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partypontius · 3 years ago

Note

write me the most smut amazing story about bam. also make it sweet tho pls omg 💔

hi! i love that people request sweet bam because i feel that no one appreciates that idea of him enough! (also, smut is lowkey new to me so pls excuse that lmao)

You’re Mine~ bam margera x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex!!, oral sex!!, swearing, fluff, cute baby bam, and i think that’s it!

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word count: 2793 (its a long one oops)

Bam was an entirely different person away from the Jackass set. To viewers, he seemed as though he was an angsty, angry human being. He has that “skater boy” persona, and he seemed like he hated the world. The truth is, he did hate the world. He hated how people treated him, and he hated how the fame that he acquired was making him feel. People were practically throwing themselves at him, and he never wanted any of that. He just wanted to be loved. He wanted to be loved by someone that loved him for who he was, and not his reputation.

You lived in apartment 382, right next to him. You heard his music, and you heard him during his most vulnerable moments. You heard and witnessed the side of him that no one else saw. Being neighbors, you got the chance to develop a close friendship with him. You would consistently go over to his apartment to share drinks and hang out. You loved his presence, you loved seeing him in his most genuine form, you loved him.

One day, you heard him coming home, his vans stomping up the wooden stairs. His door slammed, and all you heard was yelling. He began yelling obscenities and throwing things against the wall, causing a commotion that caused you to become worried. You sat quietly in your small apartment for a few moments before making the decision to check on him.

You walked outside and stood in front of his door. Your eyes scanned the number on his door, 383, wondering if it was truly the best idea to knock on his door. You did not know if it would upset him, or if you would even be able to help him at all. What could it hurt?

You slowly raised your hand up to knock on his beige-colored door. You knocked three times and waited for an answer. You only heard his music grow louder and a loud crash that shortly followed. You heard him scream, and it was one of the most heartbreaking sounds you had ever heard. You knocked again. only louder, desperately wishing for an answer from the boy next door. Again, there was no answer.

You put your hand on the doorknob and twisted it, finding that he had left his door unlocked. You slowly opened his door, only to find nothing short of a wreck. It looked as though a tornado had run through his apartment. There were broken bottles of liquor all over the floor, papers scattered everywhere. It looked absolutely awful, and you hated to think that you were looking at a visual representation of how he was feeling. You stepped inside, being careful to avoid anything that may hurt you. You slowly approached him, but he had no idea that you were even there. His music was playing so loudly that you could barely even hear what he was saying. His elbows were resting on his kitchen countertop and his head was resting in his hands. You walked around to where his speaker was, and you slowly started to lower the volume. His head shot up in surprise because he had no idea that you had come in.

"Oh my God, y/n, I had no idea that you were here."

You had practically shut off the speaker when you finally said, "I heard crashing noises and loud music and I was worried about you. I knocked on your door and there was no answer, so I opened your door since it was unlocked."

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just got a little angry after today," he let out a breathy, nervous laugh.

"Well, talk about it. Maybe it will help to let it out."

"I don't know, y/n. It'll probably just make it worse."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I just wanted to offer it in case you did," you gave him a soft smile while walking towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently moved your thumb back and forth. You moved your hand back down to your side when you noticed Bam's bloody hand. There was bright red blood dripping onto the hardwood floor below him.

"Shit, Bam, you're bleeding," you grabbed his hand to discover where it was coming from. "Here, let me help you."

You walked to the bathroom and told him to sit down. He sat on the lid of the toilet as he watched you find different things that would help cover his wound. After you had found everything that you needed, you crouched down in front of him. You began to clean his wound and bandage it. He intently watched you as his mind slipped away, thinking about everything that had caused him to act so angrily before.

"This may sting," you said. Your words brought him back to reality. You but some sort of cream over his hand and he hissed as a sharp pain struck his hand.

"You're being kinda quiet. Are you thinking about something?" you asked him. He was never this quiet, so you knew that something was wrong.

He said nothing, and you had begun to worry more. You did not know whether you should say something else, or if you should just let it be. You decided that if he wanted to talk, he would. You finished bandaging his hand and looked up at him. "All done," you smiled.

He just gave you a blank stare, and you asked again, "Bam, are you okay? You're really worrying me."

Tears began to form in his beautiful blue eyes. You put your hand on his cheek and wiped away the tears that had begun to fall. You gave him a soft smile as he brought his hands up to his head.

“Dammit, I just don’t know what to do. The all-mighty Bam Margera, badass Jackass star is fucking crying on his bathroom floor.” He sobbed, letting all the emotions he had built up for so long flow out.

"Bam, it's okay. Talk to me."

"I fucking hate everything, y/n. I hate the fame, I hate girls that throw themselves at me, I hate this person that everyone thinks I am. I hate everything. No one sees this shit. No one sees what being in this business does. I'm fucking sick of it." He sobbed.

You wrapped him in a tight hug. He rested his head in the crook of your neck. His warm tears were dampening your shirt as you pulled him closer. He needed someone to be there for him, and you were determined to be that person.

He wrapped his arms around you and his breathing finally started to slow. He gathered himself and his feelings and pulled away from the embrace to look at you once again.

"I wish they were all more like you, y/n."

You felt your face heat up at his comment. "What do you mean by that?"

His cheeks turned the lightest shade of red. "I mean that none of them see this side. None of them care about any of this. You are the only one that cares enough about me to be sitting here. I hate people that just want to fuck me because they want to fuck. I don't want that shit."

"What do you want, then?"

He looked at you and brought his left hand up to cup your face. He didn't say anything for a moment. He only looked into your eyes, watching your face change. He slowly leaned in and connected your lips with his.

He pulled away with uncertainty as to how you would react. Truthfully, you had waited for that moment for an extremely long time. Now that it was happening, you had no clue what to do. You let your body take over, putting your lips on his once again.

You pulled away to look at him. "Shit, I didn't mean to-" he cut off your sentence with a deeper, more passionate kiss. Both of his hands now rested on either side of your face.

This version of him was one that you rarely ever saw. He never let these emotions surface.

He pulled away to look at you once again. "You know, I've loved you for a long time now, y/n."

You smiled at him and said, "I've liked you for a while now, too."

He laughed. "Wow, just "liked" me. Damn, I sit here and tell you that I love you and that's all I get."

You laughed as well. "Well, it is what it is, Margera. That's the way the cookie crumbles, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders.

"So, you don't love me?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, trust me. I like you a lot," you laughed again, knowing this would soon start getting to him.

"Well, hell. I'm being played. Dammit, y/n," he laughed.

"I'm just kidding, Bam," your tone of voice changed. You were more serious as you said, "I have truly loved you since the first time we ever hung out together. That's cringy as fuck, but it's true."

"I like cringy," he laughed. "If I didn't, I wouldn't hang out with you as much."

Your mouth dropped open as you let out a breathy laugh. "What the hell? You expect me to just sit here and take this?"

"I mean, that's exactly what you're doing," he laughed again. "I'm just joking, y/n, you know that."

"You sounded pretty serious. Sounds to me like you're faking this 'I love you' shit."

"I'm not faking it, asshole." he grinned.

"If you aren't faking it, then prove it."

His body took over before his mind could rationalize his actions. He slammed his lips against yours. He pushed you against a wall and grabbed your face with his hands. This time, he was much rougher, but that did not bother you in the slightest.

He reached down and pulled the bathroom door open, which led directly to his bedroom. He stayed connected to your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. His hands found your hips as he guided you to his bed. The back of your legs brushed up against his black sheets, and you carefully sat down.

He pulled away from you for a moment and stood straight up. He pulled off the band t-shirt that he was wearing and immediately found your lips again. He pushed you back, to where you were laying down, but your legs were hanging off of the edge of his bed.

You were in shock that this was even happening. The boy you have quietly chased after for so long is finally here doing this to you. He was on top of you, and he wanted you. He wanted you.

He gently made his way down to the sweet spot on your neck, sucking just enough to leave a light bruise. You ran your fingers through his dark curls, and tugged. He started to move his hips back and forth, creating friction between the two of you.

He pulled away from your neck and rested his forehead against your own. Your breathing sped up, and your hands caressed his back. His hands made their way down to the hem of your shirt and began to tug. You arched your back up to allow him to take your shirt off. He lifted it off of your back, and then placed his right hand behind or shoulders. He lifted you up just enough to pull the shirt over your head. He threw it to the floor, and found his way to your lips once again.

Your breathing only continued to speed up, and he could hardly bare it. He pulled away to look at you and said, "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?"

"Fuck, Bam," you groaned.

"Tell me what you want, y/n. Use your words."

Your breath hitched, "You."

"Good."

He kissed you again, and his hands found the waist of your pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. He slowly slid them off, leaving you in only your bra and underwear.

"Fuck, y/n, you're so fucking pretty." You could feel him grow on top of you. You grinned, knowing that you were the person that was doing that to him.

You did not say another word. You kissed him again, this time taking the lead. You end up flipping to have yourself on top. You pull away and let your hands find his belt. You unbuckle it and proceed to unbutton and unzip his black jeans.

He groans under his breath because now every part of him is exposed. Your eyes widen, realizing that this is his most vulnerable state. You realize that he is letting you in, and he wants you to see him in this state.

You look at him and bring your hands behind you. You unclasp your bra, leaving your upper half completely bare. You then stand up, sliding the last piece of clothing that remains on your body off. He lays there and watches you, in complete awe. He admires you so much and thinks you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

You climb back on top, lining yourself up with him. He grabs your hips and smiles, giving you a cue to let you know that it's okay. You lower yourself onto him, and he groans in pleasure. You arch your head back, finally being able to feel him.

He grabs your hips and takes control of your movements, moving you up and down. He bucks his hips up to match the rhythm in which he is moving you. You decide to take control of your own actions and speed up the pace, causing him to whisper obscenities under his breath.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck." He could hardly bear it. He grabbed your sides and flipped you both over once more. Now he was on top, and he was in control.

He began sliding himself in and out with a steady rhythm. You brought your hands up to his shoulders and pulled him closer to you. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he continued to keep the steady rhythm. You kissed his neck, causing him to whimper.

You bucked your hips up, causing him to go even deeper. You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours. You moan into his mouth, causing him to do the same.

"Fuck, Bam, I'm close," you say in between words.

"I am, too" he replies.

He brings his hand up to your face and brushes a stray piece of hair away. He smiles at you as he slows his rhythm just a bit. You grip his shoulders and dig your nails into his back.

"Cum for me, please, y/n," he says. With that sentence, you let go. You pull him as close to you as he could possibly get. You shake and tremble as your high begins to fade.

Bam was struggling to keep it together. He looked at you as you orgasmed, and said, "Does that feel good, baby?"

You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile. "Yeah, it does."

"Since you've been such a good girl for me, you can help me finish. How about that?"

You nodded, realizing what he wanted you to do. He pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed as you got onto the floor. You put your mouth around his dick and put it all the way in. With only a few times of repeating this action, Bam had his fingers in your hair. He was bucking his hips, causing him to go deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck, don't stop," he groaned. "Please, god, don't stop."

A few more seconds, and he was finishing in your mouth. His hands ran through your hair, and he pulled you back up to lay in the bed with him. You climbed back up into bed with him as he held his arm out, waiting for you to lay beside him.

You turned to face him and you couldn't get the grin off of your face. You felt so whole and realized that you were happy where you were. Little did you know, but he felt the same way, too. You brought your hand up to his face and placed a light kiss on his lips.

"So, does this mean that I'm officially yours?" you asked him, rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

"You're mine," he smiled.

------

WOO! what a doozy! i hope you liked it, and please request more if you like! thanks for requesting! much love <3

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castthy-nightedcolour · 4 years ago

Text

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

#good omens #good omens fic #aziraphale x reader #reader insert #comfort fic #aziraphale loves your soul #guardian angel #gender neutral reader #good omens one shot #good omens x reader

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the third day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!

This story contains swearing and two idiots in love.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

“No.”

The word comes out of your mouth before you can even attempt to stop it.

“Shit,” he says in reply.

The couple at the table next to you glance up before quickly looking away, not wanting to be caught and embarrassed on their special night. You don’t care at all, though, because you’ve been set up on a blind date with Jim fucking Hopper.

The most irritating man in the entire universe.

The exact same thoughts seem to be running through his mind because his jaw is moving and he’s staring at you. Stood there in a fucking beige (is that linen?) suit with a Hawaiian shirt on underneath, hair combed, beard trimmed. And he’s staring at you like you’re the anomaly here.

I’m gonna kill Jodie.

Raising your eyebrows, your hands lift.

“Right. Well. There’s obviously been a mistake here.”

“You think?” His eyebrows are also rising, hands going to his hips.

Even though you despise him, that irks you.

“Okay, so, you can just go, then.” You sit back down, hands returning to the menu you’d dropped on the table in your sudden standing.

“Me?”

You glance up at him, his tone and indignation surprising you. “Yeah. Bye.”

Your eyes drop back to the menu, looking at it but not exactly reading because he’s not moving.

“Uh, and why me?”

I’m dealing with a fucking child.

Lips parting, you look up at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it is.

“Because I was here first?”

Hopper snorts, arching an eyebrow. “What, you gonna eat on your own?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah, I’m going to eat on my own on Valentine’s Day and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Who even sets two people up on a date on Valentine’s Day?!

Before you can even think about looking at the menu again, Hopper scoffs.

“Well, I don’t want to go, you go.”

“No,” you shoot back incredulously, face twisting like you’ve tasted something sour.

He stares at you. And then he shrugs.

“Fine.”

Gripping the back of the chair opposite you, he pulls it back and sits in it.

“Oh my God,” you hiss, “Go and sit somewhere else.”

Adjusting his suit jacket, he then casts a hand around, gesturing at the restaurant. “Can’t you see it’s busy here? I’m not gonna find another seat.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

Then, he lifts up his menu and peruses it, a finger tapping against his lips. You just stare at him, feeling hot with frustration and irritation. Yes, you could just leave and buy something from the store on the way home and settle in for a cosy night, but you’d so been looking forward to a night out in a nice restaurant and some stimulating conversation from someone Jodie had said was perfect for you.

Perfect for you.

PERFECT FOR YOU.

That’s all you’d manage to get out of her about your date, apart from that it was on Valentine’s Day at Enzo’s and the employees there were aware of what kind of date it was.

You just can’t stop staring at him as he casually flicks through the menu while you quietly simmer with anger. This is why he gets under your skin so much; he’s just so stubborn. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you force yourself to browse your own menu, even though you already know what you’re going to order. You’d arrived early, hating the idea of being flustered by trying to locate your date, and he’d... well, he’d arrived on time actually.

