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marahuyos · 2 years ago

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The Take over, the Breaks Over

The island gave you plenty of opportunities to pick yourself back up: a paying job, a decent apartment, nice landlord, and not to mention how many people are looking towards making music ever since the new ambassador of Vandelay Industries was a rockstar.

That is, if you were still allowed to perform.

And so, you were left trying to light that spark in you again by performing in clubs. Not the best place to start but hey, at least they let you be on the stage.

You were happy to play in front of a crowd that barely appreciates you, so why does this brunette with a running mouth is trying to pry into your life?

Chai (Hi-Fi RUSH) X GN!Reader

A/N: IM BACK WITH MY NEW HYPERFIXATION SKSSKKSKS this game has truly been in my brain ever since it got secretly launched and I've wanted to take a jab and write for this since Chai has checked all of my criteria for my old childhood crush tropes (brunette, dork, and a loser: is2g this is like my addiction towards hiccup back when httyd released askdjakdjas)

anywayyy, hope you guys enjoy this hastily written fic! i wont drop it like how i dropped start of a new fool swear skkssdklfdsjk

The coffee machine's beat was always colored brown.

Not the ugly type of brown, it's the brown that you would see when peering over a mug of steaming hot espresso. Or it could be the gradient of a cafe americano with the ice clinking gently against the cup. Or it could be the famous chocolate almond donut that the cafe sells that the people who love to be active on their social media take pictures of.

To you, though, it was just the machine's way of saying that it was just another day.

Presenting a baggie of cookies, you gave them to the next techie that needed her sugar high. With a polite smile, you waved her goodbye as she left the cafe, humming the same song the radio was playing.

Her voice was spicy even though she was humming, with ranges of orange and red. Hard to believe someone with colors like that would love sugary treats.

A call of your name shook you out of your little reverie. A droid coworker waved behind the counter. "Is number 34 ready yet?"

You nodded, getting the packaged cake and wrapping it in its delivery box before giving it to J4R-D1. Raising your hands, you presented the instructions to him as the drone groaned.

"Seriously, why am I stuck with delivering and managing Madeleine's crummy party for the fifth time this week?"

You shrugged, giving him a hapless smile as you patted his shoulder.

He rolled his optics, getting the box and left but not before stopping at the door. "Oh yeah, your friend down south wants you to be there earlier than usual. Something about meeting important clientele or something."

You nodded waving him goodbye and a safe trip (and good luck) before setting aside your apron and timing out your shift. With your work "uniform" gone, you grabbed your case from underneath the counter and jumped across it.

"That time already?" Your boss called out from the kitchen. You nodded at him before waving goodbye with a hopeful smile.

"Knock 'em dead, kid! They won't know what hit 'em!" With his praise, you ventured outside jumping up in the air with glee as you hurried to your other job.

That is, until the tempo was stopped drastically by someone.

Seething from your tumble, you gasped when you crashed against an actual human being who is currently groaning on the floor. Panicking, you hurriedly stood up and helped them back onto their feet. With an apologetic smile, you quickly showed your apologies by rubbing your fist over your heart and dusting off any dust on his clothes. You took notice of the brightly colored fit he has; red scarf, yellow jacket, and an obnoxious shirt before running off. You hoped he would come back soon so you can give him an apology donut but that doesn't matter right now.

Your fingers were twitching to play the strings once more. And with a jump (with no random passersby), your mechanical feet turned into roller skates as you skated down the road. The tempo came back with full force.

Having already known the route, you breeze past the people on the already busy street. Skillfully weaving across throngs of human and metal bodies, you skated across the road before hopping onto the sidewalk when the traffic light turned green. Reaffirming your grip on your case, you picked up speed, tactfully dodging the strangers going about their day as the bright sun shines down upon you. You got the occasional 'Watch it!' or 'Hey!" from the people who were too close for comfort but that didn't stop your flow.

Jumping into the air, you landed on a railing, skidding across the metal as sparks flew from your skates. You made sure that no one was close to the railing before jumping off and skidding to a stop in front of an unassuming building.

This was your other job.

(Well, more like a passion since you aren't getting any pay out of this.)

Returning your feet to normal, you stepped inside the building and the tone drastically changed. When the rhythm outside was upbeat and sunny, the inside was a slow but reverberating rhythm with cool notes and generally something you wouldn't associate yourself with. After all, an afternoon nightclub wasn't a place anyone can truly shine.

Alas, this was where you get to perform once more.

Before you could slink past the crowd, you were stopped by a cold voice accompanied by an equally icy color. "You're late."

Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you slowly turned around to see a tall man tower over you. His red, pomade-covered hair slightly covered his face with one strand of hair dyed in bright orange as it twirled in front of his forehead. His ice blue eyes bore into your own as a disappointed frown was etched on his face.

"You know how important this is." He stated, his crimson coat billowing behind him as he grabbed a lint roller from his inside pocket. With a roll of your eyes, you let him pick up any stray lint, crumb, or coffee ground as he continued to lecture you about your tardiness.

The man named Sazerac was someone who put up a cold front but he was the only one who truly believed in you.

"Don't give me that look." He chastised you, bringing your chin to meet his face. "You're lucky that they're willing to stay on the island for a few more days. You should be grateful that I pulled enough strings to keep 'em here."

You sighed through your nose, wanting his fussing to be over with. With a content huff, Sazerac backed off from your space, giving one last fix on your clothes. He gave you a heated glare on your attitude.

"I brought you here on this stage to perform again," he started, eyeing you dangerously, "and I can easily take it back."

Biting your lip, you fixed your posture; back ramrod straight, shoulders pulled back, and chin held high. He gave a content hum as he lifted his hand to tap the metal protruding from your neck, making you flinch.

"Don't disappoint."

Nodding, you slipped towards the backstage, flashing your ID card to the bouncer droid as he nodded at you. Passing by random staff and performers, you went towards center stage, behind the curtains that were waiting to rise. The base of the club calmed down, leaving you to open your case to reveal your most prized possession.

The beat came back once more. It's tempo both calming you down and pumping up your heart at the same time. As you adjusted the strings, you held its neck as your faithful bow was twirled across your hand. As your foot tapped with the rhythm, you took in a deep breath before shakily exhaling out.

As the announcer stated your name, you placed your bow on the neck. 'It's time once more for me to shine.'

The Struts

"Fallin' With Me"

Fallin' With Me Single

"Whoa," the brunette breathed out, staring in awe at the opulence of the club, "I never knew the island had places like these around!"

"No one really wants to go to these places except for the people who don't work the 9 to 5." Peppermint explained through 808. "Which makes it all the more suspicious for a regular barista to come here."

Chai slinked past some snooty couple, him coughing inside his scarf from their overpowering perfume. Seriously, what was up with rich people and their aerosol perfumes? "Maybe they got a gig here? They were holding a huge case, remember?"

"... Yeah. A gig in an afternoon nightclub." Chai doesn't even need to see Peppermint's infamous dry stare. "Like that's a likely story–"

You be my Alice

And I'll be your Mad Hatter

We can live in a palace

Nothing too amateur

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' for me?

Before the both of them could bicker more, the curtains were drawn back. The spotlights centered upon a figure on the stage and what Chai first saw was the beautiful electric cello that seemed to gleam from the attention it was getting. The silver finish of the instrument was something Chai couldn't help but gawk at until 808 nudged his cheek to focus on the person holding it.

"Heh, what do you know!" He said with smug pride. "Our guy's up on that stage!"

In 808, he could barely make out Peppermint's concealed groan. "I'm not gonna bother to try and argue. Just figure out a way to get them off the stage!"

Show me your talents

I'll throw them back at ya

No matter what happens

I'll keep up the temperature

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' for me? (Woo!)

Rolling his eyes, Chai grumbled under his breath but he ran towards the stage nonetheless. This part of the nightclub had the seats set in a way that its seats surrounded the stage. A multitude of people filled up the seats; the majority of them were wearing expensive cybernetics and clothing that Chai couldn’t help but remember Mimosa fitting in nicely with them. Although, he doubts she would’ve let the person onstage play their tune.

Speaking of them, Chai couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them from time to time. 808 had to paw him back to reality each time he had to stop and gawk. It wasn’t like him to be starstruck but it was hard to ignore how the guy is absolutely killing the song. He didn’t think that cellos were capable of doing rock but he was proven wrong when they were practically dancing with the cello. Each beat was perfectly enunciated by their shoulders bopping and the near-sensual rhythm was complemented with their perfectly executed dance choreography. If Chai didn’t know any better, they were practically born to perform on stage.

“Sucks to beat this guy up.” He remarks to 808. “Would’ve loved to get to know ‘em more.”

“Hey!” A voice called out and Chai noted to himself that he was spotted later than usual. “Losers aren’t supposed to be here!”

Chai glared at the offender, a waiter droid who held a tray of fancy drinks. “Hey, I may be a loser but I’m the Ambassador of Vandelay Technologies so what does that make you?!”

Before he realized what he just said, his entire team screamed into his ear. “Chai!!!”

Yes or no?

Let's go! (Yeah)

“You?!” The droid exclaimed before throwing the tray away, the drinks spilling on unsuspecting customers as they screamed the prices of their clothes. “Rattle ‘em, boys!”

With a groan, Chai readied his weapon. Heaps of scrap metal clinging together to form his signature guitar as 808 turned into their ball form. More droids started rushing in, some of them toppling over the seats as the customers screamed brands that Chai didn’t care for. Bouncer droids made up most of the enemies as waiter droids made up for their unassuming appearance by smashing expensive bottles into the ground and raising its jagged edges at Chai.

With a smirk, Chai rushed forward, feet stomping in tune with the beat as he felt the rush go through his central power unit. No, more than that. When he smacked a waiter droid away, he looked up on stage to still see the person perform despite the chaos. They were still playing on beat and Chai realized that each blow he dealt, the guy’s bow also played alongside him.

Almost as if they were in sync with one another.

A bouncer droid smacked him away from his internal monologue, his body flying across the club before crashing at the bar. Bottles of expensive alcohol were destroyed as the fluids covered Chai from head to toe. As if that wasn’t the end of it, the shelf holding the bottles tilted down, the bottles sliding down and hitting Chai multiple times, each bonk more painful than the last.

You're coming with me

Let's take a dive

Meet at the rainbow

9:45

Wear something trashy

That's what I like (yeah)

We're on the rooftop

Jumpin' off the sides (jumpin' off the sides)

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' (are you?), fallin' with me?

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

With a groan, Chai clambered on the countertop, dizzy from being hit more than he wanted and the reeking stench of alcohol in his clothes. “Our guy is still playing up there!”

“Good. Makes it all the more easy for us.” Peppermint stated.

“Us?!” Chai exclaimed, standing back up to his full height. “You guys aren’t even here!”

“Well, you haven’t called us in now, have you?” Peppermint retorted and Chai can practically hear her smirk.

With one large groan, he relented and called in Macaron to deal with the bouncer droids. “I got this Chai! Go get them!”

Jumping onto Macaron’s hand, the large man threw him back towards the stage, this time Chai stuck the landing. He was on stage this time, with the guy still playing the cello. He can’t help but be impressed by the guy.

