to correct you there, Mr. manager— you said, earning confused looks from your friends who had started to believe that your plan was to beg on your knees for forgiveness. —I was planning on requesting an alternative way of payment…—.

—Are we gonna strip for money now— Chan said before getting his foot brutally stepped on once more by Jisun.

You closed your eyes a few seconds and took a deep breath to stop yourself from hitting your friend with the rock —If you let me, I can work here for as long as needed in order to pay off my debt—.

Silence.

You and the alleged manager Choi Seungcheol stared at each other, you could feel Jiwon burning holes into the side of your skull, but it was fine, there was no other way you could get out of this particular situation while keeping your name clean. —Fine— he finally said —Work diligently for six months here and you’re free to go—.

—Excuse me?!— Chan meddled again, and you were starting to regret letting him accompany you —How low does the salary have to be for Y/N to need six whole months of work?—. Well, he had a point. The rest of your group started murmuring in agreement, not fully believing their ears.

—Can all of you shut up?— Jiwon spoke, her cold and merciless tone making everyone, including the manager, go silent on the spot and look at her —Isn’t it obvious?— she pointed at the manager with her chin —He wants all of us to work for a month to help Y/N, that’s why he specifically said six—. You swore that you saw the man’s eyes shake for a second behind the glasses.

—You’re right— Seungkwan added —Also, his voice sounds exactly like the one that announced the party that night— the atmosphere was starting to get tense by the second; you could tell Vernon was craving some popcorn to watch the drama at a safe distance.

—Indeed, that was me, but I don’t see any problem with that— the manager said —I mean, it’s a part of my job to be in charge of announcements, and the reason we announced the party so late is that I accidentally messed up the schedule, but we could not let the food go to waste so we took a risk— he explained, effectively calming down some of your friends; needless to say, Seungkwan and Jiwon were still staring at him like angry mothers defending their kids from a tired McDonald’s employee who had added pickles to all the burgers. At some point, your team leader had even placed a hand on your shoulder in a protective manner.

—The reason why all of you should work for a month here instead of letting your friend take all the responsibility…— the man continued, completely unfazed by all the negative attention that was directed his way —...Is because I heard from one of my staff members that you guys are working on a project together—.

—Mr. TikTok star, that snitch…— Jisun mumbled under her breath.

—So I offer your team a place to stay together for a whole month, and also working only the morning or night shift, at your choice, so that you guys have time to do your project— he turned to Seungkwan with a smug smirk adorning his face and crossed his arms —Does it still look like I’m the bad guy here?—.

You glanced at your teammates for moral support, but all of them were completely speechless. —Fine— you said, praying to the Gods of Broke College Students so that you would not regret this later —We have a deal—.

ㅤ

❝⭐Five Dollars and a Dream.❞

Soonyoung's plan was perfect: get a degree in contemporary dance, upload covers on YouTube, perform on the streets, ???, become rich, and live in a gigantic mansion with a family of tigers. Well, there might be flaws in his logic, but his passion (and a lucky encounter) will push him to make his dreams a reality.

Previous ⭐ Masterlist ⭐ Next

A/N: Today I offer yall a chapter after almost a whole month🙏 med is hard i wish i was bukkeu and could make a living out of barking at seungkwan everyday

⭐ Taglist: @mitchieki @rubberduckieyourtheone @winterwallacehenderson @brook0310 @merapehlapyaarwaapasaagaya (Send and ask to be added<3)

#hoshi #hoshi smau #kwon soonyoung #seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen hoshi #seventeen x reader #hoshi angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #seventeen smau #seventeen social media au #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi reactions #hoshi imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines

16 notes · View notes

metzili · 6 years ago

Conversation

Me: six artists are touring in my city but im broke,,,khalid,,blackpink,,,txt,,,ariana,,,,

Jonas Brothers: we're going on tour!!

Me: please not atlanta

Jonas Brothers: Atlanta in August!!

Me: why

Try Guys: Hey!!! Tour!!! Atlanta in July!!!

Me: whatever god exists does so only to spite me

#at least i can finally use the broke college student excuse #i'm in tears #TXT #Blackpink #Khalid #Jonas Brothers #Monsta X #Try Guys #Ateez #Ariana Grande

17 notes · View notes

jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years ago

Text

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

4K notes · View notes

dandelionflower · 4 years ago

Note

I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

#felinette #ml felix #felix agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml alya #alya cesaire #ml nino #nino lahiffe #ml adrien #adrien agreste

362 notes · View notes

sunshineseung · 4 years ago

Text

Journal Part 1 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.8k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!virgin!jeongin, invasion of privacy (not the cardi b album), smut within the smut??? [handjob, begging, “mommy”], mentions of voyeurism, light dom/sub themes, “mommy” kink, teasing, stripping, blowjob/oral (m!receiving), no swallowing

☀️ | synopsis: Yang Jeongin babysits your two children, and he’s always been the most polite boy you’ve ever met. Unfortunately for him, he leaves his secret journal at your house one evening, and your curiosity got the better of you.

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

Being a single mother was never in your plans. After your husband left you with two kids, your world nearly fell apart. You went from being a stay-at-home mother to working two jobs. The daycare took care of your dayshift, but your night shifts were harder to arrange a babysitter for. That is until you offered the position to your next-door neighbor’s son. They complained about how he was in desperate need of a job, being in his first year of college with no work history. Your offer was perfect for them, and Jeongin was happy to fill the position. He was always the nicest kid, and you could see his eyes light up at the idea of working for you, or more likely, at the concept of getting paid.

He’d come over to your house at 5:00pm, book bag on his back, ready to do homework while he watched your kids play. Your two daughters were quick to warm up to him, and the rest is history. He was the best babysitter you could ask for, and even if you had to stay late at work, he was always understanding. Jeongin was a perfect kid with good grades and a good heart, and you’d always see him writing in a journal. When you asked him about it, he’d say he’s “writing a story for class.” It was always the same excuse, day after day. You paid no mind, more worried about the status of your kids after you’ve left them with a teenager for hours.

Jeongin was very protective of his special journal. It was just a regular composition book, but whatever he wrote in it was sacred to him. He’d hide it from you when you walked by and hold it close to his face as he wrote. Whatever he wrote was his little secret, but if it’s for a class like he said, it can’t be that terrible, right?

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Returning home from a late shift, you see Jeongin settled on the couch, sleeping with his phone in his hand. His head was back and his mouth was wide open, snoring loudly. You nudge him to wake him up, but he doesn’t budge. All you can do is scoff at him and check on your daughters in their room just as sound asleep as their babysitter. Going back to the living room, Jeongin’s turned to his side, snoring quieter than before. You sit right at his feet and get comfortable, kicking your feet up on the coffee table and turning on the TV. When your heel lands on the table, you kick over Jeongin’s journal, the book falling to the ground and opening to a blank page.

Your eyes dart to Jeongin and back at the book, and you’re mentally debating whether or not to look through it. You’ve hardly talked to the boy aside from a few conversations about school in a “back in my day” type dialogue. This would be a major invasion of privacy, but there’s no way it’s a diary. He writes in it constantly, how would it be a diary?

You pick up the notebook, looking at the cover that read “Yang Jeongin Journal 1” on the title lines. Skipping to the one of the first few pages, you read a couple lines, which turns into reading a paragraph, and later an entire page. The more you read, the more you begin to understand why he hid it from you while boldly writing in front of you. Your jaw hangs slack as your eyes glaze over the lewd words written on the page. Your mind is blown imaging the sweet boy Jeongin imagining these scenarios, especially when you realize that you’re the other character.

Her hand feels like heaven wrapped around my cock, stroking me up and down as I quickly become breathless from the sensation. She looks into my eyes, staring me down like a predator watching her prey. Her touch quickly becomes overwhelming as my dick starts to twitch in her hand, begging to cum despite her only beginning to play with me. I thrust into her hand, hips quaking as I seat myself again. “Please let me cum, mommy.” Y/n laughs and nods her head, lowering her lips to my cock, ready to catch my release on her gorgeous face.

Seeing your name on the paper makes your heart jump. All of these dirty thoughts that Jeongin pens in his journal are about you. As you shuffle through the pages, your name is practically highlighted to your eyes. Every few pages, there’s a description of your body or what you wear, occasionally an imagine of you undressing in your bedroom window that happens to face Jeongin’s bedroom. Although you always keep your curtains shut, Jeongin’s writing describes him hoping that you leave your curtains open to put on a show for him, undressing slowly until you notice Jeongin jerking off in the house across the fence.

You slam his journal shut. You’ve seen enough. Laying it down on the table as it was before, you attempt to calm yourself and watch the TV you’ve been craving to watch since you got off work. Despite your best efforts, your mind begins to wonder to Jeongin, sleeping quietly beside you, and how ecstatic he’d be if you’d reenact some of the scenes he wrote in his special journal.

Jeongin groans and stretches, finally waking up from his nap. You tap his leg to signal that you’re home, and he nearly jumps out of his skin feeling you near him. He coughs as he sits up, pressing down his shirt to get out any wrinkles and fixing his hair that looks like a bird’s nest.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You laugh, smiling brightly at him as if you weren’t just reading his book of sexual fantasies. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yes, yes!” Jeongin fumbles over his words, worried that you’re about to fire him for sleeping on the job. “I’m so sorry! I promise I didn’t fall asleep until after the girls went to sleep.” He bows his head, sincerely apologizing for something any college student would reasonably do once work was over.

“No worries. I’m sure my girls were in good hands.” You reach for his journal and hand it to him, and he begins to turn a bright shade of red. He knows what’s in that book, but he assumes you’re still naive. “I almost used your little book as a footrest, so put this somewhere safe, okay?”

“Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to leave it out. I was just writing in it until I fell asleep.” He grabs his bookbag and shoves it in gently.

“Wow, you write in that thing a lot.” You cross your legs and you face him, totally ignoring the television show at this point. “How long have you had that assignment for class?”

You clearly caught him off guard. He seems confused before he remembers his lie, widening his eyes once he realizes that he’s about to dig himself into a hole. “Oh, it isn’t just one assignment. It’s for my creative writing class.”

“Ah, I had a creative writing class too.” If he was going to lie to your face, it was only fair that you rebuttal with another lie. “Can I read some of what you wrote? Maybe give you some critique?”

Jeongin’s mind went blank. He broke out in a cold sweat. If he lets you read it, his life will be over, but on the other hand, if he doesn’t let you read it, it will look sketchy since it’s just supposed to be innocent writing for a freshman level college class.

“Uh, it’s a little personal.” He’s adamantly avoiding eye contact with you, looking anywhere but your face. “I don’t think that would be appropriate since you’re my next door neighbor.”

“Not appropriate, huh?” You can’t help but smirk, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees the sideways smile grow on your face. His heart begins to dip as he finally starts to connect the dots, thinking that his job, no, his existence as your neighbor could end within a matter of minutes. “What’s so inappropriate about wanting your neighbor, who is over ten years older than you might I add, to sit on your face and call you her baby boy? Hm?”

Jeongin is frozen in place. He’s been outed. All of his wildest sexual fantasies have been revealed to the woman he wants to do them with. Knowing you’ve read his journal at least a little bit, he can’t help but get hard under his joggers, mentally cursing himself for wearing them once he notices your eyes drift to the tent in his pants.

“Sorry, but curiosity killed the cat on this one.” You scoot closer to him, taking his hands in yours and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand to warm him up. “I can’t believe my neighbor’s cute little son grew up to be such a dirty minded boy that can’t keep his thoughts in his head, but has to put them on paper so he can read them and imagine his neighbor fuck him again and again.”

“How much did you read?” Still with his head down, he squeaks out the question that’s been running through his mind since you started teasing him with your words.

“I read enough.” You remove one of your hands from the hold and perk his chin up so he has no choice but to look at you. His eyes are sparkling with lust as you’re just centimeters from his face. “Tell me, Jeongin, what do you want me to do to you?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

He pauses to ponder and collect his thoughts. Everything he’s ever imagined is running through his read: the pet names, the toys, the punishments, the pleasure. It’s all too much, and he can hardly speak another word before you pet his face, holding his head in your palm as he shyly presses his cheek into your hand.

“M-mommy,” he had never said that word out loud to you before, “can I strip for you?”

“All for me?” You smile, gladly accepting this offer. “Go ahead, baby boy. Show mommy what she’s been missing.”

He removes himself from you and stands up, timidly facing you as you lounge back on your couch. His shirt goes first, being neatly tossing onto the couch where he once sat. His fingers fiddle with the hem of his sweatpants before he pulls them down, showing you his bulge that’s painfully pressed against his tight boxer briefs. He’s bigger than you expected him to be, but that’s welcomed in your eyes.

You hold your hand out, stopping him before he can pull down his underwear. Standing up with a groan, you walk around his body, eyeing him up like he’s a buffet. One of your hands gently grabs at his ass, squeezing the skin between your fingertips and making him whine. You bite your lip when you hear him, sounding cute as a button despite the situation. From behind, you pull him back to you and run your hands around his body to feel his toned abs, finally moving upwards to tease his erect nipples. You feel him take a deep breath to calm himself, but when one hand pinches his nipple, he whines again, louder this time.

“Quiet, baby. You don’t want to wake the girls, do you?” When you whisper in his ear, all of the thoughts leave his head. You’ve hardly touched him and he’s dumb, and as embarassing at it is, he loves feeling helpless in your arms. “I haven’t seen another man like this in ages. You’re exactly what I need right now, Jeongin.”

“Y-you need me?” He can hardly believe that you’re just as horny over him as he is for you, although his longer dates back far longer than just an hour or so. You hum in his ear as your hands slide down his torso to his cock, palming him over his underwear. He hisses and moans from the lightest stimulation. His reaction to all of your touches is perfect, and you can’t wait to see how he reacts when you’re riding him or sucking him off, although you could do anything to him and he’d be thankful.

You remove your hand from his cock and pull down his underwear, finally seeing his length in all its glory. He gasps from how fast you undress him, but at the same time, he loves being on display for you. As much as he wants to hide his erection out of reflex, he holds his arms to the side tightly, allowing you to come in front of him and take in the view.

“Jeongin, are you a virgin?” As embarrassing at it is, he nods and holds his breath, waiting for you to answer. “Aw, my pretty little boy’s never been fucked? That must be why you’re so infatuated with me.”

You get down on your knees so you’re eye-level with his cock, now red and angry, begging to be sucked. Although your skills might be a little rusty, if your ex-husband’s reviews were any indication, you were about to blow this kid’s mind. With a little lick, he’s whining and staring down at you as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock before moving back again and wrapping your hand around him like he’s always imagined.

“Do you want to sit down?” Your voice sounded so calm and gentle, it was honestly shocking to Jeongin since he could hardly speak at all. He nods, and you take him to sit back on the couch. He spreads his legs for you to sit in between, once again jerking him off with one hand while the other plays with his balls. You kiss the tip before taking his member into your mouth, bobbing your head only around the tip.

Jeongin’s convinced himself that he’s dreaming when he looks down to see your face moving up and down the very top of his cock. It feels so good, better than he could have ever imagined, and surely better than his hand. As you slowly start to take him more into your mouth, he’s clutching onto the couch cushion for dear life. He gets close very fast, tapping his thigh with one hand to try to convey that he’s about to cum. Quickly catching on, you take him fully into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat, almost making you gag.

After a few twitches of his cock, you feel him cumming down your throat as he moans out expletives from the overwhelming sensation. When he’s finally done, you pull your mouth off of him and let his cum drip out of your mouth and onto your chest, which was still covered by your button-down work shirt. When Jeongin finally opens his eyes, he’s greeted by you lazily resting your head on his thigh, looking up at him, waiting for him to come back down to Earth.

“Ah, thank you, mommy.” In his post-nut state, the name he’d given you leaves his lips more hesitantly, but he knows that’s what you want to hear. Looking up at the clock, he notices that it’s past his self-determined bed time, but he’s still dazed enough to not care, at least for a moment. “That felt so good.”

“And maybe tomorrow night we can do more, hm?” You slide onto his lap, his soft cock resting between your thighs. “I’d love to ride my baby boy and finally take his virginity… only if you want of course.”

“I- … Yes, I’d love that.” Before he can say another word, you kiss him on the lips, and despite them just being around his cock, your kiss is sweet, and he needs more of it. Trying to avoid a make-out session, you pull away and get off of the boy’s lap, telling him to get dressed and go home so you can both sleep.

Your goodbye to him is the same as always, waving as he walks back home, but knowing what’s going to transpire tomorrow night, you can’t help but finish yourself off after being all worked up from Yang Jeongin. You decide to save your panties from today before you get into the shower, because they’re absolutely drenched and you’re sure Jeongin would love to have them for when he’s home alone.

After pleasing yourself in the shower, you peek out your bedroom window. Just as you had hoped, Jeongin’s curtains were wide open, and he was beating his cock with one hand and sucking on his fingers with the other. He was clearly thinking about you by how he’d had his journal sitting next to him opened to a random page.

You sleep good that night, pleased and excited for tomorrow. Although you were always the submissive one, you came to realize that maybe being the one in control was just what you needed.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut #yang jeongin smut #skz fan fiction #stray kids fan fiction #sub!skz #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin #i.n

621 notes · View notes

axwalker · 3 years ago

Text

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC.

Words: 4,110

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!!

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent.

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up.

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony.

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence.

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done.

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.”

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long.

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.”

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was.

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me.

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.”

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.”

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion.

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.”

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—”

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City.

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.”

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…”

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along.

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper.

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

Drake

What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me.

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.”

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.”

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.”

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

“I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.”

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly.

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand.

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.”

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside.

“What can I do?” I ask.

“How long do we have?”

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead.

“Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?”

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway.

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine.

“I can’t just leave, can I?”

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?”

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?”

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.”

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.”

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything.

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

#tw domestic violence #toxic relationship #tw bullying

67 notes · View notes

kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

the countdown

Summary: There’s a countdown on your wrist, but what happens when it randomly resets?

Pairing: Daichi x Reader, Hinata x Yachi (side pair)

Warning: Fluff, I guess?

Word Count: 3578

Prompt: Soulmate AU: There is a clock countdown on your wrist to when you meet your soulmate

A/N: Part of the @celestialarchiveshq soulmate collab

Y/N

It has always annoyed you, the ticking clock on the underside of your wrist, to the point that you started wearing things to cover it. Over the years, you watched people close to you obsess over the clock, a few of your college friends had dropped out because the constant partying and searching to meet their soulmate seemed to overshadow their grades.

When you were younger the idea of the clock reaching 0:00 excited you, meeting the person who was supposed to know you best, who wouldn’t want that? But as you matured, you started to believe that soulmates don’t always mean forever, they don’t always mean romantic partners, so how could you stay excited over something that could lead to a huge disappointment? Not to mention the depressing thought of what if your soulmate was the romantic type and they weren’t attracted to you. That could happen, right?

What if they preferred long hair but you had just cut it? Or the opposite? What if you had just colored your hair a color that reminded them of an ex? That thought would put you in a tailspin. What if they had exes? Even with the soulmate system, people still found themselves attracted to other people. It made you think of that trashy MTV show where everyone has a perfect match, but there’s always one couple that finds out they aren’t matches, but they refuse to move on. What if your soulmate had someone like that?

You drop your head down onto your desk, the loud bang catches your coworker’s attention as she walks back towards you with two mugs of coffee. Not that she needs it, just like her soulmate, she’s like an endless ball of energy.

“Still upset about last weekend?”

You slowly lift your head, rubbing your forehead knowing you’ll have some embarrassing red mark. Yachi Hitoka has to be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, she’s always there for anyone who needs it, helps out whenever she can, and at first you were worried when you met her. You instantly became protective of her, not wanting anyone to take advantage of her kindness, but then you saw her lay down the law when it came to someone missing a deadline for one of the ad campaigns and all you could do was smile proudly.

“I just can’t believe I was this close,” you hold up your hand, using your index finger and thumb to show a small amount, “to meeting them and they just disappeared.”

* * Over the weekend, Yachi’s soulmate Hinata Shoyo came in from Osaka to visit and the three of you ended up attending the Bunkyo Plum Blossom Festival. Despite being the third wheel, you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling, watching just how well they not only complimented their similarities but their differences as well.

You glanced down at your wrist, for no particular reason and felt the wind get knocked out from your lungs. Yachi turned to ask if you had heard her before she stopped walking, backing up to be at your side.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t find the words, your mind completely blanked as you held up your wrist, showing her just how low the clock had gotten.

00:01:13

00:01:12

00:01:11

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Yachi started to jump up and down, causing a small scene on the tightly packed sidewalk. Hinata tilted his head, waiting to be filled in as the two of you walked back towards him.

“Kinda romantic, Y/N. Meeting your soulmate at a festival.” Yachi now had her arm looped with yours, scanning the sidewalks.

“It’s never been this low before.” You said casually, but a knot started to form in your stomach. It felt as if every emotion you could imagine started to wash over you, grabbing ahold of you and making you realize just how real the situation could be.

What if they didn’t like you? What if it was a best friend type of soulmate? What if they simply brushed you off, telling you that they were going to be with someone that wasn’t their soulmate?

What if…?

Yachi hand slightly squeezed your arm, pulling you from the anxiety that had seemed into your chest, tightening with each breath. “Look at your wrist.”

00:00:20

You started to look around, wondering briefly if your soulmate had been looking around for you, eyes on the clock waiting to bump into you.

00:00:13

Your stomach dropped and you walked over to a wall, leaning against it with fear that you’d just drop if you didn’t have support. Wasn’t this supposed to be an exciting moment in your life? If so, then why did you currently feel like you were about to melt into a puddle of nerves?

00:00:09

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up, seeing two uniformed officers standing around you. Hinata quickly drug Yachi up to the brunette officer, the three seeming to be familiar with each other while raven-haired officer was waiting for your reply.

“Oh, uhm, yes.” You felt dumb, but you held up your wrist, “just a little nervous.”

00:00:07

He let out a small chuckle, “I’m sure things will be fine. My husband ran into a light post when we first met.”

Yachi waved you over, you could hear her mention your name to the other officer but your movement halted when the officers’ radios crackled, a voice requesting back-up. The two officers quickly excused themselves, a few other officers gathering around them before they left, disappearing around the corner.

When you saw a person walking towards you, you glanced down, wondering it this person could be it, but something in you cracked noticing a drastic change in the clock on your wrist.

1368:59:52

* * 1200:03:25

50 days.

That’s how long you have to wait to meet your soulmate. But would you ever meet them? You had asked around and no one else had ever heard of someone’s clock restarting, what if you didn’t actually have a soulmate? If it was just some glitch, your clock just resetting to some random time like an electronic clock after the power cuts out and then back on.

Absentmindedly, you sip on the coffee Yachi had brought you, looking out the window wondering that if it wasn’t a glitch, had your soulmate being eagerly looking for you that day too? Were they just as upset that your clocks reset? A smile twitches on the corner of your lips, maybe the whole soulmate thing wasn’t so bad after all.

* * * * Daichi

Sawamura Daichi tilts his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a yawn. Daichi is tired and stressed, all he wants is to sink into his bed and sleep. At least until his clock hit zero and his soulmate was standing in front of him.

He pulls himself up in the chair, rubbing his eyes before glancing down at the countdown that’s on his wrist. He isn’t someone that spends large amounts of time staring and obsessing over each tick of the clock, but just a few weeks ago, it seemed to have reset and that alone caught his attention.

960:12:46

40 days.

Part of Daichi wants to say the clock on his wrist doesn’t bother him, that it’s not something he thinks of often, but that’s a lie. His dedication to his job, to protecting not just his loved ones, but those around him often painted him as a strict, by the book type of guy. The guy that wouldn’t bother to think of love or soulmates, being too focused on his job, but Daichi is just another hopeless romantic.

Which is exactly why he often wonders how it will fit in with the whole soulmate aspect. Even with the ups and downs his job brought, the uncertainty that sometimes came with each day, he has never regretted his choice of profession. But while those things didn’t sway his own personal opinion, it leaves him wondering how his soulmate would feel about it. If it would be something that they’d be able to accept and understand why he went that route.

What if they couldn’t accept it? What if they asked him to change careers? What if it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and tore them apart?

What if…?

“Keep it up and you get forehead wrinkles.”

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, turning to see his silver-haired best friend smiling at him. Sugawara sits across from Daichi, the two finally having a free day to meet and catch up.

“Keep worrying about me and your hair will go white.” “Take that back right now Daichi!” Suga rolls his eyes as the former captain starts laughing.

After ordering drinks, the conversation sways to Suga and his new group of students before it inevitably goes to Daichi and his soulmate mark. When he called the former setter, he, like everyone else, had never heard of a mark resetting, but he refused to let his best friend dwell on it. Even now, Suga places a comforting hand on Daichi’s forearm as he gives him a comforting smile.

“Maybe fate decided it wasn’t the right time.” Suga offers, he didn’t have too much room to talk. His current significant other isn’t his soulmate and yet he refuses to let it go, saying that what he has makes him happy and that’s all that should matter.