A pleasant surprise, but not enough to soothe your skin that prickles at the mere mention of him. Your friends and colleagues just laugh when the topic comes up.

Hop’? Hopper? The charming Chief of the town? Heart of gold underneath all that gruffness? Those big, strong arms and that flirty mouth? How could you not like him?

Well, you just... don’t. No reason. He’s not done anything to you, not said anything, you just... don’t. You can’t even really remember the first time you spoke to him when you moved here. Was it at a bar? The diner? You just remember the feeling when a friend had introduced you; prickly skin and a flipping stomach. His attitude towards you had left you feeling strange, too; you remember that he was blunt and eager to get away, barely looking you in the eye.

What an asshole.

... But, yeah, all right, maybe you had found him attractive, but then you’d seen him in bars picking up enthusiastically willing women left, right and centre and it had just... irked you, considerably.

Who does he think he is? I bet he thought whoever he was meeting tonight was going to be another one, that she’d be completely bowled over and was going to fall at his feet. Well, absolutely not, no thank you.

Every meeting you’ve had since, passing each other on the street, meeting each others gaze at the bar, having to converse in group conversations at parties, standing in line behind each other at the store, has been strained, with him either quickly looking away a little too late, so obviously not wanting to engage with you, or you just flat out ignoring him.

The waiter arrives with a smile which you return, somewhat forced, and if he’s noticed the more than slight tension at the table, he doesn’t let on at all. After he cheerfully takes your order, you then just have to sit and watch Hopper take his sweet time, one leg now balancing on the thick thigh of his other, menu in one large hand, talking to the waiter like he knows him, asking about what’s best and blah, blah, blah.

Crossing your arms, you stare at him, hoping the force of your gaze will somehow will him to hurry up. He glances at you once to just ask, “You want another bread basket?”

“Yes,” you grit out.

What kind of a question is that? Of course you do.

Snapping the menu shut, somehow the smooth motion of it just fuelling your irritation, he smiles at the waiter as he hands it back, and then the waiter leaves... and it’s just you two again.

You watch Hopper’s gaze travel the room, taking in all the laughing, chatting people, most if not all couples. He folds his own arms, the material of the suit stretching over his biceps, and you swiftly look away as his gaze reaches you.

“Guess Jodie’s a shit matchmaker, huh.”

Oh, God... You can’t just ignore him. Well, you can, but you imagine he’d just carry on talking anyway.

Taking a breath, which could be interpreted as exasperated, you nod. “Yeah. Didn’t even know you knew her.”

He shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Wow, she’s had to put up with you that long─”

“What is your problem with me?”

Your mouth remains open, your next word dying on your tongue as you stare at him. It stays open as you point at yourself, eyebrows shooting up, watching him just look at you, expressionless.

“Uh... What? You’re the one who has a problem with me.”

Now he frowns. “Excuse me?”

What.

Are you kidding me.

“Oh, don’t look so affronted, you always seem so irritated when I’m around and that you hope you don’t get stuck talking to me.”

He scoffs, but doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just makes half-laughing, half-astonished sounds. “... Me? I seem like that? You look at me like I’m the shit on your shoe!”

“If that’s true it’s only because of how you look at me.”

“And how do I look at you?” He says the words accusingly, challenging you, and it throws you for a moment because do his thoughts not influence his expressions?

It’s your turn to scoff as your eyebrows rise. “You... You look at me like...”

Nothing comes out of your mouth, every single encounter with him flashing through your mind, the filter of pre-conceived irritation and notions falling away.

Oh, no...

The times he’s looked away quickly after you’ve met his gaze... Not out of not wanting to engage but... not wanting to be caught looking. His curtness the few times you have spoken, not out of rudeness or wanting to get away, but because of awkwardness in your presence. The fact he’s sat down and has stayed.

Even the way he’d said ‘You think?’ minutes before... not said sarcastically, but stated. Asking you.

And he... he looks at you with tender eyes.

Oh my God...

Hopper shifts in his chair as he clears his throat, your thoughts and realisations most likely playing out across your features.

“... Uh...” Your mouth is still open, too, not knowing what to say.

I’ve been such an idiot.

He’s pushing his fork around on the table-cloth with his finger, waiting for whatever you’re going to say, probably expecting to be shot down or for you to laugh. Instead, you give him the truth.

“... I don’t have a problem with you, really... I just thought you had one with me.” Your voice comes out a lot quieter than you’d intended, but very much sheepish.

His head shakes as his jaw moves slightly, but there’s a light smile on his lips, and his gaze finally lifts to meet yours again; boldly and openly.

The tenderness is there.

“No. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Okay.” The single word leaves you quietly, and something deep inside you relaxes.

“Do you want me to go?” he says, just as quiet as you had, and it’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

Licking your lips, you shake your head. “No. No, I’d... I’d like you stay. I think we should start this all over again.”

Hopper nods a few times, his smile lingering.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

You find you’re smiling as well, your fingers lacing together in your lap.

“All right... What do you wanna talk about?”

—

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#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x female reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #stranger things fanfic #my writing #flamehairedwritings #again i hope this is all right lads #my dissociation is wild atm so who knows what i've written not me

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demxters · 4 years ago

Text

Falling

jj maybank x reader

request: Can you write a jj imagine based on falling by harry styles like he goes to your house and is telling you how he feels and there is flashbacks to what happened between the two of you with fluff at the end

word count: 3.0k

warnings: swearing

a/n: ok, so i got carried away with this one, but i couldn’t help it, i’m a sucker for jj maybank. anyways, this was my first song request and y’all are probably gonna hate me for saying i’ve never listened to any harry styles until this request but i loved the fine line album sm i listened to the whole album twice over while writing this.

(gif credit @rudypankows)

***

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

JJ can’t sleep. He’s been laying in bed for hours, staring at the beige ceiling in his room illuminated by moonlight, the only sound he could hear being his dad’s snores and the light breeze of the Outer Banks. He couldn’t sleep because he can’t stop thinking about what you said that night. He turns on his side, gripping the sheets of his bed. He closes his eyes for a moment pretending that he’s with you, in your room where he should be. He imagines the sound of your laugh when he tells you yet another corny joke, your beautiful y/h/c hair splayed out on your pillow and your eyes crinkling in delight. But he knows he can’t face you now, not after what he said.

______

“Stop saying that! How can you say that when I’ve brought you nothing but hurt? You got caught in the middle of a fight because of me! Doesn’t that say enough?” JJ’s voice echoes through your empty house as you follow him through the front door. He has one hand in his hair, the other holding a half empty beer bottle. He moved from pacing in your room to pacing on the front porch. He takes another swig of his beer, shaking his head. “All of this, all of this is bullshit.”

“JJ,” you say softly, tears filling your eyes. You slowly continue walking towards him on the porch, afraid that any sudden movements would scare him away. “I meant everything I said back there. I love you. I love you so much that it physically hurts to even look at you sometimes. Do you think that seeing you battered and bruised doesn’t make me angry? That it doesn’t make me want to storm over to your house and confront him myself? Everything I do for you is because I care.” You pause to take a breath. “As for thinking you bring me nothing but hurt? I would go through it all if it meant being with you at the end of the day.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. He just looks away from you to hide the tears that are now threatening to spill down his face.

“Because you don’t deserve to go through this alone. No one deserves to go through what you’re going through alone. I love you too much to put you through any of that by yourself. So please, JJ, just let me in.” You’re fully crying now. The apples of your cheeks are sticky and damp from all the tears.

“I need to go,” is all he says walking down your front porch steps.

“JJ!” you exclaim, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further.

He turns to face you. “Let me go, Y/N. Let me go and don’t even try coming after me. I don’t need this,” he says gesturing between the both of you, “right now. I don’t need any of it.”

You watch him go through tears and a tear in your heart.

_______

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin'

What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin'

JJ sits up, turning to his bedside table. 11:28, his clock reads. JJ groans, just wanting the night to be over. He meant none of the stuff he said to you that night. He was just so afraid of how fast he was falling for you that he did the only thing he knew to do, he pushed you away. JJ wanted nothing more than to go to your house right now and take you in his arms, apologizing over and over for what he said. To kiss you with all he’s got and tell you that he loves you too. But there’s a voice in the back of his head telling him that you hate him. That you hate the person he’s become. And he believes it.

_____

You said you care, and you missed me too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

And the coffee's out at the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've ran out of things we can say

The day after your fight with JJ, you were hesitant to join the others at the Chateau, knowing that he was going to be there as well. His words hurt, but nothing hurt more than knowing that things between you two would never be the same again. If only you weren't such an idiot and kept your feelings to yourself then you wouldn’t even be in this position in the first place. Dreading the idea of seeing JJ again you called Kie telling her that you couldn’t make it today.

“What? Why not?” she asked.

“I’m just not feeling it, s’all,” you say softly into the phone.

“Is this about JJ? Because if this is about JJ, Y/N, then I swear to god-”

You called Kiara last night and told her about what happened between you and JJ knowing she was the only one who you could talk to about it. “Yes, this is about JJ, Kie. I can’t see him right now. It just hurts too much. As much as I miss him, I can’t. I can’t put myself through that right now.”

“Ok,” Kiara says, hearing the pain in your voice. “But please call me if you need anything at all ok? I’ll drop anything the boys decide to do today if you need me.”

“Thanks Kie, love you,” you say with a sniff, wanting to cry.

“Love you. And take care of yourself, ok?”

“Ok.” You hang up the phone and bury yourself back into your covers, just wanting to disappear. You wipe your face with your shirt catching a quick whiff of its scent only to realize that it’s his. It was one of the shirts he left at your house after staying the night. The smell of weed, sunscreen, and his musky cologne fill your nose and you can’t help but cry even more.

***

At around four in the afternoon, you decide to go to Heyward’s to buy some ice cream after finding out that your mom ate it all. You change out of your sweat pants and into some jean shorts, unconsciously leaving JJ’s shirt on.

You enter Heyward’s with a small smile of content. Heyward’s always felt like a place you could take refuge in since you spent so much time there working with Pope. Heading toward the ice cream aisle, you accidentally bump into a body causing them to drop what they were holding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say, picking up the pack of beer cans that fell to the floor.

“Y/N?”

Oh, god. You knew that voice. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see him staring down at you with wide blue eyes.

You thrust the cans of beer back into his hand before ushering past him wanting to get out of there as fast as possible.

“Y/N! Wait!” JJ exclaims. “Can we just talk, please?”

You stop in your tracks. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you say, coldly. Not even turning your back to look at him you walk away.

JJ stands there, alone, wanting nothing but for you to come back. But he knows you won’t. He knows how stubborn you can be. It’s then that his worst fear comes true for he just lost the one person he cared about the most.

_______

And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again

What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

He looks over to his bedside table to see that barely any time has passed since he last checked, the clock only reading 11:35. He can’t stop thinking about the way you didn’t even move a muscle when he last saw you at Heyward’s. That the second you knew it was him you bumped into, you acted as if you guys had never been friends at all. And he can’t blame you, if he were being honest. He’d hate him too if he were in your position. But he couldn’t take any of that back now. It’s been two weeks since the last time JJ has seen you. You didn’t want to see him, you made that much clear. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. JJ’s talked to Kie every once in a while about how you were doing. She told him that you were slowly getting back to your regular self, eating, getting out of the house, helping Pope with the groceries and hanging out at the Chateau every once in a while. It hurt to know that you were still seeing everyone, but what did he expect? He had his chance and he ruined it. The pain was just getting too much for him to handle. He wanted you back. He wanted to be back in your presence that made him feel safe, loved and cared for. He wanted to be resting his head on your lap while you ran your hand through his hair. He just wanted you.

JJ bolts up from his bed, puts on his shoes, and is out the door in record time. He doesn’t even think twice about where his feet were taking him, knowing the route to your house like the back of his hand.

______

JJ stands at your window for a moment, unsure of whether he should even bother to knock knowing you’ve been avoiding him for two weeks straight. No, he thinks to himself, He needs you now more than ever. So he pushes all his doubts and fears aside and raps the familiar tune that you two use to let the other know that they’re there.

You sit up in your bed, immediately recognizing the knocks on your window. After two weeks of avoiding him, you couldn’t believe he was here. You hesitate for a moment, thinking if you should continue your act of ignorance or if you should let him in. You choose the latter. You’ve just missed your blonde haired boy too much.

You pull off your covers and slide open your window. You then step out of the way so JJ has room to climb in.

He just stands there staring at you from the shock that you opened the window for him, but also to take his time to admire you for he hasn’t seen you in so long. Your hair was slightly mussed and you had your arms crossed over your chest. He didn’t think anyone could look so beautiful wearing faded pajamas with a scowl on their face.

“So are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come in?” You ask, finally breaking the silence.

JJ makes his way into the room as gracefully as he can, though he knocks his foot on the window sill and face plants right onto the floor.

It takes everything in you to not laugh or crack a smile at the sight of him face down on your floor. You quickly move to shut the window and walk back to your bed, sitting on the edge. “What are you doing here, JJ?”

“I needed to see you,” he says, getting up off the floor. “Y/N, I made the biggest mistake of my life telling you I didn’t want this.” He makes his way over to you and sits next to you on the bed. JJ’s so close that you’re sitting knee to knee and you can smell the weed on his clothes.

“JJ, I completely get if you don’t feel the same way,” you whisper. “You just really hurt me with what you said. I mean I thought I scared you off so bad that you didn’t even want to be friends anymore,” you say with a scoff.

“Y/N, that’s the thing. I do feel the same way. God, looking at you physically hurts sometimes too. Because I look at you, and it’s like time stops. Like nothing else in this world even matters. I see you and only you.”

“JJ-” you try to say, but he only shushes you and grabs your hand in his. He leans forward, placing his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“Please, let me finish,” he opens his eyes to look into yours as if waiting for your confirmation.

You bite your lip and slightly nod your head.

JJ takes a deep breath before closing his eyes once more. “You are the only thing that matters in this life, the only thing that keeps me from losing my shit 90% of the time,” he lets out a light laugh before continuing. “And I know I have the Pogues but it just isn’t the same when I’m with you. It’s better. With you, I feel like I could do anything, beat anything that stands in my way. You make me want to become a better person because the guy that I am right now is shit.”

You squeeze his hand, trying to silently tell him that’s not true. That he’s everything you could ever want.