He willed his hand to turn off the magnetism, the guitar falling apart as he tucked away the baton. 808 flew to his ear, and from the mint color, he knew that Peppermint was ready to rip him a new one. “Chai, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Relax, Peppermint.” He said, walking up to them in an easygoing way. “I’m gonna go talk to them. From one performer to another. They’ll listen!”

“Mister Chai. It seems you have forgotten the first time you tried to ‘talk’!” CNMN interjected. “It was how we first met, after all!”

“Relax! This is gonna be different!” He eased them, hands raising in a non-threatening way. “I can see it in their movement. They move to the beat just like me!”

Ignoring Macaron’s prayers, he finally stood in front of the guy. Their eyes were closed, entirely focusing on playing the cello as Chai took a moment to watch them perform. They were truly in their element, no movement a waste as their fingers danced across the neck.

“Hi! I’m Chai, Ambassador of Vandelay Technologies but you kinda knew that already.” He said, clasping his hands behind his head. “I gotta say, from one performer to another, you really know how to command the stage!”

He was deftly ignored, the cello’s low notes greeting his ears as he grimaced. “Okay… So, I got a little itty-bitty mission that I gotta do in the name of Vandelay. Nothing against you as a performer! Like, you’re super good with that already! But it’s also super important that you come along with me--”

And he heard it. It wasn’t unlike anything he’s heard of. He couldn’t even call it a voice-it was more like notes coming together to form a cohesive sentence.

‘You want to shut your goddamn mouth?’

The evil is landing through the roof on your tablе top

Let's eat up some damagе (woo!)

There goes my trail of thought

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' with me? (Are you fallin' with me, babe?)

He whipped his head around, 808 avoiding his rapid motions. “Wh-Who said that?!”

808 flew to his field of vision. “Chai, what the hell are you doing?”

Behind the cat, the person finally opened his eyes. They were staring at Chai with unabashed shock but they still haven’t ceased their performance. He blinked rapidly, a hand raising to remove some earwax as Chai wiped his fingers.

And he heard it again. ‘What the hell is wrong with this guy?’

There was no denying it this time. “You’re saying those things?!”

The next note was noticeably sharper as they gasped. “What the fu--”

“That’s.” Chai started, pointing his finger at them. “So. Cool! Like, I can hear you talk through your cello! How freaky is that?!”

He danced across the stage as if he won the lottery because of that revelation. The guy was still playing but it was noticeably more slowed down as they stared at Chai. “How-this isn’t even possible. I’m playing the notes to the song--”

“But I can still understand you!” Chai exclaimed, running up to them and appraising them like they were made out of diamonds. “Man, this is so crazy! It’s like we got this special connection that lets us talk to one ano--”

“No, don’t finish that sentence.” They played with fear. “I don’t wanna think about that.”

Their face soon turned into worry, glancing at a space behind Chai as he noticed their hands tensing against their cello. He turned around, spotting a man in striking red surrounded by more rich people. Before he could say something, they adjusted their grip as they strummed their bow against the strings. Before he knew it, a force pushed him back from the stage, Chai crashing down on the seats as he sat up in shock.

They jumped from the stage, landing gracefully in front of Chai as their feet turned into wheels. Energy was pumping through their cello and Chai could feel the vibrations through his chest as he scurried to stand up. They glared at Chai, bow poised at the neck, ready to blast another attack.

“Well, I guess negotiations are off the table.” He noted, getting his guitar back as he readied his stance.

Yes or no?

Let's go! (Yeah)

You're coming with me

Let's take a dive (dive)

Meet at the rainbow

9:45 (five)

Wear something trashy (woo!)

That's what I like (yeah)

We're on the rooftop

Jumpin' off the sides (sides)

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' for me?

They skated across the area, confusing Chai as his eyes tried to keep up. Hearing the next beat, he raised his guitar to block a sound wave and parried it back towards them. They staggered back and Chai took the opportunity to grapple towards them and strike them with his guitar. He had a few good hits in before they played their cello and the sound pushed them away.

They twirled around, cello spinning alongside them as they flourished their bow. Playing some complex notes, Chai was completely flabbergasted when moving figures made from sound waves erupted from the ground like… like daisies! And these daisies are aiming at him like he was target practice!

He nabbed 808, the cat not even turning back to normal as he yelled at their ear. "Peppermint, just what the hell is this guy about?!"

"I-I don't know! I haven't breached that far into their files!" She quickly explained. "Just-try not to die out there, okay? Back up's on the way!"

He let go of 808, the cat glaring at him from his manhandling. "You better hope that I won't tattle on your mom because of this!"

You're coming with me

Let's take a dive (dive)

Meet at the rainbow

9:45 (five)

Wear something trashy (woo!)

That's what I like (yeah)

We're on the rooftop

Jumpin' off the sides (sides)

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' for me?

He tried to rush the figures but before he could land a hit, one of them exploded, but it brought him closer to you as you slugged him across the room with your cello as if it was a baseball bat. A pained yelp escaped his lips, his body crashing once more against an unsuspecting waiter droid as they poofed from existence, leaving behind their scrap parts. Picking himself back up, Chai flourished his guitar before pinging Peppermint.

The girl dropped down, spinning her guns before shooting at the figures. “You got this, Chai!”

Chai ran ahead, the figures disappearing when they got too close. Jumping up in the air, he raised his guitar before slamming it down on the ground where they were. Not letting them recover, he continued his onslaught, each strike on-point to the beat before returning the same slug that they did to him. Their body flew across this room, hitting the seats close to where he saw the red man.

Speaking of him, he went closer to them, whispering closely to their ear. Their face went from pained, to shock, and then to desperation, and Chai’s interest was piqued. What did he say that made them act up like that?

Before he could lay out a quip, they stood up hastily. They brandished their cello once more, playing another string of complex notes as the figures conglomerated into one figure. A breathless squeak escaped Chai’s throat as he gaped at the gargantuan monster that stood behind them. And oh of course, the monster has fists the size of Macaron, of course!

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (Tell me, baby)

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (yeah, me through)

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (anyways)

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Chai gulped nervously before he raised his guitar. This was just as worse as fighting a giant mechanical werewolf. Before he could move, they charged forward, the monster raising its fist and Chai panicked. He called in Macaron as the large man struggled in blocking the gargantuan fist.

Chai let out a hasty apology before he jumped on the monster’s arm and ran across it. Before he could even move, the guy jumped on the same arm and pointed his bow at Chai. He rolled his eyes before twirling his guitar and did the same pose as them. For a moment, he swore he saw their mouth tug upwards before they surged forward. He blocked the first blow from the cello then rolled away from the swipe of their bow before he called in Peppermint and let her shoot them. As they were blocking the bullets, Chai went past the girl before he swung his guitar from the ground up.

However, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. A giant fist grabbed Chai, stopping him from doing his attack as he got raised towards the monster’s face. Even though it didn’t have a real ‘face’, Chai can’t help but feel deja vu in this situation. Just what was with him and being grabbed all the damn time?

“Chai, duck!” A familiar voice yelled. Immediately tucking his head down to his chest, he felt the telltale cyclones strike the monster’s face as they let him go. Taking his chance, Chai went back, running towards the stunned cello player when the monster was destroyed as his beaten guitar suddenly transformed into a sparkling new one.

“Sorry,” he started, “it’s curtains for you.”

The guitar made a direct hit towards the guy’s stomach and Chai does not envy the way their breath flew out of their lungs. Their body flew across the room, hitting the stage as it got destroyed. Not only that, the force of the crash made the curtains hanging on fall down, practically closing in on them.

Woo!

Are you coming with me?

Let's take a dive (dive)

Meet at the rainbow

9:45 (not a second later)

Wear something trashy

That's what I like (that's what I like)

We're on the rooftop

Jumpin' off the sides (jumpin' off the sides)

Are you fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa fallin' (woo!), fallin for me?

Fallin' with me

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

And with that, the final note came to an end and Chai couldn’t help but pat himself on the back. “This looks like a job well done!”

Familiar footsteps walked towards him and he didn’t need to turn around to see the familiar strong woman of the group give him a dead stare. “Sure, let’s not talk about how much property damage you’ve done.”

He waved her off. “Eh, just put in on my tab.”

She raised her hand before putting it down. “I-that’s not how that works-you know what, nevermind. Job well done, Chai.”

He let the praise get into his head until Korsica walked past him. He watched as she removed the curtains and picked up the person with ease, throwing them over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She snapped her fingers and soon two droids marched behind Chai. “Get their weapons. I’m bringing them in for questioning.”

“Ooohh,” Chai drawled out, stepping closer to her, “another Korsica interrogation? Mind if I help?”

She shrugged. “Sure, I can do the talking and you can be intimidating.”

He nodded at her words, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Yeaah, that’s what I wanna hear! I wanna get them to fess up with just one look!”

The ‘look’ that he was going for looked like he was trying to pop a blood vessel. Korsica patted his head. “I’m already quaking in my boots.”

“Good job, guys.” Peppermint’s voice rang through 808. “You can bring them here, Korsica. I got my own beef with them.”

A barely noticeable smile was painted on Korsica’s face when she heard Peppermint’s voice. “Whatever you say.”

She aptly ignored the way Chai was doing smooching faces when she responded. Raising her hand, she squished Chai’s cheeks. “Don’t you have a more pressing matter to attend to?”

He struggled to get out of her grip as he placed his fists on his hips. “This interrogation is a very pressing matter! I don’t wanna miss out on this!”

Korsica fondly rolled her eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

#hi fi rush x reader #hi fi rush #hi fi rush chai #hi fi rush chai x reader #series #mara.works #mara.series: the takes over the breaks over #chai x reader

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thebestworstidea · 1 year ago

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so here's a thing:

I prefer cold brew coffee. Tried it when Dunkin's first introduced it and I just like it. Tastes better. (I'm from New England, so drinking iced coffee in the winter is like eating icecream in the winter: totally normal.(global warming has led to the ice cream shops being open later in the season and opening earlier. It's kind of hilarious))

my mother, bless her heart, bought me a cold brew infuser. I assume she saw it and thought of me. (I don't think allowing me to drink as much coffee as I might make is a great idea, but I appreciate she thought of me)

This led to her buying me a hand crank bean grinder so I could get appropriately course grinds for the coffee infuser she likewize bought (I had concerns. Previously I have made coffee so bad that the entire kitchen crew told me in no uncertain terms I was not to make coffee again, and more or less led to us owning a Kurieg.) Part of that reason was my little sister (bless her heart) being too lawful good to open a package of beans to run it through the grinder in store.

The grinder is attached to what looks to be about a six cup ball jar. maybe eight, I'm still not allowed to measure things. I thought the point of grinding your own beans was to make them fresher. Anyone who needs that much grounds probably should be using an electric coffee grinder (we had one of those once. it attached to the blender. it was two cups big, max three) it's very cute, I'm just questioning design choices. it's like the size of the cold infuser.

Anyhow, I appreciate mother wanted me to have homemade access to something I like- but I mainly drink Dunkin's for the same reason I order from Dominos- no wait that's not true, I order from Dominos because they have an app which allows for as little human contact as possible, and frankly, if I'm ordering delivery, I'm probably already done for the day. The point is it's a drink that I know how it's going to taste, more or less, and is readily available, and non-carbonated.

Anyway, I've never drunk coffee every day. Now I kind of can. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility. Especially with the amount of set up involved. But it makes mother so happy that I'm using the gift she got, because she got it so I could do something that would make me happy.