Daichi sighs, taking a sip on his drink, one of his fears sitting on the tip of his tongue. “What if I end up arresting my soulmate?” “You’d have a pretty unique meet-up story. Ow!” Suga rubs his shin, Daichi sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“That aside, it doesn’t change the fact that it reset in Tokyo and I was just there temporarily.”

“Visit on a day off.” Suga shrugs, “though you were there for a festival that attracts tons of people.”

“I hope you’re better at advice when it comes to your students.”

Suga rolls his eyes, shoulders drooping in defeat, he really was out of ideas. “When exactly did it reset?”

“Not sure, it was low before I ran into Hinata, but by the time I got back from a call it had already reset.”

“Was there anyone else around? Besides Yachi.” Daichi just shakes his head, finishing off his drink before he twists his wrist causing the ice to circle around the glass. Then it hits him, there had been someone else, but he didn’t get a good glance, his partner was talking to them. He simply shrugged it off back then, but now he wondered if maybe, just maybe they had been his soulmate.

* * * * Y/N

720:03:36

30 days

You’re dancing around your apartment, headphone in as you straighten up the throw blankets on the couch, so you didn’t hear the knocking on the door or the voice calling you until you turned and let out a scream.

You’re doubled over, panting as you struggle to catch your breath, Yachi apologizing frantically and repeatedly until you finally stand up, telling her you were just a bit startled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The worry on her face as plain as day.

“I swear,” you flop down on the couch, “what’s up?” “Oh yeah!” She instantly perks up, “my high school is doing an alumni volleyball game and Hinata’s going to be in it. Thought you might want to join!”

“When is it?” You know this is her way of saying ‘you can’t meet your soulmate if only go to work and home’ but you were pretty confident that if you waited long enough, they could just end up moving in next door.

“Next month! It’ll be so much fun!” She pulls her hands up to her chest, putting on her best pouty face, “please Y/N.”

You want to just tell her no because who knows what you could end up doing that clashes with her plans. Plus, if you had counted correctly and your clock didn’t decide to reset again, that would be close to when you were supposed to meet your soulmate. And you had been in Tokyo when it almost hit 0, so they had to be here, right?

“Yeah, of course.” You gave her a smile as she gave you a quick hug, telling you just how excited Hinata and the rest of the crows would be, apparently, she bragged about you to all her former classmates. She excuses herself to make a call, most likely to Hinata, and you take the time to sigh, you had never cared about your soulmate before, what was so different now?

* * * * Daichi

“Did you just put in for time off?” His partner Ito teases, sitting down at his desk that’s next to Daichi’s.

“I’ve taken time off before.”

“Three years ago, doesn’t count.”

“It was—” Daichi starts to protest before he realizes that Ito’s right, the last time was just before Ito was assigned his partner and it had been for one of his sibling’s graduation.

“This much be important then.”

He shrugs, “just getting together with some old teammates from high school.”

Ito smirks, “should I call you captain to help take you back?”

“Don’t even.” Daichi shakes his head, getting up before heading to the breakroom. Maybe meeting up with old friends would help take his mind off the whole Tokyo debacle. Glancing down, he signs when he sees his countdown.

480:52:46

20 days.

* * * * Y/N

“My mom said that you are more than welcomed to stay, she has the guest room ready.” Yachi beams, bringing you the usual after lunch coffee she gets. For the last few days Yachi has been eagerly gushing about the upcoming alumni event, having the entire weekend planned out with tons of things to do.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t, if anything she’s excited to finally meet you!”

You haven’t had the courage to actually tell Yachi that you no longer wanted to go, that you would rather just stay at home instead of being the one that brings down the mood. The countdown on your wrist has all but consumed you lately and as you get closer and closer, you just want to forget about it. People lived happily without them, right? Who was fate anyways, trying to tell people who they should and shouldn’t be with. If you put in the effort, anything could work, right?

Part of you knows that’s not true, you watched someone try to date their someone who wasn’t their soulmate. They were blissfully happy and everything seemed wonderful, until one of them met their soulmate and soon their relationship had burnt out. It seemed no matter what, that bond from a soulmate just overfloods anything else.

But then again, when you watched just how much Yachi lights up when she hears from Hinata or when someone mentions him, you couldn’t help but want that too. Wanting someone who acted like they were seeing you for the first time each time they saw you, being able to just know how you felt with one look. You look down at the clock again, wondering if maybe it had reset because you didn’t have the right mindset back then. That if maybe fate somehow knew you weren’t ready yet, if it took almost having them to losing them for you to finally realize just how much a soulmate could offer you when you let your guard down.

240:26:01

10 days.

* * * * Daichi

Night patrols are something Daichi never really thought he’d find himself enjoying, but the ability to just causally drive around in silence is more welcoming that he considered it would be. Originally, his partner Ito was supposed to have patrol but he offered to pick it up since he was getting the next few days off to visit with his former classmates, he really didn’t mind the last-minute change to his schedule. Especially since he was getting nervous thinking about the game tomorrow, it wasn’t that he was worried about his skill set, but there were going to be several pro players in attendance.

It was already 8:45PM which meant he only had 15 minutes before his shift ended and he could go home, which he figured would go by slowly since most people were already in for the night. The sudden blur of speeding headlights catch his eyes and he let out a defeated sigh, of course it was too much to ask for a quiet night.

16:14:32

* * * * Y/N

Shit!

You curse yourself, you had told Yachi that you’d take the train to Miyagi, she left the day before to meet up with Hinata, but you ended up staying later at work than intended. So here you are, five hours into your drive, half asleep and irritated, you should’ve just told her no.

You hear your phone going off, no doubt it’s Yachi asking where you are, you look down briefly to grab it, not paying attention to the change in speed limits as you continue down the road. It’s not until you hear police sirens that your attention is pulled away from everything else and you just want to scream.

Luckily due to the almost empty streets, you are able to pull over with ease, the patrol car pulling in behind you shortly after. You close your eyes, hitting your forehead to the steering wheel repeatedly before you hear a car door close and brace yourself.

* * * * Daichi

He taps on the driver’s side window twice with his knuckle, waiting for it to be rolled down. A speeding ticket wouldn’t take long to write up, so his plans to be home by 9:30PM was still looking good which he was thankful for.

As the window rolls down, he catches his soul mark in the reflection and he scrunches up his face, getting an odd look from the driver of the vehicle.

00:00:02

* * * * Y/N

“This is awkward, but—” You stop, noticing where his line of sight is and you finally look down at your wrist.

00:00:00

He smirks, “I never thought I’d meet my soulmate right before issuing them a speeding ticket.”

You aren’t completely sure why, but you end up laughing to the point you end up coughing. You couldn’t believe it, your whole life wondering at what moment you’d meet your soulmate, thinking of all the different situations that could possibly set up running into them, for it to end up like this. Talk about anticlimactic.

“Speaking of soulmates, think you could let me off with a warning?” You bat your lashes at him, really hoping that the soulmate card will work.

He clicks his tongue, smile on his face, “no can do.”

You drop your jaw in disbelief, “I guess this will be one hell of a meet-cute story, huh?”

* * * * “You are so lame, Daichi.” Sugawara laughs, Nishinoya joining in on joking with their former captain.

Daichi glances over to the other side of the gym where you are, laughing with Yachi and Kiyoko and he can’t help but be smitten. He had tried for the longest time to not imagine his soulmate, not wanting to put that imaginary burden of being what he had wanted on the one he ended up with, but with you, you just smashed through any expectations he had and it had only been half a day.

You look over and see Daichi looking at you before you quickly turn your head away, getting a laugh from the former team managers. You were thrilled to have your soulmate, everything made sense, and it definitely helped that he was easy on the eyes.

“I still can’t believe he gave you a ticket!” Yachi protests, shooting Daichi a scold.

“I can.” Kiyoko smiles, “and I don’t think Y/N minds.”

Kiyoko’s right, you don’t really mind at all, because that’s part of your story with your soulmate, with Daichi. The person who had you waiting at the edge of your seat since before you could even tell time, the person that the stars had willed to be yours.

The first time you had almost met, he was in Tokyo because the festival needed more officers to help monitor things, it was just by chance that he ran into his former classmates that you happened to be with. The time you actually met, he was covering a shift that he wasn’t even supposed to be working and you were running late which was something you didn’t tend to do.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, placing a soft kiss on the side of your forehead. You let yourself melt into his side, finally understanding what was so special about soulmates, why so many people spent forever trying to find theirs.

“You know, I can talk to my boss, erase the ticket.” “No way! I’m gonna frame it!”

Daichi’s face deadpans, “what?” You nod, “oh yeah, you aren’t gonna live that one down.”

Daichi just shakes his head, letting out a deep breath, suddenly realizing you were gonna be as much trouble as Kageyama and Hinata were. But somehow, he feels himself looking forward to the adventure that was you.

#haikyuu!!#hq daichi #haikyuu sawamura daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader #daichi x y/n #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu soulmate au #soulmate au #hq soulmate au #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fluff #hq fanfic #post timeskip daichi #hq post timeskip #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi x reader

170 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago

Text

Apprentice.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Warning: Forced kissing (?) idk how to put it. Almost one non-consensual kiss.

Summary: Doctor Strange, World's Greatest Sorcerer, is in love with his apprentice. Unfortunately, when it comes to love, he's a dumbass.

Author's Note: Hey guys I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long! My college started, my classes are going on in full force and I haven't written anything readable in so long ugghhhh hope you guys enjoy this (Except for Loki, Spider-Man, Bonky and Steeb, the other characters' fics don't do that well 😳 but I'ma post this nonetheless)

---

Stephen POV:

I sighed as I watched Y/N sitting on the floor talking and joking around with the Cloak of Levitation. "Skedaddle, skedoodle..." "Y/N—" "Your dick is a noodle!" Levi made a happy noise and wrapped itself tightly around Y/N. She completely ignored me, laughing as the cloak hugged her.

Y/N was my apprentice. She also, coincidentally, happened to be the woman I was totally, hopelessly and obsessively in love with. "Y/N, if you're done, maybe you can come here and help me!" I yelled as cold-heartedly as possible, finally having enough. "Sorry, sir," she whispered.

Oh, the things she did to me when she called me 'sir'. Of course, Y/N was the best apprentice ever. She was the student every teacher dreamed of. Wait, that came out a bit creepy— She got up and quickly walked to me. Levi settled herself back on my shoulders. Y/N took a book in her hand and started reading.

I silently watched her as she focused on the book. Since I was so in love with her, my mind believed that maybe being cold to her would help me. I needed to get rid of distractions and Y/N... she was my biggest distraction. "Sir, I found it!" Y/N squealed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Give that to me," I huffed, grabbing the book from her hand. "You may leave." Y/N nodded and got up, walking out of the library. I watched. The way her hips swayed when she walked, the way she only liked to wear skirts and sweaters all the time drove me crazy.

It was hard not to be in love with such a beautiful person.

Y/N POV:

"What's his problem," I grumbled as I picked my book off the stairs. I sat down on the fourth step and opened the book again. I was an apprentice to the one and only, Doctor Stephen Strange. I liked it at the New York Sanctum, that's where the both of us lived. I liked being an apprentice to the Sorcerer Supreme too, that is, if he treated me like a person.

He never talked politely to me. I was very damn sure that whatever it was, was my fault. I did something. So I started taking care more. I never messed up. It had been months since my last mistake. All of Strange's friends commented well about me. Wong and Mordo said I was the best apprentice there was. Even the Ancient One said I was good.

So what was Strange's problem? At least Levi liked me. She was the only one I could talk to freely, even though the cloak itself couldn't talk. As I quietly sat and read on the stairs, I heard a loud knocking on the door to the sanctum. Startled, I stood up. Before I could move, Strange was running down the stairs. "Don't move," he growled, stopping me as I followed him.

His hand collided hard with my chest and I was thrown back. I landed on the stairs on my butt. I groaned and scrambled back to my feet as Strange opened the door. Outside stood the two Norse Gods, Thor and Loki. My eyes widened.

I stood silently as the three of them chatted. A blush crept up my cheeks as I noticed that instead of focusing on what Strange was saying, Loki was eyeing me up.

I honestly didn't think I looked that great. Sure, I had a maintained figure and a thankfully unblemished face but no one would be into this. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and looked away, Loki's stare still burning holes through my body. I heard Strange sighing.

"Alright, follow me. Y/N, keep an eye on Loki. Make sure he doesn't touch anything," Stephen glared at me and went upstairs with Thor. I looked down. Why did Dr Strange hate me so much? As far as I remember, I had done nothing to him. "It's sad, how he treats you."

"What do you mean?" I looked up at Loki, confused. I grew extremely self conscious as Loki took a few steps towards me, smirking. "Judging by his tone and glare, he clearly despises you. Why do you still continue to be with him, dearest?" he crooned and I took a step back.

"It's— it's not what you think... I'm his apprentice, not his girlfriend," I whispered, uncomfortable. "An apprentice? How nice."

"Wh-What?"

I got incredibly scared when Loki smirked more and stepped closer to me. "That means you're available, aren't you? Unless..." I shook my head furiously. "I'm not dating," I said in a rush. Wait, why was I acting like that? I wasn't interested in him, not at all!

There was no denying he was handsome and intelligent, but I just didn't like him that way. "Good. I've always wanted a pretty princess like you." I audibly gulped as Loki stood an inch away from me. I was standing on the sixth step on the stairs while Loki stood on the fifth. Even still, he was taller than I was. He leaned down and breathed out.

My heart rate skyrocketed, what was he doing? Whatever it was, I didn't like it. I loved someone else. I was in love with my teacher, Stephen Strange. It hurt me everyday how much he hated me but I liked him a lot. As soon as Loki's lips were about to be placed on mine... "Loki, I told you not to touch anything!" Loki quickly pulled back and stepped down.

I continued standing where I was, my eyes closed as I breathed heavily. When I opened my eyes, I saw Strange glaring daggers at Loki. It looked as if he was about to kill Loki then and there. "Sir—" I started but he cut me off. "Ah-ah! Shut up, I'll deal with you later!" he growled.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, looking down. My eyes filled with tears, what was happening? When no one was looking, I wiped my tears.

Alas, I was wrong. Strange saw me wiping my tears and his heart finally shattered.

Stephen POV:

I could not believe the audacity of that terrible excuse for a demigod. How dare he try to kiss the love of my life right under my roof?! I was incredibly upset when I saw that Y/N wasn't pushing him away. I knew she had always been a shy person, but...

"Thor, take your brother and leave," I grunted, opening a portal. Thor was just looking around awkwardly as Loki smirked at me and I glared at him. "I'll not be forgetting about you, Y/N!" Loki purposely yelled as he stepped through the portal. I looked at Y/N as he said it and saw her flinching.

So she really didn't care about that man. My heart broke. Why was I treating her like this? Like a caged animal? Like a disappointing kid? Y/N was far from disappointing, she was excellent. When the portal closed, I looked at Y/N. "Care to explain?" I snapped, crossing my arms.

"It wasn't me, it was all him," she whispered, her voice breaking. She was trying not to break down. "What did he do?" I questioned. "He... he tried to kiss me. I didn't want to do it. I don't like him that way." Y/N was still looking at the ground, her book long forgotten on the stairs.

I picked it up. "I want you to look up when we talk!" Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. I was holding her book out to her. She extended a shaking hand and accepted the book. "Th-Thank you," she stuttered. I realised that her whole body was shaking. That's when it hit me, how difficult it was for her.

I treated her like scum, blinded by my own mind. She was doing her best to impress me yet I continued ignoring her. Today's incident must have been worse for her. I mean, being taken without consent... my mind cleared up.

I had to make it up to her.

"Come on, Y/N, let's continue with our research, shall we?" I asked her softly and she nodded, still avoiding my eyes. We walked to the library. After that, I treated her like the princess, the angel she was. I complimented her all the time, became friendlier with her.

She worked as diligently as ever. But now, there was happiness around her when she worked. And I, as always, loved watching her. I wanted to confess my feelings. By now, I didn't care about rejection. I just wanted to get the feelings out. "Sir?" Yet again, I snapped out of my thoughts.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I asked, smiling at her. "Have I got something on my face or are you lost in thoughts?" she chuckled, eyes shining with teasing affection. I admit, after seeing her break down and finally treating her nicely, Y/N and I grew closer. We talked outside work now and she had a lot of interesting things to tell me.

"You've got something on your face," I smiled, getting up. I sat in front of her on the floor; she loved sitting on floors for some reason. She said it was cold and she liked it. "What?" she frowned, touching her face. "Beauty," I whispered and she froze. She looked at me.

"Sir, I—"

"I'm just gonna say it, Y/N, I'm in love with you."

"Then why did you treat me like I was nothing?"

"Because I didn't want any distraction from my work. You were the biggest distraction ever, with a beauty like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought that maybe by treating you coldly the feelings would go away. But they grew. And now I realize, my work is actually the biggest distraction from you." She chuckled at my joke. I took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Please tell me you like me back, I won't be able to sleep at night," I whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She grinned and tittered.

"Of course I do, I love you so much, sir," she whispered and I finally, after months of pining, pressed my lips to hers. She kissed back. My hands moved to her waist and I brought her on my lap, leaning against the wall behind me as we kissed passionately.

"Tell me you're mine, no one else's."

"Of course I'm yours, sir."

"Gah, you have no idea what that word does to me."

She found out that night.

---

A/N: Oop. Leave a like if you liked it lol

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x female reader #stephen vincent strange #stephen strange fluff #doctor strange #benedict cumberbatch characters #disney #marvel #mcu #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

231 notes · View notes

stainandscribble · 4 years ago

Text

Flower, Falling In Love

Pairing: Wonwoo (Seventeen) x Reader

Genre: Wonwoo Cupid AU (sort of); Soulmate AU; Coffee Shop AU (brief); fluff; fantasy

Summary: Wonwoo is a love messenger, he answers to the god of love and he is destined, like all messengers, to never fall in love: or so it would seem. The god of love is unpredictable and does as he pleases. After centuries of helping people fall in love; Wonwoo is the one that needs assistance.

A/N: loosely inspired by Angel’s last mission: Love, based on the world in HONEY (EXO Lay fic) you don’t have to read it though, it is unrelated to this.

Word Count: 5390

Wonwoo was born the same way as all his brothers were, forged into existence the moment the sun painted the clouds various shades of pink and purple. As the dawn broke across the horizon, he had taken his first look at the sky across from Olympus. He was a messenger to the God of Love, Baekhyun.

The God of Love was cheerful, that was what Wonwoo noticed when he was born. The God of Love was smiling down at the newly awake messengers, his eyes shining. They were still pure and innocent then, still impressionable. He remembered that Baekhyun had told him he will live as his helping hand, aiding mortals down below them find love, helping him bestow this precious gift onto humanity.

And then he bestowed upon Wonwoo the greatest act of love a love messenger would ever receive: The God of Love gave him a name.

A name, Wonwoo had learnt was important. His brother recognised him by his name. Strangers would learn his name and cease to be strangers henceforth. A name made him who he was; Wonwoo who was Baekhyun’s love messenger, Wonwoo who was a brother.

He liked it when his brothers called his name. it made him feel important, useful. It made him warm. Wonwoo felt happy when they called his name cheerfully, the same way Baekhyun had the time he gave him his name, with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. Wonwoo thought that was love or at least the closest he was to ever feel it.

Love messengers had no knots in their white threads for lovers. Although they bestowed the gift of love onto humanity, they were fated to never experience it. Love was for the Gods and mortals. It was something unattainable to them, just beyond their fingertips. Humans and Gods fell in love so that their races could continue to exist. Human lives were short, and so for them to continue they had to love and have children. Despite their short lifespans, Wonwoo had always heard his elder brothers Jeonghan and Seungcheol talk with the Gods of Love and Lightening, about how humans took time to love.

One day, as he rested on Olympus as a young messenger, Wonwoo had been so bold as to ask the God of Lightening how he knew, and he had simply smiled at him, as if Wonwoo was a child, and lay a heavy warm hand over his shoulder, looking up at the tall messenger.

“Humans have short lives, and so they pick their time well and love only those they deem deserving of love.”

“They try anyway.” Jeonghan had supplied, his bright mischievous smile making the God of Thunder shake his head.

“Gods’ love easily because they don’t have to think too much about the passing of time and growing old. That is why they take long to learn. They will fall in love quickly because the mistake is only a short moment on an infinite number of moments. They make the same mistakes and the same bad decisions over and over because their time is limitless, and they can afford to waste it.” Seungcheol had explained to the younger messengers, all staring intently between the God of Lightning, and their older brother.

“Gods are born like humans are. They need love to pass on life too. They are not born in the clouds the same we are. Dawn does not kiss life into them like it does to us.” Joshua said. His voice was soft and light, matching his expression as he gazed over at his younger brothers. His brown eyes held a tenderness that had far surpassed love. Sometimes Wonwoo thought that if Philia, the affectionate love, could choose a shape it would look like Joshua.

“Humans have a good saying; the higher you are the lonelier you are. With power comes sacrifice and loneliness. Gods’ realms are often separated, the way this mountain is far from Junmyeon’s sea.” The God of Lightening Jongdae gestured over to the peak of Mount Olympus, to below, were behind the white tuft of clouds, the azure sea beat against the rocks. “For sacrifice and for balance, we are given love.”

That was the conversation that shaped Wonwoo’s idea of love. It was that lecture, given by the God who loved and married a mortal, that turned into one of the most important conversations of his existence. He was less impressionable afterwards.

-----------

That was over four thousand years ago, and still, despite never feeling Eros, he felt lucky. He was not lonely the way the Gods were, and he did not have a short life the way mortal humans did. For four thousand years, Wonwoo had worked and been content, diligently fulfilling his duties and watching as couples fell in love. Sometimes he had the displeasure, but an honour nonetheless, to watch as the same people he helped fate bring together had said their goodbyes. Millenia ago it had been death that forced them apart. More recently it had been finances and not enough time.

That was why he was on earth today, sitting in an auspicious café, sipping on an iced caramel macchiato. He had taken the last empty table, spread his things out to make sure no one else could sit with him, and watched as his charges smiled at each other in greeting as one offered an empty chair at their table to the other.

Wonwoo smiled to himself, his pink lips spreading into a joyful smile that showed all his teeth and turned his eyes into crescents. He had the satisfaction of watching as they met, his personal coffee show au unfolding in real life.

The coffee shop was packed, the air was warm and stuffy, and undoubtedly a welcome relief from the chill of winter lingering just outside the brick walls. Most of the tables were round, made of brown wood standing on black metal legs, the buzz of chatter and the mechanical humming of the coffee machines completed the ambience, and Wonwoo thought it would be a rather romantic place to meet the person destined for you.

The two humans were both college students, both tired and trying their best to keep up with assignments. They were studying the same subject, so it wasn’t their first meeting, but it was the push in the right direction. Wonwoo had been that push. That was his job, and he had sipped on his coffee and grinned down on his chocolate brownie in satisfaction at completing his last assignment this round. When he was done, he could return home to mythical Cyprus, plating beside Olympus suspended in the clouds. His brothers had already decided to drink nectar when they all came back for a well-deserved break.

That was too easy though. Too simple. A plan too well formulated and too close to execution, and fate had other ideas. Rather, the God of Love had other ideas, and he had made sure Wonwoo would not leave the coffee shop satisfied and in high spirits.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” A melodic voice broke through Wonwoo’s daydreams, bringing him back to the mortal realm. In front of him, a young woman looked down at him, and at the spare chair right she was now resting her hands against. At first glance, Wonwoo wondered if you were a muse to the God of the Sun, but you weren’t. Wonwoo studied your features, and he found none of the essences of immortal beings in them; and he finally heard your heart, previously drowned out by the sounds around him. Your heart was beating, a steady relaxed rhythm proving your mortality. He wondered if you had already found Your soulmate, and if not, who would be the one to help you find them. Would it be one of his brothers, or would it be a messenger he didn’t know? Could it be him?

“No.” Wonwoo told you, gesturing for You to leave your things in the space right in front of him before you went to order your drink.

“Thanks.” You muttered once you came back, sending him a smile in gratitude. Your drink was steaming, the mug holding the hot chocolate was warm against your fingers.

Wonwoo watched you over his cup, glancing at you from time to time to see what you were doing. He watched you warm yourself up, undoubtedly cold from the weather outside. Whilst you had gone to get your drink, snow started falling from the sky, white flakes blew in the wind, settling against the chilled earth like a blanket. Wonwoo thought you were pretty. Your eyes were twinkling, and you liked your lips after a sip of the heavenly hot liquid. You were driving the love messenger insane, his heart began to beat irregularly, startling him when he could hear the blood rush in his ears when you caught him looking. Wonwoo’s cheeks turned rosy, and the room began to feel far too hot for December. Even when you were both inside.

Worried about his rising temperature, and his mind replaying the small smile you sent his way, he decided he needed to make a break for it. There was no need to remain on Earth any longer, and he should be getting back home, in the realm of the God of Love floating beside Olympus.