He squeezes your hand back. Thank you, the action conveys. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who could provide you with a life better than this one. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because how could someone like me ever be loved? My mom didn’t love me enough to stay and you already know about my dad, so why should you? So I pushed you away. I was afraid that if I let you love me I’d only lose you in the end, just like I lost everyone else.” JJ scoffs. “Some plan that was, huh? I ended up losing you anyway.” He opens his eyes to look at you and he’s a goner. The tears stream down his cheeks like a leaking faucet, no end in sight.

“Oh, JJ,” you whisper. Your heart breaks for the boy in front of you. You wanted nothing more than to love him more than anyone’s ever loved. To make him feel like he deserves to be loved, because in your eyes, how could anyone not love him? You pull him into your arms wrapping one arm around his back and using the other to press his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. He continues to sob into your shoulder making your shirt a little damp, but you don’t care. “JJ, you never lost me,” you softly say, rubbing your hand up and down his back while running your other hand through his hair. “I will always be right here.”

JJ pulls himself from your shoulder and takes your face in his hands. He wipes away the tears streaming down your face as you’ve begun to cry as well. He lets out a small laugh at how disoriented yet beautiful you looked in that moment. The tip of your nose was red from crying and he couldn’t help himself but to lean in and press a quick kiss to it.

“You missed,” you whisper.

“What?” JJ asks, looking back into your eyes.

“I said, you missed.” This time, you look from his lips to his gorgeous blue eyes before licking your own.

JJ gets the message and he slowly leans in. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips softly meet yours. He barely applies any pressure to them just slightly pressing into you. You parted your lips and he tilted his head, slightly giving you more access. The feeling of his warm, chapped lips against yours was like a drug as he pulled you against him, deepening the kiss. You ran one of your hands through his hair and rested the other on his jawline. He kept one of his hands on your face while the other moved down to the bare skin of your waist where your shirt rode up a little. His skin on yours sent a shock through your body as he started caressing the skin of your waist with his thumb. As he applies a little more pressure, you gasp at the cold sensation of his rings on your skin. The kiss was slow, yet desperate. Needy, but passionate. Needing air, he finally pulls away, lips red and swollen.

You open your eyes to already see him staring back at you. You rest your forehead against his and lean forward brushing the tip of his nose with yours. “Stay with me tonight?”

JJ smiles for the first time in a while. “Anything for you, my love.”

The two of you climb into your bed. JJ has his back against your chest and you have your arms wrapped around his torso. He holds your hands in front of him and plays with your fingers. You press your face against the back of his head, basking in his familiar scent and presence. You lightly press your lips to the back of his neck and whisper a small, “good night” into his ear.

JJ brings one of your hands to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it before holding it against his lips and whispering an “I love you.”

You let out a contented sigh as you reply, “I love you too. More than you could ever know.”

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

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briefinquiries · 4 years ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Just Friends

Request: "can u write one from luke's pov where he is madly in love with the reader but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that he is just always going to be the readers best friend"

Word count: 5.1k

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @goldenalvez , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @yourwonderbelle , @rachelxwayne , @sc4rletw1tch

Warnings: angst

A/N: I kept thinking of early season Jim and Pam when I wrote this so there’s def office inspiration in this fic!!!!

“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Luke hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand. You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused. A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail. You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Luke’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory. “I beat you by like four feet!”

Luke stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office space, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Luke leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row. “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You laugh, shaking your head at Luke’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.

Luke watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind. He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to stuff down all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Luke’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you. Luke would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building. Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.

…

You and Luke had been friends ever since you joined the BAU two years ago. Two entire years, and Luke still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out. He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with. His soulmate, if you will. Luke had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning. He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor. It was a cold December morning when he saw Sam for the first time. Then of course he didn’t know his name. He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with slim shoulders and a trimmed beard. He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot. Luke had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.

That was two years ago, and Luke still hadn’t moved on. How could he when you sat only feet away from him? Spreading your infectious laugh and always being there to make him smile? No, Luke hadn’t moved on. Instead, he’d just learned to live with it. He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside. It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Luke for the longest time.

But falling also hurt. You were his best friend. You told him everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you. On that first day, even if you didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there was no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

…

Luke sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Luke quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Sam and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Luke’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name. ”What about you?“

“I have to make a call to the LA precinct first thing this morning. if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, he said he couldn’t file the evidence we gathered while we were consulting there on time. I wanted to go over the case file before that.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Luke says with a smile.

You chuckle and then look over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Luke didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Luke furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Luke,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distant hills on the east side of the city. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings in the horizon went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Luke glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Luke could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time he saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Luke says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view. “I’m freezing.”

Luke nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.

…

It's a habit, more than anything else, that has Luke lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy. And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Sam, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.

Luke had served as the backboard for you since he met you. He was always around to listen. Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Sam had been fighting more and more lately. He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.

Apparently last night had been bad. Luke can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway. “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night. He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Luke said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything. But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left. Went to my moms. I think it’s over. I mean, it has to be, right?”

Luke wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous. You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.

“I should get back to work.”

…

Luke has a hard time focusing the rest of the day. It was over. You said that. It was over and maybe, just maybe, Luke had a chance here. He’d be your friend first, of course. Just like it’d always had been. He wouldn’t rush you. But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him. He was elated. Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Luke’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Sam walk through the doors. He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil. But he watches from his desk instead, as Sam makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that? Fear? It fades quickly, morphs into anger. Then sympathy. Luke watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him out of the office, through the door without looking back.

…

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere. I think he really meant it.”

Luke nods and takes another swig of coffee, which wasn’t even warm now. He cringes.

“Sounds it,” he says dully. Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Sam kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before. It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Sam. He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time? Perfume? Same story, different version. Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Luke walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone. He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Luke, it’s Dave from the New York field office. Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about an agent opening here. It’d be a promotion for you. More duties, but more pay, all of that. Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested. Thanks.”

…

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart. It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Luke with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Luke that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends. He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore. So he gave himself an ultimatum. Tell her you love her. Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job. Tell her you love her. Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.

The words hang thickly in the air. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise. And for a quick second, Luke thinks you might say it back. But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection. It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Luke—“

But that’s all. Because Luke doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Sam has never held you like you’re this precious. It’s gentle but firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Luke—“ you say, finally pulling back.

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroy your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Sam and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Luke, but you maybe don’t love Luke, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.

“Okay.”

You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

…

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on consulting trips and prison interviews— you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, but it’s the permanence of it that hurts.

As you settle in that first day of Luke’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Luke Alvez.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Luke-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and you doodle in your notebook margins during case consultation meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.

As the days go on, regret floods deeper within you. You always knew Luke was your best friend. But you probably always always knew he was more than that too. You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Sam. This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall. It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be. You thought there’d be a Sam-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not. Instead, it just makes room for Luke’s hole to grow bigger.

…

It’s twenty past seven and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh. Oh.

“Oh my god.”

“Hi.”

“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Luke when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Garcia. It was from a case we worked not long ago—”

“Oh.”

“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would still be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Luke had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past seven because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get a machine instead.

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice. “Wow, the BAU has really changed you Y/L/N. Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Luke and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in your relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.

“Oh…good.”

You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing D.C. and New York that’s currently between you.

…

It took you until the next morning to get your act together. You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it. A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket. You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Luke. One from back before the airplane competition, where you’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on Garcia’s desk. You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something. Luke had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car. You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Luke’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue. It all floods in at once. The despair, the guilt, the regret. But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.

You stop in your tracks, backing out of the building and walking back towards your car.

You pull your phone out of the depths of your pocket and dial your boss’ number quickly.

“Emily,” you say when she answers. “I need to take the day off. I have to go to New York.”

…

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window. You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Luke when the time came. But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the New York FBI field office, sliding into the spot beside Luke’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now. No Sam or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Luke had just had enough? What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Luke.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him standing up from his desk. “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.

You couldn’t tell him here. You had to go somewhere more private.

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar black jacket hanging off from the back of his chair. You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Luke in your head.

“How’s New York?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you. You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Luke chuckles, “Common, Y/N. You didn’t drive three and a half hours to New York to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t. But you still didn’t know what to say to him. To Luke. The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit. You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining. You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Luke didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Luke shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the BAU isn’t the same and… I miss you. I miss you a lot, Luke. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. "I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could just go back to the way things were—“

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides. ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore. It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

Before, you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Luke, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to New York. I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Luke, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you mumble, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you. I have loved you but I was with Sam and I was afraid and I didn’t know it. And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late. But the look on Luke’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m gonna go. It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Luke saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Luke from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Luke from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Sam. Sam took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Luke was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you. He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.

#luke alvez fic #luke alvez imagines #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x reader fanfic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader fic #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez angst #criminal minds

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missinghan · 5 years ago

Text

radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College.

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.

Man, what a life.

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

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starryviolentine · 4 years ago

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Camp Paya (A Pre-Apocalypse Story): Chapter 1/?

Part three of the “Pre-Apocalypse Adventures” Series

( Part one: Brody’s Diary | Part two: Color Me Blue )

After lying dormant through another multi-seasonal slumber, safely tucked underneath blankets of red autumn leaves, cold snowy down, and dew from weeks of springtime showers, the grounds of Camp Paya have woken with the summer sunshine, well-rested and ready for this year’s hustle and bustle. Stretching three-quarters of a mile due northeast from Ericson Academy, the path to camp lies right in the middle of a beautiful valley, nestled cozily between a backdrop of mountains and a rocky riverbank. With the trickling of the nearby river, the chittering of wildlife, and the crunching of fallen foliage underfoot—all amidst a forest of trees as far as the eye can see—the short hike to the campgrounds makes for the most perfect, peaceful trek.

Unless, of course, it’s mid-June and your name is Therissa Nicole Lannister.

Therissa realized a little too late that it probably wasn’t the best idea to wear her favorite pair of black jeans and clunky combat boots this morning. And maybe she shouldn’t have brought such an enormous bag with her, nor packed it with so much stuff that it’s nearly bursting at the seams. The teenager’s face is flushed, side-swept bangs matted to her forehead with sweat, and the feeling of hot, damp fabric jammed under her armpits is seriously grossing her out. God, she hates summer. And she hates nature. Dealing with both at the same time is a double whammy of the absolute worst sort.

Having spent the summer stuck at Camp Paya once already, after which she swore to herself she would never go back again, this isn’t even the first time Therissa’s been up this path. But she doesn’t remember it being so… uphill, and the sheer weight of her luggage pulling down on her arms like an anchor is making the journey feel ten times longer than it did when she was fourteen. At this point, Therissa has given up on carrying her duffel bag, which feels like it could possibly weigh more than her roommate Violet, and is dragging it through the dirt behind her.

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Therissa grumps through gritted teeth. “It’s too freaking hot.”

From a few steps ahead, a long-haired blonde turns to her right, making eye contact with the twin-tailed girl walking beside her, and the two of them break into giggles.

“Oh, yeah, haha. We’ll see who’s laughing when they wake up to a big, ugly spider on their pillow tomorrow morning.”

“Therissa, look,” says Brody, excitement in her voice as she points overhead at the wooden welcome sign just a short distance away. “We’re here!” The girl takes off running, but comes to a stop right before she passes under it. Bringing her feet together, she leaps to the other side as though crossing a threshold to another world.

As instructed, the incoming campers drop their bags off in a pile near a wooden playground, then follow the arrow of the nearby signpost pointing them to the main outdoor gathering space known as “The Pit.” The Pit is a large, square fire pit with rows of log benches around three of its sides and a raised platform covered by an overhead structure—also made out of logs—on the remaining side. At night, when the campfire is lit, this is where the campers have singalongs, roast marshmallows, and tell ghost stories. Right now, though, it’s where they’ve been told to sit and wait until it’s time for the orientation meeting to start.

Unlike Violet, who came here last year, and Therissa, who came a few summers ago, this is Brody’s very first time at Camp Paya. It’s the first summer that she won’t be spending at home with her family. Even though she won’t get to go to the neighborhood pool with her brothers this year, or visit Nana and Papa in Rhode Island like they do every July for her birthday, Brody’s really looking forward to spending the next couple of months having fun summer adventures with her friends… and maybe she’ll even make new friends! Brody has a good feeling that this is going to be the best summer ever.

Once all the campers have gathered and all the benches are full, a middle-aged woman in a ranger hat blows her whistle and gets up on the platform, cheerfully announcing that the opening ceremony is about to start. Violet, who has been particularly quiet since their arrival, sits close to Brody, chewing on her bottom lip. She’s glad—really glad—that her best friend decided to stay and go to camp with her this year, but there’s already one thing that she’s dreading.

“Oh, I hope we’re in the same cabin!” Hands clasped together under her chin, Brody unintentionally voices what Violet has been worrying about. “And Therissa, too. Wouldn’t it be perfect if we were all together?”

Mouth feeling dry, Violet can only nod.

The opening ceremony kicks off with an introductory speech by the woman with the whistle and hat, who turns out to be Camp Paya’s director, Pamela Wheeler. For the next several minutes, Ms. Pam outlines the camp rules and weekly schedule, but then gestures to the row of people standing at one end of the platform. They come onto the stage, all wearing the same beige button-up shirt and red neckerchief tie as Ms. Pam, and introduce themselves as this year’s camp counselors. Together, they give a brief overview of the different sports, crafts and activities available to the campers, as well as what sort of special events are on the program this year, like the night hike and the Camp Paya Talent Showcase.

When one of the counselors mentions the “Night Under the Stars” outdoor campout that happens every other week, Brody gasps and turns to her left, expecting Violet to be just as over the moon as she is, but her friend doesn’t look like she’s paying attention to the presentation at all. Instead, her face is hard as stone and her eyes are dark, and the way that she’s crossing her arms tightly around her gives off the impression that she’s angry. But Brody knows her best friend, and she knows that this is just what Violet looks like when something’s bugging her.

Before Brody can ask about it, a bit of microphone feedback startles her into looking back towards the stage. Thanking the counselors, Ms. Pam takes the mic and addresses the campers once again. “Now for the moment I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for,” she says with a warm smile. “Cabin announcements! Could all of our teen leaders please come up to the stage?”

“Well, that’s my cue.” Therissa heaves a sigh and gets to her feet. Before leaving, she glances at Brody and Violet and smirks at the sheer amount of anxiety written on both of their faces. “Look, even if you end up in different cabins, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll live.”

A dozen or so teenagers make their way to the stage, and the counselors hand them each a clipboard containing the list of names of the campers they will be looking after. Ms. Pam waits until all of the lists have all been distributed before continuing. “These lovely young men and women are going to be your cabin leaders this summer. They’re here to help, so if you ever have any questions or need assistance, you can go to any of them at any time. Anyway, without further ado, let’s begin with Cabin One!”