Even if it's drinking cold coffee.

#willow is chatty #coffee

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yvernal · 3 days ago

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[Friday 29th]

The work day started with a meeting to talk about what was to come in the library in terms of cultural events and animations, as well as other little things. We learnt that a social structure dedicated to helping people in need would get a help desk one friday per month starting in January, in order to inform and offer help to the ones in need.

After that, the Collection department had another reunion. Despite being part of it, I had to leave because I still don't have the civil servant status.

So instead I went back to my office and started checking the order we just got for the creation of a new collection. A school tutoring section, starting from primary school to the end of high school. I managed to do 16 boxes on the 30 we received between that bit in the morning and two hours in the afternoon and I'll probably do more on Monday.

I ate sushi for lunch since I got my paycheck and a bonus. I put most on the side for my first car and that travel project I had for years, with some left on my account to get some nice things during December.

I also had to deal with the fact that a package I wasn't expecting before next week arrived earlier and ended up as an unsuccessful delivery. I wrote an email to the customer service I planned to send itself at 7 am. The good news is that mom wasn't the one to reception it while the bad news is that I know I had to deal with customer service.

The rest of my shifts was uneventful, expect that someone once again changed one of my shift from a shelving shift to a music floor shift. I might end up bringing it up to my hierarchy at some point, cause it's the third time they did that to me and I start to be fed up about it.

I joined Mom at the grocery store while coming back and helped her carry it. We got pizza for dinner, which was quite nice.

As usual, I have work tomorrow and I'm sleepy so I'll end it here.

#todate-today #yver-journal #journaling

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originalpackersandmoversblog · 2 years ago

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#agarwal packers and movers #professional packers and movers #reliable movers and packers #best packers and movers

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Text

Misplaced Mail - Part 1

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

Aelin accidently opens a package addressed for Rowan. Not a big issue. Except that he opened a package addressed to her. Issue.

Fic Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Part 2

Warnings: Language

1131 words

*******

One of the simple joys in life, Aelin decided, was getting an alert that a package you ordered finally arrived.

She’d just sat back down at her desk, after having taken a very short lunch because ‘that article better be in my inbox by the end of the day, Ms. Galathynius’ and she had a decent amount of editing that still needed to be done.

When her phone buzzed with a new email notification, she was sure it was another spam email but was pleasantly surprised to see it was the delivery alert for one of the orders she’d made earlier that week.

If hard-pressed, she wouldn’t be able to say what exactly she’d ordered—according to Elide, Aelin had a teensy, tiny, online shopping addiction—but whatever it was would surely be a bright spot in the stressful day she was having.

Deciding to act on the small burst of energy the alert had given her, Aelin opened the article she was writing and powered through for the rest of the afternoon.

***

Stepping into the lobby of her apartment building, Aelin quickly picked up her mail—ad, ad, bill, ad, and her package!

She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down the hall towards her door. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of her neighbors, people mostly kept to themselves, but she did know the resident of the apartment directly across from hers.

Rowan Whitethorn. They’d had more than a few conversations. It was mostly bickering, but she could always sense that he enjoyed their banter almost as much as she did. He was also insanely attractive, and she couldn’t help but occasionally watch from her peephole when he went for runs in his very tight workout gear, or when he returned in his very tight, very sweaty, workout gear.

Aelin collapsed on her couch before pulling her box closer. Forgoing a knife, she managed to lift the tape and rip off the adhesive sealing the cardboard together. She didn’t recognize the logo on the box inside, but it wasn’t like she knew the manufacturers of all the products she orders.

With a small smile on her face, Aelin tossed the cardboard aside and opened the actual box.

Her excitement immediately morphed into confusion as she looked at what was sitting in her lap. A thousand questions raced through her mind.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Why would I order this?”

“Did I drunk-buy again?”

“Seriously, what is this?”

Aelin stared at the strange object for another long moment before her brain clicked. It was a piece of some kind of weird exercise equipment.

Her eyes flew wide as she scrambled for the cardboard box it came in. She flipped it over, eyes scanning the label, and then she cringed.

It wasn’t addressed to her.

It was addressed to a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn.

Shit. Oops.

Brows furrowing, Aelin reached for her phone and found the email confirming the delivery of her package. Right there, the confirmation.

She winced. If she had Rowan’s package, that meant that he most likely had hers.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts and she rose from her perch on the couch to open the door.

Standing in her doorway was Rowan.

“Uh, I think I—I mean, I accidently—Uh, this is yours.” He thrust a box into her arms so quickly it was as if it burned him to hold it.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so flustered. His face was a bright red, he was stuttering over his words, and he wouldn’t meet her eye as she adjusted the box to get a better grip.

She just raised an eyebrow at him and slowly said, “Thank you. Yeah, there must have been a mix-up because I grabbed one of yours.”

Aelin placed the box in her hands on the counter as she walked to the couch to get Rowan’s package. When she turned back to him, she caught his eyes quickly dart away from her face. Weird. Normally he was cool and composed, but right now he looked like he wanted to bolt.

“I don’t even know what this is.” She gave him his rightful box and he mumbled a thanks before turning to leave.

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms, and watching perplexed as Rowan fumbled for his key to unlock his door.

“Okay, Whitethorn, what’s got you so jumpy?” Maybe she was a little too amused by his obvious discomfort at whatever she’d ordered.

He whipped around, dropping his key to the floor, and cursed before reaching to pick it back up.

“Nothing. Hm? I’m good. Its nothing.”

She snorted. “It’s obviously something. Gods, I can’t even remember what I bought,” she turned to grab the box on her counter, Rowan still trying to unlock his door, and lifted the lid to see inside.

She choked on air.

Now she remembered what she ordered.

It was three nights ago when Lysandra and Elide came over for girl’s night. They all had a little too much wine and binged watched rom-coms all night. Aelin remembered pieces of a conversation about her so-called dry spell, honestly, Lysandra, three months isn’t that long.

At some point, the three of them found a particular website that specialized in devices to aid in those dry spells. And apparently Aelin had placed an order.

Gods, she needed to get better at hiding her credit card from herself when she knew she’d be drinking. Not like it would do much good, she thought, she’d had those numbers memorized for years.

The sound of Rowan door finally opening made her look up, and it was then she had the full realization:

Rowan, her neighbor, her extremely hot neighbor that she had a not-so-secret crush on, opened her very realistically-shaped, bright pink, vibrator.

If only the universe could open a hole at her feet so she could disappear.

The only reason she could keep her voice steady was because Rowan seemed far more embarrassed than she was. Besides, she was an adult woman, why shouldn’t she own a vibrator…or four.

“Ah, thanks, I uh, wouldn’t want to lose this.” She cringed, why did she have to make this so awkward. More awkward.

Rowan didn’t say anything, but she saw his face get even redder. The tops of his ear were now a bright pink.

In a split-second decision, Aelin decided to throw caution to the wind and say, ‘Fuck it’. She drew up all her bravado and smirked at him as he turned and caught her eye.

“You know,” she winked, “maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.”

Grinning at his slack-jawed, wide-eyed, stunned face, she turned on her heel and shut her door.

****

Taglist:

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#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fic #rowaelin au #rowan and aelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan x aelin #au #fanfic #fanfiction #throne of glass #tog

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

tuxedo iv, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well

yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD

–

part i | part ii | part iii

So.

You kinda.

Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.

You animal.

“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat… man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?

Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?

You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.

“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”

Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–

“Take them off for me.”

“… P… Pardon?”

“I’m joking.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.

You need help.

Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.

What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?

(Yes.)

He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word.

Hold on a second.

Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?

Say sike right now.

A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.

"Yoongi–!"

You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose.

"You should change too."

Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.

"... W-What?"

Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder.

"Urk?!"

He started pushing your leggings down.

He started.

Pushing.

Them.

DOWN!!!

"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."

You think, Yoongi?

Not you.

You don't have think.

A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.

Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.

"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.

"You recorded me?"

"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain.

"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away.

"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change.

"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder.

"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."

Kim Seokjin was furious.

Furious!

His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.

He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.

After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling.

"Oh... thanks."

He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.

As usual.

Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you.

You sighed, feeling a little guilty.

"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."

Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly.

You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."

"Yoongi."

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high.

"Hmm..."

His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.

His fingers twitched again.

"They're noodles. Not string."

Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles.

"Just put them in your mouth."

He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that.

You thinned your mouth into a line.

"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"

Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate.

"You like them?" you asked.

He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.

Hold on.

He was a cat.

(Man.)

"What is this?"

"Dessert."

You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste.

"Is that cereal?"

"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."

You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.

Well.

Not your preferred thick white drink.

(You nasty.)

He nodded sagely and sat down beside you.

"Show me how to sew."

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following.

See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man.

Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?

That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.

So.

Do or not?

Hmm...

You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety.

Fun!

Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?

Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that?

No. You were too busy thinking about dick.

His dick.

Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now.

Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.

Should he say something?

Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.

He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.

He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor.

That was a bad sign.

“Shit.”

He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.

Alone.

Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.

“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”

He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.

He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.

“Shit!”

Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.

“No! Bad.”

The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.

Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.

His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.

“SHIT!”

“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”

You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.

“Are you a genius?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.

“Of course.”

You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.

“I’m a cat.”

“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.

“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”

Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–

He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?”

His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.

Oh no.

Oh nooo.

Oh nooooooo.

He’s cute.

“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.

His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.

Shit.

You were whipped for him.

Damnnit.

To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.

“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”

“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.

“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”

Yoongi tilted his head the other way.

“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”

He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.

You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?

Yeah, right.

You snorted and went into your bedroom.

“What’s this?”

You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.

“What? Oh, that?”

You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.

“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.

“Basically, I got no jams.”

The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.

“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.

You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.

A…

Skeleton in your closet.

A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?

“Can I have it?”

You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”

Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.

“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.

He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”

Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.

“Are you dead?”

“Shit!”

You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.

(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)

“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.

No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.

“Are you going to do something weird again?”

Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.

You froze.

Ice effect overlapping your whole body.

You dropped the keyboard stand.

Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.

Not letting go.

!!!

Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.

It wasn’t sentient.

He still didn’t trust it.

He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.

Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.

The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.

He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.

Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.

“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.

“Ahhhhhhh…”

He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.

Finally thinking about you.

In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.

Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.

“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”

You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”

Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.

Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”

Oh?

Oh!

Oh!!!

You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.

“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.

You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.

“Stop downloading porn!”

Jungkook snorted.

Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”

Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.

He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.

"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"

"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"

Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you.

Fuck.

(Yes, actually.)

He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive.

"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."

And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time.

Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything.

Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea.

Jungkook laughed to himself.

He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.

He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept.

A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body.

Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look.

"Are you mad?"

The cat didn't reply. He was a cat.

"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."

The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm.

"Do you love her back?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor.

You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction.

"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."

His hand lowered.

"But I do."

You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.

Only a wish.

He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well.

Yoongi looked into your eyes.

Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.

"Fuck–"

"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."

You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.

He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.

Classic.

You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.

Well.

Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity.

Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?

You stuck your fingers in it.

S... shit!

Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.

"I'll say it again."

Huh? You gave him a confused look.

He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears.

"I'm a cat, duh."

And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help.

You couldn’t get it off.

Panik!

Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.

Kalm.

You…

You couldn’t get it off!!!

PANIK!!!!!!!

“… What are you doing?”

You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.

“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.

He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.

“Are you dying?”

You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.

“I… can’t get it off… Help…”

He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.

Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.

“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.

He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.

“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”

You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”

He smirked.

Shit.

It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!

You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”

“You better fucking believe I would!”

(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)

He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.

“There’s a trick to it, of course.”

He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…

Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.

“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”

You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”

Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.

You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”

“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”

You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”

Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.

(Aw shit, here we go again.)

“Y-Yoongi?!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???

Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.

You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.

“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”

Holyfuckingshitcrap.

Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.

“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.

(Respectfully.)

Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.

“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”

Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.

Shit, shit, shit…

Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.

“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.

Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.

No, brain.

You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!

A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.

Wait. Is that you? Moaning?

(Yes.)

He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.

“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.

“I want to make you feel good.”

His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Thump.

“Yes.”

You said it.

Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.

“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”

Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it’s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–

“Urk!”

Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.

“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”

Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!

You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”

You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.

By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.

“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.

“You feel so good…”

That wasn’t you.

That was Yoongi.

Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”

Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???

“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”

You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.

“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.

His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.

“Fuck!”

Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.

“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.

“Y… Yes?”

He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His face appeared in front of yours.

“Yes.”

You didn’t think twice.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.

His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.

You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.

He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.

You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.

His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.

“Y-You don’t have to–”

“You like it, don’t you?”

You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.

Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.

“Hmm…”

“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.

“I think we should do that again sometime.”

Your mind went blank.

Again? Now? Later?

Next Tuesday?

WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?

“… Urk?”

Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.

His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

“I have a lot of things I want to try.”

part v

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

398 notes · View notes

renjuseyo · 4 years ago

Note

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water. “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?”

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #kpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x male reader #jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

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adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years ago

Text

Title: More than Words

Pairing: Idol! yoongi x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, thigh riding, dirty talk

Rating: 18 and over

Permanent Tag List: @heyimtavia @mochilicious-yoongi

Y/N:

You were hustling to get to his studio before 12pm, knowing damn well once 12pm hit, you wouldn’t be able to grab his attention. You rush up the hall, iced americano in hand, and bang your knuckles onto the door of his studio.

*Silence*

You pace back and forth from one leg to the other waiting for him to answer the door. Impatient, you knock again. The door swings open and before you stands your boyfriend Min Yoongi. “Hi!” You smile excitedly, handing over the coffee you purchased for him. He smiles wide at you, grabbing the coffee with one hand and pulling you towards him with the other hand. He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek and breathing you in. “Thank you so much jagi.” “You’re welcome. I wanted to give you some fuel for your day. I'm excited to spend the evening with you.” You explain stepping back to adjust your purse on your shoulder. “Uh, yeah, about that.” He winces and you feel your heart drops knowing what’s coming next. You swallow back the lump in your throat, clearing it completely. “Jagi, I completely forgot, and I told the members we could record the new track tonight. I’m so sorry, please don’t be upset. I know this is a surprise.” You felt the anger sear up inside you. How could he forget? You knew he was busy, but this was too much. “No, I’m not surprised. This is just how you are Yoongi, my busy bee. Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight. Please, don’t worry about it. We can catch up another night. Have a great recording session.” You give a tight smile, blowing a kiss to him before sauntering off, leaving him standing at the studio door.

Yoongi:

He couldn’t move. He just stood there watching her walk off. His heart thumping in his chest. Her words echoing in his head. ‘Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight.’ He couldn’t lose her, not when she was the best thing to ever happen to him. He was so in love with her, how could he be so stupid and allow his work to come in the way of his relationship. He growled under his breath, pulling out his phone. “Namjoon-ah, I can't record tonight. I have to take care of some other things tonight. Let’s reschedule for next week.” He hangs up and immediately makes another phone call. “Hi yes, It’s Min Yoongi. I need a favor.” Yoongi smiles sneakily, biting his lip.

Y/N:

You stand sulking in front of the microwave, listening to the kernels of your popcorn settle, ready to take it out before it burns. Just as you are about to yank the door open to your microwave, you startle at the sound of your doorbell ringing, huffing at how silly you are for getting such a fright. You walk over to the door, pressing your ear to it. “Who is it?” “Courier, special delivery, signature needed.” “You have the wrong address. I’m not expecting a delivery.” “Is this Miss Y/F/N Y/L/N?” “Yes.” You almost whisper. “Uh, Ma’am, please I have a lot more drop offs tonight, and this requires a signature or else I can't leave.” Your brow furrows at what it could possibly be that’s so urgent. You open the door slightly, eyeing the courier suspiciously. “Sign here please.” He hands you clipboard. You sign it, handing it back, and he then hands you a black gift box tied with silver ribbon. “Who is this from?” “I just deliver the packages ma’am but whoever it's from, they must really like you cause these deliveries are not cheap. Have a great night.”

You make your way back into your apartment and plop down onto your couch. You pull open the ribbon and lift the lid of the box to reveal a small white card atop white tissue paper. You lift the card out of the box and read the small cursive text.

‘Meet me at the Rooftop Del Mar and wear this. A car will be by in one hour. Xo Y.’

You pull the tissue paper from the box to reveal a black drape neck mini dress. Your mouth falls open as you feel the soft material and you run to jump into the shower. You are dressed and done up in under the hour time limit. You head downstairs and are greeted by a driver who is holding a tablet with your name on it. “I’m Y/N.” You say and the driver opens the back passenger door for you. You take a seat and attempt to call Yoongi but it goes straight to voice-mail.

You are at the restaurant in no time and soon the driver is opening the door and helping you to exit. “Welcome,” A male host greets you upon entrance into the restaurant, “Please follow me. You are our guest of honor.” You can’t help but blush, unsure of what’s going on. Your head is hazy and the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your tummy has you a bit queasy. You are escorted up to the rooftop, the elevator opening to an extravagantly set up dining area. There are no tables set up, only what seems like hundreds of bouquets of roses, pillar candles, and a red carpet. Your mouth hangs open and you look around drinking everything in. “Enjoy madam.” The host bows and gets back onto the elevator to leave. “Uh, wait. I don’t know what’s going on.” You stutter, your mouth dry.

You hear a click and suddenly your favorite love song plays on the overhead and you feel your heart thump in your chest. “May I have this dance?” Yoongi appears before you. Your jaw drops at how amazing he looks dressed in a white shimmering suit with pink embroidered top. He smiles at you, taking you in. “You look beautiful, jagi.”

Yoongi:

“How? Why? I thought you had to work?” She questions, picking at her fingers. “Work can wait. You can’t. I’ve been working too much and neglecting you, the most important person to me. I’m sorry for that jagi. I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me, just how much I love you, here, tonight. So, may I have this dance?” He smirks, holding his hand out to her.

She smiles that big beautiful smile and moves towards him, taking his hand. He pulls her towards him, her giggle filling him with joy. They begin to sway side to side, her palm resting on his chest, his hand on the small of her back. “Won’t you get in trouble for not recording the new track?” She inquires. Yoongi shrugs. “The thought of losing you trumps any trouble I could ever get in.” He says, twirling her around. She giggles again, her body pressed against him when she returns to him.

They gaze into each other’s eyes and all Yoongi can think about is how much he loves her, how he’d do anything to see her smile the way she is right now, and how he’d never do anything to jeopardize what they’ve built. “What?” She chuckles, her cheeks reddening. “You’re just so beautiful. I can’t stop looking at you.” He whispers, leaning in to plant a kiss on her soft lips. “Dinner is served outside sir.” The host appears. Yoongi nods, leading Y/N out through the decorated area, and onto the deck where a beautiful candlelit dinner has been setup.

Yoongi pulls out the chair for her to sit and takes a seat across from her on the bench. He looks up at the night sky, thinking how not one star in that sky shines as bright as his gorgeous Y/N. “Yoongi, this is so amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She assures almost nervously. Yoongi reaches his hand across the table to take hers. “Of course, I did. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I haven’t been doing right by you. It’s wrong of me to always put you on the back burner. Yes, work is important but all these accolades and then no one to share them with? If my whole world fell apart, I know I’d be ok, so long as I have you. You deserve someone who cares and I do, so much. I promise to show you that often jagi. More than words, actions. I never want to lose you, us.”

Yoongi sees the tears forming in her eyes and he brings her hand to his lips to comfort her. “Don’t cry my love.” She stands immediately, walking over to sit in Yoongi’s lap, her head in the crook of his neck. He pulls her close, the feel of her warm body against his bringing him such comfort. “I love you so much Yoongi. I was so scared earlier, like you just didn’t care anymore but this is so amazing. You’ve made me so happy. I don’t want to lose us either.” “Never jagi. Never.” He whispers, kissing her shoulder. She shifts in his lap, moving to plant kisses on his lips. He doesn’t fuss, instead letting her dig her hands in his hair to tug at his locks.

He can’t help but moan when she drags her tongue along his bottom lip. He opens his mouth for her and she wastes no time deepening the kiss, swirling her tongue around his. She breaks the kiss, licking her lips seductively as she stands. Yoongi looks past her, smirking when the host steps out to check on them then immediately turns to walk back in when Y/N straddles Yoongi. “Jagi, we’re still in public. Let’s finish dinner and we can head back home.” Yoongi pants, his breath catching in his throat when she thrust her hips forward. She shakes her head in opposition and Yoongi frowns. “I want you now.” She whines. “Not going to happen my love.” Yoongi declares.

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with that dark lustful look Yoongi knows too well. “I’m serious.” He warns. “Me too.” She teases, planting an open mouth kiss on his neck, suckling at his flesh. Her hand dripping down to massage at his manhood. Yoongi sucks in a breath, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet. He walks over to a secluded area, covered by greenery and potted trees. Yoongi takes a good look around, happy to have found a spot out of camera view.

Y/N:

“My poor naughty girl. It’s my fault you can barely control yourself.” Yoongi whispers against your collar bone, planting kisses against it. “It is.” You moan, attempting to reach down to grab his erection until Yoongi grabs both your wrist in one of his large hands. “No, no, no my love. Tonight, is all about you.” He smirks, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. He raises your hands above your head, holding them in place there. He lifts his bent knee up and anchors it into the wall between your legs, planting his flexed thigh into your heat. He grips your hip with his free hand and drags you across his thigh. You gasp out loud and watch the devilish grin spread across Yoongi’s face. “That’s it baby. Use me. I want to make you feel good, watch you cum.” You whimper at his words.

Bending your knees to gain better footing, you soon begin to rock back and forth along his firm thigh, your needy bud throbbing and hardening with each thrust. “My gorgeous girl. So needy, I’ve neglected you for too long, haven’t I? Dying for release?” “Yess. Yoongi. I need you.” “I’m right here baby. Watching you, wanting you so badly. You look so beautiful. So hot against my thigh. Soaking into my pants.” He whispers, licking at the shell of your ear. You moan out, rocking harder against him, bending your knees further to press more of your electrified bean into his tensed muscle. Your panties are completely soaked and the friction against your nerve endings has you coming undone faster than you had anticipated.