“I have to go. Bye!” Wonwoo excused himself, walking out as fast as he could, completely forgetting his scarf, still hanging on the back of his chair.

You picked it up, hoping to find him outside the coffee shop, but when the cold air hit your skin, and the snowflakes began to fall against your cheeks, you noticed the tall man was gone.

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

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo stood in the back alley behind the packed coffee shop, hiding from mortal eyes as his heart beat against the rungs of his ribs, trying to break free of the pericardium and the bones keeping it away from you.

He had never felt like this before. His heart fluttered watching the happiness he brought mortals, and his feelings soared when he watched his brothers mess around. He had never felt like this towards a human. His hands were sweating, and he thought that even the falling snow could not cool down his scorching skin.

“Why is my heart beating so fast?” He muttered to himself, threading his fingers through his hair, frantically trying to gather his thoughts.

“And my hands are sweating.” Wonwoo spoke, looking around and wiping his hands on his dark jeans. Thankfully, there was no one around to witness his mental breakdown in the alley. Under all the confusion, and a strange excitement that was now filling Wonwoo’s body, there was an important question that needed answering. It was that very question that made his hands tremble, and his heart pick up pace.

“She is human. Why do I react like this because of a human?”

---------

Up above the coffee shop, beyond the vastness of the sky, The God of Water, Junmyeon, and The God of Love, Baekhyun, watched the messenger freak out. They observed the first instance of Eros ever felt by one of Baekhyun’s messengers, watching through the looking glass placed on the marble table in the pavilion. Their imposing silhouettes were still as Junmyeon awaited Baekhyun’s explanation.

The other Gods sat around the table, their dark eyes staring intently at Wonwoo’s image, the messenger was dressed in warm clothes, snow falling around him and cold wind nipping at his cheeks, a stark contrast to the warm breeze and the sun shining down on Olympus.

“What have you done to that poor love messenger?” Junmyeon asked, his deep voice rolled over them like waves, but there was a playful lilt in it, and his eyes were laughing as they watched the poor love messenger fall in love for the first time.

“I have given him the greatest gift, if only he would stop being so frightened.” Baekhyun muttered, tapping his fingernails on the marble table, watching as Wonwoo ran his hands through his hair and muttered to himself like a crazy person.

“How could he not be, his kind had never experienced something like that before.” Jongin reasoned, his tender heart soared at the innocent fear in Wonwoo’s eyes as his feelings wreaked havoc on his mind.

“Can love messengers die of a heart attack?” Kyungsoo laughed, his dark, earth-coloured eyes watched as Wonwoo grabbed his chest theatrically, feeling his irregular heartbeat.

“The fates have agreed?” Junmyeon looked over from the looking glass to his brother, the one he thought must be responsible for this.

“Of course. I chose him myself.” Baekhyun spoke, full of pride as he puffed his chest out and looked over to his elder with a mixture of mischief and hope.

The God of Love had chosen him himself. The moment Baekhyun looked down at the pink clouds, waiting for a new cohort of love messengers to be born in the light of dawn, he knew that it would be one of them. He was getting ready to pick out a messenger, whose lifeline he would eventually mess up, tying lover knots into their fate. No one of these beings, ones he affectionately called his children, had ever felt Eros. No one them in the centuries that they have been around, had ever fallen in love, despite bestowing this gift onto humans. They lived for love, and because of it, and yet they didn’t even know what they were living for. Baekhyun was determined to change that. Starting with Wonwoo, his children would learn what love is.

When the pink hue of dawn passed, and he had called out their names, he had realised he had almost forgotten about one messenger. Wonwoo, still nameless then, watched the God of Love with innocent fascination, eyes filled with Storge, affectionate love, as he watched the God of love smile down at him, oblivious to his intentions, and that was when Baekhyun had decided; it had to be him, who he had almost forgotten.

“Wonwoo.” Baekhyun had called him, and his fate was set.

---------

Wonwoo sat with his brothers around a wooden table, the warm Cyprus winds kissing their cheeks, a pleasant contrast to the harsh winter on Earth. Here, the sun shone down on them, and Wonwoo had swapped out the warm coat for summer clothes and a loose-fitting shirt. From crystal cups his brother sipped on golden nectar, but Wonwoo could not stomach his drink. His cup sat full on the table as he felt his stomach churn and flip. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Love messengers never got sick. The more people they helped find their soulmates, the better they felt, and their work was never-ending. Mortals and Gods kept them busy and kept them in high spirits.

“Jeonghan, I think I’m sick.” Wonwoo muttered when his heart began beating a little faster and he could feel his cheeks heating up a little more when his mind made him see the girl from the café again. He put his head in his hands.

“We don’t get sick.” Jeonghan laughed as he sipped on cool nectar. Beside him, Seungcheol looked over at the younger messenger and furrowed his brows.

“Something is wrong with me.” Wonwoo pressed, trying to avoid the curious gazes of his brothers.

“I saw this girl at the café whilst on duty, and she was mortal, but she was pretty.” He admitted, thinking about how you were definitely the prettiest mortal he ever laid eyes on, and about how he absolutely shouldn’t under any circumstances consider you attractive. Heck, he shouldn’t even know what attraction feels like. There were no lover knots in his thread of life, and there should be no feelings associated with Eros bouncing about his heart.

“When I saw her, my heart started beating in my chest as if it was skipping a beat, and my hands grew sweaty when she accidentally brushed her hand against mine.” He explained, his hands miming the way his heart was beating before he dramatically rubbed his hands together.

“Impossible.” Jeonghan whispered, his goblet abandoned on the table.

“What is impossible?” Mingyu asked, his eyes widened when he saw the shock on the faces of everyone else. He looked expectantly over to Wonwoo, who looked like he was about to faint.

“It can’t be real, can it?” Joshua asked, and before Mingyu could ask again about what was happening Seungkwan beat him to it, answering Joshua’s question instead.

“We don’t do that.” He shook his head, a broken chuckle escaped him as he sipped on his drink, trying to avoid Mingyu’s wondering stare.

“I have never in my six thousand years heard about this happening.” Seungcheol announced, looking over at the younger love messenger as he looked absolutely miserable, his face flushed and his eyes glassy as if he had a mortal fever. When they stopped to listen, they could hear his heart, fast and irregular. The same as a mortal heart in the throes of infatuation.

“Wonwoo, how are you feeling right now?” Seungkwan stood up from his chair to press a hand against Wonwoo’s forehead, checking if his brother was really burning up. To his surprise, he was, and the warmth that emanated from him was a pleasant feeling. Wonwoo was projecting, and for a moment Seungkwan thought his heart might also skip a beat. He retracted his hand and looked down onto his brother.

“Fine.” Wonwoo answered, although his cheeks were still pink, but the thought of you was now gone from his mind, and instead, fear had taken its place.

“Can he be infatuated with a mortal?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Seungcheol for answers. The older ran a hand through his black hair and sighed.

“It’s fate. You can’t fight fate.” His words had a finality to them that made them all sit back into their seats. It was the kind of finality that took over all of them, not just Wonwoo, who watched on with wide eyes, and despite the warmth of Cyprus’ air, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“You met her again, didn’t you?” Joshua asked, his voice soft as he watched his brother struggle with the new information.

“After I ran out, I came back the next day, just to make sure.” Wonwoo nodded.

“We bumped hands accidentally.” He added afterwards, but didn’t know if it was important, or rather why it was relevant,

“She invited me out for ice cream.” Wonwoo told them, putting his hands on the table and playing with his cup as a distraction.

“You said no, right.” Joshua prodded, his eyes soft but unsure, and when Wonwoo stayed silent, he turned to Seungcheol, who watched everything helplessly.

“You said yes?” Jeonghan cackled, laughing hysterically at how hopeful and happy his brother seemed at the prospect of meeting the mortal again.

“We are meeting on Monday.”

“Good luck.” Mingyu told him, and the sincerity in his voice gave Wonwoo the courage to smile at him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It was fate after all, and you can’t fight fate. They all knew that.

-------

The ice cream shop was surprisingly full for the middle of winter. The walls were lined with wood painted a cream colour and the tables were also cream with pastel-coloured chairs. It was a fun little shop, and Wonwoo waited outside excitedly for your arrival. He had come earlier, just to make sure he was at the right place, and because he had a bad habit of being late, and he figured being late on the very first date of your immortal existence would not bode well. The snow had stopped falling, but the world remained covered under a soft pillow of pearly whiteness. Everything looked softer in the snow, and Wonwoo didn’t mind the cold.

“Hi Wonwoo.” He turned around when he heard you call his name, watching as you waved at him from the edge of the sidewalk.

“Hello Y/N.” He answered, smiling at you, his dark eyes carefully trailing over your face, wondering if you were as cold as he was.

“Let’s go?” You asked, gesturing towards the entrance to the gelateria.

“Sure.” He nodded and followed behind you into the warm ice cream shop. You sat down at a table near the window, your eyes scanning the tall man as he sat down and took off his black jacket and scarf. His cheeks and nose had turned red in the cold, and you wondered if he waited outside for long. He was already waiting when you spotted him as you were crossing the street. Once you were seated, you looked through the menu, deciding to share a sundae between you.

“How about this one?” Wonwoo asked, pointing to a sundae slathered in toffee sauce.

“Sweet nectar?” You asked, and he nodded, a smile appearing on his lips as you watched his eyes light up. You could feel your heart skip a beat when he caught your eyes with his dark coffee ones.

If only you knew the irony of his choice, you would have undoubtedly laughed, a messenger from Olympus who wanted nectar. Wonwoo had found that almost ridiculous.

For the remainder of your date, you sat at your table, walking about your favourite films and books. Turned out Wonwoo was a big fan of romance films, and he had mentioned that he liked Casablanca.

“So you like black and white cinema?” You asked, smiling as you leaned your hand against your open palm.

“You could say that.” He chuckled, eyes drifting from you onto the empty ice cream cup.

“What’s your favourite?” Wonwoo asked in return, feeling his breath hitch in his throat when you caught his eyes. Their colour mesmerized him, and for a moment he thought he was looking into a mirror, seeing the white thread of his life tie in a knot as he watched. The depth of your gaze was immeasurable, and he found himself drowning in the vastness.

“Cinema Paradiso.” You replied without breaking his gaze.

“So you like foreign cinema?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. The smile that broke through sent your own heart into a frenzy, and you felt yourself being pulled closer like a puppet on a string. Closer to him.

“You could say that.” You spoke, and the softness of your voice felt pleasant against Wonwoo’s ears. It was a sweet sound. Sweeter than the melodies played on any harp or lyre by the muses of the God of the Sun.

For the remainder of the evening, you sat in the gelateria, talking about your passions and your hopes.

“Tonight was nice.” You told Wonwoo once you left the building. The white snow had resumed its descent onto the frozen earth and had added layers onto the white blanket covering the world. It acted as a means to silence all sound but the sound of your beating heart and the rich resonance of Wonwoo’s voice.

“It was.”

“Would you like to go out again sometime?” He asked, turning to look you in the eyes when he offered.

“Let’s watch a film.” You agreed, happy when he took a small step towards you. In the crisp winter air, his warmth radiated like a heater, protecting you from the nipping wind.

“They are screening Notting Hill at the Contemporary Arts theatre.” Wonwoo told you his cheeks dusting a deeper shade of red.

“I’ll text you the time. Is that okay?” He asked, looking over unsure if he was being too forward. He had never spent this long with a mortal, much less with a mortal he knew he would inevitably fall in love with. He wondered if this was what all his charges felt when he helped them bump into each other or helped them make the first move. Were they also this warm? Did their hearts beat a new life and their breaths hitched in their throats with the feelings coursing through their veins? If that was the case, Wonwoo thought that infatuation was a very pleasant stage of mortal relationships.

“Of Course.” You told him, and just as you were about to bid your farewells he stopped you. His hand landed in your arm, and before you could react he had pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

His lips were warm against your cold skin, and the tingling sensation they left behind was enough to make our heart skip a beat.

“Goodnight.” He murmured, letting go of your arm, allowing you to walk home.

----

The messengers had picked a small coffee shop as their hangout in the mortal world. It was warm and served the best hot chocolate they had ever tasted, whipped cream and all. It was also frequented by tender writers and happy couples. Currently, in the throes of winter, it had been decorated with white lights and smelled like cinnamon, most likely because of all the gingerbread and spiced cakes they baked. Jeonghan made Wonwoo and a few other’s meet here before he left for Olympus later in the evening. They sat at a round wooden table sipping on hot coffee and trying to keep themselves awake.

“You are meeting her again?” Jeonghan asked, poking Wonwoo on the side. The elder had recently dyed his hair platinum blonde, and Wonwoo was truly considering also changing something. He just wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to change. He felt like he was a different being to the one he was just a few weeks ago. He knew what the blossoming of love felt like now, and despite all worried of what his brothers might think of his predicament, they had been supportive.

“I have a date in half an hour.” Wonwoo answered, sipping on his hot americano.

“I can’t believe it.” Mingyu muttered under his breath. He still found the idea that the God of Love allowed one of his messengers, the ones doing his dirty work, to experience the very same love they brought to the world. The possibility that Wonwoo could love a mortal and be happy meant that the rest of them wondered whether they would also get to experience Eros within their lifetimes. It was not new knowledge that the God of Love Baekhyun had wanted his footmen to have love, it was just new that the fates let him meddle with their life lines.

“It takes almost half an hour to get to the Contemporary Arts Theatre, you better get on the bus now.” Seungcheol told him, poking the watch in his wrist to remind Wonwoo of the time. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“See you at home!” He waved at them half-heartedly before running out to catch the next bus.

-------

True to Seungcheol’s words he had barely made it on time. The building of the Contemporary Arts Theatre was low, with only two screen rooms and a small gallery for student pieces. There had been only four other people at the screening of Notting Hill, and Wonwoo was thankful. He felt much more at ease with less prying eyes.

In the dark room, with the only light coming from the projector behind you, it felt right. Wonwoo had been timid at first, making sure you were comfortable, being careful not to be too forward. You could never have imagined his relief when he felt your head press against his shoulder halfway through the film. The rest of the film you had stayed like that, with your head on his shoulder, and with his fingers threading through yours on the armrest, and Wonwoo swore he had never been more comfortable, not even in the push beds on Mount Olympus.

-------

“Tonight was lovely.”You told Wonwoo as you were leavening. Your hands were still intertwined, and it didn’t look like Wonwoo had any intention of letting go anytime soon. Not that you were complaining. It was a nice feeling, being held, and you enjoyed the way your relationship was progressing. Nothing seemed rushed, and you were happy with that.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Wonwoo answered, beaming as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes as you walked through the streets.

“I was just wondering,” You thought out loud, and Wonwoo halted in his tracks, turning to face you with serious eyes. The hints of playfulness now gone from the deep brown orbs.

“Wonwoo, what is that white string?” You asked, not sure if you were going crazy or not, but you had been seeing the white thread follow you since you met him, and whenever you asked your friends, they had thought you were either pulling their leg or going insane.

“What white string?” He asked, panic taking over. He had never thought you would ask him that. White string was the fibre of his life line, the fibre that held his fate in chronological order. Mortals couldn’t see immortal strings.

“This one.” You unlaced your fingers, pointing to the pearly white thread that wrapped around your ring finger like a wedding band.

“You can see it?” He asked in disbelief, and although he was panicking inside, you had let out a relieved breath. You nodded wiggling your fingers and watching the pearly sheen of the thread glisten in the streetlight.

“It’s been following me around since I met you.”

“That’s,” Wonwoo coughed, his voice cracking with the shock of your revelation.

“That is fate. My fate, that I share with you.” He answered when he regained the ability to breathe and think coherently.

“What?” You asked, not quite understanding what he was saying.

“We are soulmates.” He explained, watching as your eyes filled with shock. It wasn’t every day that someone told you you were soulmates, much less the man who could also see the crazy invisible threads wrap around your finger.

“How could you possibly know that?” You pressed for answers.

“I know because I’ve been watching those strings for a very long time. I’m the one who helps tie them together.” He explained, holding your hand to pull at the life line that wrapped around your finger. His life line, his fate. His love.

“What?”

“I’m a love messenger. I help people fall in love.” He answered, looking into your eyes, and the weight of his confession settled over you, wrapping around your heart. To prove his point, he held out his hand, and sure enough, you saw a scarlet string wrap around his finger and shoot straight to your heart.

“Like cupid?” You pondered, and he laughed. He laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and at the fact that you had taken all his confessions in stride rather than running away. Maybe you were both mad.

“You could say that.” Wonwoo nodded, and the wind picked up speed, sending snowflakes spinning all around the two of you, shielding you from the prying eyes of the world outside.

“I’m your soulmate?” You asked again, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his warm frame.

“Scared?” He whispered, his warm breath fanning the shell of your ear.

“No.” You answered, smiling when neither of you pulled away. Slowly, as if to not frighten you, he lowered his head, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours, moving gently against your own. His lips felt hot and searing against the cold winter, and he tasted like cotton candy. When you had finally broken away from the kiss to catch your breath your eyes strayed to the ground, and you saw Wonwoo’s shadow, his tall frame elongated on the pavement, but that was not what drew your attention. Sprouting from the back of his shadow, a pair of wings, like those of an angel, sprouted and fluttered against the wind.

“I’m terrified.” You whispered, and Wonwoo couldn’t help the laugh that broke from his throat, cacophonous and filled with joy as you teased him.

In the night, under the orange glow of streetlamps, he kissed you until you were breathless, and you decided you would love him, not yet, but in the future. Love was a flower, and it had sprouted from amongst the snow, the first signs of green peeking through the crisp whiteness.

192 notes · View notes

chaoticminhos · 4 years ago

Text

mistakes were made

pairing: changbin x reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: mentions of cheating, degradation, slight biting kink??

word count: 4k

a/n: thank you guys so much for being patient with me!! i hope you enjoy it :) both an ex with benefits with changbin and jealous changbin smut were requested.

pulling your clothes back into your sweaty body, you collected your things and headed for the door.

“woah,” changbin’s voice stopped you, “leaving already?”

“i have to go to my dorm and shower before my 4 pm class.”

“you can shower here.”

you gave him a painfully obvious fake smile, “nice try.”

that boy would do anything to get your clothes off, and despite having been broken up for two months now, you near always let him.

you quickly cleaned yourself up and dried your hair as much as you could with a towel before making your way to class. right as you walked through the door, jisung was waving you over to sit beside him.

he reached out and grabbed a chunk of your damp hair, “needed to shower the changbin off?”

you swatted his hand away, not bothering to nod. he knew the answer.

“jesus, you two are like rabbits. who the hell calls their ex at 3:30 in the afternoon for a quick fuck?”

“a stressed out collage student who has three tests to worry about.”

“he should spend his time studying something other than your naked body then.”

you let out a puff of air that you hoped jisung would accept as a laugh- you knew what he thought of changbin. he had been elated when you told him the news of the breakup, letting out a sigh of relief and saying he was proud of you for letting him go. he was so ready to help you find someone who actually deserved you. so when you showed up to your usual saturday movie night with hickeys littering across your neck— new, fresh hickeys— and after much pushing finally admitted that they were changbin’s work, jisung wasn’t all too happy.

changbin wasn’t a bad boyfriend. he wasn’t the perfect one, but he wasn’t as bad as jisung seemed to think. the breakup couldn’t be attributed to any problem that jisung saw with your and changbin’s relationship, it was all because of one stupid, asshole move. even you wouldn’t defend changbin on the reason you broke up with him.

but again, just like anything he did, it wasn’t enough to keep you away from him for good.

in your defense, you had every intention of never seeing him again. after what he’d done, you didn’t ever plan to forgive him in any way, shape, or form. but alas, not even aphrodite was immune to adonis’ charm.

you’d been at a party only a couple of weeks after the breakup. you went with your friends, but in typical jisung and minho fashion, you didn’t actually spend the party with your friends. instead, you found yourself in the middle of a crowd, dancing along to the music alone or with whoever happened to be near you. it wasn’t like you to be so casual with any strangers hands on you, but most people weren’t exactly like themselves when they were 4 shots in.

feeling hands on your waist, you turned to size up whoever they belonged to. it had been a while since you’d let a random stranger at a party bed you, but you had to get back into the game somehow, right?

wrong. even through the drunken haze, your heart fell to your stomach when you turned only to find yourself once again in changbin’s arms.

he was looking at you in exactly the same way he always had, like he couldn’t see any girl but you.

you knew he could, he’d made it very clear that he could, but that’s something that didn’t pass through the wall the alcohol had built. so you let him keep his hands on your waist. you let him pull you close and dance with you, and as the night went along, you let him take you home to his apartment and into the bed that the sober you had sworn you’d never find yourself in again.

after that, sober you retracted the promise she’d told herself. agreeing to be friends with benefits with changbin meant in no way that you were forgiving him, it just meant that you were well aware of the fact that he knew your body better than even you did, and it would take forever to find someone who could make you feel the same way he could, and college was stressful, and his fingers took away that stress and therefore it was in your best interest to let him keep acting as your stress reliever, even if he was also the cause for some of that stress.

from then on, that had been the relationship you had with changbin. you two never texted unless it was to arrange a time and place. you didn’t stay afterward or talk, you didn’t spend the night at each other’s places, you did your business and parted ways.

he’d tried a few times at the start of it all to talk to you, but you refused. you didn’t want to hear his excuses. you didn’t want to hear them because you knew you’d fall for them and you couldn’t imagine the thought of being with him after what he’d done. you couldn’t get the picture out of your head unless his head was between your thighs, and a romantic relationship couldn’t be built purely on sex.

the conversation was dropped when the teacher called to get everyone’s attention and class began, but it would come up again. it always came up.

jisung elbowed you to get your attention, “chan is having a party tonight. come with me?”

you glanced at the teacher to make sure he wasn’t looking your way before responding.

“didn’t he just have one?”

jisung shrugged, “he can’t have another?”

you nodded, he had a good point. plus, chan was always a great host. you didn’t know the guy too well, but his house was perfect for throwing parties.

“sure.” you said, what could it hurt? “i’m down.”

the answer was everything. it could hurt everything.

as soon as jisung’s car stopped on the road in front of chan’s house, you were out of it. parties at chan’s were always a good time.

jisung got out of his car and made his was around to you. you could heard the music, clear as day, before you’d even stepped onto the lawn. good thing chan’s family had enough money for a yard large enough to put space between the noise and the neighbors.

jisung opened the door for you and followed you inside, there wasn’t any point in knocking, and right to the drinks table. your arm was stopped by jisung when you went to reach for whatever flavor of vodka was out.

“don’t drink too much.” he said, “i don’t want to babysit tonight.” he paused, “and if you run into changbin, for christ’s sake, please use protection. i don’t want to babysit in the near future either.”

you pulled your arm from his grip, sending a glare his way.

“i didn’t come here to fuck changbin.”

he didn’t respond, but with an accusatory raise of his eyebrows, he was lost in the crowd of people.

you huffed, looking around for someone you knew or at least a place to sit until you found someone. your eyes glanced over him at first, but you did a double take and decided that, although you didn’t really know him, the host of the party would be a fine pass time.

he noticed you headed his way and met you halfway there, right in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, which in reality was just a living room.

“y/n, right?” he spoke first.

you nodded, “and you’re bang chan, the owner of this monstrosity of a house.”

he looked around his house with a pout on his face, “what’s wrong with my house?”

you laughed, “nothing, it’s just huge.”

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. he said something, but you didn’t catch it.

“what?”

he leaned in close to you so you could hear him over the music. as he spoke into your ear, you felt his hot breath tickle your neck.

“i asked if you’d want to dance.”

he leaned back just enough to see your face, keeping the distance between you two short.

you glanced around the room quickly, changbin wasn’t anywhere to be seen. not that it mattered.

“i don’t see why not.”

it didn’t take long of being on the dance floor before you decided you knew chan well enough to let him keep a tight grip on your waist as he pressed your back to his chest, dancing with you. you spun in his grip, turning so you were pressed front to front with him. you raised your hands to rest around his neck, toying with a stray curl that fell from his head.

“you’re quite the dancer.” he smiled down at you.

you hummed, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

“i’m a dance minor, what do you mean not so bad?”

you laughed at his reaction, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest. you could feel him laugh against you. it was nice.

you felt his hand reach below your chin to tilt your head up, making you realize just how close your face was to his. you didn’t mind it.

his eyes ghosted from your eyes to your lips and back again before he closed the gap, pulling away only to check to make sure you were still okay with it. and oh boy, were you ever.

you were more than okay with the way you felt his lips turn into a smile against yours when you pulled him back down for a kiss, taking it upon yourself to heat it up. you’d told jisung that you weren’t here to fuck changbin, not that you wouldn’t fuck anyone else.

he slowly walked you backwards, careful not to bump into anyone, until your back was pressed against the wall of his living room.

normally, you’d be embarrassed to be blatantly making out with someone in the middle of a crowded room, but you knew no one there cared. and quite frankly, with the way chan’s lips tasted like watermelon, you wouldn’t have cared if they did.

you let out a noise when your back collided with the wall and chan groaned into your mouth.