One by one, the leaders go down the line, introducing themselves and reading off the names of their cabin groups. By the time the first couple of cabins have been sorted out, the dynamics are pretty clear. Two teen leaders to a cabin, and each leader is in charge of six campers. That makes for seven people in a group and a total of fourteen people per cabin. Cabin assignments never take more than a few minutes from start to finish, but for Violet and Brody, whose names have yet to be called even after reaching Cabin Four, it’s an endless, nerve-racking wait. With three cabins to go, there’s still a high chance that they could end up getting separated.

The second leader in Cabin Four turns out to be Therissa, who shuffles to center stage staring down at her clipboard, an unreadable expression on her face. When Samantha, her co-leader, hands her the microphone, Therissa pulls the cord toward her a bit too quickly, causing the speakers to let out a dreadful, high-pitched screech. The sudden noise makes a bunch of the campers jump and cover their ears.

“Oh, sh—” Somehow, Therissa is able to stop herself from swearing in time. Ms. Pam is looking at her sternly, eyes practically bugging out of her sockets. “—sh... orry. Sorry. I’m Therissa, the, uh, other leader of Cabin Four. Looks like the following six people are going to be stuck with me all summer, so if I call your name, good luck to you!” Looking down at her clipboard again, Therissa begins to read off her list. “Becca Gray. Ruby Hillis. Violet Gideon.” The teen’s voice changes, becoming more playful as the familiar name leaves her lips.

Letting out an immense sigh of relief, Violet drops her head into her hands. “Thank god.”

Brody’s back stiffens and she sits up straight as a pin at the very edge of her seat. Now she has to be in Cabin Four, too! The auburn-haired presses her hands together and squeezes her eyes shut. Please, oh, please! Pretty please with whipped cream and hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles and a cherry on top...

“Erin Ro… Rosen… bach... Rosenbacher. Wow, okay, I totally just butchered that. My bad, Erin. Amy McCoy… and…” Pausing right before the sixth name, Therissa looks up from her clipboard and out at the audience. The mischievous glint in her eyes is the only hint that she might be dragging things out on purpose.

Nearly slipping off the bench from anticipation, Brody’s heart begins to pound. She focuses all of her energy into a prayer that she mumbles under her breath. “Please, please, please…”

“Aaand that’s it!” Therissa exclaims loudly, holding the clipboard in the air and shrugging. She searches through the sea of faces until she spots her roommates in the crowd. Violet is patting Brody, who has frozen in shock and looks absolutely devastated, on the shoulder to comfort her. Sucking in a sharp breath, the teenager shakes her head and starts to laugh. “Just kidding! And Brody Burress. Come find me!” Flashing a backwards, sideways peace sign, Therissa passes the mic to the next leader and makes her way off the stage.

Violet halts mid-pat and furrows her eyebrows as she tries to wrap her head around what happened. She’s not quite sure if that was supposed to be Therissa’s attempt at a joke or what, but at least this means that she and Brody get to be cabin mates after all. The blonde looks across the firepit at her oldest roommate again, watching in stunned silence as the teenager steps down from the platform, spinning smoothly on her heels, and goes to stand near the entrance to The Pit. As Therissa walks away with a smug smile and a spring in her step, she almost looks like she’s dancing.

#twdg brody #twdg violet #twdg #the walking dead game #twdg therissa #camp paya #fanfic #here we go #brody twdg #violet twdg

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cutiietaurus · 5 years ago

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Someone Like Me ¦ Kian Lawley

You have always been into guys; and guys' clothes, guys' games, guy friends. In short, you've also always been one of the guys. It was natural to you, guys' clothes were more comfortable and their company has been nicer ever since you could remember.

Your guy friends have always treated you like you were one of them, so it never bothered you that some girls thought you were a little weird for dressing like a guy and surrounding yourself with quite a few of them.

However, recently things have started changing the way you feel about yourself. Ever since you realized you had a not so small crush on your friend Kian, you've started to think that maybe dressing and acting like a girl couldn't be so bad if it took his attention. Especially now that you're hours away from having dinner with him.

You stare attentively at your closet, wondering if any of your clothes could pass as girly.

"All I have are pants and hoodies." you whisper to Franny.

"Maybe we should go shopping then!" she suggests excited. Poor Franny, you think, if only she knew you were changing to try to get the attention of one of her best friends.

"You think it's really necessary?"

She shrugges. "Are you going to tell me why you're looking for girls' clothes?"

You bite you lip and sit on your bed. You don't think you should tell her, but you want to. She's sweet, a great friend, and probably the only person you'd be able to talk to about the issue at hand.

"You're gonna laugh and hate me." you say ashamed and embarrassed.

"Of course I won't."

You look at your friend and feel your cheeks warm. "I'm having dinner with Kian tonight."

Franny frowns.

"So what?"

"Alone."

"Y/N I don't get it. Haven't you guys gone out to eat several times?" You nod. "so why are you trying to dress up for him? It's just Kian."

You look down at your hands in your lap and wonder whether you should actually tell her about your feelings for Kian.

"Right," you try to brush it off "it's just Kian."

"Exactly, why would you- oh my God! It's not just Kian, is it?! You like him? Oh my God, that is so exciting!"

You look down and cover your face with your hands, groaning. "This is so embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing. Hey, what if I just borrow you something to wear tonight? You'll look beautiful."

Franng helps you and you end up wearing a beige skirt with a white shirt and your combat boots, not wanting to exaggerate. Franny does your makeup very lightly and before you know it you're standing outside Kian's house, waiting for someone to open the door.

After a few minutes, the door finally opens and you find yourself staring at a pair of brown eyes that are widely watching you. You stand there uncomfortable, not knowing what to say.

"Uhm... Are you going to let me in or what?"

Bobby blinks a few times rapidly and steps aside, finally chuckling. "I mean, we usually don't let strangers walk into our house but welcome!"

You roll your eyes and laugh with him, relieving the stress. "I'm trying something new." you say while leaning on the couch, despite not feeling completely comfortable in those clothes.

"I can see that."

After chatting for a few minutes Bobby leaves the room and a few more minutes later Kian walks in, juggling with his keys.

You try to look cool before Kian looks at you, but end up being just plain awkward.

"Hey!"

As he looks at you, Kian stops on his tracks and the keys fall on the floor, making a loud sound that alerts you both.

Kian's eyes open widely and you regret wearing Franny's clothes instantly. This was a terrible idea!, it's all you can think.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, uhm... Hi."

Kian finnaly smiles. "This is so weird." he says chuckling. "I mean, you look great I just wasn't expecting it!"

You cross your arms, uncomfortable. "Thanks, I guess."

You both get into Kian's car and make your way to the restaurant, where you have dinner and talk as if you didn't seem like a completely different person.

"I swear I don't know how I'm supposed to do this." you whisper to yourself, getting back into the car at the end of the night.

Kian laughs beside you, closing his door. "Why are you wearing a skirt? You never do that, you don't wear skirts."

You immediately feel your cheeks warm and look down, hoping he won't see your face. You shrug. "I wanted to try it."

Kian shakes his head. "Why? You've always said you don't feel comfortable wearing those things!"

Does this mean he doesn't like it?, you question yourself.

"It's just..." you start saying, but nothing comes out. You're not brave enough to tell him you did it for him, so you try to think of something else. "I like this guy," you restart confident "and I thought, I'm gonna start dressing up and maybe he'll look at me, you know? So here I am... Practicing." you lie. "As my friend, what do you think? Do you think I look OK?"

Kian stays quiet for a while, not moving on his seat the entire time. You wonder what he's thinking. Maybe it was horrible lie, maybe he just thinks you're crazy. Either way, you're close to finding out.

You watch him attentively, trying to figure out what's going through his head. He seems shocked at first, as he should be, but then he frowns and shakes his head and all the signs of the funny Kian you know are gone.

"You are beautiful, Y/N. You shouldn't be changing who you are or what you wear for a guy who doesn't even deserve you!" he says angrily. "I watched you the whole night, you're not even comfortable in those clothes, and even if you were you should wear them for you, not for some random guy!"

You sit beside him, not knowing what to saying.

"I really like him, though..." you say quietly.

"Yeah well, he's the one who should like you!" he continues. "And he should like you for the amazing person that you are, not because you're dressing up for him!" he shakes his head and looks away. "I can't believe you right now."

You tear up. He's not looking, but you tear up anyway and the worse thing about it is that you don't know if you're almost crying because he said you're an amazing person, because he's yelling at you, or because even though he thinks you're an amazing person he still doesn't like you.

"Kian..." he shakes his head again. "Why are you mad?" you ask quietly, like a 5 year old would when sad.

"Why am I mad? Because you're fucking beautiful and you can't see it!" he tells you, suddenly cupping your cheeks. "You can't change, Y/N! Not because of some guy!"

"But what if he only likes me like this?" you ask, in spite of not even being sure Kian likes the way you look at the moment.

Kian shakes him head softly, and you suddenly realized how close you two are. "Then he doesn't deserve you." he let's you know, quietly. "You should be with someone who likes you because you're funny, and smart. And because you don't care about what people think or say about you. Someone who'll tell you how beautiful you are in that horrible red hoodie, or how cute you look when you're mad. Someone who'll stay up on the phone with you for hours during the night until one of you falls asleep. Someone who... Someone who truly likes you."

Oh hello, you say to the butterflies who suddenly decided to wake up in your stomach, as the blood rushes through your cheeks.

"But Kian... You're the only person who does all of that."

"Then be with me." he says, leaning his face towards yours. "I would never ask you to change who you are. I'd never ask you to wear skirts or dresses or makeup, because I know that's not you." he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You don't need those things, you're beautiful."

You try to look down but his hands on your face don't let you, so you look up at him instead. "You never said that to me." you whisper.

"I didn't think I needed."

You nod, not knowing what to say. "Thank you, then."

Kian chuckles. "Thank you for what, liking you?"

A smile escapes your likes. "For liking me?" you almost joke.

Kian rolls his eyes and shrugges, letting go of you. "Thought it was pretty obvious. We've had like, 5 dates already."

You laugh. "You've been counting that as dates?"

The boy blushes and looks at everywhere but you. "Yeah so, I guess now you know the truth. I like you. Big deal."

You laugh again. "That's so cute." you sigh.

"What's cute? Liking a girl who'll try to change for this other guy? I don't think so." he murmurs.

This is it. It's time to tell him.

You take a deep breath and look around, not knowing if you should be looking into his eyes while telling him your feelings.

"There's something I need to tell you." you say, watching Kian's sad expression. "About that guy..."

Kian head snapped in you direction. "Please don't tell me it's one of the guys!"

"It's not. It's you."

You both stay quiet for a few seconds, Kian not knowing if he had heard you right and you not knowing if he had liked the news.

"So... The guy yo- you dressed up for me?" You nod. "That was so freaking unnecessary!" he almost yells happily, cupping your cheeks all over again. "Are you for real? “

"Yeah" you tell him smiling.

"Cool" he says smiling back. "you know, this is the part where I kiss you."

You try to smirk, but your lips open to a smile. "Be my guest!"

#Kian Lawley #Kian #Lawley #Kian Lawley imagine #Imagine #superkian13 #Kian imagine #Kian Lawley imagines #Imagines #Fanfic

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what-even-is-thiss · 6 years ago

Text

I wrote a creative essay about my least favorite aunt. Yeet.

Read it if you’d like. I’m just happy to finally get the damage she caused me mostly dealt with to the point where I feel comfortable writing about it.

Language Barrier

Whenever I speak in German my expressions and hand gestures suddenly become ridiculously animated, like I’m trying to make up for my lack of vocabulary with a sign language that hasn’t been invented yet. One that only I know the meaning of. I flap my hands around like a maniac and point to things I don’t know the words for and make broken sentences that sound like a caveman made them as I misgender inanimate objects left and right.

Das. Das. That. That. This. This.

I can physically feel my brain rewiring itself. I speak like fool. Wrong order spoken are words. Sometimes anxiety make cry me. Social kind.

However, I speak much more German than my uncle’s mother and stepfather speak of English so I’m forced to use what I can and hope they can understand my thick American accent as we stay with them in Southern Germany. Everyone keeps trying to reassure me that my German is very good, but I can’t stop out of order speaking.

Kann ich habe Brot mehr bitte? Can I having bread more please?

I want to crawl into a hole and die.

My grandmother warned me that a person can grow tired of the amount of bread that Germans eat and according to that Bible thing that we both read man cannot live by bread alone. I’m starting to understand both of those things, eating bread and jam for breakfast yet again because I don’t like butter with marmalade and there’s no cheese left.

The weather, unlike my breakfast or Deutsche Grammatik, is perfect. Slightly cold, sunny and overcast at the same time. The neighborhood that my uncle’s parents live in is beautiful, suburban, on the edge of Schwartzwald, known in English as the Black Forest. I can’t remember the name of the town but I do know that we tried to get a brewery tour and my aunt, her twins, and I waited in the van as my uncle talked loudly at somebody in a local dialect until he got out of them that they don’t do tours anymore.

We went to a rope climbing course instead. My uncle, tall and skinny, balding, fit, took the twins, boy and girl, skinny like their dad, not taking after their mother, my mother’s sister, and went rope climbing in Schwartzwald.

I’m stuck talking with my aunt as we stand below the ropes course and I’m tired of speaking in German so we both take time to find comfort in each other’s distinctly Californian manner of speaking.

My aunt is a character. That’s a polite way to describe her if you don’t want to speak ill of someone that’s not in the room. She wears no makeup except for when she’s getting her picture taken or going somewhere important and she always looks stressed and tired with her eyes just a little too wide open. She’s maybe four inches shorter than me but she has the ability to make me feel like I only come up to her waist. In my mind she’s always wearing a knee length beige skirt and a green t-shirt even though she owns other articles of clothing than that, including more than 20 pairs of shoes. Her eyes are wide and her hands move in an animated fashion even when she speaks English. When she speaks German she becomes an exaggerated version of herself, perhaps to make up for her thick American accent and occasionally sketchy grammar. She has lived in Switzerland since the 90s and spoken German since the 80s. I once asked her how to tell what a noun’s grammatical gender is. She told me that she had no idea.

I didn’t know my mother for very long before she died but my grandmother tells me that when my mom was young, to describe her sister, she quoted a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The one about the little girl with the little curl who when she was good she was very good and when she was bad she was horrid.