“Yoongi, so close. So…. God damn close.” You mewl, throwing your head back. Yoongi releases your hands, taking your hips into his hands now. You grip his shoulders, staring into his eyes as he presses his thigh into you more, aiding you across his thigh at an accelerated rate. Your mouth falls open, and you pant frantically, your throat drying. “That’s it jagi. Let go, soak my thigh, cum for me baby.” “Oh god,” You cry out, the coil deep inside your belly tightening. You clench your cunt suddenly, your coil snapping immediately. “Oh, yes! Yoongi, I’m cumming.” You shout, digging your nails into his shoulders. He pulls you into a kiss, one hand buried in your hair the other on your ass, still dragging you across his thigh. He swallows your sobbed moans with his tongue, slowing the pace as you come back from your high.

You pull away from him, pressing your back against the wall. Yoongi stretches his leg, the very apparent wet spot glistening in the moonlight. “I ruined your suit.” You say breathlessly. He shrugs looking down at it. “I don’t care about the suit. How do feel?” “OK, like I want more.” He smiles his wide gummy smile and moves towards you, pressing his body into yours. He kisses you softly. “Like I said it’s all actions from here forward jagi. Whatever you want. Although, maybe we should eat?” You giggle, kissing him again. “OK, maybe just a quick bite.” “That’s my girl.”

#anon request #bts smut #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

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Lost In Zero Gravity (P.6)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,632 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Drug use in this chapter specifically!

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You did not handle that well,” Tony said irritated, adjusting his suit as he settled back in the seat in the back of the SUV as the driver took off.

“Sue me!” Steve snapped. “She was a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, you were impulsive.” Steve gave Tony a pissed off look. “Really, it’s not like you. That’s my schtick. What’s up? What’s wrong?”

Steve chewed on his cheeks looking out the window. Tony leaned forward to try to catch his gaze. “Hey. Talk to me.”

With some difficulty, Steve breathed, “Cecile lost $200k on a bet.”

“What?” Tony asked, unable to mask his shock.

“Yeah,” Steve said throwing his hands out. He shrugged, giving a wry laugh, “She just texted me. Right before we got here. Fucking stupid.” He shook his head angrily, punching his thigh. His voice shook with his anger, “This is why I told her to stay the fuck out of gambling.”

“Fuck,” Tony said under his breath, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“Yeah, ‘fuck’ is right! That’s not chump change! You know, maybe if she wasn’t drunk half the time, this shit wouldn’t happen!”

Tony hesitated for a few moments before clearing his throat. “As terrible as that news is – because fuck me, I know that’s gonna dive into my funds too – but how about next time you’re already on edge, maybe let me know so I can handle the situation? Especially one as delicate as that?”

“I don’t need a damn lecture, Tony—”

“No, no, you do!” Tony interjected. “Do you remember what you just did? Grabbing Y/N like you did? Has it completely slipped your mind what recently happened? I mean—”

Steve hit the door and shouted, “Goddamnit, Tony, I know!” Happy eyed the two of them through the rearview mirror, gauging the situation. Tony shut his mouth, his eyes piercing Steve across the seat. Taking a shaky breath, Steve dug his fists into his legs. Calmer now, he said, “I know. I know. I’ll… apologize. Do something to make up for it.”

“Don’t let your marriage shit leak into this,” Tony told him firmly. Steve clenched his jaw and Tony said, “I’m fucking serious.”

<><><>

Tony was true to his word. He came back in the evening around 9:45pm, calling out for you when he closed the door. You were lying down on the bed and threw the covers back. Coming down the hall, you straightened out your top, smelling some hot cooked food.

You walked into the open kitchen, seeing he was taking food out of a bag.

“You eat yet?” he asked, not looking at you yet as he started opening containers. Without missing a beat, he went on. “Dumb question. I know you didn’t. Unless you just filled up on apples. Terence and Daryl said you didn’t order any groceries or food delivery. So… I got us burgers. My favorite.”

He was keeping an eye on you, that was plain.

Noticing you still had not come closer and he looked up, popping a few fries into his mouth.

“I like nightgowns,” Tony commented, running his eyes over your outfit.

You hesitated for a moment, debating about going back to your bedroom and slamming the door. You had had enough of their attitudes for the day, but Tony gave you a quick, playful smirk. He was just teasing. You relaxed, coming up to the counter.

“I like shorts. They’re comfortable,” you retorted.

“Hmm. The biggest tug of war for women. Sexy or comfortable. Well, it is your place so you can do whatever you damn well please, right?” He winked at you and dug back into the bag. “Got you some champagne. Thought we could celebrate your new place.”

He shoved your burger and fries towards you and went to the fridge. “Shit. We forgot ketchup. Good thing I asked for some.” He returned back to the counter and pulled some ketchup packages out of the bag, tossing them on the counter. The champagne bottle was back in his hands.

“Thanks,” you said picking up a few fries, eating them.

“Of course. Don’t want you to starve. Also… sorry about Steve earlier,” he said, popping the top off the champagne. He swiftly brought it up to his mouth to catch the overflow. He caught you looking at him and he shrugged. “Just thought I would apologize for him since he’s not here to do it himself.”

“Hmm,” was all you said as he moved past you to grab glasses.

Tony placed two glasses on the counter, his shoulder brushing yours. He poured two half full glasses and slid one towards you. You picked it up and he smiled at you.

“To your new place.”

“My new place,” you returned.

Glasses clinked and the two of you took a long drink.

Tony dug into his burger, taking a large bite. He let out a pleasured moan.

“Looks like you enjoy burgers more than sex,” you commented, picking your own up and taking a bite.

“That could be argued,” Tony admitted.

The two of you ate quietly then, Tony refilling your champagne glasses in between. He was making far more progress than you. You began wrapping up your burger but stopped under his gaze.

He eyed your half-eaten burger and your shoulders slumped, admitting embarrassed, “I did eat a couple – a few, actually – apples.”

Tony let out a sharp laugh, “Wow, you really are that stubborn. I’m impressed. Want me to put this in a Tupperware for you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He went to work to put it in the fridge for you. “Seriously, order some food. Fruit is good for you but damn, you need some sustenance.” He turned back around, and his eyes fell on the champagne bottle. He shook his head and said, “I’ll put that in the fridge too. You can have that later. I do gotta get back home.”

“So soon?” you asked, pouting. If they wanted to earn trust from you, you knew the easiest way to do that was being as available as possible. You knew how to speak to men like them. “You don’t want to relax before you go back home?” You pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the counter, your breasts free.

“You’re trying to stall me,” Tony stated, pointing at you, finishing the last part of his burger. With a full mouth, he stated, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your top back off the counter. Tony was there in a second though, yanking it from your hand. His lips crashed into yours, his hands roaming freely. You laughed against his kiss, pulling away. He tried to snatch you back, but you danced away, going towards the couch.

He shook his head following you, “You are really being a tease. And I am really full. I don’t feel like a chase.”

“Well, I’m only going over here,” you said gesturing at the couch behind you. “All you have to do is sit.”

His smirk was salacious, coming over at his own accord. He enveloped you back to him by the couch, pressing you up against the back. It shifted a few inches and you laughed, “You need to be careful.”

“I could tell you the same thing trying to get me riled up like you are,” he growled. He forced the two of you to walk around the back and the arm. He flopped onto the couch, freeing his dick from his pants.

Coming to your knees, you took him in your mouth. Tony chortled and it strangled as you sunk to his base, your tongue swirling. His hand came up to hold you there, bucking further into your throat. You struggled to keep yourself from gagging, relaxing as much as you could as he used your throat. His head brushed the back of your mouth repeatedly and you opened for his silken length until you could not handle it.

You gasped for air when you came back up and locked eyes with him. He nodded fervently, encouraging you. You licked at his tip, making him buck slightly. Another lick before you slowly swallowed him back down halfway, coming back up. His hand came to cradle you behind your head, his fingers pressing in to encourage you to go faster. You obliged him, your hand moving to play with his balls. He groaned against the sensation, bucking towards you.

Pulling away suddenly, you drew a disappointed sigh from him. Your other hand came to play with your sex that was already wet and ready; you loved giving blow jobs.

“Still no protection?” you teased.

“Fuck it, come on up here,” Tony gestured with both hands impatiently.

His cock slipped inside you, your arms hooked around his shoulders. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back. As usual, he did not leave you wanting. His hand came down to play with your clit when he felt he was getting close. You left him space to work, and he thrusted deep.

“Come on, come on, baby,” he panted.

He came down first, twitching. You forced his hand to your clit as he tried to relax, and he groaned but obliged you now. It only took a few moments before you came tumbling down after him. His hand fell limply to his side.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your foreheads touching.

He laughed, his hands coming back up to grip your sides and pull you closer. He kissed the tip of your nose affectionately. When he patted your ass, you took the hint and crawled out of his lap, standing bare in front of him. He took you in, smiling in approval.

“Dinner and sex. I knew this apartment was a good idea,” He said, zipping his jeans back up. He got up from the couch, straightening his clothes out. His eyes ran over your body again and he smirked briefly. “You just seem to know when I need release.”

“It’s kind of my specialty,” you retorted playfully.

Tony chucked you under the chin and then said, apologizing again, “I really am sorry about Steve’s outburst earlier. He has shit going on at home that he didn’t care to share with the class. He’ll get over it. Promise, sweetheart.”

“Hopefully with a better attitude the next time he visits.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Tony agreed.

You stopped him before he went for the door.

You shrugged sheepishly and asked, “Can… I get a pet? To keep me company?”

Tony stared at you for a few moments before shrugging in return. “As long as it’s a cat. I like cats. And you need to tell me when because there’s probably some stupid pet deposit and pet rent. Gouging you for every penny they can.” He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours. “Do I have permission to leave yet? Or do you have any other sexy schemes up your sleeve?”

You pecked his lips and said quietly, “The cat was the icing on the cake.”

He pecked you back and said, “Good. I’ll see you soon.”

<><><>

The next morning, you got out of the shower, wiping yourself down with a towel. Your robe was waiting on the counter and you wrapped that around yourself when you were dry, hanging the towel back up on the back of the door.

You froze then, hearing someone walk into the apartment, the door closing. You listened intently.

“Y/N, it’s me,” you heard Steve call from down the hall.

Relaxing realizing it was not an intruder, you tied the robe before leaving the bathroom.

Coming into the living area, you saw he was placing a bag on the counter. You approached cautiously.

“What’s… is something wrong?” you asked. You only asked because it was 7:30am.

Steve shook his head moving towards you and you faltered, shrinking away from him slightly. He stopped, exhaling sharply. “No. Nothing is wrong,” he said tightly. “I brought you breakfast. Tony said you hadn’t ordered groceries yet. It’s waffles and eggs.”

He turned away from you, going towards the cupboard to grab a plate. He started serving you up a plate and you came up to the counter, watching him. He fetched you silverware and pushed the plate towards you before making himself up a plate. He looked like he had barely slept.

“Thank you,” you told him.

Before he even took a bite, he apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act like I did yesterday. I felt like shit about it afterward, not that that excuses it. But really. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to get physical. I don’t have an excuse for that. Especially knowing your past.”

You did not actually expect him to apologize for it; that was new. And he seemed sincere. You swallowed the waffle you were chewing slowly. You shrugged, “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not but I appreciate you saying so,” Steve returned.

You took another bite and then asked, trying to extend an olive branch, “Wanna watch something while we eat?”