“how can i hear more of that?”

you grinned as his lips connected with your neck, trying to pull together an answer. you opened your eyes momentarily and over his shoulder, your eyes connected with a figure you knew all too well dancing with his friends. you felt a rush go through you, was it guilt or fear or exhilaration at the fact that you were having a good time with someone other than him? you didn’t know. either way, changbin hadn’t noticed you, and that was fine by you.

your gaze locked on changbin was broken when chan connected his lips to yours again, tongue swiping your bottom lip to ask for entrance. you gave it to him, one hand finding purchase in his hair. you tangled your fingers through his curls, lightly tugging on them.

he let out a soft whimper and you did it again, smiling when you got the same reaction.

his grip on your hip tightened.

“you don’t want to test me, y/n.”

your fingers tightened around his hair for a third time, “what if i do, though?”

he let out a sound that you could only describe as a growl as he slid his hands down your thighs, ordering you to jump. you did, wrapping your legs around his torso and connecting your lips to his. he pressed you firm against the wall again and gave you a rough kiss before beginning to walk to what you assumed would be his bedroom. he kept his head up to navigate, but you kept yours pressed to his throat, leaving wet kisses and light bites wherever you touched. you were in the middle of sucking a new bruise onto an open spot when you felt him abruptly stop. you raised your head to ask him why only to find changbin’s arm wrapped around chan’s, which you assume is what made him stop in the first place, and their eyes locked onto each other.

“what the fuck, changbin spit, “do you think you’re doing?”

chan hurried to set you down, “i’m so sorry man, i thought you two were split up-“

“we are.” you glared at changbin, reaching for chan’s hand and moving to pull him towards whatever door he was carrying you towards earlier.

changbin hurried to get in front of you and block your way.

“y/n, cut it out. right now.”

you scoffed, “there’s nothing to cut out, changbin. now if you’ll excuse me,” you gestured to yourself and chan, “we have plans.”

you moved to step around him and he shifted to he was in your way again.

“okay, well cancel them.”

you met his eyes to spit back an argument, but you found something in them that always did have a way of making you go speechless and compliant. he saw the way you went blank and chuckled, reaching for the wrist of the hand that you were holding chan’s in and pulling it from his grip. he began leading you away and called over his shoulder to chan.

“sorry, buddy. she’s not happening.”

you couldn’t see chan’s reaction, but you heard him call something about using a room that wasn’t his, please.

you hadn’t had enough time to figure out what chan’s room looked like, but you were sure it wasn’t the one changbin drug you into. the room you were in had barely anything to distinguish it from looking like a hotel room and the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept on in months. years, even.

you didn’t have much time to look at the bed before changbin had your back pressed against the mattress and his body looming over you.

“did you think that was fun, princess?”

“i didn’t do anything wrong.”

“you call letting one of my friends put his hands all over my girl nothing wrong?” he scoffed, “you’ve always been a little slut.”

you tried to defend yourself, but he cut you off by attaching his lips to yours. you immediately melted into the kiss, forgetting completely that you were supposed to be upset with him for not only cock blocking you, but insulting you, too.

he broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to be found later.

“what would have happened if i hadn’t been there to stop you, whore?”

he connected his lips to your stomach, kissing a trail down to the waistline of your pants, which he promptly undid and slid off of you as well.

“would he be the one doing this right now?”

he placed a kiss to your clothed head and you whimpered.

“you don’t even care, do you?” he scoffed, sounding almost marveled, “as long as someone’s fucking you, you don’t care who it is, do you?”

he moved so he was face to face with you again, “answer me.”

“i do care, i’m not a slut.” you weren’t sure if you’d said it confidently enough to even convince yourself.

you felt his fingers grab your chin and tilt your head side to side, probably checking your neck for bruises. chan must not have left any, judging by the sound of approval changbin released before attaching his lips to your neck in the same spot chan’s mouth had been only minutes before.

“changbin,” you put your palms to his chest and pushed him up. reluctantly, he rose to look at you.

“we agreed on no marks.”

his eyes got impossibly darker, he didn’t like being told what to do.

“that was before i learned that you like to throw yourself at random guys.”

his mouth found your neck again, biting down lightly.

“obviously i need to do something to show you’re not available.”

it took so much out of you to continue to argue when he knew exactly which spots on your neck made you go weak.

“i- fuck, changbin- i am available. we aren’t together anymore.”

apparently you were in the mood to say the wrong things, because for the second time in just a few minutes, you’d let something slip from your mouth that really hit his nerves. you knew that immediately when you felt him bite down on the junction between your shoulder and neck.

you let out a whine that morphed into a moan as he drug his tongue over the tender skin, slightly soothing the sting.

he chuckled, “you wanted this, didn’t you? wanted to piss me off?”

“no,” you tried to form a coherent sentence, but your mind was clogged with lust, “didn’t mean to-“

he cut you off, completely ignoring your answer.

“well it worked, angel.”

with that, he pulled his shirt from over his head and undid his pants, kicking them aside. you hadn’t even realized that he had been fully clothed. he positioned himself between your legs, pushing your panties to the side.

“i don’t need to prep you, do i? you’ve already had my cock once today.”

he ran his length through your folds, collecting your wetness and coating his cock in it.

“did you really need to be stuffed full again so bad that you tried to let a random guy fuck you?”

“chan isn’t a random guy.”

you found it amazing that you still had it in you to disagree with him.

one hand still holding himself, the other moved to roughly wrap around your throat, effectively keeping you from saying anything more.

“you’re saying you came to his party tonight with the intent of letting him fuck you?”

he loosened his grip to let you respond, “no.”

he cocked his head, “then he’s a random guy.”

hand still loosely wrapped around your throat, he easily slid himself fully into you. you let out a loud moan, the stretch wasn’t that bad since it hadn’t been long at all, but his size still always managed to surprise you.

any ounce of defiance you had left was thrown out the window as he began to thrust into you roughly, shifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

he leaned down to kiss you and your legs burned with the stretch, but it only made everything so much better. he shifted his hand from your neck and slid it down your torso, stopping when he reached your clit. his other hand was tangled in your hair as you clung to his shoulders for dear life.

you clenched around him as he toyed with your clit and he let out a groan. you couldn’t help but moan in response to the heavenly sound. he delivered a particularly hard thrust directly into your soft spot and you nearly screamed, that plus the constant pressure on your clit almost felt too good.

“please, i’m so close.”

he hushed you, “i know baby, you can let go.”

a couple more hard thrusts directly to your sweet spot and you did just that, clenching helplessly around him as white clouded your vision. he followed soon after, and you were so glad that you’d came down soon enough to watch him tip over the edge. his face scrunched up in pleasure as he pulled himself out of you, taking it upon himself to stroke his length until he was spilling his seed all over your stomach.

he fell down beside you, his chest heaving up and down. after catching his breath, he rolled over, placed a kiss to your lips, and got up to go to the bathroom. he returned soon after with some toilet paper to clean you up with. he wiped himself off of you and tossed the paper in the trash bin before crawling back onto the bed beside you, pulling the covers up and shifting both of you underneath them. you gladly accepted his open arms and buried yourself into his chest.

“i’m sorry if i was too hard on you.”

you smiled at him, “it was perfect.”

a pout found its way onto his face, “next time you want my attention, just ask.”

he’d obviously been partially joking, but you didn’t find it funny. you sat up.

“what are you talking about?”

he sat up to meet your stance, “that’s why you pretended to like chan, right? to make me jealous?”

you let out a forced laugh. he really thought everything was about him.

“no,” you laughed again, “believe it or not, changbin, i didn’t do any of this to get your attention.”

you stood from the bed and searched for your clothes, beginning to pull your pants back into your legs. he frowned, confused, so you continued.

“i fully intended to sleep with chan, and honestly, now i’m wishing you’d just let me. i seriously thought you’d interfered because you genuinely didn’t want to see me with another guy, but you just can’t get it through your head and massive fucking ego that i could be interested in anyone but you!”

“you have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.”

“then please, changbin, enlighten me! tell me why you act like i’m your everything and the next you completely ditch me.”

“ditch you?” it was his turn to laugh, “you’re the one who stepped away from whatever we had going on between us.”

“yeah, because i saw you kissing another girl!”

his expression faltered, but it was back to normal before you noticed. “when?”

“jisung’s party, end of first semester?”

“that?” now he was remembering, “yeah, because i saw you let lee felix take you into a fucking room!”

“don’t you think if anything had happened we would have been in that room for longer than the five minutes it took you to find a girl to make out with?”

“i don’t know y/n, i’ve heard felix is pretty good.”

“well i wouldn’t fucking know.”

“then what? tell me why exactly you let some guy take you into an empty bedroom.”

you sighed, gritting your teeth. “he took me into a room to talk to me in private, he thought he saw someone spike my drink.”

did changbin seriously think it had been anything else?

the anger drained from his eyes and was replaced with worry, “what? why didn’t you tell me?”

“i don’t know, maybe because when i went to, i found you with your tongue down another girls throat!”

he sputtered, “well- in my defense, i-“

“in your defense nothing, changbin! you made a fucking assumption and decided i was that replaceable within five minutes.”

by now tears were falling from your eyes. he stepped towards you and you backed away from his touch. he reached out again.

“y/n, please.”

you let him guide you to sit on the bed.

“you’re not replaceable. i was just angry and stupid and i made a mistake. a huge mistake.”

he wiped a tear from your cheek, “it’s the biggest mistake i’ve ever made. i should have just talked to you. i’m so sorry.”

you stared at him through wet lashes for a while before reaching out a hand and slapping his shoulder, hard.

“you’re such an asshole, why do i like you?”

a small smile found its way onto his lips and he pulled you into his chest.

“i don’t know, baby, but i’m so glad that you do.”

there was a moment of silence for him to enjoy holding you in his arms again. it had been so long. even with the hookup situation, you never stayed after long enough to let him hold you. he missed it.

“y/n?”

“hmm?”

“can i take you on a date tomorrow?”

you thought for a moment before responding.

“what if we just skip that and you ask me to be your girlfriend now.”

a smile took over his features.

“y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

you shook your head, “nope. take me on a date first.”

he made a faux offended face and gasped, “but you-“

“somewhere expensive, please.”

he wanted to keep up his façade of being upset with you for tricking him, but he couldn’t. not when you were finally back in his arms and smiling at him again.

416 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 5 years ago

Text

Unhappily Married (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, dad!Steve, age gap (reader is a 20 something college student so that could range from undergraduate to graduate and Steve is late 30s), slight college!Peter x reader

summary: your dream job becomes a nightmare when your employers reveal their true colors.

“Oh, Y/N, you are a Godsend!”

You chuckled as you handed the stuffed dinosaur to her, Nathan’s cries immediately quieting. It was his favorite toy, and had you known she’d been looking for it for the past five minutes, you would have come downstairs sooner.

“I’m really not, Mrs. Rogers. He was playing with it earlier,” you said with a small smile.

The gorgeous blonde playfully narrowed her eyes at you as she adjusted the cherubic little boy on her hip.

“How many times have I told you to call me Sharon, Y/N?”

“Too many to count,” you admitted, grabbing your bag from the sofa as she walked you out of the house.

“One day you’ll listen, and I won’t have to remind you anymore,” she sighed.

She glanced around with a small frown.

“It looks like Peter is running a little late,” she noted.

“His psychology professor has a habit of talking past his allotted time,” you complained, rolling your eyes. “Normally he’s able to come up with some excuse to slip out, but I don’t think he got lucky today.”

“Oh, I hated that. I tell you, I do not miss college. Roommates, struggling for money, professors who took their jobs a little too seriously,” she shuddered. “How are your classes going? You’re still studying history, right?”

“Mm hmm. It’s going great, actually. I might have an opportunity to study abroad next semester,” you whispered, Mrs. Rogers being the first person you told the news too.

“Oh, how exciting! You’ll let us know if you get it, won’t you? We’ll have to throw a party. Steve,” she called, turning towards the garage.

There was a brief moment of silence before the equally beautiful blond exited the garage. The snug white tee he sported was stained with dirt and grime. He dusted his hands off before placing them on his hips, gazing at the both of you on the front porch.

“We might have to find a new sitter for Nathan next semester. Y/N might be studying abroad in a few months,” she excitedly told him.

His lips curved upwards into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes for some reason. You didn’t think anything of it. You noticed that things that often excited Mrs. Rogers rarely had the same affect on her husband. You didn’t know much about his job, but you got the impression that he was usually stressed about something or another despite how well he hid it.

“Is that so”

“She could be leaving us,” she replied with a pout. “…but it’s such a great opportunity. Everyone should get the chance to explore the world.”

“Sharon’s right,” Mr. Rogers said, approaching the both of you, blue eyes focused on you. “There’s no greater teacher than experience.”

You barked a laugh.

“You sound like Peter, Mr. Rogers.”

He heaved a sigh, throwing a playful smirk your way.

“When are you going to start calling me Steve, Y/N?”

“It’s useless, sweetheart. I’ve told her a million times to call me Sharon, and we keep having the same conversation. She’s making me feel like an old maid, and I haven’t even hit 40 yet,” she teased, sighing. “Peter’s really late it seems.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a frown.

“I could take her home, Sharon,” her husband offered.

She hesitated, and so did you. Peter was probably already on his way, and the two of you lived together anyway. It would be inconvenient for them if Mr. Rogers drove you home.

“You might have to,” she murmured. “It’s getting late, and Nathan will have to be put to bed soon. I really don’t want to leave you out here, Y/N-.”

She cut herself off as headlights could be seen turning into the long driveway.

“That’s really nice of you guys, but looks like Peter finally made it,” you said with a chuckle, waving to them as you descended the steps.

“I’m so, so sorry I’m late,” were the first words Peter rushed out when you slid into the passenger seat.

He rolled down the window as soon as you shut the door.

“You’re lucky, Peter! Steve was just about to take Y/N home,” Mrs. Rogers yelled.

Peter chuckled, but something was off about it.

“Sorry for being so late. Mr. Harrington was in a weird mood, tonight,” he yelled back.

The two of you waved them goodbye as Peter turned the car around.

“So what did he do, tonight?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“A pop quiz…after the lecture,” he said with a shake of his head.

“You’re always surprised by his antics.”

“I know, I know, and I shouldn’t be. That’s the crazy part. This was so on brand for him,” he mumbled.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. Besides, if you can’t ever get me for whatever reason, at least we know Mr. Rogers will take me home,” you replied, reaching over to play with his hair.

He snorted, but otherwise didn’t respond to that, and you frowned.

“What? What was that about?”

He chuckled, a crooked grin on his lips as he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not liking his tone. You turned in your seat to face him.

“What?”

“I bet Mr. Rogers would have no problem driving you home,” he teased, a smirk on his pink lips.

You stared at him, unamused.

“You’re so not funny, Peter-.”

“Oh, come on! He’s got a crush on you, you have to know that,” he interrupted.

“He’s married,” you cried in disbelief. “Besides, how could he ever have a crush on me? I dress like a hobo without makeup on around him. Plus, he hardly talks to me.”

“Probably to restrain himself,” he whispered.

Peter laughed when you hit his arm.

“I’m just kidding…sort of.”

“Peter!”

“I mean, who could blame him? You’re too adorable,” he said, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh. “…but you’re mine.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers together as you glared at him.

“Mr. Rogers is a happily married man-.”

“…and you’re his adorable 20 something babysitter who’s great with his son.”

You eyed him, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the way he scoffed that out.

“Peter…you are joking…right?”

He suddenly sighed, stopping at a red light.

“Yeah…sort of. I don’t know,” he groaned. “It’s silly.”

“Hey…nothing is silly if it’s bothering you…”

“It just seems like he really likes you, and I know that he’s your employer and it’s probably nothing more than an employer being pleased with his employee, but he’s good looking and older and-.”

“And happily married,” you reminded him. “…and I’m happily with you.”

You leaned closer, nose brushing his cheek.

“Peter, there’s no need to be jealous of Steve,” you whispered.

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbled.

You chuckled, kissing his cheek before leaning back.

“You are, but its okay,” you said, turning the radio up.

“You’re serious?”

Peter’s eyes were wide and searching, and you nodded with a huge grin on your face.

“I wanted to wait until it was confirmed to tell you, and now it is. I’m going to Europe next semester for 4 months,” you repeated.

Peter laughed.

“That’s…amazing!”

He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around him. The mall was loud, and hardly anyone paid any attention to your display. He pulled away from you to press a soft kiss to your lips just as his name was called.

“Oh, that’s our food,” you said, pushing him towards the counter.

He chuckled, rushing to get it just as you heard your own name being called.

“Y/N?”

You turned, eyes widening a bit as they connected with a familiar gaze.

“Mrs. Rogers, hi!”

She pulled you into a brief hug, pulling away with a small pout.

“Y/N, we’ve been through this a thousand times,” she complained.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly replied. “One day. One day, I promise.”

She waved you off, stepping back to get a good look at you.

“Wow! I almost didn’t recognize you,” she chuckled. “You look so different outside of work.”

You glanced down, brows furrowing just a bit as you took in your summer dress.

“I guess…yeah. Peter and I are just enjoying our free day,” you replied, pointing over your shoulder just as the brunette came up behind you.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers!”

“Hello, Peter. Ugh, you two are so adorable. I was just saying hi to Y/N. I know we only go two days without seeing her a week, but it feels like forever,” she said.

“She’s exaggerating,” you told him.

“No, I mean it! She’s a Godsend. The house is so different without her around. Nathan misses you like crazy,” she confessed.

Her tone threw you off, and you didn’t exactly know how to respond to that.

“He’s right over there actually. Steve too! We’re here with some friends, would you like to come say hi?”

“We…could. We just got our food…”

“Yeah, we can tell them the great news too,” Peter threw in from behind you.

Sharon’s eyes widened in wonder, and you felt your face get hot as Peter rubbed your arms.

“What news?”

“I’m going to Europe next semester,” you slowly replied.

Her mouth parted, face lighting up as she laughed.

“So its…confirmed then? The opportunity went through?”

You nodded.

“Oh, this is wonderful news! Now, you have to come over,” she pushed, grabbing your arm and dragging you across the food court.

Peter followed, and you grew nervous as you approached the table full of strangers. You caught Mr. Rogers’ eye, and noticed the way they widened slightly at you. You looked away, smiling at the unfamiliar faces.

“Guys, this is our babysitter, Y/N, and her boyfriend, Peter.”

Everyone introduced themselves, and the two of you did the same.

“They were just telling me about some wonderful news,” Mrs. Rogers said, reaching over to pluck Nathan from his stroller.

“I’m just studying abroad next semester,” you said, downplaying it as you waved at Nathan.

The table broke out in cheers and congratulations. Your smile was shy, uncomfortable with all of the attention, and sensing it, Peter wrapped an arm around your waist. You caught Mr. Rogers’ eye again, having felt his gaze on you, and you swallowed at the unreadable expression on his face. You wondered if your discomfort was visible, because he suddenly smiled at you, a familiar sight that eased you.

“So where exactly are you studying?” a dark-haired man with facial hair asked.

If you remembered correctly, he introduced himself as Tony.

“Rome,” you answered.

He straightened in his seat, pointing a finger, and everyone else at the table groaned.

“You know, I’ve been to Rome and-.”

“Oh, Tony, give it a rest. She’s going there to enjoy herself, not to hop on the next money-making scheme,” a strawberry blonde woman interrupted.

She was his wife, you remembered.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, and Mrs. Rogers rolled her eyes.

“We’ve kept the two of you long enough. I’m glad we ran into you today.”

“Me too,” you honestly replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You and Peter waved them goodbye, your gaze lingering a bit as Mr. Rogers didn’t wave back, opting instead for raising his glass at you. You turned with a small frown, wondering if something seemed off about him today, or if it was just you.

The door flew open just as you raised your hand to knock. You took a step back in surprise but smiled nonetheless as your eyes met familiar dark ones. Your smile fell a little when Mrs. Rogers didn’t return it, and you hesitantly stepped inside when she eventually moved to the side.

“Nathan has been put down for his nap. I should be gone for the next five hours at the most,” she said, shutting the door.

“Oh, okay. I can just do some schoolwork then while I wait for him to wake up.”

That was strange. Nathan was normally up and at em whenever you came over. She didn’t reply as you set your bag down beside the couch, and you turned to face her. Her gaze was sharp, and you were growing a bit uncomfortable.

“Unless…there’s something else you want me to do? I can make some meal plans for-.”

“No,” she harshly cut you off, and you flinched. “That won’t be necessary. I can make food for my son just fine.”

You frowned slightly before swallowing.

“Um okay. Is there anything else you want me to do while you’re gone?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at you.

“No. Why do you ask? Is there anything you do for Steve while I’m gone?”

You blinked, rearing back a bit.

“I… I’m sorry?”

She huffed, snatching her purse from its place on the lavish couch, eyes venomous as she gazed at you.

“Mrs. Rogers… Is something wrong?”

“Are you sleeping with Steve?” she demanded.

Your eyes widened, comically so as her words hit you like a truck. Confusion and shock filled you. Had you heard her wrong?

“What?” you gasped.

She approached you, chest heaving.

“You heard me. Are you fucking my husband?”

The question came out slow but forceful, and you frantically shook your head.

“N-no! No! Of course not,” you yelled. “Why would you ask me that?”

She reached into her purse, yanking out a small scrap of fabric before shoving them in your face.

“No? Then what the hell is this?”

She dropped it in your hand, and if possible, your eyes widened even further as you realized it was…underwear. They were black and lacey and flimsy…and they weren’t yours. You swallowed, holding them up by two fingers, touching as little fabric as possible as you slowly looked up at her. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under.

Her face lost some of its tension at the sympathetic look on yours, and you sighed as you held them out to her.

“Mrs. Rogers, these… These aren’t mine,” you whispered.

She swallowed, reaching out with a shaky hand to take them back from you. She clenched them in her fist, lips trembling as she looked away.

“Mrs. Rogers…”

She stumbled back, falling to sit on the couch as she stared at the wall in front of her. The house was quiet, and you didn’t know what to say as she just…stared. You were coming to terms with what was happening, and you didn’t know how to feel.

Mr. Rogers was…the perfect husband. He absolutely doted on Sharon…like a queen. You often found yourself wondering if you and Peter would have what they had one day. It was silly, you knew that, but Sharon and Steve were the perfect couple. They were happily married, for Christ’s sake, so you were having the most difficult time coming to grips with the fact that he could do something like this.

And yet…

The evidence was right there for the both of you to see. After all, there were only so many explanations that could explain that. You took a step towards her.

“Sharon.”

She slowly looked up at you, eyes glistening with tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” and you meant it.

You were sorry.

She sniffed.

“No, um… I uh…I’m sorry,” she replied. “I should have known that you would never… You’ve never once given a hint that you would…”

“Mrs. Rogers, you have nothing to apologize for. I mean, if I was in your shoes, I would go straight to the babysitter too,” you chuckled.

She joined you, slowly standing as she wiped her face.

“No. There’s no excuse for coming to you in such a manner. I let my own insecurities cloud my judgement,” she began.

She stuffed the damning evidence back in her purse before looking at you.

“I see how he looks at you, sometimes, and my mind ran wild with it.”

You frowned in confusion, and she chuckled at that.

“Of course, you have no idea what I’m talking about. How lucky you and Peter are to be so wrapped up in each other,” she mused.

You were even more confused, but you brushed it off.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She heaved a tired sigh, and she suddenly looked as if she’d aged 5 years in the span of 5 minutes.

“Just what you’ve always done; your job. You do it so well and Nathan loves you and… I have a feeling that we’re going to need you around a lot more. Nathan will need some stability,” she honestly replied with a shrug.

You looked down and nodded. You watched as she left, mind whirling with what all of this meant.

You made your way into the kitchen with a sigh, wondering how Mr. Rogers could do such a thing. You weren’t stupid. Steve Rogers was an attractive man, almost criminally so, so you knew that he must have dozens of women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. However, you saw the way he looked at his wife. You thought he was devoted to her in every way.

You looked down, playing with your fingers with a frown. As silly as it was, part of you felt…disappointed. You had thought that Mr. Rogers was better than that. This diminished him in your eyes, and you started to wonder if you ever knew him, at all.

“No, Peter. Neither one of them have come home yet. I can’t leave,” you worriedly said, peeking out of the window.

The rain was really coming down, now, and your anxiety grew.

“Y/N, a storm is coming in, tonight. If I don’t come get you, now, I don’t think I’ll be able to,” Peter said over the phone, frantic.

“I know, I know, and I wouldn’t ask you to. I’ll figure something out, but I can’t leave, and I’m not just going to take Nathan. One of them will be here soon.”

He heaved a sigh.

“Alright. I love you…”

“I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, hanging up the phone.

You had just turned away to go check on Nathan when you heard keys in the door. You sighed in relief, a greeting on your lips when you stopped short. Mr. Rogers stepped through the door, and you didn’t know what to say as he shut it behind him.