My aunt’s hair is straight, but other than that the poem describes her very well. Today would be a day she was horrid.

I don’t claim to be a perfect human being. I can be a bitch sometimes just like anybody else. The thing is though, my aunt never let me know when I was doing something bitchy like a normal person would. Instead she let me keep on doing it until she was ready to explode. And then she exploded.

Or, no. Not exactly being bitchy. Just doing something that she didn’t understand or like. She’s a very animated person and her voice goes like

And

Up.

Down.

All the time.

She’s very expressive. I, on the other hand, am not that excitable. I smile, yes, I cry, yes, but I try to be stoic. I like being stoic. It feels natural. I don’t want to express to everyone around me every time I am excited or upset. In my opinion it’s none of their business. I also tend to express gratitude through actions and gift giving rather than hurting my face and voice smiling and screaming all of the time.

I had thought bringing gifts from America, delivering onto my aunt’s family the ever elusive box of grits and Bakersfield candy and trinkets from Disneyland Anaheim would show gratitude. I was under the impression that helping to cook dinner, pack the van, refill the ice trays, take care of the twins, carry the groceries, clean the house, would show how much I loved her. I learned though, in a firestorm under the canopy of dark trees and children riding on zip lines that our love languages didn’t translate properly and she thought that my lack of expressiveness meant that I hated her. She was hysterical about it. I then expressed myself by changing into a lovely shade of red and producing saltwater from my eyes.

Climbing hills is a thing you get used to when you spend time in Central Europe. Walking for three or four kilometers isn’t such a feat in a valley, where the ground is flat and rarely changes, but in hilly terrain you quickly learn just how long that distance is and how much walking can hurt. Locals take no pity on you because they expect that everyone has those muscles built up in their legs when you’ve never had to use your legs like that for long stretches of time before.

Navigating emotion and expectations at home is easy. There is one language being spoken and everyone uses it to tell each other what’s wrong. When staying with my aunt for long periods of time, however, you start to understand emotional exhaustion. Something that would take half a minute to communicate takes up ten minutes of screaming because she expected you to know everything. A flat crowded city turns into a hilly countryside with no help for miles. You quickly learn how to swear in German because she pushes her husband to screaming as well.

Scheiße.

Eventually my uncle finished with the ropes course and pulled me away from her. He gently explained to me in English what we were going to be doing for the next few days. I stopped leaking water from my eyes and tried to remember what had prompted her to start yelling at me but I couldn’t figure it out. Another talent she has. Distracting you from linear events.

While I was in Germany there was a terrorist attack in Münich. Brexit was fresh in everyone’s minds. My first presidential election would be happening in November. I only understood about half of what was said on the news. My little cousins and their dad took turns translating for me. I had the feeling that I still wasn’t getting the whole story.

My aunt and uncle have twins. Test Tube Babies. The girl is the older twin but strangely enough doesn’t hold it over her brother’s head, which would fit perfectly with her personality. The boy takes after his mother in some respects, namely her loud voice.

When we went to Prague we stayed in a campground because that’s a lot cheaper than a hotel and that family affords a second house because they’re stingy. Almost every morning it was a struggle to get the boy out of bed. He and his sister were almost ten and he screamed and refused to move. He cried. He was loud. No amount of discipline worked. His sister stood around quietly going about her business, as did I. We did the same thing when her parents got into screaming matches.

Prague is an old city. A busy city. I loved it, even with all of the pay toilets and Czech bluntness. Even when an angry Czech lady smoking a cigarette yelled at me in broken English for not knowing that I had to pay for the restroom. The old castles and cathedrals and statues and just the right amount of dirtiness in the subway more than made up for it.

My aunt payed for me to go look at a museum that she didn’t want to look at. She told me to take all the time I wanted as the rest of the family waited outside. I didn’t sense any passive aggressiveness that time, so I did. It was a complex that was part of the Prague art museum, a system spread out around the city. The section I walked through by myself was a collection of medieval Roman Catholic art. Stained glass windows, paintings, tapestries. I’m a Lutheran that lives with atheists, so my experience with Catholic art is mostly non existent. Atheists don’t have religious figures to draw and Lutherans are extremely stingy with their images, worried about crossing into the realm of idolatry.

One thing I noticed was that Mary appeared everywhere, even in stories I thought she didn’t belong. In some images she stood equal with Jesus, reminding me of a female God. She seemed mature, different from the outcasted teenage mother I had told children about in Sunday School classes. Different from the refugee that had been painted for me in sermons. I wondered what kind of mother this Mary was. I wondered what her Hebrew sounded like. Or, maybe this Mary spoke Czech and the Mary in Germany spoke German and the Mary in the Vatican spoke Latin and the Mary my Catholic friends at home looked to spoke Spanish. Maybe if I prayed to Mary she would speak English. Maybe she would turn out to speak German and would look down at the frantic dancing of my hands, trying to find meaning in it.

But I don’t pray to Mary, and neither do my aunt or uncle. I report to them what I saw and my observations about Mary. Namely that she seems to be everywhere. My aunt doesn’t quite pick up on the fact that I simply find it interesting and takes it as an invitation to rant about Catholics. I squint at her as we walk back to the subway. I’m trying to figure out if I’d somehow been speaking another language. She certainly seems to be. Maybe it’s a generational gap. Maybe it’s just her, but I try to turn the conversation back to a tone of tolerance rather than complaint. A battle I quickly lose.

Later, in a public park in that busy city, my aunt yelled at me and cried because I had been calling her by her first name rather than Aunt. I nearly start leaking again. I shake. I think she’s speaking English but I don’t understand it. I physically step away from her as she accuses me of not seeing her as family. At the bottom of the hill we’re standing on a dog plays fetch with his owner. Neither of them take notice of the screaming middle aged American woman throwing accusations her deceased sister’s child as her own children zone out and wait for it to be over. No help comes. Nobody translates for me and Google Translate doesn’t have a setting for this.

Twenty minutes later she jokes with me as we find a rare but welcome burrito shop. I buy a mango soda imported from Mexico and it softens my homesickness. We eat on the steps of a light rail station. I laugh. The twins laugh and bounce around, talking to each other in a mixture of English, Swiss-German, and high German. The boy takes a bite out of my burrito and thinks the fact I can eat something that spicy makes me the coolest person in the world. My aunt laughs with me. We make plans for when we go to Southern Germany and visit her husband's parents. That’s where his dentist is. He needs a bit of work done. We’ll have fun, she promises. We had a good time in Prague. I put the bad times in a shoebox for later and then agree with her.

After she yells at me in Schwartzwald for not showing emotion I go quiet. I put more things in the shoebox I’ve made in my mind to deal with later. I learn that all of them have been eavesdropping on the phone calls I’ve been making to my dad and friends back home. My aunt approaches me about how I complained about the yelling. I’m suddenly paranoid and wonder if she read some of the postcards I sent out. I watch my words now and put the ones that might set off her fuse in the box. The little house outside of Zurich has started to feel like home when I return to it and I’m slightly disgusted at that realization. The flowers all make my eyes water and I’m not given nearly enough allergy pills. I still don’t understand what language she’s speaking. Her words are in English or German, as are mine, but we still don’t understand each other.

Currants, especially the red ones, are beautiful fruit. Not easy to find in stores, even in Europe, so you’ve gotta pick them yourself. My aunt and uncle have a small city of currant bushes living in their backyard that hugs the bank of the stream that runs through the neighborhood. They’re beautiful and inviting, asking you to eat them please, but when you do your face scrunches up at the tartness. I never did care for sour tastes, so I found my own way to make the currants sweet by baking them into scones. At first my aunt was sceptical of my scones but after some reassurance from her kids that they didn’t taste like cinnamon she tried them and agreed that I did a good job. They were sweet and went really well with milk or tea. We all enjoyed them very much. Nobody had to translate anything.

Every member of that family gives excellent hugs when you can get them. They share drinks and food with each other, a concept that shocked me at first, but I quickly fell into the rhythm of it with them. They bought me my first beer and took me to Worms, Germany. I loved that place. I got to see one of the first print versions of Luther’s German translation of the bible. I ate pastries and tea with them at an outdoor cafe. It was cold and wet in the middle of the summer and the cobblestones made it even gloomier. The moving feet on the sidewalk seemed to have a language of its own and the new architecture standing by the old had no words to be translated but told a story nonetheless.

My experience in Europe was like Europe itself. Americans expect it to be shiny and beautiful, and it is, but you also have to pay to use the restroom which leads people to piss in the street. You will also find cigarette machines on almost every corner. There is one right outside my aunt and uncle’s second house. The packages of cigarettes have pictures of black lungs and diseased gums on them. The people smoke anyways. Europeans are people. They have drama, they worry about money, they cry, they abuse, they kick, they scream, they love. All the problems you had in America won’t disappear over there, and in fact you might find some new problems you didn’t expect. Like not finding salsa or not knowing how to deal with carnival rides that have no line and are boarded like a much more violent version of musical chairs. And don’t expect to practice your target language there either. The people will hear your accent and excitedly try and use you to practice English. And even if you do speak the language, don’t expect to understand with everyone. Hand gestures can only go so far.

When I got home I left the German language behind me for the most part. I also slowly cut off most contact with my aunt’s family. Six weeks spent putting things in a shoebox and not speaking whatever language my aunt was speaking with English and German words was enough for me. By the time I opened my shoebox a few months later it was rotten, smelly, and leaking. It took over a year to clean it out and it’s still warped and stained, containing whispers of my own desperate language that would never penetrate my aunt’s skull or jump over the barrier we had built together.

My rotten shoebox is revolting to look at, and while I was cleaning it parts of the mess got onto the happy memories but thankfully they’re still there. The cathedrals, the warm hugs, the new foods, and comforting rain are all there. Late nights and early mornings, potato pancakes and beer, museums and trees and the times I could honestly say; Ja, ich bin glücklich. Yes, I am happy. And thankfully that sentence is easy to translate.

#roman wrote a thing #religion mention #roman said a thing

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daydream-in-a-dream · 6 years ago

Text

Runway (NCT Lucas)

Genre: Angst with a tinge of fluff, model!Lucas X photographer!reader

Word count: approx. 7k

Warning(s): Swearing

(2013)

Photography has always been your passion, and without a doubt, you took it as a major when you had the chance. As the second year approached, you doubted whether the subject was really your passion or just a fleeting interest at that point in time.

It wasn't that you hate photography per se. You did enjoy taking shots on inanimate objects but when it comes to human models, you have to deal with the unnecessary troubles on top of having them to meet your expectations. Some models failed terribly in recreating your impression, while very few people were able to portray the picture that you have in mind. Fortunately, there was one particular guy who exceeds your expectation, to the point where he could improvise on the spot and allow you to be open to new perspectives.

Yukhei was the guy you go to when your projects involved human beings. Johnny introduced him to you when you were unable to find a suitable model and you only had a week left before you had to submit your final project in the first year. Since then, you never look elsewhere. You were glad that Yukhei accepted your requests in a heartbeat, in which Johnny would often whine about how you practically stole his life saviour.

"You can't do this to me!" He cried during lunch. "And you, Yukhei! How could you accept her offer and not mine?"

"Your ideas are too hard for me to work with, and she usually treats me afterwards," the younger man reasoned before he nonchalantly chewed on his food. Once in a while, his eyes widened before he hummed in appreciation as he savoured his meal. On the other hand, Johnny whipped his head to face you before his eyes narrowed.

"I can't believe you bribed him! I shouldn't have introduced him in the first place if I knew you would do such a thing!" Pouting like a baby, he crossed his arms as he looked away from you. In all honesty, you knew Johnny wasn't being serious and that alone made you chuckle.

"Come on, Johnny! I know you just want to have female models for your work. Don't worry, I'll contact my friends if any of them are interested." Of course, the said man was all smiles again as he faced you again.

"Now that's what I want to hear!" He then glanced at his watch. "Okay, I need to go now. Call me when you already found one!"

Johnny jogged away from the area as he waved to you and Yukhei. It was only half past twelve when you and Yukhei had finished eating, leaving you with a few hours to spare before your next class while Yukhei could just head his way home. Planning to use your time productively, you proposed to work on your project immediately. As expected, Yukhei agreed before you led the way to the ideal location for the photoshoot.

"Wait, no need for a change of clothes?" Yukhei inquired, in which you replied by shaking your head as you elaborated on the ideas you wished he could depict later on the set. As usual, he pitched in some ideas too and honestly speaking, you wouldn't ask for a better model.

"Well, who needs a change of clothes when the model himself is enough to get you an A." You had grown accustomed to his overflowing confidence on himself, yet you couldn't help yourself as you chuckled in delight before getting serious with work.