Steve gave a little laugh, “That’s… that’s actually what I came over here to do.” You furrowed your brow and he explained, “Just wanted a calm place to veg out and watch some TV. I thought here was better than other places right now. Choose something.”

“Fine,” you said, holding up one finger. “Broad City. It’s based in NYC and it’s about two girls in their twenties who just have crazy ass adventures. Or,” you emphasized, holding up two fingers. “What We Do In the Shadows. Also, NYC but it’s vampires. But it’s The Office style.”

“I just finished that,” Steve said.

“It’s a classic.”

“So I was told.”

“Did it live up to expectations?”

“Sure did.”

“So, do you want comedy one with two girls that’s super cringe but hilarious. Or four vampires – one is an energy vampire, not traditional – but it’s also cringe?”

Steve contemplated for a moment and said slowly, “The girls.”

“Of course you pervert,” you said, smirking, picking up your plate and moving towards the couch.

Steve followed you, sitting on the couch beside you as you pulled it up on Hulu.

You started him proper on the series premiere and the two of you ate, Steve going for a second plate. The man could eat. He was actually enjoying it and you made it through three episodes, plates long discarded on the coffee table, before he leaned back on the couch, looking tired.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well. The food isn’t helping either.”

“That’s called a food coma.” He chuckled at that and you said, “I’m serious. I have it happen all the time.”

“I’m probably gonna pass out,” Steve admitted.

“I’ll be quiet,” you assured him.

He patted his lap, and you cocked an eyebrow. He beckoned you and said, “You can lay here with me and be quiet.”

You had had this happen before – it was rare, a man just wanting to cuddle with you. But you did as he requested, lying your head on his thigh. His arm laid across your chest, his fingers delicately playing with your side. The episode rolled on and at the change in episodes, you heard him softly snoring. You did not dare move. Truth be told, you had not slept well either and you ended up dozing off too.

<><><>

You awoke to the jangling of keys. Groggily, you sat up, your movement stirring Steve from his slumber. You blinked, seeing Tony walking into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He was carrying grocery bags and he stopped for a moment, eyeing the pair of you, before he went to the island, putting the bags up on it.

“Taking a nap already? It’s only noon. Which means lunch time. Good to see you have actual food here,” Tony commented sarcastically, gesturing the bags he brought. He began putting things away in the fridge and cupboards.

You stretched, saying, “I just need someone to cook it for me. I’m tired right now.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’ve tried to cook food for the missus, and she’s blacklisted me,” Tony responded, much to your amusement. “How about we order French? That’ll be safer. I’ve been craving escargot.”

“Ew?” you said, lying back down on Steve’s lap, and Steve nodded in agreement.

“Oh fuck off, you both like clams,” Tony called over his shoulder.

“Clams are not the same as snails,” you pointed out.

“They’re just land clams.”

Steve and you locked gazes, the two of you frowning at that statement.

“Shit, he’s right,” Steve admitted.

“You’re goddamn right that I’m right. Just because the two of you are uncultured swine,” Tony said, coming around the couch and gesturing for you to lift your legs. You did as he asked and he sat down, pulling your legs back over his lap, his cell phone in hand.

“Is there linguine at this escargot place? Because I’ll take that,” you offered. “Shrimp. Specifically.”

“That’s Italian, Y/N,” Tony replied, scrolling through his phone.

“Then can we get Italian?”

Tony shot you a look but smirked quickly after. “You got it,” Tony stated, his thumb pressing on something on his phone. He was ordering real time.

“Breadsticks…?” you ventured.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, those too. And I’ll take spaghetti and meatballs.”

“You’re just… boring,” Tony muttered but he went to work anyway to order the food.

You stretched out your limbs and rolled back onto your side to grab the controller for the console. You pressed play on the show again, cuddling up amongst them, anticipating the food. It was weird for sure, relaxing like this between them. But they had got you here in the first place and all you could do was follow their lead. It felt intimate though.

<><><>

Tony left midafternoon after the food had settled, claiming that he had taken a long enough lunch break, leaving you and Steve again.

You walked back from the bathroom, finding Steve standing next to the window and the unmistakable smell of weed emanating from where he was. He heard you walking up and turned back. He saw you staring at the lit joint in his hand and he shrugged sheepishly.

“I don’t have anything to do today,” Steve responded, taking a puff off the joint.

“Isn’t there a no smoking policy?” you inquired, coming closer. “And can’t you not get drunk?”

“The window’s open,” he said gesturing at the open window. You smirked and he shrugged, holding it out to you. “You want a hit? And alcohol acts different in the system, dove. THC definitely does the trick for me.”

You closed the distance to him, taking it from him and wrapped your lips around it sensually, taking a long drag. You held it in before exhaling slowly.

“Professional,” Steve smiled.

“In a lot of different things I suppose.”

You held it back out to him, your other hand came down, running down his chest, caressing.

“You seem on edge,” you whispered.

He smirked, taking the joint from you. “That’s what the weed is for.”

“You sure I can’t help?”

His eyes flashed at the insinuation, taking another long drag. He exhaled his smoke out the window in rings. He held it back to you and you took another hit. He looked around and you followed his gaze. “Shit,” he muttered. “Wanted to save half for later. Didn’t think that through without an ash tray.”

You left him to finish it, going to grab a glass bowl out of your cupboard. You held it out to him, and he rose his brows. You shrugged, “What? I can put it through the dishwasher.”

“I suppose,” he admitted, coming over and gently putting it out. You placed the bowl on the counter as he said, “But, yeah. You can help since you mentioned it.”

Steve picked you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You loved how strong he was, that was a perk. His kisses were ravaging, sucking earnestly at your jawline, neck, and lips as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. He tossed you back on the bed and crawled on after you. He was earnest, his touch desperate. He was kissing every part of your body that he could.

The two of you undressed each other, tousling around on your comforter. Steve entered you with ease, the two of you lying on your sides. He nipped at your earlobe as he drove himself up into you, his hand caressing and squeezing at your chest.

You ended up on your knees, his hand pressing at the small of your back. You arched your back for him, letting him dive deeper.

“Just like that Cecile,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming shallower as he got close to release.

That drug you from your high immediately.

Who the fuck was Cecile?

You lost the rhythm and Steve came without you, his hands gripping you tightly.

He rolled off of you, breathing heavily. It did not seem to register with him what he had done. It was not the first time a man had called you by a different name mid-sex, but Steve had never.

Pushing past the disappointment of not coming and the uncomfortableness you felt, you turned over and he drug you to his side, holding you there as he steadied his breathing. Your hand laid on his chest, rising and falling with his breath.

“That was good, dove,” he exhaled, looking relaxed. His eyes were definitely red, high as a kite. “I think I might actually get some good sleep.”

“That’s good,” you said softly, tracing slow circles on his chest. You hoped you would fall asleep quickly too to avoid overthinking about what had just happened.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!steve rogers #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #dark steve rogers #dark tony stark #my shit

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redhairedfeistynerd · 4 years ago

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Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 2

A/N: Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words:3500+

Part 1 here

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be re-posted anywhere.

Snow.

Of all the days to make the largest and final delivery, the sky had to open and drop copious amount of fluffy, white snow throughout the morning, which dramatically turned to rain in the afternoon. The streets were bound to be a disaster and you didn’t have time for this mess.

Trying to slide another box into your SUV was like playing a game of Tetris and one that you were about to lose. With a push, the last piece fit in, but as one went in, another slid out. From the top of the pile, a large box (in painful slow motion) popped out of its comfy home and dropped to the ground, a large splash soaking your left side with cold, slushy water. All the carefully wrapped toys, were now submerged in the grey slush water at your feet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you cried out to the sky and pulled your toque over your eyes. Lifting the wool from your eyes, you stared at the colossal mess at your feet, and tried to swallow down the lump that was quickly forming in your throat. Blinking fast, attempting to avoid that tears that were threatening to pour out of your eyes. What a mess.

“Y/N?” A male voice came from behind you, the sound of slushy footsteps quickly approaching.

Oh no. OH NO.

Not that voice.

Squatting down once more to try and quickly pick up some of the packages, you stop when two large feet stand in the water beside you, splashing dirty droplets of water in your face.

“Thanks, asshole,” you muttered.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Chris chuckled from above you and offered his hand.

“Get the fuck away from me, Evans,” you shouted, slipping while trying to stand up. You made another attempt to stand and turned to face him, a look of disgust clearly showing across your face.

“Damn. What exactly did I do to you again?”

“The fact that you are asking, pisses me off even more,” you shot back as you turned around and bent down, wrapping your arms around several sopping packages.

“Gifts for your boyfriend?” He asked, his tone emitting a slice of jealousy.

“These gifts are for the kids, you oaf,” you snapped back.

Chris didn’t have a response but leaned down to pick up a box floating near his feet “Here, don’t forget this one. I’m...I’m sorry for the snarky comment,” he said biting at his lip, embarrassment running through him. “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that,” he added holding out the small, mushy box to you. “Are these going to the women’s centre? I can help you get them there if you like.”

You stared back at him, trying not to bit your lip so hard in frustration. “I don’t need your help. Please, stay away from me, Chris,” you said grabbing the wet box from his hand. “They’re going to the Neighbourhood House.”

“At least let me get the car door for you, the trunk looks a bit full,” Chris said as he opened the back door.

Tossing the wet gifts into the back, not caring about the upholstery, you muttered a “thanks” Chris’s way before slamming the door and walking around to the driver's side, stopping to close the trunk on your way. Hopping in, you made the mistake of looking in your rearview mirror as you started up the car, Chris’s smirking face looking right at you. “Stupid good-looking asshole,” you snarled as you drove away from him, trying to ignore the small wave he gave as you drove down the street. Heading back to your office, hoping that your coworker was still there with the other pile of gifts that were ready to go out today to a few local schools.

The office was quiet, no papers shuffling, no phones ringing. You knew you had missed your chance to switch out some of the gifts before heading over to the Neighbourhood House that evening. This day was not going the way you had planned and if you couldn’t deliver the gifts promised, this day was going to go from bad to worse, very quicky.

You wanted to blame all of this on Chris, mainly because even looking at his handsome face infuriated you more than anything. But your reasonable side knew that the problems with the gifts had nothing to do with him and you were still holding a grudge from years before. You needed to get this out of your system, once and for all.

You poked around the storage room in your office for any extra toys; a few boxes remained and you remembered that several gift cards remained – a few of the older kids may want to buy something instead.

Okay, this will work. This isn’t so bad, right?

Packing up the new gifts in bags and leaving the soggy toys by your desk, you headed back to your car and off to the Neighbourhood House.

“What? Where did these come from?” You gaped at the bags stuffed with tissue paper of every colour, full of gifts. Boxes upon boxes filled the front of the entryway, piled neatly underneath a large tree that almost touched the high ceiling.

“A gentleman came by, maybe 20 minutes ago with all of these, he said that they were part of the delivery you were bringing by this evening.”

“But...I...” Completely confused but relieved that you didn’t need to explain the mess that had happened earlier in the day, you smiled at the shelter employee and made your way back out to your car to bring in the remainder of the gifts.

“Thank you for your kind donation this year, including our staff this year was not expected,” Marjorie the director of the Neighbourhood House gushed.