His blue eyes focused in on you, eyebrows furrowing a bit when you didn’t speak.

“What is it?” he softly asked.

He looked the same and sounded the same, but he wasn’t the same. To be perfectly honest, you were hoping that his wife would be back before him. You were…disgusted by him.

“Mrs. Rogers isn’t back yet.”

His frown deepened, reaching into his pocket to grab his cell phone.

“What do you mean she isn’t back yet?”

“When she left, she said she’d be gone for five hours at the max, but…that was eight hours ago.”

He brushed past you, pressing his phone to his ear. You went to grab Nathan just as he stirred, shushing him as you rocked him on your hip. You looked over your shoulder with wide eyes, heart skipping a beat at the harsh hushed whispers coming from the kitchen.

You wanted to get closer, but it was none of your business. You instead wondered on how you were going to get home. You heard him step back into the living room, and you looked up as he approached you. You let him take Nathan from your hands, jerking them back when his fingers lingered on yours.

“Well?”

“Sharon isn’t coming back, tonight,” he sighed.

“What? Why?”

“Who knows? She’s always loved the dramatics,” he threw out, ascending the stairs and gesturing for you to follow.

You frowned at him, not liking the way he spoke about her, but followed, nonetheless.

“There’s no way anyone can drive in that,” he said, facing you. “You’ll have to stay the night.”

You blanched on the inside, but you knew it was coming. Before, you wouldn’t have minded. However, after learning what you did about him, you didn’t like the idea of being stuck in a house with him all night. He wasn’t who you thought he was.

“Okay. I can put Nathan down before I-.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I can put him down. I haven’t done so in a while,” he said, throwing you a small smile.

You forced one in return, walking towards the linen closet.

“Um…should I get someone of Mrs. Rogers’ or-?”

“I’ll leave something in the guest room for you to sleep in,” he said.

You nodded, looking over your shoulder as he brushed past you.

You gripped your towel to you, reaching out to grab the clothes left on the guest bed when the door opened. You yelped in surprise, eyes wide as Mr. Rogers stepped into the room. You took a step back, eyeing him in confusion.

“I just wanted to thank you for tonight.”

“Oh. It was no problem,” you quietly replied.

He shook his head as he stepped closer, and you tightened the towel around you.

“No. It was a problem. Sharon was supposed to come back, tonight and she didn’t. That was irresponsible and inconsiderate of her. You have a life just like she does, and she had an obligation to be here to be with her son,” he said, voice hard as he eyed you.

He had an obligation to be faithful to his wife, you found yourself thinking.

“Mr. Rogers, really, it’s fine. She’s upset, I understand-.”

“Upset,” he wondered.

You slammed your mouth shut as he crossed his arms over his chest with a soft scoff, running his eyes over you as he studied you. He tilted his head to the side.

“How do you know she’s upset?”

“What I meant was, she seemed kind of upset before she left,” you corrected yourself.

“Did she now?”

“I don’t know what about, but she just seemed really bothered by something. She left in a hurry,” you lied.

His gaze was unreadable as he took in your words, and you found yourself feeling uncomfortable at his close proximity and your state of undress. He eventually nodded, taking a step back. He turned and made his way to the door, laying his hand on it as he turned to look at you.

“Whatever she’s upset about isn’t an excuse to leave you here to take care of our son hours after you’re supposed to,” he angrily said.

You swallowed at his tone, fighting to hold his gaze.

“Thank you for being patient and waiting. You’ve been a blessing to us this past year, and I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

You nodded, eyeing the door when he closed it before eventually walking towards it. You pressed your ear against it, noting that a few moments had passed before you eventually heard him walking away. You turned the lock, dropping your towel as you eyed the clothes on the bed.

You frowned as you realized that none of these belonged to Mrs. Rogers. The shirt was entirely too big, and you knew for a fact that she didn’t wear boxers. You didn’t feel comfortable wearing her husband’s clothes to bed, but you didn’t have a choice. It was either that or sleep naked.

You pulled them on, anyway, wondering why he didn’t just give you something of his wife’s.

As the storm raged on outside of the window, you found yourself tossing and turning. The conversation you had earlier with Sharon was plaguing your thoughts. Even worse, Mr. Rogers’ strange behavior wasn’t helping things. Sleep was eluding you, and you found yourself wanting to call Peter, but he was probably asleep.

You considered going downstairs to get something to drink, and eventually decided on doing that. You threw the covers back, preparing to get out of bed when a noise stopped you. The floor outside of the guest room creaked, and you frowned.

You slowly got up, keeping quiet as you approached the door. You stared at it in confusion before your eyes widened at the jiggling doorknob. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized someone was trying to come into the room. Although, there were only two people in the house able to open a door.

Mr. Rogers was trying to come into your room. You watched the knob twist and jiggle a couple more times before it eventually stopped. You heard him walk away, and you decided against that glass of water as you got back into bed.

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @kellyn1604 @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @villanellevi @xoxabs88xox @harringtonsblackgf @sebabestianstan101 @notyourtypicalrose @opheliadawnwalker3

#dark!steve rogers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #dark!steve x reader #Dark Fic #dad!steve rogers #dad!steve

2K notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 4 years ago

Text

Peter Parker - In your corner

Enjoy this fluffy fic I forgot I had in my drafts!

Plot: Peter is having a hard time in college, and a visit from his favourite girl is just what he needs

The sun was bright in the sky, one of those rare days in early November where you still could wear only a thin jacket. Life was buzzing around you; students that were leaving their classes, teachers that were almost running to their cars, and the occasional reunion that made you smile even wider. Because you had your own waiting for you, somewhere between the entrance and the huge building of MIT.

You tried to stretch your head as much as you could to search for the curly haired boy that you wanted to surprise. He wasn’t that hard to find; Peter had grown that summer a few inches, and his shoulders were bulkier than before. But Friday seemed to be the chosen day to create as much noise as the students could, so between shoves and uncomfortable crowds, you were finding it hard to see him.

Someone behind you whispered your name in what they thought were discreet words, but you heard the giggles and the laughs. It was hard to miss them, when it happened a few times while you skipped the students in your way to find Peter. You felt the uncomfortable itch that they always gave you, and that in the last few months had turned into the horrible grief that you were still carrying. Knowing that you wouldn’t like to find any articles about Y/N Stark lashing out on some students, you pulled the bag closer to your body and lowered your head.

You had to bear with a few more pushes until finally you collided with one that was too familiar. Looking up, you met Peter’s warm eyes and his cheeky smile.

“Hey Stark” Peter whispered, but you could hear him perfectly. “Didn’t take you for one of public places”

“I would have taken the jet, but I didn’t want to embarrass you” you rolled your eyes.

Not noticing the audience that you had besides him, you leaned forward and caught Peter’s lips with yours. It had been three weeks since you last saw him, too busy with SI and with your life back in the lake house. He seemed to leave the shyness aside and leaned further into the kiss, until someone coughed and you had to break apart. If it was possible, he looked even more handsome.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” Peter spared a glance to the group of people he was walking with, while his hand gripped your own.

“Y-yeah, I guess. Uh – have, a… good weekend” a boy you didn’t know stuttered out.

Peter nodded to him and quickly scrambled out of the big crowd. You earned yourself another bunch of shoves and almost got stepped on by a guy as tall as the Hulk. The boy dragging you seemed much more eager to leave the place than yourself, but you didn’t dare to say anything. College could be stressful, from what he had told you, and you didn’t want to pressure him anymore.

So you just stepped to his side and hung yourself from his arm, supporting the bag on your other shoulder. Peter gave you a tight, tired smile and kept walking through the people. What had seemed like a nice day was quickly turning into one too hot, and you were tempted to get rid of the jacket you had brought with you. Knowing you had the car parked a few streets down, you resigned yourself to keep walking and receiving shoves.

After a few long, silent minutes, you were out and you breathed in relief.

“Oh God, that was stressful” you sighed, not tearing away from Peter. “Those are your friends?”

“Yeah – I mean, kind of. They’re my roommate’s friends, and I got along with them although I talk more with him alone”

“That’s good” you said, not really convinced by the answer. He seemed a little dull, almost not there. “I bet they’re not as good friends as me. I bought the car, no more peasant bus or walk”

“Probably, but I don’t feel comfortable doing this with my friends”

Peter shoving you into the wall and crashing his lips to yours wasn’t really a surprise, because you loved to do that all the time, yet the strength he followed the kiss with was a bit of a surprise. One of his hand made its way to your cheek and the other rested wrapped around your waist, making you stick to his body like a magnet. Your noses touched for a second until he tilted back; and then, he just left his lips there.

There was no fire burning like when he had initiating the kiss, just the need of touching each other. It was slow, too slow, and you smiled. His thumb was drawing small circles against your skin, warm and soft.

Peter ended the kiss, but instead of tearing apart, hugged you tighter and hid his head against your shoulder. It was a little awkward, since he had his backpack on and you couldn’t fully hug him. But whatever you did was enough, because he relaxed against you.

Your father’s death had been hard for the both of you, the blip and the separation with the university too. Sometimes, you just needed the comfort of each other.

“Everything fine?” you whispered, knowing he could hear you even with all that noise. Peter nodded against your shoulder and waited a few more seconds before tearing apart for real.

“Yeah. Just needed you, a lot” he answered truthfully, but you sensed it was more. “I hope the expensive car comes with a decent lunch. I’m not eating cafeteria trash again”

“Who do you take me for?” you teased, and grabbed his arm again to keep walking. “I’m the Y/N Stark, I do not eat food for less than 50$”

Peter chuckled and kissed your forehead. Instead of letting you just hang by his arm, like you usually walked, he put his arm around your shoulder and dragged you closer, until there was, once more, no space between the two of you.

The rest of the day ran uneventful, except from the nagging thought that there was something wrong with Peter. You ate in a Burger King and he ordered two kids menu, moving the toy around while you finished your own. It was strange seeing him so quiet and withdrawn, yet so close. He had chosen to sit beside you instead of in front, and when you had gone to the bathroom he looked as if he had been kicked.

You had asked him at least ten times if there was something wrong, but he either shrugged his shoulders or shook his head. The walk around the city was short and too hot, and not wanting to tell Peter that his arm around your shoulders was going to make you melt into a puddle of sweat, you had proposed going back to his dorm, the one you still hadn’t seen.

With Peter’s computer in the wheeled chair and his roommate out of the dorm, you watched a movie and laid close. So close, that in the middle of the movie you found yourself on top of him. Peter, as he always did, took his time to start talking – and when the credits rolled down, he talked.

“I’m not fine” you frowned at his tone, trembling and not as strong as always. A soft song played on the background, and you waited for him to continue. “I feel like – like a failure”

“Why would you say that?” you lifted yourself from where you were laying, landing on his left side with your head propped up in your hand, and the other one still resting on his chest.

“It’s true” he whispered, looking to ceiling lamp to your right. “I think that I don’t… maybe this is not what I’m supposed to be”

“In MIT?” you tried to get more information out of him, using one of your hands to brush the hair out of his forehead.

“I’m falling behind in two of my classes” a lonely tear ran down his cheek. “And… I failed the first physic test”

Peter started talking about how the exam had been too difficult for him, and even if the rest of the students had gotten not so good marks, he felt like he didn’t even understand what they were asking for. One thing led to another, and then he was talking about how he felt alone there too, because his real friends and you were away, and his roommate efforts for including him into his group weren’t enough.

He avoided talking about your father, but still a last ‘and I miss him’ left his lips. By the end, silent tears of frustration were running down his cheeks. You could guess that the mess of the desk was his, not of his roommate, and that he had been having a hard three weeks.

And if there was a part that broke your heart the most, was that he kept saying that he wanted to go home. The fierce protective instinct that you carried with your last name Stark-Potts took over you for a second and you wanted to pay every single thing he could need to finish college from home – but you reminded yourself that you didn’t have a say in the matter.

“I’m sorry you’ve come to visit only to hear me crying about nothing” Peter dropped one arm across his eyes. “It’s pathetic”

“Peter” you called him out, but he didn’t move his arm. “Come on, look at me. I don’t like talking to arms”

“I’m sorry” he repeated, sniffling softly.

“For what?” you insisted. “For talking about your feelings? For being honest with me? Come one, Peter. We’ve already been over it. You know you can tell me anything”

You remembered a few months ago, after the final battle, a similar situation. You had been destroyed by your father’s death, and it had taken a huge toll on you. Not going out of your room, barely eating, nearly zero talking; just lying in bed and crying. It was one of the hardest time of your life, and it had been Peter’s too. But the boy had ended up bringing you out of it by sitting with you a few hours each day, reading a book or watching a show. He had been hurt too, and sometimes he had to make a quick break to the bathroom with the excuse of getting emotional with the book. Still, he had helped you and you were forever grateful.

The problem was that he still hadn’t said anything real about your father’s death. You had seen him carrying everything like nothing, college and moving away. And you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t as good as he said.

Peter lifted his arm slightly at your words, his eyes glassy and red. You used it to push his arm out of the way fully, and stare at his gorgeous brown eyes.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Pete. What happened – what it meant for us… we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. Sure, everyone suffered the blip. But they weren’t there, and you deserved the peace they’re searching for too” you explained.

“But I – it’s my first year, I can’t… I can’t…”

“If you need to, no one is gonna judge you for coming back home for a while” you comforted him, running a lazy finger across his jaw. “You saved them all, after all”

“So what? That’s not gonna take me anywhere, Y/N” he scoffed, finding the hem of your blouse and moving it between his fingers. “Engineer was my dream. It still is. I don’t want to leave it behind, but – but… I can’t – it’s too much, and –“

Peter’s chest started shaking under you, and his eyes looked away again. There was again, the panic he had been feeling since the begging of the year – maybe after the battle, or even before, when he learnt about five year gap. Unknown to you, Peter hadn’t even touched the suit since he arrived MIT. He spent the nights worrying about tests, studying and assignments, going as far as locking himself in the bathroom, away from his roommate, to have break downs in the shower.

He cursed himself as another tear rolled down his cheek, the lights from the forgotten movie only making the worrying look on your face more prominent. He had so desperately trying to hide it from you, but sometimes he forgot that you’re too similar to your father. Tony Stark noticed everything that was going on with him, so did you. After three weeks of bolting everything, he felt like digging himself in a hole and never coming up.

“You don’t have to leave MIT if you don’t want”

“But I’m failing! I can’t get any work done, I don’t understand anything and –“

“Look, it’s November already. You have winter break next month. And turns out, I have a very capable mother who is also worried about you and is willing to take up with the SI stuff until I come back” you smiled at his wide, surprised eyes. “What about I stay here? We can crash in a hotel, or you can make room for me in your bed. I’ll stay here until winter break, and then you will come home with me”

“I can’t ask you to stay” he squealed out, his voice too high pitched to be against the idea.

“You aren’t asking, I’m imposing, cause I’m a Stark and I’m in charge” you shrugged. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, hugging him close to you.

Both of you knew that it was still too long for winter break. You still had more than twenty days to come, that’s if MIT stopped their classes in early December. And even if you weren’t in college, you still had duties, a little sister and a mother to go back to. Yet Peter knew better than to say anything, so he turned his eyes back on the movie and blinked the tears away, already feeling a bit of that chest pressure lifting off.

“I’m in your corner, Pete” you mumbled softly, caressing the sink on his arm. “I’m always in your corner”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

@galaxystern08

@justifymyfeelings

@dummiesshort

@marvelhoesworld

@wild-rose-35

#peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #spiderman fic #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #imaginesmai #imaginemai

210 notes · View notes

jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

Text

The Set Up

Summary: College students and best friends Claire and Jamie are secretly dating. While back at home for a break, they go on a getaway to a lakehouse with their friends. Shenanigans ensue when Geillis and the others become determined to set Claire up with Frank. Unable to dissuade her without giving away her secret, Claire is forced to play along... much to Jamie’s dismay.

Read on AO3

Read on Tumblr:

I couldn’t help but stare at Jamie as we all piled out of Dougal’s van. It had been a long trip to the Mackenzie lakehouse (especially interminable for me since I had been squashed between Angus and Rupert in the back), and Jamie was stretching his long limbs in the open space of the driveway. His shirt rode up as he lifted his arms, revealing a delicious strip of smooth skin at his belly and giving me a tease of his remarkable abs. His red curls gleamed in the sunlight, framing his face in a soft halo of bronze. I wanted nothing more than to jump over Rupert and throw myself into my boyfriend’s arms and kiss the living daylights out of him.

But the problem was that he wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was a secret boyfriend.

Our relationship had progressed from best friends to much more than friends after we had gone away to university together. While we were free to flaunt our love on campus, things were much more complicated back home. Jamie’s parents put enormous pressure on him not to date and to focus on his studies, and would be even more appalled to learn he was with a Sassenach. To make matters worse, Jamie’s father, Brian, had major beef with my Uncle Lamb. All of this was the perfect storm to make telling our families nearly impossible for the moment. So, we had decided to keep our relationship a secret while back at home-- even to our childhood friends (who we knew wouldn’t be able to keep their gabs shut).

After all, how hard could it be to hide things for a little while?

I broke myself out of my longing for Jamie and walked to the back of the van to retrieve my duffle. I dove fearlessly into the precariously packed trunk, filled to the brim with supplies (and booze) for the weekend. I was working to extricate my bag from under a layer of other junk when a familiar, solid body pressed behind me and reached around me to pluck my bag from the mess.

“Here, lass,” Jamie’s voice rumbled in his chest, and I could feel it against my back. I couldn’t help the tiny gasp that fell from my lips.

“Thanks,” I murmured demurely, taking the offered bag from his hand.

Before I could turn toward the cabin where the rest of our friends were crowding the door-- which Dougal was seemingly struggling to unlock-- Jamie’s arm wrapped around my waist and kept me pressed to his front.

He leaned down, and his lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he whispered, “ye look verra bonny wi’ yer wee tank top and shorts.”

I turned myself in his grip so I was facing him, suddenly thankful for the protection of the car hiding us from view.

I gave him a playful smirk, and as I freed myself from his arms, I said playfully, “thank you, friend James. But if you keep that up, everyone will end up getting an eyeful.” I gave him a wink, and then turned my back to him to walk up to the front door, knowing full well that his gaze was fixed on my ass.

“Damn door,” Dougal was cursing as I approached.

Angus was wrestling the key away from him, taking his turn to try his hand at unlocking the house.

“Dougal, I swear, if we hafta drive all the way back because ye cannae even get into yer own cabin...” Geillis was starting in on her boyfriend.

“Can I try?” I asked an unsuccessful Angus, who was cursing up a storm in Gaelic which I assumed were rather unkind sentiments aimed at the doorknob.

I had just tried and failed when Jamie reached us.

“Alright, lad, yer the last one who hasna tried this damnable thing,” Dougal grumbled.

Jamie obliged, but found no success either. I set my duffle down in dismay. It seemed a bad omen for the trip that it hadn’t even begun and we had already been defeated by a faulty lock.

At that moment, Frank walked around from the side of the house, running a hand through his short, dark hair.

“The mechanism must be jammed,” he said, his accent crisp and prim as ever, “but there’s a window unlocked in the back. Shall we check it out?”

My friends all exchanged a look, and we nodded simultaneously, at a loss for anything else to try.

We walked around the back of the cabin and looked up at the window. It was small, and well off the ground. I found myself swallowing in dismay.

Dougal-- ever the unelected (and often unwanted) leader of the group-- was quick to take charge.

“Alright, this is a two man job. Jamie, yer the tallest, so ye’re on bottom of course. Anyone fancy gettin’ hoisted through a window?”

We all looked at each other in silence, exchanging wide-eyed looks of “not me.”

Jamie was not having it though. He stepped toward the window and turned to fix his blue gaze directly on me.

“Alright, lass, ye’re the smallest. Ready to take a wee trip through the windae?”

I rolled my eyes but stepped forward obligingly. I knew exactly why Jamie had called me out, and it wasn’t because of my petite frame. The man was eager for any excuse to put his hands on me.

He tilted his head down and gave me a little smirk.

“Hold on, Sassenach.”

With that, big hands were around my waist and lifting me off my feet. I let out a little squeal of surprise as I was suddenly hoisted into the air as if I weighed nothing.

I quickly got with the program, though, and reached up for the window. I fumbled with the bottom, trying to push it upward so I could climb in.

I felt myself moving and thought for a second that I was falling, but Jamie was just settling me to sit on his shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief and used my new secure position to leverage the window open.

“In ye go, lass,” came Jamie’s voice from below me.

His hands went from my waist down to my hips, and suddenly he was shoving me up and toward the window.

I caught the ledge and pushed myself through, all but diving into the opening.

But instead of sailing through, I landed on my stomach with an “oof” and found myself caught halfway through the window.

There were various chuckles as Jamie obligingly placed both hands on my butt and pushed. I tumbled through the window and landed on the floor with a thud that made all the breath leave my lungs. I lay on the floor stunned for a second, fighting to regain my breath.

“Ye alright, lass?” Dougal called.

I groaned and sat up. I hauled myself up and poked my head through the window.

“Just fine,” I grumbled, “I’m going to open the door.”

I crossed the room to the front door, listening to the stomping feet outside running around the cabin. I unlocked it and whipped open the door. I made a grandiose gesture with my arm to welcome them to the house, and they all applauded. Taking my role as doorman seriously, I held it open as each of my friends-- Dougal and Gellis, Angus and Rupert, Frank, and finally Jamie-- came through. Jamie, on his way in, gave me an owlish blink that passed for a wink, and I had to stifle a laugh.

I was interrupted out of my thoughts by a shout from Angus.

“Oi! Dougal. Ye call this a lakehouse? I thought yer family was rich?”

The cabin indeed was sparse… to say the least. The main room, which functioned both as a kitchen and living room, was covered in a fine layer of dust. The two couches seemed cozy though, and the kitchen was equipped, other than the fact that the sink was missing a faucet and one of the kitchen chairs had a leg broken off. The hardwood floors were mostly intact. Off to the side was a single hallway that led to the bathroom and the three bedrooms.

It would do.

Everyone began to separate-- making to explore and claim bedrooms.

It was quickly divided that Geillis and I would bunk together, Dougal and Frank, and finally, Jamie would be stuck with Rupert and Angus. I gave him a little smirk and then a sympathetic pout as he followed behind the two boys to set their stuff in the shared room.

Geillis grabbed my hand, and dragged me into ours.

As soon as we had gotten settled in, Geillis plopped herself down on the bed we’d be sharing and then rolled onto her back so she was looking up at me from her upside-down position.

“Soooo, Claire, darling…” she said in a sing-songy coo.

I rolled my eyes. “What Geillis?”

“Who are ye gonna hook up wi’ this trip?”

I started to laugh, but it turned into a choke, and I gasped for air in disbelief. I felt my cheeks flushing.

“What the hell do you mean?” I stuttered out as I willed my cheeks to calm down.

“Ye’re the only single girl on this trip wi’ loads of guys, duh,” Geillis rolled her eyes, and then rolled herself over to her stomach and propped her chin on her crossed arms in front of her.

“Listen, my beautiful prudish friend. Dougal and I have been talkin’...”

“Do you speculate on my love life often?” I asked in a poor attempt to deflect. I was starting to feel some discomfort pricking at the back of my spine. Did she somehow know about me and Jamie?

“We’ve been thinkin’,” she started again, looking at me with raised eyebrows that dared me to interrupt, “you and Frank would make a verra fine pair.”

Several emotions rushed through me at the same time. First was relief that she didn’t actually know about me and Jamie and our secret was safe. The second was disgust. The thought of Frank and I together almost made me want to laugh in her face. Finally, my brain added just a bit of panic to the mix, because I would have to tell her “no” without arousing any suspicion.

“I don’t think so…” I chuckled dubiously. I shook my head as an involuntary blush warmed my cheeks.

Geillis sat straight up, bouncing on her knees on the bed, and tugged on my arm with both hands.

“Claaaaire,” she whined.

“I’m just not into him, Geil.”

She fixed me with cold green eyes. “That lad is fiiine,” she purred, “and he looks at ye like ye’re the bloody queen herself. He’s always carried a torch for ye. Why will ye no’ give him a try?”

“I just-” I started to protest, but Geillis cut me off.

“Give me one good reason why ye dinna want tae be wi’ Frank, and I’ll leave ye alone. But… If ye keep givin’ me these weak-ass excuses, I’m settin’ ye up.”

Panic rushed through my veins. I wished I could press pause on the whole situation and go talk with Jamie. My mind was racing, trying to come up with any excuse other than the truth. But my traitorous brain couldn’t come up with a single thing.

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, looking at my friend helplessly.

With Jamie’s pleas to keep this a secret for a little while longer ringing in my mind, I made a split-second decision.

“Fine. Set us up.”

***

Apparently Geillis version of “setting us up” was forcing me into situations where I was alone with Frank as much as possible.