It was a typical day spent with Yukhei. However, it was unfortunate that you started to miss the time spent with him when both of you went separate ways after graduation and all contacts were ceased ever since.

~~~

(Present day)

You were pretty much established in the photography scene now. Back then, you couldn't imagine yourself being invited to major events often for your service, but somehow you made it. However, you couldn't deny that you felt guilty for not checking up on your friends when you were piled with your seemingly endless work. Calls from clients were made every now and then, impromptu photoshoots happened once in a while to cover for your sick colleagues. You couldn't recall the last time you contacted your friends. It wasn't until Johnny attended the same event as you when you were reminded about the lack of contact you made with your friends.

"Oh my god! Johnny, is that really you?" You couldn't hide your elation upon spotting Johnny at the entrance a few hours before the event started.

"Oh lord, you! How long has it been since you last called me?" His eyebrows were furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, huffing with mock anger while he waited for your reply.

"Uhm, I might have lost your number when I changed my contact number." You sheepishly grinned, leaving the tall man baffled.

"Are you serious?! Why don't you just ask me? Dude, social media exists for a reason." Looking deadpanned, he was unimpressed with your excuse.

"I'm sorry, I just got caught up with work." Johnny was about to argue when a group of photographers made their way to the venue, bringing both of you back to reality. He clicked his tongue in annoyance when he realised that there was barely any time left before the event would commence.

"Give me your phone." His sudden demand caused you to hand him the device almost instantaneously, and it wasn't until your phone left your grasp did you realise what was bound to happen.

"Johnny, you can just write your number on paper and just pass it to me you know." Your fingers reached for your phone restlessly but he retracted his hand before you could even touch it.

"Shush." He attempted to unlock your phone, only to be shooting you an unamused look when you had been using the same PIN since your college days. He then dialled his number on your phone before he passed it back to you. "There. All done."

Your lips quirked awkwardly as you tried to show a genuine smile. It wasn't that you were unhappy about it. You really did want to keep his number just in case, but the fact he got your number would mean that he would be pestering you on your off days. And the thought alone bothered you. Those days were meant for you to laze around in your home, and there was no way you would let him drag you out of your apartment when you just need time to yourself before you were ready to face the hectic week ahead.

However, you knew that was just an excuse when Johnny had a wide circle of friends to hang out with. In reality, you were just afraid that Johnny would readily give your phone number to Yukhei, and you weren't prepared for it. You couldn't deny that you cut Yukhei off rather abruptly, but it was for the best. It was unfair for him, considering how he had been calling you non-stop ever since you left the town to venture for your career opportunities without bidding farewell to your friends, and it came to the point where you had resorted to changing your mobile number just so he wouldn't hinder with your quest to find your dream job. You would only be preparing a recipe for disaster if you were to allow your affections for him to grow.

The seats were already occupied with notable public figures in the fashion industry, but you couldn't care less. You only hoped that you could get this done and over with so that you could return to your comfortable cocoon with a bowl of popcorn in your hand while you binge-watched the latest drama series you had been anticipating for days. You would have done so if your dear colleague wouldn't drop the news at the very last minute, and somehow, she knew that you wouldn't reject the job which was why you ended up in this place unwillingly.

A round of applause erupted as the models made an appearance in the runway with the latest fall collection. It was your cue to take the shots as the models strutted their way to the front of the platform before walking confidently to the backstage. Johnny wasn't far off from your position as he too was immersed in capturing the best pictures he could take in the fashion show.

Monotonously clicking on the shutter, you were growing bored as the digital clock at the back of the room displayed 21:00. It has been already an hour since you were stuck in this event and you were very tempted to get out of this place before the boredom kills you. When he made an appearance in the runway, however, your temptation to flee might just come to reality if it wasn't for you being trapped in the middle of a large group of cameramen in front of the platform. You couldn't tell if he saw you in the crowd when his piercing gaze was at the front, and not once did his eyes travelled down to see you in your crouch position with your camera as a perfect hiding spot for your face. Yet, your fingers were getting jittery at the thought of him spotting you and you were definitely not ready to meet him. Not just yet.

"Now let's welcome the fashion designer, Nakamoto Yuta, into the house together with our rising model, Lucas Wong, who'll be donning the highlight of this year's fall collection. Let's welcome them with a round of applause!" Yukhei made his way to the front of the platform again. This time around, he had a long beige coat on him together with a cream turtleneck and black khakis to complete the look, accentuating the theme of the fall collection ㅡ simplicity.

Yuta made his way next, with his immaculate white suit, as his suave gait didn't go unnoticed. Nonetheless, he still walked with a gummy smile on his face while he fixed his blazer. After he bowed slightly to the audience, he introduced his fashion line while resting his arm on Yukhei's shoulder, in which the latter relaxed a bit when Yuta lightly tapped on his bicep with Yuta's smile being the driving factor for Yukhei to loosen up. The non-verbal communication between the two men was enough for you to conclude that they must have been close.

You couldn't help getting distracted with your work when the man you had been avoiding thus far was suddenly appearing in front of you. Of course, your absent-minded self didn't notice Yukhei staring straight at you when your camera was lowered to your chin level. It was only when a photographer next to you accidentally knocked on you, causing you to falter from your crouch position and caught Yukhei’s intense gaze on you. Too stupefied to do anything afterwards, your body turned numb. You could only exhale the air which you had been keeping for a while when both Yuta and Yukhei returned backstage. As the guests rose from their seats, you immediately dashed to your car, not bothering to turn back when Johnny called you.

You were glad that your car was passing the electronic gantry when Yukhei was turning left and right at the exit, looking slightly dishevelled. You were just not ready to face him. At least not now.

~~~

(2014)

The days leading to graduation were hectic. You weren't given the time to be anxious about your graduation when you were in the midst of helping your parents to pack their belongings. On top of that, you were also contemplating the job offer you received recently and as much as it sounded enticing, you had to think things through before accepting it wholeheartedly. It was unfortunate that you didn't have the time to sit down and ponder over the offer when there were so many things to clear at the moment.

It was already two days before graduation when the movers had arrived in your doorsteps to help in transporting some of your parents' treasured furniture. You did your part by carrying the boxes containing their clothes to the truck.

"Honey, are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Your mom questioned again when all the necessary items were on the way to your parents' new residence.

"It's okay. I still need to attend the graduation ceremony and the university's not far from here anyway." The corners of her mouth were pulled to the side as she nodded, assuring you that you were always welcomed anytime. She didn't say much afterwards as she headed to the car where her husband was waiting before she slammed the door shut when she got inside. Nonetheless, she did wave at you before the car sped off.

As the red Mini Cooper diminished from your view, you couldn't help but wonder if your parents were still disappointed with you choosing photography as your major when they had dearly hoped you would choose business so that you, being the only child in the family, could inherit their firm one day. They didn't resist much when you first announced it, but they did give you a cold shoulder once in a while when you talked about your university life. You wouldn't be surprised that they won't make it for the graduation ceremony, considering how your workaholic parents had opted to buy a house closer to their office which made them even more absorbed in their occupation since they could go to work anytime they pleased.

The vibration from your jeans broke your reverie, in which you quickly fished the device out from the pocket as you went back inside when the afternoon rays came off rather strongly, making you uncomfortable in your drenched white tee.

"I'm surprised that you decided to accept my video call this time round. What happened to your 'strictly calls only'?" One of his eyebrows were raised as his head was tilted, pleasantly surprised by your change.

"I don't want my phone to be dirtied by my sweaty ears." Grabbing the remote control to set the highest setting for your ceiling fan, you soon plopped on the couch, not bothering to change your clothes since there were no adults to nag at you for ruining the leather seats.

"I see. You look good when you're wet anyway." You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, especially when Yukhei repeatedly raised his eyebrows in a coy manner before you spoke. "Anyway, why are you calling me?"

Looking away for a moment, he bit his lower lip as he struggled to voice his main agenda for the call. You were about to open your mouth to ask him again when he beat you to it.

"I don't want to force you or anything, but do you want to go out with me tomorrow night? Just you and me." The invitation did come as a surprise for you when your pupils dilated.

"Aren't you going to the party tomorrow?" You knew a graduands' party was going to take place on the day before the ceremony, and Yukhei wasn't one to shy away from such social gatherings. When there's free food, there's Yukhei. That was one thing for sure.

"Nah, I'm too old for parties anyway." At this moment, you couldn't hide your bewilderment when your eyes were wide opened before they were narrowed to slits as you eyed him suspiciously. Yukhei, the Wong Yukhei, rejecting parties? That was something you couldn't fathom for a while.

"Oh, come on! It's been a while since we last hang out anyway! Please? I'll definitely treat you tomorrow! You don't have to bring even a single cent!" A smirk was formed on your face when you decided to play with him.

"Oh really? Will you buy for me a building then?"

"Definitely! I'll even bribe NASA if you want to travel to the moon!" Of course, Yukhei went along with it before waves of laughter soon erupted. You rarely cracked jokes among your friends but years of friendship with the man on the screen made it possible for you to be comfortable to engage in playful banters with him.

Eventually, you yielded to his request, in which Yukhei reacted by pumping his fist to the air while exclaiming a loud 'yes!' which echoed around his room. The wrinkles formed near his eyes were as clear as day while his wide smile spurred you to do the same. It wasn't long before he had to cut the conversation short, claiming that he had an errand to run.

Tomorrow came faster than you expected. There was a sense of giddiness coursing through your body as you waited for the sun to set. Yukhei had called you earlier this morning that he would be picking you up, and you were given no time to decline the offer when he immediately hung up since he was merely informing you. You could only chuckle to yourself as you got dressed an hour before he arrived.

Despite being in the middle of finding your pair of jeans, you didn't hesitate to pick up the call when the ringtone had resonated around your bedroom for quite some time.

"Hey Yukhei, could you give me a sec-"

"Sorry, but we're calling from Pixel Studios." You immediately retracted your hand to see the caller, only to curse silently before you placed your phone back to your ear.

"We just want to confirm whether you'll be taking up the job. We really admire your work and it'll be appreciated if you could decide as soon as possible so that we can contact other potential candidates if you plan to reject the offer." Your heart felt heavy as those words were uttered to you. You knew you shouldn't be reluctant to accept the offer straight away, but something was stopping you. And the fact that you didn't know what that 'something' could be added on to your frustration.

"Is it okay if I reply tomorrow?" A sigh could be heard from the end of the call before he finally agreed. You didn't forget to thank the person before he ended the call. Somehow, the excitement which bubbled within you had dissipated. You didn't manage to dwell on the topic further when you heard the sound of the car honking thrice. You quickly rummaged your closet before your eyes finally landed on the pair of jeans you were looking for. There was no time to waste as you instantly put it on, and at the same time, praising yourself for doing your makeup earlier on.

"Sorry, I'm late!" You barely breathed once you jogged your way to stand in front of him, who all this while had been leaning on his Hyundai. He waved his hand dismissively, convincing you that it was fine after all even though he didn't miss the opportunity to tease you about how you reject his ride earlier this morning.

"Shall we go now, my lady?" Opening the door to the passenger seat, he ushered you in like a fine gentleman. While the act could cause women to have their hearts racing, you could only laugh in embarrassment when the action was uncalled for, especially when both of you were wearing casual outfits.

Yukhei might have called this a hangout, but you felt that this was a date instead. How could you not think that way when he had been acting so nice to you? And with the way he held you close almost all the time, you wouldn't be surprised if outsiders were to mistake both of you as a couple. You didn't mind though, but it did raise questions in your head as to what Yukhei was hiding.

His hand felt clammy whenever you interlocked your fingers with his, and you did spot his long legs growing restless under the table when you had dinner with him at the restaurant situated by the river. Well, it could be due to the night breeze but you highly doubted that. Especially when his eyes darted sideways once in a while ㅡ a telltale sign that he was obviously nervous over something.

After the palatable meal, Yukhei suggested taking a walk by the river. You agreed nevertheless, even though you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that kept reminding you that he was trying to buy time to alleviate his anxiety. As such, both of you didn't walk far before you spun around and stopped in front of him. His chest would have been knocking on your face if it wasn't for his quick reflexes due to your sudden movement. He might seem intimidating to you with his towering height, but when his eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights, he only resembled a very big baby.

"What's wrong?" Yukhei asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're not being yourself tonight. Is there something you're hiding from me?" You playfully pointed your index finger at him, in which he responded by rubbing his nape in an attempt to relieve his nerves.

"Is it that obvious?" The incandescent lamp above the two of you highlighted his crimson red cheeks, but that didn't stop him from reaching for your hands before holding it firmly. It would be a lie to say that your heart didn't palpitate wildly as you were mildly worried about what was he planning to say.

"I like you." Your mouth went agape with incredulity at the declaration, but he didn't let you say anything as he quickly continued.

"I can't deny that I've been attracted to you since the day we first met. And it only seems to grow the more I spend time with you. It was hard for me to contain these feelings every time I'm with you. I don't expect an answer from you yet, but I hope our friendship doesn't change." After the confession, he couldn't bear to look at you any longer as his eyes were averted to the ground instead.

You were at a loss of words. Although you did wonder about it, you didn't expect that he would express his feelings up front. And you weren't prepared for it. Somehow, you felt bad for probing him when he seemed to be on his toes after professing his attraction towards you.

The ride to your home was uncomfortable, absolutely. No one initiated any conversation as the radio filled the silence instead. You tried to think of other things to distract yourself, only to remember about the company who had been waiting for your response. You cursed inwardly as you could feel your shoulders being weighed down further by the job offer, on top of Yukhei's confession earlier. Even as both of you exited the car, the awkward tension still lingered in the air.

"See you tomorrow in the ceremony." You could feel the cringe on your fingertips at how strained the conversation had become. Nonetheless, you still bade him farewell as you watched his car disappear into nothingness.

Taking a quick shower, you shuffled to your bed before your limbs were splayed across the soft mattress. Even when the clock struck two in the morning, you couldn't sleep. It was difficult trying to formulate a response for the company when Yukhei's confession still floated in your head. The job was what you could ever dream of, and now that he professed his feelings for you, you were hesitant to take up the job. Even though you could imagine yourself being his significant other, you were well aware that the opportunity which was being thrust upon you was hard to come by. Moreover, you weren't even committed to him yet so it should be easy to reject his feelings and focus on your career first, right?

Wrong! You screamed at your idiocy because you knew damn well that your feelings were in too deep as well. However, you also knew that you had to think with your head and not your heart if you didn't want your future to be bleak. Plus, how sure were you that your relationship with Yukhei was going to last?

By the time the sun had risen, you already made up your mind. You decided to keep your feelings dormant for now so that you can start your career with ease. Moreover, you didn't want to disappoint your parents any further by not working in a field you had been studying for years. There was no going back as you went to the bathroom, not bothering to take a quick nap in spite of the commencement of the ceremony being in the late afternoon.

You already texted your parents about the ceremony, and as unsurprisingly as ever, they replied with a typical excuse of why they won't be able to make it for the event. At this point, you didn't even know whether they were lying or not, but you couldn't care less anyway. However, you did inform them that you were planning to stay with them after the ceremony and your mother was more than happy to receive you after the ceremony, which was also in line with the end of office hours. Your father, on the other hand, was planning to rent the house the moment he heard about the news even though you were still unsure as to how long you would be occupying your parents' home. You had already packed your essentials in your duffle bag when Johnny texted you to come early, stating that there was going to be a photo-taking among the photography majors before the start of the graduation ceremony.

Boisterous cheers were heard even before you stepped in the school grounds. Despite the overwhelming crowd in your university, you could easily spot the long-legged man from afar before you brisk-walked your way towards him and landed a punch lightly on his bicep, earning a yelp from him.

"Seriously?" You guffawed at his mock hurt when his face was scrunched upon receiving the blow, causing you to slap the same bicep even harder which resulted in Johnny to actually cry in pain before he rubbed the spot soothingly. "You're mean!"

"Well, you're being dramatic Johnny." His pupils reached for the skies before he pulled you to the rest of the photography majors when one of them had called for a photo-taking. The gods must have loved you a lot when the same guy handed his phone to Yukhei who happened to be within the vicinity. Yukhei obliged, not noticing your presence just yet.

"Alright, I'm going to take one now." The sizeable cohort quickly scurried into their places, and you quickly rushed towards Johnny's side. Johnny, however, had other plans when he firmly grabbed your shoulders such that you were in front of him so that he can rest his head on top of yours. You were about to look up when the people around you started to disperse.