Was this some alternate universe where gifts started popping up where ever you went. What the hell was going on? Had your team approved an extra donation at the last moment?

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for you to figure out what was going on. There he stood, inside the main entrance of the building, hands in his pockets, bouncing on his heels, whistling a Christmas song and completely avoiding eye contact.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, walking up to the smirking man.

“Trying to follow in your footsteps and help out the community more? Is that okay with you?” Chris snapped back at you.

Storming out of the building, you rushed to your car, in hopes of escaping Chris. His long strides caught up to you in no time, meeting you at the SUV but before you could put your hand on the door handle, he took hold of your arm and turned your body to face him.

“Why are you so angry at me? All I did after I saw you three years ago, was to send you flowers! Do you hate flowers or something?! I’m trying to figure out what the hell I did to you to make you act this way around me?”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about; you’re absolutely delusional,” you spat at him and went to pull at the handle too fast, ripping back one of your nails. You shouted out in pain, holding your finger tightly with the other hand, face flushing red out of anger and pain.

He reached out, placing his hand on your shoulder, trying to stop you from turning away. “Y/N-

“Don’t touch me!” You shouted, pulling away your arm in disgust, “the last time you did that, you broke my fucking heart!” And with those final words, you pulled on the door handle again, hopping into the car and screaming once more before starting the engine. Your head fell to the steering wheel, hitting your forehead into the it several times while angry words spouted out of your mouth.

Having no idea what was going on, Chris drove away from the shelter, utterly confused by what you had screamed at him. How the hell had he broken your heart? After spending the night at your place all those years ago, a lazy morning and a wonderful breakfast, he had made his way back home with the promise to see you again two days later. Unfortunately, his schedule had a last-minute change and he had to head out several days earlier than expected. He’d spoken with Scott and begged him to pop by your office and drop off a bouquet as an apology and that he would reschedule when he returned to town the following week. What if...

Chris turned the wheel fast, tires screeching as he maneuvered a U-Turn and headed back towards his house. Once parked, he slammed his car door and pushed his way into his house, the aggression taken out on the door as he slammed it. He immediately headed up to the guest room to find his brother. He found him quickly, the younger Evans sitting back and looking engaged in a book that once sat on Chris’s nightstand. Scott jumped when Chris burst into the room, letting out a scream and throwing the book towards his older brother.

“Chris! What the hell, man,” shouted Scott and got up for the bed to stand in front of his brother.

“I’ve got something to ask you and you better have an answer that makes sense,” Chris shouted. “What happened when I asked you to send Y/N flowers all those years ago?”

Scott nodded, his eyes looking to the ground, afraid to meet his brother's cold stare. “I... I forgot to do what you asked. I ended up with a call from my agent and was excited about the conversation I had and it slipped my mind. Plus, there were a thousand other things that came up that week. I’m sorry?” Scott apologized, looking up and meeting his brothers' eye, a little smile on his face, looking for forgiveness.

“Scott! What do you mean you forgot?” Chris stepped closer to Scott, almost nose to nose.

“Exactly what I said, I forgot to go by. I had a lot of other things going on that week if I’m remembering clearly. Was it too hard for you to call or message her?”

“I thought the flowers would be a romantic gesture. I can’t believe you never went by, now I know why she doesn’t want me near her. The thing is, when I got back, I did call her and she never picked up.”

“Do you not know how to leave a voicemail? A text? Are you really that idiotic?”

“She just...I just...” Chris couldn’t stop fumbling with his words.

“You’re something else, dear older brother. But I know you can talk and I know you have a romantic side. So, where to start?”

Chris shuffled his feet, embarrassed that he hadn’t given you the time and respect you deserved all those years ago. “I guess I should try to talk to her,” he mumbled.

Scott pushed his right shoulder, “Come on Rico Suave, you can fix this, right?”

“I’m pretty sure after her stewing on this for 3 years, that my chances are nil.”

“Bat those pretty blues and sing to her, I swear, use your Evans charm, or continue being a dumbass, your choice,” Scott shrugged.

Chris shook his head in annoyance and walked away from his brother. Could he fix this?

“So, lover boy, what’s going on in that big head of yours?”

“I’m going to go by her office and I’m going to beg her to come by the house.”

“And what

“I have an idea. What do you think about this...”

The chimes jingled as the door to your office opened “I’ll be right with you, I just have to send off this email,” you said. A few more words added and you hit the send button. “Okay, done. What can I help...” You tried to finish your sentence but that cat definitely had your tongue. The second your eyes met the blue eyes of the man you despised more than anything, you couldn’t finish asking your question.

“Y/N, please, please let talk to you about what happened, or what I think happened. Please,” Chris pleaded, seconds away from falling to his knees and begging.

You were tongue tied, the snark you could so easily dish out was stuck in the back of your throat, silenced.

“I’m sorry that I came by work, I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you. You did a pretty good job of blocking me on every form of media and communication I have. When I saw Rosie, I couldn’t help but ask about you.”

“Why are you here?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears that were fueled by sadness and anger.

“I want to, I need to talk to you about what happened. A few things came to light today, that I didn’t know and I would appreciate if you would take the time to listen and hear me out.”

Before you could try to respond, your phone sang out a tune, the one that you have reserved for Rosie. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you now had an excuse to pull your eyes away from Chris.

Y/N. Please give him a chance. Hear him out, I swear it's worth it.

“Rosie is in on this too? Why are you involving my friends Chris? I swear, you better make this worth it.”

“Please. Y/N. After you finish up here, will you come by my place and I promise all I want to do is speak and I’d appreciate it if you’d be willing to listen.”

You needed to sit down. The anxiety building quickly, you couldn’t breathe. “Fine. I’ll come by in an hour. I’ll sit. I’ll listen. That’s all. Deal?”

Chris’s face lit up, a half-smile forming, “Deal, I’ll see you shortly.” He gave a little wave and headed back out into the night.

You sat in your car outside of Chris’s beautiful house, nervous as to what the night was going to bring. After all of these years, what did he need to tell you? Would a simple text not suffice? You took a deep breath and unbuckled your seatbelt, ready to pull off the Band-Aid quickly and get this all over with. Feet finally out of your car, you walked across the gravel drive to his front door, knocking and hearing Dodger bark at the sound. Footsteps followed soon after, the door unlocked, and there, there was the most handsome man you had ever seen (and couldn’t stand).

“I was wondering when you were going to get out of your car. I heard you drive up about twenty minutes ago and I figured you were having second thoughts about coming. I’m glad you’re here though, so thank you.” Chris moved aside and you walked into the entryway, pulling off your shoes and placing the beside the door. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m pretty sure a drink is necessary.”

“Let me go grab something, take a look around, okay?”

Walking to the couch, you checked out the little plants and decorative items he had placed around the room. There were some great art pieces on his walls and when you got closer to the couch, the painting hung above it stopped you. “What the...” It couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have known all this time and not have said anything. This man lived to rub shit in your face – the ultimate gloater. In front of you, on the wall above his couch, was the painting you had donated all those years ago to the gallery. Dodger’s nails tapped on the wooden floor, pulling your mind (and jaw) back into place. You heard footsteps following and a tune being whistled as he walked through the doorway, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

“I thought you might like a glass of this, I...” he stopped halfway to you and realized that you were still standing in the middle of the room, your mouth half open and staring at him. His eyes flicked to the painting on the wall and then back to your face, you could see the look of panic slowly starting to take over. “I...I can explain,” he stuttered taking several steps closer to you.

“How-”

“There was something that was pushing me to find out and that night, I called the owner of the gallery and asked if I could find out which piece you had donated. She was hesitant to offer any details but as privileged as this sounds, I offered to donate a large sum to the charity and buy another painting from her gallery to get the information. I needed to see what you created and once I had it, I couldn’t stay away from you...which is why we kept running into each other the way we did. Please don’t be creeped out.”

“Are you completely forgetting about the whole fuck ‘n chuck moment? You hunt me down and flash your pearly whites at me, make me feel something for you, we get into bed, and poof, you disappear. Care to explain before I get the hell out of here? You replied angrily, your face flushing out of frustration.

“Y/N...”

“Y/N, what? Oh, it wasn’t the right time. I didn’t think it meant anything...”

“That’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

"Then what is it, Christopher. You never shut up and when I need you to say something, you clam up. What IS IT?” You couldn’t help but shout, you were angry, sad, and had no idea where this was going.

“If you stopped jumping over what I keep trying to say, then maybe I could get everything out. So, for a few minutes, can you keep your mouth shut. Shit, and I thought I was annoying,” he explained loudly.

You nodded; eyes wide that he had raised his voice to get his story across. You were wound up so tightly, incredibly hurt by his action's years ago, that you didn’t exactly know how to contain and cope with your emotions. You took a seat on the couch and looked up at him, still standing where he first entered the room and had stopped when he noticed you looking at your own art in his house. He took a few steps closer and looked to you, “Is it okay if I sit on the couch next to you?”

“I guess...”

Chris sat a comfortable distance from you, placed the wine glasses and bottle on the table and waited until you settled and looked to him to continue on.

“I messed everything up, I’m taking all responsibility for this giant mess.” Chris sat silent for a few moments, his fingers intertwined and his left thumb rubbing across the right. He was clearly nervous. Clearing his throat and lifting his head up, blue eyes meeting yours, he blinked once and began to speak. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I messed up and badly. When I left you that morning, my plan was to see you again, once I returned home from my work trip. Everything happened so fast that day and to be honest with you, my head was in the clouds; all of my thoughts revolved around you and the wonderful evening I had with you. I was so busy in dreamland, that I ended up almost missing my flight. I asked Scott to help me out and send a bouquet of flowers to you, with a note explaining that I had to leave earlier and that I would call you soon. The thing is, I thought he had followed through and didn’t even know until the other day that he had never sent the flowers or note to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I did try to call though, when I was home and you never answered and I figured the night meant nothing to you.”

You sat there, silent for a few moments trying to take in everything he had said “Well, aren’t we a bunch of idiots,” you said, looking at him, a smile on your face.

The corner of Chris’s mouth lifted, a smile in there. “Does this mean you forgive me?"

“I mean, I’m still upset but I get that miscommunication can happen and I mean, how many people go as far as calling a gallery to hunt down a painting and then buying it. You’re pretty unbelievable, Evans.”

“But do you forgive me?” Chris asked as he scooted closer to you and let his fingers crawl closer to yours.

You took a hold of his hand and brought it to your lips, and kissed his knuckles softly. “I do forgive you Chris and I hope you forgive me for how hostile I’ve been. I really appreciate what you did for the Neighbourhood House too, I’ve never seen anything like that and you saved the day, so, thank you.” You kissed his hand again and looked up at him, a smile still on his face.

Chris sighed and watched as you pulled his hand into your lap. “Y/N, is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?”

“That would make me incredibly happy,” you replied and moved in closer, meeting his soft lips again after all these years. “I’m still mad at you though, I hope you know that. And let’s not forget about Rosie. I can’t believe the two of you did this. I’m still mad at her too.

Chris pulled you in for another kiss, running his hands through your hair. “I know. I plan on making it up to you. I’ll help with every event; I’ll clean up your messy office. I’ll even carrying you and your toys through the slush.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and pull him down with you to lay on the couch. “I can’t wait for you to get started.”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans x you #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #writing challenge #ssholidaychallenge #redwrites

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lady-une · 3 years ago

Text

They Always Leave

This is something I wrote just to process my feelings about a guy. Nothing fanfic related at all. Honestly probably just a pile of emotions horribly written. But if you read it enjoy. It made me cry.