“Oh bloody feckin’ hell!” Geillis exclaimed, looking in her bag, “I must have left my chapstick all the way out in the car. Claire, darling,” she turned to me where I was sitting at the kitchen table, “will ye go get it for me?”

“Sure!” I said, standing up and reaching for the offered keys.

“Oh, but it’s saaae dark out there. A wee lass like yerself shouldnae go alone. Frank, would ye be a dear and see Claire safe?”

Frank gave a smile, also standing from his spot on the couch. “Of course,” he said, flashing his most handsome smile toward me.

I was aware that some (perhaps even many) women in our town were head-over-heels for him, finding him dashing. But as he offered an arm, the only thing I felt was annoyance.

The whole group was observing this, and a few childish “ooohs” emanated from where Rupert and Angus sat by the fireplace. I rolled my eyes.

Jamie suddenly appeared from the next room, drawn by the small ruckus.

“What’s-” he started to ask what was going on.

Geillis, looking incredibly proud of her match-making work, announced, “Oh, Claire and Frank were jus’ goin’ out together tae grab somethin’ from the car for me.”

Jamie— processing the scene before him as well as Geillis’ words— suddenly tensed, and his eyes flashed. Jamie had a very good poker face, and I doubted anyone noticed but me, but I knew him well enough to know jealous anger when I saw it. His blue eyes held a look of contempt aimed at the dark-haired Englishmen who was still holding out his arm toward me.

“I’d be happy to go get it fer ye instead, Geil,” Jamie tried.

It was a valiant effort to save me, I thought. But he severely underestimated the power of Geillis’ match-making efforts.

“Nae, nae, Claire and Frank would be happy tae do it. But thanks, lad. Off ye go now, ye two.”

I gave Jamie a covert look of helpless dismay and watched as he slumped in defeat. I felt a similar reluctance as I took Frank’s offered arm and we walked together outside.

The door shut behind us, and the safety of Jamie’s presence-- and everyone else’s-- slipped away.

“So,” Frank said, “it seems Geillis has it on her mind that we’d make a good couple.”

I laughed. “Seems that way.”

A nervous bubble was forming in my stomach.

“As does everyone else…” he said. It seemed he was trying to lead me toward something.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stayed silent, lips pressed firmly together.

Frank seemed to take that as shyness, because he stepped closer to me as we walked down the driveway, and then grew even bolder.

“I have to say, I’m inclined to agree with them,” he purred.

His words rang in my ears as panic gripped me. My throat felt dry and scratchy, and I had no idea how to answer him. Why hadn’t I fought Geillis harder on this?

Frank suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“You’re beautiful, Claire,” he announced. He said it was such finality, it was as if he expected me to throw myself at him in gratitude for the compliment. As if him saying it somehow sealed the deal that I should feel something for him.

I mustered a “thanks,” and then quickly scurried toward the van.

I unlocked it and threw myself into the passenger's seat before Frank could say anything else to me. I rooted around in the glove compartment until I found Geillis’ chapstick, cursing both it and her under my breath. I wished that I could just run inside to Jamie, grab his hand, and drag him outside with me.

But that wasn’t in the cards for us just now. So, accepting my fate, I hopped out of the van to face Frank again.

He was waiting patiently for me next to the van. Apparently he was taking his job of protecting me from all the late-evening attackers (ha!) because he was looking around as if he was really surveying the area for dangers to protect me from.

He offered his arm, and I reluctantly took it again.

Frank was a good guy. He was my friend. I didn’t want to be terribly mean to him. Even more, I didn’t want to endure another grilling session from Geillis about why I didn’t like him. I would just have to play along for the weekend. Suck it up, Beauchamp.

Frank was blessedly quiet on our way back in, and before I knew it, we were once again inside the cabin and in the protection of the presence of others.

Little did I know that the “others” would actually provide very little protection, and would more be terrible influences and orchestrators of putting me in situations I didn’t want to be in.

I wished I could talk to Jamie and explain what the hell was going on, but there wasn’t really an opportunity in the small cabin to get him alone without raising suspicion.

For the thousandth time this trip, I wished that I could throw myself at Jamie and feel his arms wrapped around me, hugging me close. I imagined what would happen if I got up at that very moment, walked around the room, and sat down on Jamie’s lap. My mind fantasized about how Jamie would pull me close and kiss me in front of everyone, and then allow me to snuggle into him and lay my head on his shoulder as the guys told their stories.

But that wasn’t the way things were just yet.

The group had just had dinner and was settling down in front of the fireplace on the couches. Anticipating all the alcohol we were about to drink, we’d whipped up a bucketload of spaghetti on the rickety stove and wolfed it down. Then, the drinks were broken out, and the festivities moved to the living room.

I was sitting next to Geillis nursing a beer and wondering to myself why anyone ever drank the foul stuff. I cursed myself for letting Rupert and Angus be in charge of the booze selection.

All of a sudden, Geillis, in her typical dramatic fashion, shot to her feet.

“Oh Frank,” she called across the room to the dark-haired man who was leaning against the wall, “come take my spot. Next to Claire.”

Geillis shot me a smirk over her shoulder, and I had to restrain myself to keep from rolling my eyes. I turned instead to watch Frank heading toward us, and in the process, caught sight of Jamie sitting across the room, his nose buried in his beer and eyes lowered. But I noticed the clench in his jaw, and my heart ached in sympathy.

I was brought from my musings when Frank plopped down on the couch next to me, the impact causing a slight tremor in the cushions that sent me sliding toward the middle-- closer to Frank, damn it.

Frank turned toward me and was just about to open his mouth when I was saved from a private conversation by Rupert.

“Claire,” he bellowed, “who dae ye think would win in a fight— Dougal or a black bear?”

“Oh definitely Dougal. He’s got enough rage to take down something 3 times his size.”

All the boys let out guffaws, smacking Dougal’s shoulder in congratulations at the praise.

As the conversation went on, I found my head had a pleasant buzz, and I remembered why beer wasn’t so bad. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it too. The room had a warmth in it-- a bright, cozy atmosphere that made everyone a little more boisterous.

Frank, for his part, was especially melted by the cozy feel. He had been moving closer and closer to me as the conversations progressed so his thigh now touched mine and his side was barely pressed against me. Just as Angus was telling a dirty joke, Frank took the opportunity to raise his arm and drape it over my shoulder.

I started to stiffen, but forced myself to calm down. This was innocent, I could handle this.

But someone else couldn’t quite handle it.

I saw the exact moment when Jamie looked up to catch sight of us. A shadow fell across his features and they instantly hardened into a stony expression. But his eyes-- God his eyes-- they flashed an intense blue as they narrowed, and I could see every bit of tension in his muscles. He was coiled so tightly I thought he must surely either burst or fly across the room. But he was using every ounce of self control he possessed not to rush over, pull Frank from me, and beat him to a pulp.

For not the first time that night, I felt a little bad for Frank. The poor sop thought he had a real shot with a single woman. He had no idea the truth. Guilt made my stomach churn. I wasn’t exactly leading him on-- I made no mention that I returned his affections nor signaled that I enjoyed his touch in any way— but Frank had persisted.

So, Frank’s arm rested around my shoulders, and Jamie sulked across the room, his eyes never leaving us once.

Nearly an hour later, we were all well and truly sloshed. For me, that meant wanting desperately to jump Jamie’s bones. It must have been the same for Geillis and Dougal, because they disappeared into the back bedroom Dougal and Frank would be sharing. For Frank, he grew more bold, and had himself pressed fully against me. He kept trying to spark up conversation with me, but everything about him seemed to dull, and I mostly ignored him. Poor drunk Jamie was so fixated on me and Frank that he hardly said a word. He just glowered from his spot in the shadows across the room. Finally, for Angus and Rupert, their drunkenness was simply an intensification of their usual uninhibited personalities.

So, naturally, some fireworks were broken out.

“Do ye ken wha’ would happen if we sent it up the chimney?!” Angus bellowed.

“Woaahh,” I staggered to my feet-- blissfully removing myself from Frank’s arm-- and stumbled over to where Angus and Rupert were already knelt by a big box of fireworks that they produced from God-knows-where.

“I ha’ a lighter!” Rupert announced proudly as he produced said lighter from his pocket.

“You are going to burn the whole house down!” I exclaimed. I snatched the lighter from his fingers and walked into the kitchen to set it on the table.

When I returned, Jamie was staring at me unabashedly, and his beautiful blue eyes were pleading with me not to return to Frank’s side.

His wish was granted as Angus pulled out a couple sparklers with a wide grin and an opened-mouth laugh of glee. Before I could react, he was sprinting for the kitchen and grabbing the lighter. Rupert was on his heels, and the two boys smashed into each other as they reached the table. Angus snagged the lighter, and they both ran around to the other side of the island, sparklers in hand.

I found I didn’t have the willpower to stop them and could only pray that they didn’t burn the cabin down as they lit the sparklers. I watched in both fascination and dread as the little fireworks shot into sparks of light. Angus and Rupert waved them around triumphantly in the kitchen, faced awed.

I instinctively turned back toward the living room with the desire to see Jamie’s reaction, but to my surprise, I found him stalking into the kitchen, his usually soft blue eyes hard with anger and authority.

“Outside. Now,” he bellowed at the two fools. His voice held all the authority of a drill sergeant, and even more menacing was his posture. His back was ramrod straight, and his arm lifted to point straight at the door.

Jamie’s order sent Angus and Rupert scurrying for the door. I watched with a bit of disbelief as the very drunken men (boys, really) fell over themselves to shove their way outside, the sparklers still popping in their hands. Frank rose, too, muttering something about making sure they didn’t kill themselves.

The moment the door closed behind the three of them, hands were wrapping around my waist and pulling me into the protection of an alcove near the back door, and a hard body pressed me against the wall.

Before I had any time to process my sudden change of location, Jamie’s lips were attacking mine. He kissed with all the desperation and ferocity of a man who was starving. His arms tightening around my waist and pulling me flush against his body, he held me close and ravished my mouth. I felt him pouring out all the possessive energy that I knew had been building the entire night. I returned his kiss with equal desperation, my drunken brain responding on instinct, and I wrapped my arms around him.

“Ye’re mine,” he all but growled against my lips.

I managed a breathy, “yours,” just before his fingers wrapped themselves into my hair and tugged me into another deep kiss.

Finally, he pulled back, and we were both panting for breath, chests heaving in the slightest. I took a moment to study his face. His lips were puffy and his face lit with a fine dusting of red high on his cheekbones. But as my gaze swept further upward, I saw that his eyes blazed with possessive jealousy. That hard look made me sober instantly.

“Jamie, I’m sorry, they--” I started.

He seemed to deflate a bit, the muscles of his shoulders relaxing for the first time nearly this whole evening. He reached out a hand and softly cupped my cheek, and then let his fingers explore backward so they were carding through my curls. I melted into his soft touch.

“I dinna fash, I ken it’s no’ yer fault,” he said, instantly assuaging my fears.

I drew closer to him like a moon drawn into orbit. Pressing myself to him, I let my head thump against his shoulder in exasperation.

“Geillis has it in her head that Frank and I would make a great couple. I couldn’t tell her no without exposing us…”

“I ken, they’ve all been shovin’ the two of ye together all night,'' he growled, “and I could see ye pleadin’ wi’ me to rescue ye. God, Claire, I wish to God I couldha rushed over and torn his arm from his body jes’ for touchin’ ye.”

I tried to cut Jamie off, but he wasn’t done.

“Christ, Sassenach. I could kill him for this.”

Before I could start a reply— I had no idea what I might have said: defended Frank or tried to reassure Jamie— a warm mouth was capturing mine again. With a little whisper of a gasp, Jamie detached from my lips and started trailing his mouth down my jaw and to my neck.

He began to suck on the skin there, and my hands flew up to bury my fingers in his curls in response. I held him against me as he nipped and sucked and worried his teeth into the sensitive skin.

“He means nothing to me, Jamie--” my words were punctuated by a gasp, “I just have to play along-- for a little— until I can tell Geillis it didn’t work out.” His talented lips traveling up and down my neck made it nearly impossible for me to get the words out.

Jamie rose up, his eyes glimmering with the now familiar deep shade of blue that indicated jealousy, and towered above me.

“Aye. Play along. Jes’ dinna forget that ye’re mine.”

I shook my head and fixed him with earnest eyes.

“Never,” I breathed.

He gave me a smile that made my stomach flutter and my fears about his reaction dissolve completely.

Reaching down to tug me closer again, he joined our lips once more, and I finally had the opportunity to simply revel in his nearness, as I had been dreaming of doing this entire day.

Just as I lifted my hands to tangle in his curls and pull him closer, the sound of the door opening sent us flying apart.

Since I was trapped against the wall, after Jamie jumped backward, he quickly turned away from me and grabbed at something on the kitchen table in an attempt at nonchalance. I surveyed the alcove I was in and discovered a scrub brush hanging on a hook on the wall. Holding it up, I emerged to see the three men standing in the living room, paying zero attention to the kitchen. I abandoned my hastily-discovered, but now unnecessary, excuse by the sink and headed back toward them.

“So, did you boys have a nice time safely enjoying your fireworks?” I inquired.

“Aye!” Rupert bellowed, and I let out a laugh-- mostly releasing nervous energy at how close Jamie and I had gotten to being discovered.

As I walked back over, I noticed Frank’s dark eyes watching me intently. I could tell he had words on the tip of his tongue.

I must have returned his gaze for a second too long because suddenly the words were coming.

“It’s awfully pleasant out there. You can see so many stars. Care to join me, Claire?”

It took every ounce of self control for me not to turn behind me and shoot a helpless look at Jamie. But I could feel his eyes on me by the prickle in my spine. His weren’t the only pair fixed on me, though, as Frank was staring at me, waiting for me to respond to his invitation.

“Frank, that’s very kind, but I really am tired and think maybe I should--”

“It’s only 10 pm, ye granny!” Angus interjected, “ye cannae go tae bed this early!”

I stifled a groan of frustration. This weekend was making me understand the definition of “stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

I forced myself to give a smile to Frank. “Oh, alright then. But not for too long. I wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the porch.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’d carry you inside--”

Frank’s flirtation was cut off by a loud bang from the kitchen. All heads swiveled in that direction to find Jamie standing at the sink (his expression nothing short of smug).

“Oh, sorry, dropped a pot,” he said, voice sounding not at all apologetic.

He gave me a tiny reassuring nod which soothed the knot in my stomach and gave me the courage to turn back to Frank.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Somehow, I felt that I was walking to my own execution.

* Fortunately— and I truly thanked God profusely— Frank was not so drunk that he tried to kiss me. We just sat side-by-side on the edge of the porch and looked out at the sky. There was enough distance between us to help me feel comfortable (although I caught him trying to scooch closer a few times). Mostly, Frank rambled on about the constellations, naming them and giving some random fact about their discovery or uniqueness. I had been lying earlier when I had said I was tired, but after listening to Frank drone on (I pitied the girl who would someday actually go on a real date with him), I really began to actually want to doze.

My head jerked once as I nodded off and then caught myself, and when I looked up, I found Frank staring at me in the moonlight.

“Maybe you should go to bed…” Frank politely gave me the out, and I couldn’t have been more grateful.

“I think I should,” I agreed, and before he could say another word, I stood up and brushed my hands down my pants.

I bid him a hasty, “Goodnight, Frank,” and then fled inside.

In the living room, Rupert and Angus were passed out on the couches— Rupert with one leg thrown over the top of the arm, and Angus fully upside down, with his head off the edge— and both snoring profusely. Jamie was sitting in a chair by the hearth, giving a glum look to the neck of his half-drunk beer bottle. When I entered, his gaze shot up toward me. I knew Frank would be on my heels, so I couldn’t linger to comfort him. I just gave him a calming smile, blew him a discreet kiss, and then said, “Goodnight, Jamie,” just as the door opened again.

“Goodnight, Sassenach,” came his reply as I fled toward the door of my room.

Geillis was still with Dougal (I pitied Frank if he was careless enough to head into his and Dougal’s shared room) so I splayed myself out on the bed and luxuriated in the feeling of being horizontal. It had been a long day, and I was more than ready to fall into the embrace of unconsciousness. I managed to get myself up to brush my teeth, take ibuprofen, and drink some water before I fell back into bed.

As I started to drift off, thoughts of Jamie circled mercilessly in my head. I sighed, rolled over to my other side, and fluffed the pillow under my cheek. I hated this whole situation. Still, the way he had kissed me-- God, maybe jealousy was kind of hot. That brought a smile to my face, and as I closed my eyes again, I relived Jamie slamming me into the wall and kissing me over and over in my head.

*** The next morning brought a broken stove. Thankfully, Dougal was able to produce a camping stove from somewhere in the basement, and we all gathered on the porch to watch as he made pancakes. Geillis managed to shove Frank at me and get him to sit next to me on the porch swing, but other than his thwarted attempt at taking my hand, the morning was rather uneventful.

That day, we were planning to head to Loch A’an for a day of swimming. It would be a bit of hiking to the lake, and a cold swim once we got there, but Dougal and Jamie knew of a secluded beach that promised some fun without too many tourists.

Standing above my suitcase to get ready, I sighed to myself as I pulled out my swimming suit. The little black bikini had been chosen for Jamie’s discreet enjoyment. (I had secretly imagined how his eyes would bug out and how he’d have to hold his tongue when I first undressed at the lakeshore.) But now, with Frank’s attentions, I regretted bringing such a risque choice.

I changed quickly, and just as I was about to put on my shirt, Geillis entered the room.

When I had managed to fit my head through the collar and tug it down, I noticed Geillis looking at me with a smirk.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Ye have a hickey, Claire.”

I let out a gasp, and slapped a hand over the sore spot on my neck. I walked over to the mirror and looked to find I indeed had a hickey just at the edge of my collar.

Damn it, Jamie!

“Things go well wi’ Frank last night, then?” Geillis prodded.

“Uhh--” I stuttered helplessly.

I couldn't very well deny it, because there were no other options as to who would have given it to me.

“I--” I started again.

Geillis was looking at me with those big “spill the gossip” green eyes.

“I have to go!” I burst out.

I frantically snagged my bag and fled the room, then ran outside to join the safety of others.

On the drive, Dougal’s van bumping viciously on the gravel roads, the boys burst out into Gaelic song. Frank and I-- momentarily united by our Sassenach nature-- could only laugh along at their rowdy renditions. I smiled to myself when Jamie’s voice rose above the rest. He was adorably off key but he more than made up for it with his enthusiasm and unabashed volume.

It was a thankfully short drive, and the songs switched to English halfway through which allowed me to participate. Before I knew it, Dougal was pulling into the lot. We all piled out with nearly the same eagerness as we had after the 4 hour drive to get to the cabin.

As soon as we were out, I hastily slathered sunscreen over my poor pasty skin. Jamie always told me that I had ‘verra fine skin, like pearl,’ but I was cursing it since no one else had stopped to put any on themselves and were just about to leave me behind. Jamie, bless his heart, lingered back while the others started up the trail.

I finished as quickly as I could and ran to catch up. As I reached Jamie, he gently grasped my elbow and pulled me close to him (with a careful eye ahead to be sure no one was looking back).

“I wish I could help ye wi’ that sunscreen, a nighean,” he said in a low voice right next to my ear. A shiver went down my spine in response, but I didn’t trust my lips with words.

We quickened our pace to catch up with the others, and soon we had made it to the back of the group.

I took in the surroundings with awe. The cliffs, green with the summer, loomed around us. Their tips were jagged and rocky, and I felt myself itching to climb to the top of one to take in the view. It was a perfect summer day. Blessedly, it wasn’t raining, and the sun glimmered off of the water in the distance. It had been unseasonably warm that summer, almost unnaturally so, which was the only reason we were daring to swim in the usually chilly lake.

I was so entranced by the scenery that about halfway into our hike, my foot slipped off a rock on the edge of the path. My ankle rolled, and I let out a yelp as I started to skid down the slight embankment.

Quick as a flash, Jamie had grabbed my arm and hauled me up. I fell against him, still completely off balance, and found myself pressed to his chest for a second before I gained awareness and pulled back.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” Jamie asked. I noticed his eyes were shining with worry.

The rest of the group had halted and turned back, and Geillis was making her way toward me from the front of the group.

“I’m fine, I think. I rolled my ankle a little though.”

I tested my weight on it and winced as a small jolt of pain traveled up my leg.

“Do ye need me tae take ye back?” Jamie asked in a low voice.

“I’m alright, it’s just a little tender. I can keep going. Maybe just can you--”

“Frank!” Geillis’ sing-songy call interrupted my question, “why dinna ye help Claire? Her puir ankle is painin’ her, I’m sure she could use an arm tae hold onto.”

Frank split apart from the group and materialized at my side.

“Allow me,” He said as he managed to shoulder his way between me and Jamie.

I stood mutely, and he walked around to my bad side and started to lift my right arm over his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s really not necessary, I can walk,” I chuckled nervously as his hand snaked its way around my waist.

“Perhaps just until the soreness wears off,” Frank said dismissively.

He took a step forward, and pressed to him as I was, I went with him. I accepted my fate with the burning of embarrassment flaring in my cheeks.

Truth be told, it was helpful to relieve the pressure on my ankle. Frank actually made a decent crutch, and we quickly found our rhythm. Worse than the pain in my ankle would have been, though, was the sight of Jamie walking next to me but just out of reach. His shoulders were slumped, and he was trying desperately not to look at us.

God, I wished it was his arms around me.

I clenched my teeth and allowed Frank to help me forward. The ground soon turned into an incline, and I looked up from my feet to see that we were nearing the secluded beach of the lake. It was a rocky shoreline, with big boulders sticking up out of the water all over the place, but it still looked very inviting. A child-like glee rushed through me at the thought of playing around the boulders and in the water.

Soon, we were all on the beach, and Frank was letting me go to set down his things. The boys ripped off their shirts, and Angus and Rupert went flying into the water with loud whoops of glee. I set down my bag and then straightened to find two pairs of eyes on me-- Frank and Jamie.

Jamie had already stripped off his shirt, and I took a fleeting glance up and down his body to appreciate him. Frank stood further from the water, by the bushes, but I could tell he was just as eager as my boyfriend to watch me strip down to my swimming suit.

A wave of frustration swept over me, and I felt very bold as I met Frank’s gaze and gave him a chastising stare in return. Realizing he had been discovered watching, Frank averted his eyes, and made to take off his own shirt.

Might as well get this over with, Beauchamp.

I stripped off my shirt and shimmied down my shorts all in one quick motion, and then threw the clothes into my bag.

Jamie’s reaction was comically similar to what I had imagined.

His eyes did indeed go wide, as his gaze very markedly raked up and down my body. A grin started to form on his lips, but then he suddenly remembered our location, and horror flashed in his eyes as he looked toward Frank and the others. I thought Jamie had half a mind to run over and throw his shirt over me to cover me up (the thought of which made me laugh), but he was left frozen and rooted in place.

I began walking toward the water, hoping perhaps I could get there before Frank finished rummaging through his bag. But no such luck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him catch sight of me, but I had no desire to take in his reaction.

Damn it, I am not on display for you to ogle!

I waded quickly into the water, gasping at its chilly temperature and then hastily sinking down in the shallows to hide myself from any unwanted view.

Soon, all of my frustration over male objectification was swept from my mind as Geillis appeared and tried to dunk my head under water.

We swam and clambered on rocks and boulders for what felt like hours. I floated in the water and allowed the sun to warm me, occasionally turning over to dive under and enjoy the feeling of being submerged in the cold water.

After a while, I grew tired, and I swam my way over to a cluster of particularly large rocks. I pulled myself up onto one and stretched out on its warm surface. Peaking around to make sure that Frank hadn’t snuck up on me without my notice (I had been carefully avoiding him ever since getting in the water), I noticed that the rocks blocked me from view of the entire group, and I allowed myself to relax. The surface of the rock was smooth, as if made for lounging, and I soaked up as much of its warmth as I could.

I nearly screamed as a hand closed around my ankle and jerked me out of my peaceful daze.

I clamped my mouth shut as I caught sight of a grinning Jamie, his curls wet and dripping around his face, his upper body resting casually on my rock.

“Sorry tae startle ye, mo ghraidh. It’s jes’ that ye looked sae bonny and peaceful, I couldna help myself.”

The hand moved from my ankle to caress up the outside of my calf and squeeze. Even just a subtle touch like that had me sitting up and reaching for him.

“Get up here, bloody Scot,” I whispered.

We both took a quick glance around to ensure no one else had wandered into our secluded spot, and then the next moment, Jamie was hauling himself up next to me and gathering me into his arms.

The kiss was nothing like the one the night before. Jamie took his time, lips soft and giving as he patiently pressed them to mine. His hand reached up to cup my neck (God his hand was so big) and his thumb massaged it gently. The kiss was a slow burn, but the fire nonetheless scorching for it. I felt him smile against me as I smoothed my hands greedily over the bare skin of his back.

“I’ve missed ye,” he murmured against my lips.