"Johnny!" You didn't hesitate to smack his chest hard, loud enough for Yukhei to wince as he approached the two of you.

"You wouldn't want to get on her bad side, Johnny," Yukhei mused, only to raise his arms up defensively when you glared at him.

"I swear, what did I do in my past life for me to deserve such idiots..." Your groans were left unheard when both men were exchanging high-fives in front of you. Being the shortest among the three, you could predict that both of them wouldn't even realise that you were gone even if you happen to flee hours ago.

"Ehem! I'm right here, you know." You made your presence known when Yukhei and Johnny showed no signs of stopping the conversation.

"Aww... are you upset that we're leaving you out?" Yukhei swung his arm before he pulled you closer. You were glad that he was being his goofy self because you wouldn't know how to act around him when the confession just happened yesterday.

"We should have dinner together later!" Johnny suggested, but you were quick to raise your index finger.

"Uhm, about that... I don't think I'll be joining you guys. I'll be with my parents tonight." You subconsciously scratched your head as you smiled sheepishly.

"Now who's the one leaving?" Yukhei hinted. You shot him an apologetic look, but you knew deep down this was all for the best. Now that you chose to stay with your parents, you were determined to give yourself space for you to focus on photography, and photography alone. You couldn't risk yourself losing the opportunity to develop your portfolio at the expense of your friends ㅡ more like your potential infatuation with Yukhei.