Trigger warning that this does mention drug use but honestly this stuff isn’t a drug.

Loud laughter and music could easily have been heard by anyone who happened to drive by or park near the crazy looking Toyota. For inside the Toyota held three friends, who were just doing their normal Scooby gang shit of smoking and listening to music. Their bellies were full having just engorged themselves on wings, cheese curds, and waffle fries.

The night was setting up to be a normal night for the trio, nothing to crazy. The only thing out of the ordinary was that a special appearance was to be made by a man who once partook in these normal nights. A man who’s laughter lifted one of the girls spirit. A man who did stupid shit all the time just to make people laugh. A man who’s darkness matched Alice’s. He was everything she wanted all rolled up in one stupid motherfucker.

When Alice had first met Caleb he was just some random guy who had tagged along with another guy her best friend had been seeing. Everyone knew of him as alibi, he was just some stupid redneck man. Not at all what Alice was attracted to. Yet the more time she spent with him the more that stupid redneck grew on her. She told herself it was nothing, chalked her emotions up to him just being a challenge. She knew he didn’t like big girls, he preferred his woman small and red headed. It was fine, everyone had their preference in a mate. Hell Alice had her own and this man didn’t hit any requirement.

But something changed. The playful teasing and remarks changed. She started to see him differently. An attraction started to slowly build deep in her gut. Small little hugs became more. Being so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek as they spoke silly things to one another about what they were doing. The urge to kiss him started to grow. The day dreams of him professing his attraction started to become recurring. The way he looked at her, it made her second guess everything. Was that smile different? Did he always follow me with his eyes? She started to ask around to see if anyone else had noticed anything or if it was all in her girly imagination. Some said he was just being friendly and a few said he probably had feelings too.

Alice had a way of showing her affection. Some call it a love language but in all honesty it was just childhood trauma and her way of trying to buy affection. To keep someone from leaving, because Alice knew they all left in the end. She had slowly started to gift him things. It started out small, a sex toy since he had been in a two year dry spell. She had taped it up with two containers of gorilla tape. She had joked saying it was to mimic being at a bar and having to work for that piece of ass. Then she had found out his favorite beer. Of course it would be a seasonal one, just like her who had a love of a hard to find seasonal liquor. She checked daily for the beer to come in stock and finally when it did she bought 3 cases knowing it wouldn’t last long but it would put a smile on his face.

For his birthday she had requested the day off work. The idea had formed to drive the hour long drive to his job and tape his truck up with clear wrap and then attach birthday balloons. Then meet him and his friend Greg at the bar for a birthday lunch. There she would give him his gift, a shirt. Nothing extravagant, just one from his favorite online brands that supported the troops. Yet that whole plan had been lost. Gone in an instant. Lies and deceit had caused her to part ways with her once close friend Greg. Caleb was a causality as her best friend had called it. Alice hated it, she didn’t want to part from Caleb.

The birthday shirt had sat days in her room at the end of her bed. Still in the delivery packaging. Alice would have just dropped it off in the bed of his truck had she known his address. Instead after a night of smoking and drinking she had finally texted him. Letting him know she had his gift, letting him know how much she missed him. With the dawn of the next day came sobriety and realization of how stupid she was. Quickly opening the chat she saw he had not seen the messages, this was her chance to right the wrong. With a click of her finger she unsent the messages to Caleb. It wasn’t until later in the day that Caleb had finally opened the chat up and saw that she had unsent the messages and called her out on it.

Alice confessed that she had texted him some stupid ramblings about the boxing match she had seen. A bold face lie but there was no way in hell she would confess her feelings to him sober. Instead she lied and then asked to meet so she could give him his birthday gift early. He had agreed to meet her while she was out with her friends. A quick drive by and it would be fine. Or that’s what Alice had told herself.

The margarita she had in the restaurant had calmed her nerves. The devils lettuce she was smoking had made her even more calm. This would be fine, she repeated her mantra “it’s fine” over and over in her head. A quick in and out.

It wasn’t long before she received the text that he was pulling up and asked where to park. She told him to look for the Yoda mobile and loud music. He replied back with a simple “LOL” and then she heard his loud truck before she saw it. Looking at her friends she smiled before getting out of the car with the gift. Caleb had parked two spots to the left of car and was climbing out of it by the time she reached him. The man wore his standard wranglers and brown boots with his KORN t-shirt and hat.

Alice laughed before nervously saying, “I should have bet on KORN instead of the fuck your feelings shirt.”

“That shirt was dirty, this was the nearest shirt.” Caleb replied with a half smile on his face.

Alice looked up at him trying to decipher what his eyes were possibly saying behind his dark sunglasses. A memory of a time earlier that summer where she yelled at him to take those damn shades off so she can see that he was looking at her while she talked to him popped in her head. To an outsider it would look like she was being mean to him but that was how they were. They would loudly bicker and cuss one another out with a smile on their faces.

“Well now you have a new shirt. Sorry I didn’t get you those jeans you wanted, you know shit just got weird and I felt weird texting you to ask about the jeans.”

“You didn’t have to.” Caleb replied as he took the colorfully bright pink Disney princess bag from Alice’s outstretched hand. He looked at the bag and back to her with a smile.

“Don’t give me that look, I saw it at target and the damn thing screamed ‘Caleb’ so I had to buy it. Now go on and open it!”

Caleb shook his head as he opened the bag up, sifting through the pink and blue tissue paper Alice had stuffed into it. When Caleb finally had the shirt in hand he tossed the princess bag into the bed of his truck and unfolded the shirt to hold it up and inspect it.

“I fucking love it Alice!” He shouted as he looked at the shirt that had bullets in the shape of a hand flicking you off.

“I wasn’t sure if I should get that one or the one with all the fish on it that said size matters. But Greg said to get this one.”

“Well I love it, thank you!”

Caleb opened his arms and Alice fell right into them wrapping her arms around his back and taking comfort in his hold. It had been too long since she got to hold her favorite person. She often dreamt of him holding her and it felt just as good as her dreams.

“Come on Alice, say your goodbyes. He is a casualty.” Yelled out Alice’s best friend from the back of the Toyota affectively killing Alice’s moment with Caleb.

“Casualty?” Caleb asked.

Alice pulled away but held on with just one hand to his KORN shirt, “Just ignore her.”

“Mmmhmm. How are things going with that?” Caleb inquired.

Before Alice could give him an answer her other friend yelled from the driver seat in his Yoda voice “Say your goodbyes and lets go.”

Alice looked from Caleb to her friends in the car and stomped her foot as she yelled “I wanna keep this one!”

The car of friends broke out in a laughter knowing that she was referencing a TikTok they had all seen hundreds of times. They thought she was being funny, they knew she had a crush on Caleb but she had meant it. She didn’t want him to be a casualty. She wanted him to stay in her life.

“You should probably get going, I don’t wanna hold you up.” Caleb said with a slight chuckle.

“I don’t want to. Can’t you stay awhile?” Alice asked looking up at him through her sunglasses. She could feel the tears wanting to come but held them back.

“You know I cant.”

“Please.” She begged.

“I have to get home.”

“Live a little.”

“I do live a lot but just not with you.”

“Same excuse every time.”

“Get going now before they leave your ass.”

Alice grabbed on to his shirt with the other hand. “I don’t want to.”

The tears were welling up inside her eyes, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold off. She hated crying in front of people. She saw it as a weakness. The many years as a child being told to stop crying or she would be given a reason to cry. Then as an adult being told by the man she was seeing that crying was a weakness and that she need to toughen up and that she wasn’t allowed to cry and be weak. She knew it was perfectly fine to cry and it was not a weakness. It was something that she told her kids all the time when they felt sad. That it was normal to cry and that you should cry and work through your emotions. Yet it was something she preached but never practiced herself. She had four kids at home to watch over, she didn’t have time to be weak.

“Thank you for the gift Alice, I really do like it.” Caleb said as he held onto one of her arms.

“I’m glad you do.” The first traitorous tear slip passed her eyes and she knew the instant Caleb saw it because his face lost all playfulness.

“Alice…” he gently called her name.

“I know its stupid. You don’t gotta tell me that. But I know the minute I let go and you get in your truck I wont see you again. All those plans we had will be gone. Who will take me to the gun shop to buy my first gun? Who will make sure that the sales man doesn’t take advantage of me? Who will help me learn to shoot it correctly? Why couldn’t you like me? God I sound like a stupid female right now. But we would have been great together you know. You matched my level of darkness, we matched each other in so many ways.”

“Alice..”

“You know it. They know it. Everyone knows it. Everyone always said that we should just get together but we both would just laugh but deep down I wanted it. God did I want it but you just couldn’t get past that I was a bigger girl. Boy do I feel fucking stupid on an epic proportion right now.”

“Alice everyone has their preference, you always said we were friends because you knew I didn’t like you like that.”

“Of course I did because I didn’t wanna lose you. Better to be friends then not have you in my life. Funny how now I wont even have that.”

The tears were freely falling at this point. Alice could no longer hold her head high, instead she looked down at the ground. She couldn’t look at that stupid face of his, that face that she knew would haunt her dreams for many days to come.

“Alice you will find someone so much better then me. My stupid ass wouldn’t make the best partner for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Look at me Alice.”

Alice shook her head, how could she look at him she was feeling pathetic at the moment. Crying because a man doesn’t want her. Caleb didn’t give her a chance to wallow in her own misery, he put his new shirt on the side of his truck bed and grabbed her face lifting it up to his. He lifted her sunglasses and looked at her tear stained face.

“Don’t cry Alice.”

“Shut up you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Caleb took his thumbs and brushed the tears away from her eyes. “I’m not someone to cry about.”

“To me you are.”

“You gotta let me go Alice. Move on. It was fun while it lasted and we will always have our memories.”

“Do they teach you these bullshit excuses when you guys are in school? I swear it’s the same fucking thing just said by a different guy.” Alice yelled angrily through her tears.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Don’t tell me what to feel.”

“Then don’t act like a spoiled brat.”

“Then don’t act like an ass who is un-attracted to fat women.”

“We aren’t going to get anywhere on this. Please don’t be mad and please don’t cry over me.”

Alice knew she was being mad because she was hurt and that she shouldn’t be. She knew she should be enjoying these last few moments with Caleb. With shaky hands Alice reached for Caleb’s sunglasses and lifted them up to see his face. Caleb was an expert at hiding his feelings, years in the military had made him hard.

“Why did you do it Alice?” Caleb quietly asked.

“You act like I did it on purpose. I didn’t plan on falling for you. If you weren’t so fucking perfect and if your darkness didn’t call to mine we would be safe.”

“I’m sorry Alice.”

“Me too Caleb.” Alice whispered as more tears fell down her face and she stood on her tippy toes to give him a chaste kiss at the edge of his lips.

Alice tried to smile through her tears and pulled away allowing him room to get back into his truck. With him seated in his truck Caleb rolled down the window and said goodbye before pulling away. Alice watched as the man she wanted nothing more did what all men do…..leave.

#Emotions #heart ache #broken heart #dating

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