“We’ve been together all day,” I teased, knowing completely what he meant. I had been feeling the same way. Being so close to him yet forbidden to touch him or even pay attention to him was maddening.

“Aye, but ye and Frank have been together all day, too,” Jamie’s voice absolutely dripped with jealousy, and his burr came out strong with Frank’s name, turning it into a derisive “Frrrrrank.”

“I don’t want to talk about him, I just want to enjoy being with you,” I pleaded as I fused our lips together again.

I hated that every moment had to be stolen in secret. Even now, I would have given anything to spend time simply laughing and joking with him, wrestling him in the water. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I was pretty darn grateful for his kisses.

But Jamie must have somehow read my thoughts, because he was pulling back and taking my hand. His eyes held a gleam of mischief.

“Will ye swim a bit wi’ me, Sassenach?” he asked.

When I nodded, he splashed into the water, and then dragged my hand down so I followed him.

I had adjusted to being on the warmth of the rock, so the moment my body submerged under the freezing water, it was a shock to my system. I cursed under my breath and began to shiver.

Jamie laughed at me, his eyes crinkling delightfully at the corners.

“Cold, lass?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Of course I’m cold,” I chattered, “aren’t you?”

“Nae. Ye ken Scots dinna get cold, Sassenach. Come ‘ere and let me warm ye up.”

Jamie’s hands found my hips, and he pulled me through the water until I was pressed flush against his bare chest. I smiled and wrapped my arms around my neck and my legs around his waist.

He floated around for a while with me clinging to him like a koala bear, keeping his arms tightly around my shivering form as he waded further backward.

“I kent ye were naturally cold, but ye really are freezin’, puir wee thing. Ye’re shaking’ so hard ye’re makin’ my teeth rattle,” Jamie commented.

I nodded pathetically against his chest.

“Would be quite a shame if I were tae--”

All of a sudden, Jamie was dipping me backward into the water, making to throw me from him and submerge me.

But I clung to him with all my might and let out a whisper-screech, and he was forced to straighten back up, laughing. I scrambled further up his body, climbing him like a tree in an effort to stay out of the water.

“Alright, if ye’ll no’ leave me, I’ll jes hafta go wi’ ye.”

With an evil grin, Jamie bent his knees, and we both plunged under.

I pushed on his chest, breaking free of his arms and swimming backwards away from him.

“Traitor,” I hissed, “you’re supposed to be my personal heater.”

“And yer supposed tae be my girlfriend, no’ my baby koala,” he shot back.

“I’ll show you baby koala,” I laughed as I lunged toward him.

I grabbed the top of his head and made it shove it downward under the water, but I had underestimated Jamie’s strength, and he simply didn’t budge as I attempted to pull his face down.

I froze, looking at Jamie and the mischievous gleam that had returned to his eyes. I had just enough time to mutter a “crap,” before he was on me.

I had to suppress a squeal as, instead of grabbing for my head as I had expected, Jamie dove under, grabbed my ankle, and tugged me sharply downward. I gasped in air just before my mouth went under the surface. I kicked wildly in the murky water around me, hoping to catch Jamie in the rib as payback, but my feet made no satisfying connections.

My head popped back out of the water, and I saw Jamie bobbing a meter away.

He started swimming, and I pursued him all the way to where the lake grew slightly shallower and we could both touch the bottom.

Once I reached him, I shoved at him playfully, and he indulgently pretended that I was actually propelling him backward.

“Alright-- alright,” he said between laughs as I continued to push at his chest, “truce.”

I paused and eyed him warily.

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Always,” he said as he leaned in eagerly with lips puckered invitingly.

Just before he reached me, I cupped my hands and sent a spray of water right up into his face.

Jamie sputtered at the splash, and then looked up at me, mouth agape in betrayal.

“Ye’ll pay fer that, little lassie,” he growled.

He was just about to lunge toward me when a shout of “Claire? Jamie?” came from a short distance away. We both froze and looked at each other.

“Over here!” Jamie yelled.

“Och, thank Christ. We thought ye may have drowned,” came Rupert’s answering call.

“Nae. Jes’ got distracted swimmin’ after a fish and found Claire. Come on, lass.”

I leaned in to give Jamie one last gratuitous, self indulgent kiss, and then we swam back to the group.

We had a picnic on the beach, all inhaling our sandwiches and crisps as if we hadn’t eaten in days. Then, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around and taking in the beautiful sight. After we had enough of lazing about, we decided to call it a day and head back. As we finished packing up, Frank appeared at my side and offered to help me on the walk back. I insisted that my ankle was much improved and declined politely, and I watched as his face fell in disappointment. From behind him, I noticed Jamie’s light up.

I walked back (by myself, thank you very much) at a brisk pace, eager to remain at the front of the group and away from Frank.

Geillis kept looking at me and gesturing toward Frank, but I just ignored her.

I was pretty worn out from a long day of playing in the water. I was drooping in fatigue in that way one does after their strength has been sapped by the cold. When we all squished together into the van, I found myself sitting next to Jamie in the back. As Dougal began the long drive back, the rumble of the van underneath me began to lull me to sleep.

I craned my head back to rest it on the seatback and frowned, knowing there would certainly be a crick in my neck by the end of the drive.

As I began to drift off, I felt a big, familiar hand gently tilt my head and guide it onto his shoulder. I smiled sleepily and nuzzled my face into Jamie’s shirt.

Best part of the trip so far.

***

Dinner was leftover spaghetti and salads because we had been too cheap to buy anything else. I still wolfed it down, and didn’t even mind the taste of the accompanying beer. We played a drinking game after dinner— Angus insisting that beer and tequila were a dessert. It was something with cards, but I was so confused by the rules and so bad at it that I was drunk within only a few rounds and had no hope of ever actually learning the game. Frank was drunk too, and he was fully pressed against my side, an arm slung casually around my waist.

I stiffened, trying to send the message that it was an unwelcome touch, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, because his arm remained.

Geillis shot me a million-watt smile, and said, “they’re so cute together, are they no’, Dougal?”

Dougal only made a Scottish noise in his throat before picking up his beer.

I couldn’t bear to look toward Jamie to see either his rage or his despair.

I ducked out of the game politely, saying that I was well beyond my drink limit, and then tore myself from Frank’s grip and scurried off to the bathroom.

I shuddered to myself as I looked in the mirror.

One more day, Beauchamp. Tomorrow you go home. You can do this.

I ran my fingers through my wild curls and then stepped out of the bathroom.

I was just passing the final door in the hallway and about to reenter the living room when a hand shot out and tugged me by the wrist into the dark room. I stumbled straight into Jamie’s solid chest.

“Sorry, I didna mean to scare ye, but seein’ him touchin’ ye like that drives me mad.”

His arms looped possessively around my waist, and I melted against him.

“It drives me mad, too,” I said as I was fitted perfectly into Jamie’s embrace.

He drew back and hooked a finger under my chin to tilt my face upward. He leaned down and attached his mouth to mine, kissing me like he never wanted to do anything else. His lips pressed insistently, withdrawing for a moment only to dive back in again with renewed fervor. Our kisses made soft snicking sounds in the dark room as he pressed and released.

“Jamie--” I forced out between kisses, “I-- they’re going to-- mhmmm-- notice we’re gone.”

He pulled back reluctantly, and my lips tingled with the absence of his touch.

“I suppose ye’re right. Go on then,” he said sadly with a tilt of the head.

He placed a solid (but surprising soundless) smack on my bum as I leaned in for one last quick kiss and then left the room.

The rest of the night’s entertainment went by in a flash. Frank was all over me. It was like a game of cat and mouse-- I’d evade him for a moment only to be cornered the next. I finally ended up on the floor next to Geillis, desperately linking my arm to hers in the vain hope that it might discourage Frank.

We were all seated on the floor in a circle and looking expectantly at each other in the hopes that someone might suggest something else.

A suggestion did come, but not a welcome one.

“How about we play spin the bottle?” Geillis giggled with raised brows.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Thankfully, Rupert piped up.

“Tha’s no faiiir,” he whined, “the only lasses here are ye and Claire. I dinna want tae end up kissin’ this numpty,” he jerked a beefy thumb in the direction of Angus, who was staring drunkenly down at his hand as if it was the most bizarre thing he’d ever seen.

“He has a point, Geil,” Jamie declared in support, “I dinna think we have quite the numbers tonight. It’s late, perhaps we should go tae bed.”

Geillis nodded in acquiescence.

All at the same time, we staggered to our feet, using any available object for support.

“Before we part ways, I hafta suggest a wee room trade,” Geillis said suddenly.

Everyone froze at that. We were all tired and beyond desperate for a soft bed. I noticed everyone’s eyes widening in dismay. Rupert looked ready to stomp his feet like a toddler having a tantrum.

Geillis shot him a look. “Dinna get yer panties in a twist, I didna mean you. I would like to spend the night wi’ Dougal, so how about I go tae his room and Frank goes tae Claire’s room so they can have a wee bit o’ alone time?”

Horror flooded my veins and I suddenly went still as a statue. My brain provided a very unhelpful mantra of no, no, no but produced no coherent response, or better yet, rejection to offer Geillis.

My eyes flicked helplessly to Jamie, and I found him seething with rage. His hands were clenched at his sides in tight fists of barely controlled anger.

“Alright by me,” Frank piped up from beside me.

All of a sudden, all of Jamie’s jealous fury exploded.

“That’s it!” He bellowed, and launched himself across the room.

He shoved Frank away from me so hard that the poor man went staggering backward until he plopped down on the couch. Jamie whirled to face me and grabbed me forcefully around the waist and jerked me against him.

“Claire is my girlfriend, alright? We’re dating! My heart and soul belongs to her, and I canna bear tae see this go on fer another second. She’s mine.”

The room was absolutely silent and dead still as everyone stared at me and Jamie. His declaration hung in the room for the longest moment, and the tension was so thick I thought I would have been able to feel it if I waved my hand through the air. Jamie still had me pressed against him tightly, and was looking around with narrowed eyes as if daring anyone to try to take me from him.

Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of Geillis beginning to laugh.

“Took ye long enough.”

Now it was mine and Jamie’s turn to be steamrolled by shock.

“What do you mean, ‘took you long enough’?” I asked slowly, finding my tongue to be thick and heavy in my mouth.

“I’ve been tryin’ tae get him tae do that all weekend!” she exclaimed. She had the audacity to sound exasperated.

I just stared at my friend blankly. She rolled her eyes.

“That’s what the whole “Frank thing” was about. I needed a way to force ye to fess up.”

I was still so taken aback that I couldn’t seem to find my voice. But Jamie did.

“Ye kent? About us?” He asked incredulously.

“Aye, of course I did! Ye two arena exactly discreet. Ye cannae keep yer hands tae yourselves, fer Christ’s sake! Any moment when ye think no one’s lookin’, ye’re all over each other. Plus, ye always disappear at the same time. And ye didna think we’d catch on?”

Angus chose that moment to speak up. “For the record, I didna ken a thing.”

“Shut yer mouth, ye big oaf,” Geillis hissed, “this isna about you.”

She crossed her arms and looked at us accusingly. Her sharp, squinted eyes demanded answers.

I sighed. Jamie shifted a little next to me and resettled his arm around my waist-- more comfortable and supportive and less possessive now that it had been made clear that I was off the market.

“Claire and I have been seeing each other ever since we went off to University of Edinburgh,” Jamie began to explain.

Dougal clapped his hands in triumph and elbowed Geillis. “I told ye it’d been that long.”

Jamie leveled him with a look. “Do ye wanna hear the story or no’?”

Everyone fell silent, and I picked up the narrative.

“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything sooner. You know Jamie’s parents wouldn’t approve, and neither would my Uncle, so we decided to keep things a secret while at home until we could break the news to them.”

Everyone nodded understandingly. Relief made all the tension flow from my muscles, and I leaned heavily against Jamie. Our friends just stood there staring at us for a long moment, as if sizing us up as a couple. I felt like a mannequin on display, and held Jamie a little more tightly.

“Were you terribly surprised to figure out we were together?” I found myself asking to break the silence

“Och, no, the lad’s been head over heels for ye since ye were bairns,” Dougal said with a dismissive wave.

I looked up at Jamie with a smile. “What? Is that true?”

The dusting of red making its way up his neck to his cheeks was all the answer I needed.

“Aye. I kent I was gonna marry ye the first time I laid eyes on ye the first day of primary school. It jes’ took a little while fer adult us tae catch up.”

My own cheeks burned at his words and I went up on tip-toes to place a sweet, chaste kiss on Jamie’s lips.

Hollers came from Angus and Rupert, ever the childish ones, and I pressed my smile onto Jamie’s.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Frank hadn’t said a peep the entire time Jamie and I were explaining ourselves. With a furrowed brow, I turned behind me to where Jamie had pushed Frank onto the couch.

As I did, I was greeted by the sight of him completely passed out and slumbering peacefully on the couch.

“I guess he’ll get filled in sooner or later,” Jamie chuckled.

We turned back to the others. I felt a lightness in my chest at the transparency and was relieved that I had the freedom to spend time with Jamie as much as I pleased again.

“Well, I guess we really will have tae change rooms now,” Geillis announced, “I’ll sleep wi’ Dougal, Jamie’ll go wi’ Claire, and Frank--- weel, I guess Frank’ll sleep out here tonight.”

Jamie’s hand slipped up under my shirt to rest on my bare skin. I felt him tap his fingers against my side in eager anticipation of being together again. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

“Sounds like a plan, goodnight everyone,” I said.

I had barely finished bidding everyone goodnight when Jamie began dragging me down the hall toward my room.

Good night indeed.

***

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we took our time packing and cleaning up. Someone must have brought Frank up to speed, because now it was his turn to mope. Jamie, on the other hand, was all smiles. He clung to me like a starfish all morning, finding any excuse to touch me. He was more than happy to flaunt our relationship in front of Frank now that he had the opportunity. As I did the dishes (and Jamie was supposed to be sweeping), he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and began to trail kisses down the side of my neck. I turned and playfully smacked a sud-covered hand on his cheek, leaving him half a soap beard. A small wrestling match occurred as Jamie tried to reach around me to grab some soap for his revenge, but it was soon broken up by a “dinna go wild now, ye two” from Dougal.

Later, as I started toward the car, ready to load my bag, Jamie caught up to me and snagged it from my hand.

“May I take this for ye, milady?” he asked cordially, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“I am capable of carryin’ a little duffle.”

“I ken that fine, my strong wee lass. Only I love ye verra much and wish to serve ye.”

“Well, if you put it like that…”

I handed him the duffle and smacked him on the bum as he started toward the door. He let out a whoop of surprise and jumped. Nothing was more satisfying.

Watching the whole exchange in the corner was Frank, his dark eyes hard with jealousy.

As Jamie disappeared outside with my bag, I felt compelled to approach the Englishman.

“Listen, I’m sorry if you felt I led you on. I really tried not to give you any signs I was interested, Geillis just kept shoving us together. I hope there’s no hard feelings that I’m with Jamie.”

I extended a hand to him and gave him my best apologetic smile. He looked from my hand up to my face, then back to my hand. Ignoring the proffered appendage, he shouldered past me and muttered “slut” under his breath. Then, he had disappeared from the room.

I stood rooted to the spot. Completely floored by his attitude, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to move.

Jamie returned to find me in that position, staring off at the hallway down which Frank had disappeared.

“Sassenach? What’s wrong?” He asked.

He moved closer and slid an arm around me as if sensing I needed support.

“Frank just showed me his true colors I guess,” I quietly said, still taken aback.

Jamie was instantly moving into my line of vision. “He didna try tae touch ye again, did he? I swear I’ll--”

I cut him off before he could go listing threats. “I tried to apologize to him and say no hard feelings...” I said quietly. I fixed my gaze on Jamie and furrowed my brows, “and he called me a slut.”

Jamie stiffened. I could see the rage flicker over his face before he composed it. He looked me in the eye for a moment, gauging whether I was okay. Finding me satisfactorily composed, he straightened up.

“I’ll kill him,” he said decidedly.

He began to stride with single minded purpose toward the bedrooms, his fists clenched at his sides, but I snapped out of my daze and caught his wrist to pull him back.

“It doesn’t matter, Jamie,” I said, “really, it doesn't. I couldn’t care less what Frank thinks. He was all over me all weekend without permission. I’m with you, darling. Let’s just forget about him. He can sulk all he wants on the way back, and then we never have to see him again.”

I tugged on Jamie's arm pleadingly and prayed that he’d see reason and abandon his task of pummeling Frank into oblivion in defense of my honor. After a long moment, he gave me a stiff nod. I relaxed, and Jamie followed suit, the angry set of his shoulders softening.

“No man should speak tae ye that way, but if ye ask me tae leave it be, I will,” he said softly.

He stooped down to kiss me lightly on the forehead.

When he pulled back, I caught his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Come on, let’s finish loading up. Maybe this time I’ll take your bag for you.”

If Jamie had been clingy before, he was insufferable the entire ride back. We ended up on the bench seat in the middle together, and he didn’t stop touching me the entire ride home. I knew he checked the rearview mirror to gauge Frank’s reaction behind us, but the man doggedly stared out the window, completely silent the entire time, refusing to look at us. The ride was much quieter as a whole-- everyone was tuckered out from the last few days. I separated myself from Jamie so that I could shift to the side, and then I laid my head down on his lap.

Ever so gently, his fingers began carding through my hair. He started up a delightful rhythm-- a press of fingertips into my scalp, a swirl, and then a gentle pull as he tugged carefully through my curls. Every once in a while, he would change it up, and take his whole hand to brush the lot of it away from my face. His touch was so tender and relaxing that I began to drift off.

I had nearly fallen asleep when I felt lips pressing to my temple.

“I love ye, Sassenach,” he whispered.

I tilted my head so I could smile sleepily up at him. “I love you, too.”

His hands cupped my cheeks, both thumbs stroking over them, and I opened my eyes wider.

He was looking down at me with a complicated look on his face-- a mix of love, affection, and something far more serious.

“What is it?” I asked, placing a hand over his where it cradled my face.

He gave me a smile. “Let’s tell my parents and your uncle when we get back, aye?”

I broke into a beam and nodded against his lap.

“Yes. Let’s tell them. I’ve had enough of this keeping secrets business to last a lifetime.”

***

THE END. But not really! Here’s the sequel The Deal

#there you have it folks #my first attempt in the romcom genre!#maybe it ended up being a bit more like a rom-dram but I still had fun #I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #outlander fluff #Outlander #claire x jamie #Claire/Jamie #romcom

105 notes · View notes

moosoobi · 4 years ago

Text

Revelation

In the night: Chapter 1

T.Jeffy- Hamilton: the musical

Thomas’s interest in Y/N pulls him into a position he was previously blind to. They say every girl’s another mystery, but definitely not like this. Buckle your seatbelt Tommy, you’re in for a ride

Finally finished the first part of ITN (which is ironic since the moment I wrote this message I still haven’t finished it). I really hope I’m able to bring this story to life the way I want to and I hope y’all enjoy 😔💕. Here’s some stuff to expect:

Told from Thomas’s POV

Modern Au

College talk even though I’m literally in my second year of high school (so please bear with me)

Ruh roh moments

Sorta weird POV/storytelling (I’m new to writing fics and stuff so this is definitely a learning opportunity) Also excuse my English errors: Though this is my only language, my school system seemed to fail in teaching me how to write

Word count: 6.7k (including separators)

2 DISCLAIMERS:

TW: itty bitty angst, themes of injury/blood, etc.

I’m not the best story writer, so after reading this chapter you may have many questions. Please keep in mind that this is one chapter out of (about) 10. Things that you may not understand in this chapter will most likely be explained in future chapters.

-Now Playing: In The Night by The Weeknd-

My God, she’s perfect

The way the sunlight reflects off of her glass skin. The sincerity in every word, every letter that she writes with her only pencil. To be that flawless, it’s a mystery to me. She takes a glance at me. Did she feel me staring? I duck down my head in embarrassment.

“Jefferson, you oughta put that scholarship to good use”

Professor Washington boomed to the entire class. I hear a fragment of her giggle. Her laugh is soft and naïve. I couldn't help but smile at the sound of her happiness.

Washington is right, though. It's my first semester after I came back from my student exchange program over in France and I can already feel my sanity slipping. France was a beauty to visit, so many customs and cultures I wish I could be flourished in right now.

But there was one thing great about going to school in New York: I get to sit in a classroom with Y/N L/N.

I’ve never talked to her formally, at least not yet. She’s always sitting alone, never answers any questions, but Professor Washington makes the class acknowledge her perfect test scores and fascinating interpretations

As the bell rings I watch her stand swiftly. Is she in a rush? I can't help but watch as her hair is flung over her shoulder. She stuffs her notebooks and singular pencil into her burgundy-magenta backpack. Hey, at least she has good taste in color.

I don’t think you understand

She sits alone everyday during lunch, yet she never looks bothered. Her energy is so compelling to me. A feeling about her that I cannot comprehend, something that feels greater than my existence. I just got to know.

“Thomas, you gotta work on staring at people less noticeable” James catches my attention by pointing his fork a little too close to my face.

I was staring? Again?

I shake my head to snap back to reality

“The great Thomas Jefferson is interested in someone for longer than 30 seconds. I gonna be honest with you Thom, that’s impressing”

I hear James laugh as he violently stabs a few pieces of pasta onto his fork.

James has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We went to the same middle and high school down in Virginia, and just coincidentally ended up going to the same college in New York.

We’re always there for each other. I remember cheering for him at a high school assembly after he won a story writing challenge, he’s such a nerd. Then again, he had to drive me home a couple of times after I failed multiple driving tests.

Back in high school, James was the Chess Club Champion, a title he always shoved down my throat. It’s no secret why, though. He’s really good at thinking things through, While I on the other hand tend to dive headfirst into the abyss.

“Shut it James” I sarcastically retort, taking a sip of the expensive chocolate milk which my scholarship supposedly pays for

Hey, can I sit here?

I talked to her during class. Her voice is angelic: Now, I’m not one to be religious and all, but that voice could get me on my knees praying for forgiveness. My ego couldn’t get me anywhere at all, as if she already knew my tactics, she knew my flirts, and how? I guess it just adds to her mystery.

“C'mon! that one works every time!” I whine

“Don't be so full of yourself Jefferson, I’ve heard them all before” A smile danced across her face

She did, however, laugh at some of my remarks. It's good to know that she has a sense of humor. My jokes of Professor Washington’s shiny, bald head. The jokes of Professor Washington’s assistant, John Adams, who’s suspiciously absent considering he signed up for this job.

Heck, I would even make fun of myself if it meant I got to hear that graceful laugh one more time- actually, that might be a little too far.

Many days of giggling in class came after that day. I can see her starting to open up to my friends and I, like she’s spreading her wings and showing us the greatness that lies behind the social wall that she put up years ago. Even when we got in trouble for a little too much giggling in the back of the class, I sacrificed my own pride so she didn’t have to. Yes, I, Thee Thomas Jefferson, did that.

---

Even though I could see the social wall she put up, I knew one day Y/n would fall for my charming pick up lines, or maybe I just happened to have a lucky day:

“Y/N I need some a some help with my math homework”

Y/N glances over to me in concern. I fake a scared expression.

“Quick!” I swiftly grab her shoulder and shake her “What’s your phone number?”

She playfully smacks my arm

---

Obtaining her number felt like a rite of passage, like I’m important to her, like she wants me in her life. I couldn’t stop smiling that day, and of course James just had to make a comment on it.

“Thomas, if you keep smiling like that I’m going to start thinking that your sick or something”

James said as he shut my laptop, tired of waiting for me to pack my things.

“Now that's REAL ironic coming from you, James”

I raised an eyebrow as my laugh begins to come up my throat. I take my closed laptop and shove it somewhere into my backpack.

“Okay, leaving for a month in sophomore year just because of a little fever doesn’t make ‘being sick’ as part of my trade mark”

James playfully smacked the back of my head. Thankfully, my curls serve as protection, not just to make me sinfully handsome. James and I walk out of the freezing lecture hall and were hit with the crisp-coldness of New York.

To the right of me I catch a glimpse of that eye catching burgundy-magenta backpack as it’s thrown into the trunk of a shiny, expensive car. My feet keep its motion as my head turns to see Y/N standing at the door of the car.

“Yo, is that Y/N?” I hear James whisper behind me “and who’s that?”

My attention is suddenly drawn to the tall man walking around the car to open her door. His curly hair is pulled into a small bun and the smile he had on his face broke apart the stubble on his jaw. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m just as clueless as you are”

Keeping my glance on Y/N and the man, I watch as the man opens the door for her. My stomach turns as I watch Y/N smile back at him as she sits in the car.

For a split second, I swear I saw her shoot a soft glance at me. My feet almost stop in their tracks before I feel James’ hand yank me onto another pathway.

“I’m all for you being head over heels, but we’re gonna be late to our study session with Angie”

Reality starts to set back into my head.

“Right, lets dip.”

---

“So little Tommy is Infatuated with this woman?”

Angie’s eyes are piercing, and her luscious hair frames her face in a saintly manner. She slips off her baby pink coat to ease into her library seat. Her eyebrow raises as she takes a sip of her steaming coffee

Of course James wouldn’t shut his mouth, especially around the notorious Angelica Schuyler.

Angie’s pretty popular here, I find myself wondering why she has so many connections, yet it’s not just any reason(s) why she seems to be in the spotlight.

1: She’s the oldest Schuyler. Her last name definitely got her places, not like I’m one to talk. Everyone seems to know her, not just at school, but all around New York City, and with her 5,000 Instagram followers, her first name’s starting to catch up with her last name in popularity

2: Angie’s Daddy has money money. And that’s no secret when she decides to walk around campus with her designer handbags and shoes. I tend to think she always gets what she wants, but I know deep down, she’s never gonna be satisfied. Maybe it’s just a side effect of growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth

And finally,

3: Miss Schuyler here is Bold. She’s never afraid to put both me and James in our place. It’s almost as if she can’t be touched by anyone’s thoughts of her, then again the gossip in NYC is terribly insidious. With such grace and respect, Angelica is not afraid to throw your opinion into the ground.

“Yeah I swear, Jefferson would’ve gotten run over if I didn’t pull him onto the pathway” James attempted to tone down his laugh so the librarian wouldn’t stab him with those old, sharp eyes

“She-...”

For the first time, I didn’t know how to recoil

“..Just caught me off guard.”. In an attempt to change the topic, I flipped through the pages of his textbook.

Angelica and James shared an astonished glance at Thomas before looking at each other. I could hear James shrug and flipping open his textbook. I lift my head as I hear Angelica dig through her bag

“Alright let’s get started” Angie claps her hands together with determination

—-

It’s been 2 hours of studying in the ghostly library. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid the talk forever.

“Hey Thomas, why don’t you invite her to our next study session?”

Angelica smirked as she rudely shut my laptop. I desperately imagine the day where both James and Angelica leave me alone. I angrily glare up at her, but she has a good idea

“Actually, that’s not to bad of an idea” I ponder for a moment before retrieving my phone from my pocket

Thomas: Hey Y/N, u free this week?

Hmm. Is this okay? Nah it’s too straight forward. I sigh as I deleted and retyped the message

Thomas: Greetings Ms. L/N, this is Mr. Jefferson from class. Would you delight me by partaking in a study session?

What the heck Jefferson? I began to get frustrated from this nonsense. It’s just a text, why am I getting so anal over it?

Thomas: Hey Y/N, ds@insdas/19z7dnesdc-

Angelica, who was watching me the entire time, snatched the phone from my hands. I attempted to protest, yet Angelica Schuyler knows how to hold her ground.

“Angie wh-”

“I’ll do you a favor, Jefferson.” She said sternly. There was no way I was getting that phone back, heck, I would be lucky if I got it back in one piece

“Aaaaand sent!” I heard her squeal

Angelica suddenly tossed the phone to me and I fumbled it between my hands before I held it stably. I check to see the text that Angelica sent from my phone

Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?

Oh. It was that easy.

“Thanks Angie”

I shove my phone back in my pocket. Part of me was excited to have an excuse to text Y/N, yet I do wonder how awkward it would be if she rejected the offer. I mean, she already has the perfect grades, why would she need the extra help?

I start to rethink my decision.

—-

It wasn’t until 11 pm at night until I got a reply from Y/N. Beforehand, I arrived at my apartment around 8 pm. As soon as my door shut, the room was filled with growls indicating my current problem: hunger. That could only be solved with one solution: microwavable mac and cheese.

My phone dinged while I was laying motionless on my bed. My apartment was right next to the street, and all I could hear was the busy streets of New York City.

My eyes opened as I turned to my charging phone.

Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way

I was filled with joy, so much that I couldn’t wait another second to reply.

Thomas: Alright, we meet at the library after our class. Can you make it?

Seeing the three dots jump melodically made my stomach feel as if two fairies were dancing throughout my body. Any second now, any second. ding!

Y/N: sounds good!

I guess it’s settled, I get to hang out with the puzzling Y/N L/N, and maybe I’ll get to learn a bit more about her. But just because it’s a study session doesn’t mean I can’t show her what a southern gentleman looks like, and for the first time, I’m so excited to study

---

James, Y/N, and I walk out of professor Washington’s class, laughing our asses off over some stupid joke. Everyone around us appears to be annoyed, especially with having to sit through almost two hours of my friends and I laughing in the back of the class, but it’s not like I care.

Once we’re hit by the bitter cold of New York, my eyes are immediately drawn to that expensive car. So familiar and so faint in head, the memory of Y/N smiling as she hopped into his car replays in my brain.

“I’ll be back guys”

Y/N excuses herself from the group before lightly jogging to the car. Her hair was graceful in the wind, and her burgundy-magenta backpack didn’t seem to weigh her down at all. For a split second, my brain acknowledges that mysterious man in the driver’s seat. There was a moment of awkward eye contact with him, his cold eyes pierced through me before my attention was drawn back to Y/N. She fixes her hair and jacket.

That was cute.

What?

James and I watch Y/N before turning to each other. I suggest to James that we wait for her, show a little southern hospitality. Even though Y/N seems to be fond of this man, he gives off a mysterious vibe similar to Y/N’s, but I do not want to unravel that mystery at all.

Seeing him throw a smirk at Y/N causes discomfort in my stomach.

Y/N comes prancing back to us, an embarrassed smile on her face. Behind her, that shiny, expensive car begins to drive away.

“My bad, I forgot to tell my roommate that I would be out late”

“That’s your roommate?” James asks, attempting to hide his curiosity and shock

“and he takes you home after class?” I interrupt briefly

Y/N nervously laughs before nodding “something like that, he just..”

That pause was a little too long

“..doesn’t like me out of the house too late so he volunteers to drive me home all the time”

I shrug it off before jumping at the feeling of James’ warm hands pulling Y/N and I to the direction of the library. Y/N and I look at him with confusion

“What? Angie doesn’t like when we’re late, remember?” James says, practically dragging us to the Library

—-

“Nice to meet you”

Angelica and Y/N got along pretty well. I can tell Angie was happy to finally have a girl to hangout with rather than having to deal with me and James only. She’s already starting to resemble a sisterly figure to Y/N, then again, growing up with two sisters must’ve prepared Angie for this moment.

I don’t hear much about the other Schuylers, but I am familiar with them. Angelica is the oldest, as we know. Her first sister, Eliza Sch- I’m pretty sure she got married, is the nicest person you’ll meet. Whoever won her surely must be worthy, because we all know people like me wouldn’t get anywhere near Eliza thanks to her older sister. Her youngest sister, Margarita Peggy Schuyler, is just like Angelica.

Stubborn. As. Fuck.

I’m confident that Angelica has taught her that philosophy since she was born. Anyway, Peggy is currently living her dreams in Southern California. Not sure what she does, but I’m sure she’s financially stable, she is a Schuyler after all.

All of us struggle to not annoy the librarian, let alone the entire library. I watch as Y/N opens up, just a little more, to Angelica, James, and I.

Hours pass as we clown around in the library. From actually completing class work to a small drawing competition between James and I, I was certainly having a good time, and so was everyone else.

It was pleasing to see Y/N more laid back rather than how she acts in class. In front of Professor Washington she’s so ‘put together’ and organized, but surrounded by her friends she’s such an amazing person, her range in professionalism and humor is astounding.

I can’t seem to ignore the fact that Angelica notices the way I look at Y/N. It’s definitely not in my strong suit to be ‘low key’, I’m known for dramatic entrances and stealing the spotlight. She smiles when I make eye contact with her, and I’m pretty sure it’s just her way of annoying me, but I can’t help the way I look at Y/N. She really is an angel sent down from heaven, disguised as a college student, and I’m just lucky enough to be her friend.

I’m blind to her flaws. When I see her, I feel like a tourist glancing at the Mona Lisa, memorizing every curve of her face, the way her hair falls around her shoulders, and the way the library lighting reflects off of her glowing skin.

What felt like a sledgehammer breaking a slab of fragile glass, I see Y/N’s phone light up. Even across the table I can read the word “Lafayette” off of her phone. I can’t lie, it surely sounds familiar.

When she finally noticed her phone flash on, I feel her ease turn into worry, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by James, Angie, and I. She starts to pack away her books

“My bad guys, I really gotta go”

Y/N said notably panicking. Her phone flashes once again, yet the only thing that seems to catch my eyes is the bold “7:30” spread across the top of her phone.

“Are you okay by yourself?” I asked, trying my best not to pry into her business

“Yeah, my roommates here to pick me up, I don’t want to make him wait” she tried to play it off, but I’m learning to see right through her

“Alright, see you next time Y/N” I shrug it off

She sends my friends and I a quick smile before replying

“for sure”

Angelica and James got back to work without saying a word, and I could tell they were waiting until she was gone to start teasing me. I eased back into my chair before flipping the pages of my notebook

I watched as she shoved open the library door and disappeared into the darkness. She’s such a mystery, when I feel like she’s opening up, she just shuts the door and we’re back at square one. Though I do claim to love a good challenge, Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

—-

And that’s when it started. It wasn’t just one time where 7:30 was Y/N magic number, oh no, it was oddly consistent. I’m convinced that Y/N is some variation of Cinderella; her polite attitude and the beautiful little things she does without acknowledging it all vanish when the clock strikes 8:00, but that’s just one of many theories made by James.

Another study session with James and Angelica, and Y/N’s flashing screen still compelled Y/N to leave the library without a trace. On some occasions we don’t even notice her escape, we just turn to see her seat empty and feel the faint wind from outside as the library door slowly closes.

One day Angie bought us all tickets to see the preview to the newest, scariest movie I’ve ever watched. I was accompanied by Y/N, James, and Angie, yet their presences made it worse. Halfway through the bucket of popcorn and the movie, Y/N suddenly stood up and left after saying those 5 words. Before she left, I felt the warmth of her hands leave the place on my arm.

I never knew how addicting her warmth would be until it was already gone.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go” The weak smile on her face instantly resonated feelings of sympathy and understanding.

From then on, Y/N and I grew closer as friends. We’d fool around at a local park before heading to campus, obviously sparking a few observations and remarks from James. I’d invite her to fancy dinners, or maybe even a small festival down the road from my apartment, yet her response would always be proven false at the moment she’d leave me and my thoughts at 7:30.

But that hasn’t stopped me from attempting to hang out with her. Even on the days I wouldn’t have class with her we’d go out and get ice cream, study at the park, I guess you can say we’ve gone on a few ‘dates’ since our initial study session.

Whenever we’re apart, I can feel every second expanding to its maximum capacity of time. I wouldn’t see her for a day and it will already feel like years since I’ve seen her. The days I do see her, time seems to maneuver a little too fast. When I recall hanging out with Y/N, all I can imagine is the feeling of floating above the clouds every time she and I made physical contact. Like a rock being dropped into still water, ever touch ripples throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine.

Truly incredible.

—-

She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, and I find that quite odd. I’m usually one to continue rambling every detail of every trait of mine, yet I find myself yearning to learn more about her.

We text every now and then when we’re outside of class, a little more to be considered ‘just friends’. There’s always a story which unravels just a little more of Y/N’s past, and she’s left me on my own to connect the dots. I must say, she’s definitely an interesting gal, but I know there’s more to discover.

She’s a native New Yorker, born and raised, surviving by splitting an intense rent with her mysterious room mate. Y/N doesn’t talk much of her family, other than faint memories of her mother single handedly raising her and her little brother, who I’m fairly unaware of.

Going into college undecided, Y/N describes her want to learn more about herself before she’s able to make any life determining choices. I’ve noticed that her schedule seems like a labyrinth avoiding life problems and obstacles, so perhaps being placed in the same class coincidentally was just fate playing its part.

Y/N loves to explain her dream for workless weekends, moments in the week where she just gets to sit back, close her eyes, and breathe a little. With finals starting to appear from thin air, I can’t blame her for a dream so far from reality.

Even with the knowledge I hold of her, something never seems to change: her disappearances at 7:30.

It’s always that damn 7:30.

7:30--the cliffhanger your favorite show leaves you desiring for more

the end of a fun night of laughter and glee, wishing it lasted just a little longer

the off-set energy in a room when those around you know something you don’t.

As days, weeks, and months pass since my first text proposal to hang out at the library, Y/N and I become a little closer than just friends. It’s been obvious, especially to James and Angie, that Y/N is more than capable of holding my attention.

Though James is worried that Y/N will just become ‘another girl’ to me, concerning my tomcat nature in the past, he can see the potential I see in her. I find myself wishing I did spend more time with her, maybe I just need to make a better effort.

I’ll prove James and Angie wrong.

Filled with determination and confidence, in the midst of my silent room, I whip out my phone and direct my attention towards forming a text message for Y/N

Thomas: let’s get coffee sometime?

Jefferson charm, don’t fail me now.

---

Before I knew it, Y/N and I were feasting on exotic cheeses and aged wine in my New York apartment. I hit play on a random romcom which helps to fill the emptiness in my apartment and ironically the thin space between Y/N and I.

I have no idea how to make my move. Though I’m not aware of my competition, I imagine if Y/N could attract someone of My caliber, I should be well aware of the things she’s capable of. Originally I planned to court her-- I know, I know, I’m a man of tradition--yet after James caught on to my recognizable frustration, He suggested I go for it.

This is surprising on multiple occasions, especially since James possesses the ‘brains’ between the both of us. Being the chess club champion, ‘talk’ won’t aid you when you're struggling in a chess match. Just like how he meticulously plays chess, he examines my situation and provides his Virginian insight, or so he prefers to call it, and they always proceed the way his scheme describes.

I’ve adhered his advice to my life ever since we were kids, and when I didn’t, he’d simply reply with:

“I told you so”

His smug smirk accompanied with a finger pointing to his temple would soon transform from clever to annoying.

I feel a vibration come from my pocket. Well, of course it’s not Y/N texting so must I really answer it? I pull out my phone despite my doubts and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

James: 👍

Speak of the Devil.

But enough about James. I understand that both Y/N and I are mature college students, yet I still fear the disruption in our friendship I can provoke just by making my move. I’ve gotten this far; If she wasn’t interesting I’m sure she would’ve rejected me sooner.

She’s different, she’s unique, something about her that I just can’t place, but also something missing. Anyway, this is probably my best chance at shooting my shot at Y/N, and it’s too late now to back down.

As my lips part in an attempt to speak and make a move, Y/N’s motionless phone (currently laying undisturbed on my coffee table) suddenly brightens with the most obnoxious ringtone I’ve ever heard. The words “It’s 7:30!” flash on her screen, almost as if it was warning her rather than reminding her.

“Y/N—” my eyes follow her body as she swiftly stands up

“I gotta g—” I watch as she attempts to grab her purse, yet her body is limited when I firmly grab her arm. She looks back to me with tiredness in her eyes.

Part of me thought maybe, just maybe, Cinderella here wouldn’t have a curfew. That I somehow would be the exemption to this consistent confusion . But you can only daydream so far into the day until you’re pulled back into your reality

Her entire demeanor seems like it was reconstructed after her alarm went off. Moments ago she was just enjoying tasty cheese and cheesy movies, and the worst part is, I have no idea why.

“Let me speak, darlin’”

I stand up to avoid the way her eyes look down on me. I can’t stand that pitiful glare; she looks at me as if I’m a child incapable of understanding her situation, but she’s too stubborn to let me know. I’d be wise to use this time to make a move on different circumstances.

“Now, you’re always leaving at seven thirty..”

Her sigh is almost enough to interrupt me

“..why’s that? Talk to me.”

I maintain my eye contact before it’s abruptly broken. She looks everywhere but my eyes, and I wonder where in my apartment she would find an excuse, yet still manages to dodge the question.

“..you wouldn’t understand..” she scoffs almost intentionally, honestly scratching a part of my ego. I hate to admit she’s right, I really don’t understand what’s going on.

I cock my head to the side. Where’s this coming from?

“Darlin’, I’m sure I’m a very understanding person—”

“—I need to leave”

I could tell by the look of her face that she wasn’t trying to argue, but it’s inevitable.

“Why can’t you just tell me?..” I put my hands up as a sign of defeat, but I’m not giving up yet. “We’ve been friends for a while and you’re always leavin’ at seven—”

“I know! I know..” she removes my hand from her arm, clearly refusing to look up at me.

“Let’s just say..I got a job..?”

Oh. That’s what this is all about? A job? She couldn’t spare at least an explanation for a part time gig?

“See? That wasn’t so hard”

“It’s..really embarrassing..” The glance she takes around the room makes me wonder if she’s really telling the truth. it’s not really my place to speculate, there’s no going back from this.

“It’s alright, it’s just a job after all” I claim, trying to get this conversation back on track

“This is exactly what I meant but ‘you wouldn’t understand’”

Huh?

“You don’t know what it feels like to have your life rely on minimum wage—” she sounds like she’s holding something back.

“Y/N wher—”

“A-and here you are makin’ me late for work” her eyes appear on the verge of crying.

“darlin’ look..”

“God, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life!”

Silence.

Both of us refuse to speak. Y/N phone, still on the table, chimes again. “7:35” it said on its bright screen.

“Is that really how you feel?..” I take a step back to give her space. She still refuses to look at me.

There’s no way she’d cause all this chaos just because of a job. And even if she believes I’ve piggy backed off of my name for my entire life, why would it matter to her?

“I..I should leave” before I could process what just happened, she swiftly tosses her phone into her bag and heads for the door.

“Y’know, I had a nice time..” was all I heard before the harsh shutting of my apartment door.

And that was the end of it.

My first thought after the door shut wasn’t to whip out my phone and attempt to text her, it certainly wasn’t to call James and inform him of his miscalculation, but instead to attend to the matter at hand. This cheese and wine won’t clean itself.

And the night continued normally, as if nothing had ever taken place. I couldn’t help but microwave another cup of Mac and cheese to cope with what Y/N said. Nothin’ like a good meal to divert your attention away from your problems. But even a good cup of cheese and pasta can’t stop me from thinking’:

Is that all I am to her?

A southern snob incapable of functioning without their father’s last name?

After an introspective shower, and a few episodes of a random Netflix show, I’m finally alone with my thoughts and feelings. I lie in darkness, tussling and turning at every occasion, unable to extract her words from my mind.

If there’s someone whose opinion I care about the most, it’s Y/N L/N. I consider texting her at this very moment, yet I’m sure that I’m the last person she wants to talk to. The weight of my actions falls heavily onto my shoulders every minute, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Give her space, Jefferson, and maybe you’ll be able to fix this tragedy.

---

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knocks on my apartment door were enough to jerk my body back to consciousness. Sadly pulled from the warmth of my dreams, I’m hit with the cold, noisy reality of an average night here in New York.

Can my day get any worse?

Coming straight from the depths of slumber, I take a few minutes to process reality. Maybe the knocks were in my head. Did I dream about someone knocking on my door? Perhaps it’s

The sun’s still not up yet, why am I?

Groggily sitting up, I decide to check the time, yet it takes me multiple attempts to grab my phone in the dark before I catch a sight of the time.

2 am?!

Who is so out of their minds so show up to my apartment at this time? Who do I know that would show up at this time?

James is too sensible for that,

Angie would never waste her time on me, for whatever reason,

And Y/N—

well.

I don’t know our circumstances right now.

I debate whether or not I should answer the door. Perhaps it’s just rock that happened to hit the door of my apartment, and even if it is a person, I’m not aware of anyone so mad to show up in the middle of the night. it’s not worth my time.

...

Knock! Knock! Knock!

So much for ‘Not worth my time’. A groan is all my body can respond with while I gradually stand from the comfort of my bed. I grab the nearest shirt, which was draped over my desk chair, and scramble to put it on. Passing my cramped kitchen, my hands subconsciously flip on the nearest light switches, while my eyes struggle to comprehend the sudden light.

Before I reach the door, I couldn’t help but attempt to fix my hair. Just because someone happens to show up outside unannounced doesn’t mean I can’t present my best rendition of a southern gentleman.

And finally, through my fatigue and irritation, I’m finally urged to grab the doorknob and twist it open in one motion.

“Uh, it’s two a.m. so I hope--”

I nervously scratch the back of my head, attempting to add spice to this awkward encounter. It wasn’t until my eyes caught sight of the blood dripping down her glass skin and the meeting of our eyes did I have any words

“Y/N?!?”

Her cold, pale, and hurt body would’ve hit the concrete floor if I had answered the door any later.

---

And there she layed half colorless on my bed. Her smile was full of embarrassment and gratitude as I sat beside her, tending to the evident cuts and Injured areas of her body. “I hope I’m being a great house guest” she joked, causing her to laugh, yet hurting herself in the process.

“Hey, Hey, Take it easy..” Y/N’s presence usually fills me with carefreeness, or perhaps stability, but for the first time I can’t help but react seriously. Her demeanor changed as she saw my retaliation to her joke.

“I guess…” she looked down to her fragile body, a sigh released, seeming to be an attempt to calm down. “...I owe you an explanation for earlier. And especially for showing up at your place at 2 in the damn morning. ”

Thomas’ hands, full of wipes and hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls, froze in their tracks before he looked up at her, eager to listen and visibly confused. Y/N visibly winced as the cotton balls stuck to her cuts for longer than they should’ve, yet with Thomas’ reflexes at their all-time-max, he pulled them away with a worried expression.

“Explanation? You said you got a job, and I’m sorry for not respecting it..” I continued to clean her up, consensually of course, how could I call myself a gentleman if I were to act upon improper motives?

“Again..” I utter quietly “..I didn’t know you felt that way, and I’m ashamed you feel that way”

I attach an ivory-colored band aid to her glass skin, careful not to damage it any further. I look up to her watching, pitiful eyes. “You were saying?” I reciprocate the attention to her, awaiting a so-called answer to come out of her mouth

“I didn’t know where else to run to..” she attempted to sit up, lifting her weight off of my satin-covered sheets, yet quickly stopped when being hit with a wave of pain from her right shoulder

Though my first thought would’ve been ‘Damn it, my darn sheets are ruined’, it was quickly drawn to Y/N and her current problem

“Y’know, I think an apology and explanation can wait, Y/N. you need a little sleep, it’s already three in the mornin’ for god’s sake” a small laugh erupts from her

I sent her an assuring smile, trying to remind her that everything is always going to be okay in a Jefferson household. And surprisingly I received a smile in return, a smile of trust and security that I’ve never felt so glad to see. Of course, I wish I could’ve seen that smile under different circumstances, but I’ll work with what I got.

I stood from my beautiful satin sheets and reached for a hoodie on my swivel chair. (everything but your closet is a closet, change my mind) I braced for a cold night on my apartment couch while Y/N enjoys the warmth of my bed, but Y/N had other plans.

“Wait- Thomas.” She said firmly

I turned tiredly to her direction, my arm already extended for the door, yet frozen in place as I awaited a response

“Can you just..” she scoot herself over, as much as possible with her frail body “..hold me?” She watches me anxiously

“I mean— you don’t have to b—” I didn’t hesitate at all to gently slide under the sheets of the bed. As soon as I turn to her direction, I can’t help but feel scared to touch her in fear of hurting her; my hands don’t know where to reside. “Where do I..” I’m truly perplexed

She giggled at my confusion and shyly grabbed my hand “I’m not so fragile you know”

She brought my hand up to the side of her head, and all I could process was the texture of the bandages under my fingertips. I don’t know what's going on, but I couldn’t just leave her out there.

“..Right..” I wait for her eyes to close before I can even think about closing mine, and soon the texture of the bandages seem to melt onto my fingertips as I’m finally able to return to my slumber.

“See you in the mornin’..”

---

I didn’t wake up until I felt the sun rays kissing my back through my so-called ‘blackout curtains’. Such a scam. The room seemed a little too quiet; I gently turned onto my other side just to find an empty bed. I consider the possibility of last night’s encounter with Y/N was all just some messed up dream, but when I saw the faint stains of blood on my sheets, I knew I was far from dreaming.

My body doesn’t want to move, and I’m stuck sitting up in my bed for another ten minutes. What the heck is going on? One minute she yells at me, then next thing I know she’s outside my apartment at 2 am.

And that explanation.

I guess I was such a fool to think she wouldn’t continue to run away from this matter. My thoughts are interrupted by my buzzing phone. I know for sure that it’s not Y/N hittin up my phone right about now.

James: Let’s try that new coffee place a few blocks from your apartment?

He really read my mind, or maybe it’s a response made from calculating my failure yesterday. But a distraction sounds tremendous.

Thomas: bet.

I throw on a cleaner, more professional jacket, if such a thing exists, and swiftly get my feet out the door. Everything seems the same, as if nothing had taken place last night. The world still spins and I’m expected to spin with it.

I don’t think I’m anywhere near capable of unraveling your mystery.

Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

#thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #thomas x reader #alexander hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamiltonau #Angelica Schuyler #james madison #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette x reader #lafayette #george washington #washington #John Laurens #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson x reader

83 notes · View notes