There was no going back.

~~~

(Present day)

"What is it, Johnny? I'm in the middle of work," you grumbled upon answering the call when the vibration in your pocket became too much to handle.

"Are you serious? It's lunch hour now! I was just about to call you out to eat together with me."

"I'll pass for now. I can eat later after I'm done with my job." You turned down his offer, but Johnny had been adamant to have you eating with him.

"You've been rejecting our lunch dates for too long! That's it, I'm buying lunch over so that we can eat together. It's Pixel Studios right?"

"Yeah," you confirmed absent-mindedly before you processed his words once again. "Wait, how do you know that's where I work?"

"I saw your pass during the event. Okay, see you later!" You didn't have the time to dissuade him from coming to your workplace when he immediately hung up. You could only click your tongue in annoyance before the director's voice was booming within the four walls.

"Come on guys! The models are entering the studio any minute!" At his command, your colleagues who were still in the midst of arranging the props soon quickened their pace. You could sense that it was going to be a rough day today, considering how his voice becoming hoarse as the clock ticked by. Thank goodness your camera crew had already set up the necessary equipment when your senior approached you.

"I need your help." Well, what's new. You thought.

"I need you to record the interview later after the photoshoot. I've been contacting Donghoon for the past hour and he's not picking up!" You knew Donghoon wasn’t going to make it, especially when his social media was flooded with photos of him downing shots at the club last night.

"Alright," you agreed reluctantly. "Are we interviewing all three models?"

"Oh no! It'll just be Lucas Wong. It won't take long, I can assure you." The mention of his name had you frozen on your feet. You knew he was coming for the photoshoot, and you actually contemplated whether or not you should report for work. Nevertheless, you still came, with hopes that you could escape once it was over. Bold of you to assume so when there was no way you could run away this time.

"Are you okay?" Your senior placed her hand on your shoulder when she noticed your body stiffened. You quickly reassured her that you were fine, although she was hardly convinced when your eyes were directed at the exit. Eventually, she left you alone when the director clapped his hands loudly to signal the crew to get in position.

Yukhei's powerful gait was hard to miss despite being at the back when the models walked in. You anticipated him to be all smug as he made his way to the set, but he proved you wrong as he greeted the staff with his wide smile. You swore you could see those heart-eyes forming on your female colleagues as they gushed about his mannerisms. Somehow, you were glad that he didn't let the fame get into him. Unlike the stoic face which he displayed back then during the fashion show, he was showcasing his teeth upon spotting you as his eyes momentarily disappeared when he smiled. It felt like your university days again where he would often model for you in your projects.

You weren't surprised when Yukhei followed your instructions well as you took the shots. He could grasp the idea that you wished to portray after explaining only once while the other two models required more directing from you. For once, you weren't anxious about Yukhei's presence as you immersed yourself fully in the job. Even when he came close to you to monitor the pictures, you could cast your worries aside as you interacted with him in a strictly professional way.

"Okay, it's a wrap!" You announced before everyone involved clapped their hands together as they praised each other for the good work while packing the pieces of equipment. For a moment, you relished in the feeling of finally being free from work as you stretched your arms. The relief was short-lived though when you saw your senior approaching Yukhei, the sight reminding of the extra task which you had to complete before you could treat yourself for a meal. Your thoughts flew to Johnny as you had yet to notice his presence. Quickly checking your phone, there was no incoming calls or texts from the young man. Well, there was nothing much you could do anyway. He would appear when he arrived later.

Carrying the camcorder in one hand and the tripod stand in another, you dragged yourself to where Yukhei and your senior were situated. However, it wasn't long before Yukhei came to the rescue by helping you carry the burdensome tripod stand. You couldn't even protest when he wordlessly took it away from you so you only pointed him where it was supposed to be and muttered a soft thank you before he returned to the seat beside your senior. Once you had finished setting up, you gave your senior a thumbs up ㅡ a cue for her to conduct the interview.

"I'm glad you could join today for our interview! I swear, it's hard to have your time these days!" Your senior started off as she set a comfortable atmosphere for the session, in which he waved his hand off while chuckling in delight. "As a start, why not you tell me about yourself?"

The words that came afterwards became a buzzing noise in your head as you watched Yukhei conversed candidly with her through the LCD screen. The sight painfully reminded you of the good times you had with him previously, and it would have stayed the same if you weren't a coward to run away and dealt your relationship with him. Till this day, you felt the guilt gnawing on your existence as you left him hanging. Now that he was right in front of you, you were afraid of the imminent confrontation ㅡ if he wished to talk about it, that is.

Your thoughts were disrupted when you heard a peal of high-pitched laughter coming from your senior, probably laughing over a funny incident which Yukhei shared with her. She was so smitten, and you couldn't blame her for falling for his charms though. You were once in her spot as well. Yet, you couldn't ignore the jealousy that was brewing within you when you witnessed Yukhei burst out laughing too. Come on, it's just an interview. You're not his girlfriend anyway.

"Wow, what a childhood you had." Your senior wiped away the stray tear due to the laughter before she continued. "Now, I'm sure fans are curious about your love life. Is there anyone who has managed to capture your heart recently?"

Despite your poised position from your seat, your hands kept wringing to ease the nerves. Her question shouldn't affect you as much if you didn't have feelings for him, and yet here you were secretly hoping that you have a chance with him. Yes, you were selfish. But how could you not when he had been invading your mind for the past years when you and Yukhei were apart?

"Uhm... how should I say this?" He paused, his finger touching on his cheek repeatedly as he considered his response. "I did confess to the girl that I like a few years back, and I'm still waiting for her response honestly."

"She's definitely lucky to have someone as loyal as you. Do you have something to say to her? You can face the camera if you like." Your senior ushered to the device and you swore your breath hitched when he looked at the camera as if he was staring directly at your soul instead. Nevertheless, you adjusted the camcorder in such a way where it would focus solely on him before he cleared his throat.

"Hey... it's been a while since we last spoke to each other. I probably scared you away with the confession, and I'm sorry about that. To be honest, I miss you so much. It definitely felt different when you left. There are so many things to talk about. Let's meet soon, shall we? My number's still the same." He decided to cut short the message before his emotions caught in his throat.

Despite avoiding eye contact, Yukhei noticed how you were hastily packing up once the interview had come to an end. You only turned your head when your senior gave you further instructions before she headed to the exit, leaving Yukhei and you alone in the spacious studio. He was quick to take the tripod stand once again, and you knew how stubborn Yukhei could be from the years of friendship, so you let him follow you to the back of the studio where most of the items were stored.

"Don't you miss me?"

"You can place it there." You deflected his question by pointing to where it was supposed to be. His eyebrow was slightly raised at your obvious attempt to avoid the discussion, yet he still followed your order in the end before he turned around to face you and had his hands resting on his hips.

"Don't you have anything to say to me?"

"Look, your job here is done. What am I suppose to say anyway?" You finally held eye contact with him after so long, but your critical tone set him off.

"Well, I don't know! Anything!" He lifted both of his hands in exasperation. "Oh, why not we start with why the fuck did you leave without saying goodbye? Heck, you're even uncontactable ever since!"

"Yukhei, please. Can we have this conversation next time? I still have my work to do." It was just the beginning, yet you felt your energy draining before he harshly grabbed your shoulders.

"When? The next thing I knew, you'll run off again. I'm not going to let it happen this time. Not under my watch." He spat before he inhaled deeply and ended it off with a heavy sigh. "Can't we just go back to being friends again? Is it too much to ask for?"

His eyes were full of emotions, whirling aimlessly within his pupils. Yet, all he could see was how hollow your eyes were all this time ㅡ a black hole void of emotions. The hands which held you captive soon returned to his side when Johnny's voice reverberated as he shouted for your name.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Johnny stopped his tracks at the doorway, feeling wary of his next movements.

"Nah. He's leaving now anyway." Yukhei was mildly taken aback by your sudden change in demeanour as you smiled sweetly at Johnny, but he didn't let his emotion show.

"Come join us as well. It's been a while since we all gather together," Johnny invited Yukhei as the former approached closer to the both of you.

"It's okay. I've to get back to work." With a wave, Yukhei turned down the offer nicely before he patted Johnny on the shoulder as he left the place, not forgetting to assure the older man that Yukhei would catch up with them next time.

It was only a few seconds after Yukhei took his leave when you followed suit, heading to the lounge room while Johnny trailed behind you with no words being exchanged upon sensing your sour mood.

Without a word, Johnny set up the lunch on the glossy white table while still keeping an eye on your expression. You remained impassive as you thanked for the meal before consuming your food silently. It was barely a few bites when Johnny couldn't take the deafening silence anymore.

"I overheard the conversation." You frowned at the revelation. You placed your chopsticks down and wiped your mouth with a napkin, ready to retort. However, Johnny didn't let you when his hand was shoved close to your mouth.

"Yukhei didn't deserve that, you know." Once again, you were ready to snap when he shushed you sharply, mildly irritated by your need to fight back.

"He talked about it. About how you left him, left us, without a word. You shouldn't give him a cold treatment when all this while he's been blaming himself for ruining the friendship between the two of you." If Johnny wanted you to feel guilty, he did a great job. You were unable to meet him in the eye as a sigh escaped from your lips.

"I was scared, Johnny. Scared of the commitments I have to bear if I were to accept both his feelings and the job offer back then. I'm trying to prevent ourselves from getting hurt any further."

"Well, you hurt him nonetheless." He cut in, earning a scowl from you before your features softened, knowing deep down that he was right.

"You can't just push him away just because you are scared. You should've discussed it to him. I'm sure you guys can work things out." You lost your appetite by the time the waterworks started, and you were thankful that Johnny was there with you as he consoled you with a warm embrace.

"I've fucked things up real bad, right?" You managed to utter in between your sobs.

"No, sweetheart. He's still waiting for you, you know. Just talk to him, alright? I don't want to see my friends hurt anymore."

You knew you couldn't evade from the inevitable. Yukhei needed this. You needed this. No point distancing yourself from him when you wanted him as much as he did.

There is no way you are running away this time.

#happy belated bday to our big baby #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #nct u #nct lucas #wong lucas #wong yukhei #nct 2018 #wayv #wayv yukhei #yukhei scenarios #yukhei imagines #lucas scenarios #lucas imagines #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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angelstrenchcoat-67 · 6 years ago

Text

Our Song: XO (By John Meyer)

Pairing: AU Dean x reader, Eventual Cas x reader

Warnings: None… yet.

Series Summary: The Lafitte and the Winchesters have known each other since little kids. As they grew, so did the love between the youngest Lafitte and the oldest Winchester. But not everything is a fairy tale, promises get broken and hearts break. Until a pair of dreamy blue eyes come in the picture.

Author’s Note: This story is co written by the lovely @mypassionsarenysins who has the best ideas ever. Every chapter has a different song as a name.

PART 3

(Not my gif, I got it from @castiels-tight-grip, thank you for blessing us with this amazing gif set)

"Riot, you either calm down or so God help me, I will have you sleep outside, I swear" I glare at the dog as she keeps barking like crazy at the door. "I'm gonna answer the door and you are going to behave, okay?"

She just raises one ear, her head tilting a little to the side as I turn around to reach for the door knob. "You got this, Lafitte" I give myself some encouraging words before opening the main door.

He's standing there as the chilly octuber air pushes his hair back, a beige trench coat covering his blue demin jacket that's tucked into his black jeans. I try to recover myself after checking him out but based on the tiny smirk he has on his face, I'm not doing a good job.

"Hello" Cas is the first one to speak, placing a bouquet of sunflowers in front of me that I didn't realize he was holding. "I brought you these"

"Thank you" I smile as I reach for them, our fingers connecting for a couple of seconds, sending shivers down my spine. "Do you want to come in while I put them in water?"

"Sure" He nods so I stand aside to give him enough space to walk in but when he is at my side, he leans in to press a chast kiss on my cheek. "I forgot to mention how gorgeous you look"

He gives me a quick wink when he notices my blush before turning to a hyperactive Riot. "And who's this pretty gal here?"

"That's Riot" I answer as I walk to the kitchen to look for a pretty container for my flowers. "She is a handful, that's for sure"

"She is gorgeous" Cas grins at me as I walk back into the living room with the flowers in a base. "Are we ready to go now?"

"Yes" I place the base at the center of my coffee table. "We can go know"

Cas follows me as I grab my black coat, also wrapping a burgundy scarf around my neck. "Do you mind if we walk? The weather outside is really nice"

"Not at all" I smile at him as I open the door, making sure that Riot doesn't scape. "There's a café a few blocks away, it's really pretty"

"Sounds great" He walks out as I lock the door behind me, hiding his hands in his pockets.

"Shall we?" I raise my eyebrow and he nods so we start walking towards the sidewalk.

"So, not that I'm complaining but what made you agree on this date?" Cas looks down at a me as we walk next to each other, our arms colliding every once in a while.

"Uh, not gonna lie, I wasn't sure at first" I bite the side of my lip. "But Sam really helped. He is my best friend before anyone else, even Jess, so I tell him everything, well almost everything. I was feeling a little anxious but he told me what I needed to hear, I guess"

*Flashback*

"I don't know what to do" I groan against the pillow as I hide my blushing face in it.

"You want to say yes, Y/N" Sam chuckles, sipping at his whiskey. "If you didn't, you wouldn't be here, you would have said no by now"

"It's not that easy, Sam" I groan, placing the pillow back on the couch.

"Do you like him?" He asks me.

"I-I think so, I mean, I do. Everything it's just so weird" I huff, throwing my head back.

"Then go, see how it goes. It's just a date, if you don't feel comfortable after it, than you don't have to do anything anymore" Sam gives my hand a light squeeze as I look up at him.

“And... mmm... Is that okay with you? I mean, I was dating your brother four months ago" I bite my bottom lip, trying to read Sam's face.

"I just want to see you happy, Y/N. I don't care if it is with Dean or Cas or even single. You deserve every little bit of happiness that comes your way" He reassures me, giving me his classic Sam smile.

*End of flashback*

“So I have to thank Sam” Cas grins as he looks down at our feet.

“I guess” I chuckle. I feel the side of his hand brush against mine as me take a couple of steps down the street. I don’t know if he is doing it un purpose but I can help feeling a little giddy inside, my heart beating faster with every soft touch.

“So, tell me more about the bakery” Cas speaks again, interrupting the silence.

“Oh, yes” I remember I mentioned it at lunch. “It all started as a joke. Jess and I would spent most of our time baking, mostly just for us and Sam and D... And I said that we should open a bakery but we forgot about it until we were talking with Balthazar, a friend of ours, and he said he would invest”

“Hey that’s great” Cas beams, his hand touching mine for longer now. “But what are you going to do with your jobs?”

“We are not gonna quite, we plan on getting like a regular staff and Jess and I will go there whenever we can” I explain. “Balthazar is gonna do most of the managing so we hope it works out”

“I’m sure it will” He smiles at me as we turn around the corner, hands almost touching.

I decide to be a little bold, first interlacing our fingers. Cas almost jumps, looking down at our hands before moving his eyes back to me. I give him a small smile, encouraging him so he takes my hand completely in his.

We keep walking like this until we reach the coffee shop, hand in hand, a few smiles hare and there as we steal glances of each other. There’s a heavy feeling in my stomach, like it’s pushing my insides out, threatening to scape my lips as a giggle.

In the darkest night hour I’ll search through the crowd Your face is all that I see

The rest of the date goes the exact same way, Cas occasionally reaching for my face to give it a soft caress or to tug a hair behind my ear. Cas irradiates a warmth that makes it impossible for me to even try to stay away, it pulls me in a way that engulfs me and I don’t want to fight it. Every time I find those blue eyes, they drown me like an ocean, pulling me deeper into them to the pint where there’s no way I can get out.

He walks me back home, his hand more firm grasping mine. He stops while we are walking under a tree to remove a couple of orange leaves that have tangles in my hair, his strong fingers running down my hair.

“I wish this could’ve last longer” Cas sighs as we stand at my porch.

“I know, I hate my schedule” I groan since today I have the late shift.

“Well, you are helping save lives so that’s good” He points out. “I can’t keep you all to myself, no matter how much I want to”

“We can do this another time” I bite the bottom of my lip, my hands shaking as I reach for his hand.

“Yes, please” He sighs, using his empty hand to reach for my middle. He pulls me closer to him before dropping his forehead to mine. “Can I kiss you?”

I fear that if I speak up, I might make a fool of myself so instead I just nod. He lets go of my hand to reach for my chin, tilting my head a little as he moves his face slowly closer to mine.

And there it is. His lips touch mine in a way that sends shivers down my spine. It’s sweet and soft but the feeling that it gives me is so intense that I have to grab his coat for stability.

You better kiss me Before our time is run out Nobody sees what we see They’re just hopelessly gazing

Cas pulls a away a few seconds later, a big smile taking over his lips. “Thank you for today”

“It was my pleasure, Cas” My voice comes out a little higher than usual.

“And as much as I hate it, I have to leave” He gives me another kiss, this time on the cheek. “Good bye, Y/N”

“Castiel” I beam so he winks at me before turning around to walk to his car.

I don’t know how I managed to open the door with my shaking hands. Before closing the door, I look back at Cas, my cheeks blushing as he keeps his blue eyes on me, a soft smile playing over his lips.

God those eyes.

---

"Deaan" Her high pitched voice breaks the deep silence as Dean twirls his rum, the ice clicking against the glass. "Where are you?"

"Right here" He groans, almost wishing he could make her go away with his tone.

"I've been calling you for the last five minutes" Lisa complains as she stands in the middle of the living room. "We need to go buy more baby stuff"

"We spent like a thousand dollars last week, why do you need more?" Dean frowns, bringing up to his lips the remaining liquid.

"This is our first baby together, Dean. We have to spoil him as much as we can" She rolls her eyes before walking over to the empty spot on the couch next to Dean. "C'mon, let's go to bed and I'll make it up to you"

"Not in the mood, Lisa" Dean pushes away her hand that was reaching for his thigh.

"Is this because of that... that whore?" She snarls, her eyes closing on Dean.

Dean head immediately snaps at her direction, jaw tightening as his eyes narrow down at her. "Don't you dare call her that, you hear me?"

"God, you are so stupid. While you try to defend her, she is climbing in that guy's bed" Lisa stares back at Dean, waiting for his reaction.

"What guy?" Dean frowns, his heart pumping blood faster at the idea of Y/N with someone else.

"The one that keeps sending her flowers down at the hospital. What was his name?" Lisa pretends to think for a couple of seconds. "Cas... Oh yeah, Castiel"

"Castiel? Why does that name sound familiar?" Dean mumbles, trying to remember where he heard the name. "Wait, isn't that Sam's co worker?"

"Dont know, don't care" She shrugs before standing up, her hand reaching for her growing belly. "But now you know she is not a saint"

"How do you know about the flowers?" Dean stops her.

"Gossip in the hospital runs fast" She turns around to glare at Dean. "Why do you care so much? I'm your fianceé, Dean, and I'm expecting your baby. You need to worry about us, not about that stupid woman who clearly doesn't care about you anymore"

"I told you to watch your lenguage when you talk about her" Dean yells at her, almost slamming the glass over the coffee table.

"Listen to yourself, Dean" Lisa cries as Dean stands up, reaching for his jacket. "You are defending her over me, the mother of your child! You are not being fair, I deserve to be treated like your priority. But you prefer to get drunk while she is probably rolling over another guy's bed. You are pathetic"

Dean ignores her, pushing past her as he reaches for the door. Pulling on the neck of his leather jacket, he turns to Lisa, who is eyes are focused on his hand on the door. “I’m going out” “Of course you are” She laughs sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Go ahead and drink all the bars in this town, that’s not gonna change anything, Dean” “Don’t wait up” Dean speaks over her voice before disappearing through the door. As he walks to his car, he pulls out his phone, ready to dial a number that he’s been dialing a lot lately. “Hey, can you meet me at the bar?” “Damn, Dean” Benny scoffs. “It’s 6 pm, give your liver a break” “Did you know your sister has a boyfriend?” Dean’s voice comes out hoarse, raw, like it pains him to say that, because it does. “What? Y/N?” Benny frowns as he gets up from the couch, the movie he was watching now clearly forgotten. “I don’t know, do you have any other sister that I don’t know of?” Dean huffs, gripping tight the steering wheel. “No need to get your panties on a twist, Winchester” Benny laughs as he walks to his room, looking for Andrea. “Y/N is with someone else, I have the right to have everything on a twist” Dean groans as he drives through the roads towards the place that has been his home lately, The Roadhouse. "So, did you know?” “No, to be completely honest, she hasn’t been very talkative with me lately" Benny mumbles, remembering the last conversation that she had with his sister which wasn’t very pleasant. "But I don't get you man! If you still care about her and all of this shit, then why did you guys break up?” “It’s complicated” Dean bites the inside of his lips, feeling like a piece of shit for acting like this after everything he did. "So, are you coming?” “You know, Andrea is starting to dislike your calls” Benny jokes, even though he knows that Andrea doesn’t really mind as long as he behaves. "I’ll meet you there” --- There’s a comforting silence as I walk around the house, only Riot’s softs snores as she sleeps in the living room. I find myself smiling everyone in a while without meaning to, and I know it’s because of a certain pair of gorgeous eyes. “What id happening?” I giggle into my hands, the ringing of my phone interrupting me. “Hello?” “Hi Y/N” Cas’s voice sounds smooth as my name rolls of his tongue. “Oh, hey” I bite the bottom of my lip, trying to hold back the grin that was threatening to become even bigger all over my face. "I just wanted to tell you that I got home” Cas is no different, the smile that is playing on his lips is the one of a school boy who just told his crush he liked her. "You could’ve texted that” I giggle, not really complaining that he chose to call. “Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice” Cas admits, sending the butterflies in my stomach in a stampede. “Is this okay?” “Yes” I try to sound as cool as I can but I know the glee is noticeable. "It’s more than okay” “So I can be assured that this is not one sided?” Cas asks teasingly but I can tell that he is actually curious about what my answer is going to be. “I would’t have kissed you if it was” I confess, my cheeks heating up after my boldness. “Don't remind me of that because I’m seconds away from getting in my car so that I can kiss you again” Cas sighs, sending my heartbeat out of control. Is he even human? “I wouldn’t oppose to that” I hide my face in the pillows of the couch, embarrassed by how open I’m being. “Don’t temp me, Sweetheart” Cas laughs, liking my reaction to him. “At what time do you have to be at the hospital?” “At 10pm” I say, looking at the clock as it marks 7:54. “I hate the bight shift I swear” “Maybe you should rest before you go, sleep a couple of ours" Cas suggests. “We can talk another time” “Okay” I agree, already feeling my eyes heavy. “Can I... Can I drive you to work?” Cas asks shyly. “It’s really late, Cas” I twist my bottom lip. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind really” I giggle like a school girl so he laughs along. “But I don’t want you to stay up because of me” “Nonsense” He stops me. “I’ll be there around 9:30. Is that okay?” “Perfect” I hold the phone tighter against my ear. “I’ll see you later then” “See ya” Cas replies and I can even picture him winking at me. I put my phone in my back pocket and before I can wake up Riot, my doorbell rings. I huff a little as I drag my feet to the door, reaching my hand to open the door. “Hey” Jess’s big smile greets me as she stands in front of Sam. “Are we interrupting something?” “She wants to know if Cas is still here” Sam rolls his eyes, laughing when Jess glares at him. “No, he left after the date” I tell them as I open the door enough so they can walk in. “How was it?” Jess asks excitedly as she sits down on a stool near the kitchen counter while Sam immediately looks for Riot who is already running to him. “It was great” I try to keep my lips in a thin line but I fail miserably when Jess wiggles her eyebrows. “Stop it” “Where did you go?” Sam asks as he scratches the back of Riot’s ears. “We went for coffee because I have the night shift and everything. The day looked lovely so we walked and it was really nice” I sit next to Jess, placing my head on her shoulder. “Did you kiss?” Jess giggles as she looks down at me, a spark in her eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “Jessica” I laugh, my cheeks betraying me. “You are impossible I swear” “I’ll take that as a yes” She beams before standing up. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” “Not at all” I shake my head so she walks out of the room towards the bathroom under the stairs. “Hey” Sam calls my attention as he looks down at the hall Jess just walked out of. “I need your help” “What is it?” I frown as Sam looks for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a blue velvet box, revealing a diamond ring. “Holy fuck. Is that what I think it is?” “I know” Sam laughs, putting the box back in his pocket. “I shouldn’t be carrying it around so openly” “Yeah, one would think so” I huff. “So, when are you planing on doing it?” “I was thinking to do it in front of all the family, like have a special moment” He explains. “I want you to help me plan it out, maybe like a dinner or something” “We are gonna need an excuse, tho” I try to think of any festivities that are coming up that might help us. “The closest thing is Thanksgiving and that’s like almost three weeks from now” “Well that would give us enough time to plan something pretty” He points out. “Can I count on you?” “Absolutely” I grin, standing up to wrap Sam in a hug. “I’m so happy for you. I love you” “I love you, too” Sam smiles against my hair as he plants a kiss on my head. “Thank you” A couple of seconds later Jess comes in, completely oblivious about our conversation. “Sam, I forgot I was supposed to send Balthazar some papers that I got from the architect and he needs them asap” “Yeah and I have to sleep at least an hour before Cas comes” I chuckle, walking over to the door. “What?” Jess frowns as I bite my lip, realizing what I just said. “He is driving me to work, no big deal” I shrug, trying to not make it sound like a big deal. “Wear the blue scrub, not the light green one, it looks better” Jess winks at me, causing Sam to roll his eyes. “Okay, Jess” I laugh before hugging her. “See ya” “See ya, love” She squeezes me tight before letting go. “Bye, kiddo” Sam gives me a hug before following his soon-to-be fiancé. --- “Oh fuck” I groan as I burn myself with the curling wand as the doorbell goes off causing Riot to start barking like crazy. “Riot! Stop” I sprint down the stairs, running my hands through my hair to make it more natural. “I’m coming” I yell, almost sure that it’s Cas who’s outside. I open the door, making sure that Riot is not close so that she cannot scape. My brain has not gotten used to how perfect Cas is because as soon as I see him, I feel my breath getting caught in my throat. “Everything okay?” He grins as Riot pushes my legs, trying to get to the door. “You seem put of breath” “Yeah, I’m fine” I try to breath normally, stepping aside so that Cas can walk in, holding onto Riot’s collar. “Riot’s just a handful” “Hi” He ignores me, leaning down to press a kiss on my cheek. “You smell amazing” “Thanks” I blush as he bends down to scratch Riot’s head. “Give me five minutes to finish getting ready” “Sure” He winks at me as Riot throws herself on the floor, taking all of Cas’s attention. That lucky bitch. I run back upstairs, looking for my bag to put in everything I need. After changing into my scrub and brushing my teeth, I join Cas downstairs. “I’m ready” I announce which makes him look up from Riot to me. A look flashes his eyes as he walks over to me, causing my legs to tremble. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to looking at you” Cas brings his hand up to tuck a hair strand behind my ear. “You are so beautiful” “Thank you” I lean in to kiss his cheeks, allowing my lips to lay there for a couple of seconds. “Let’s go, I don’t want you to be late because of me” Cas reaches for my hand and I try to not make a big deal out of it. I close the main door behind me with my free hand as Cas is nowhere close of letting me go. I don’t mind it one bit. We walk to his car hand in hand, his thumb rubbing circles in the back of my hand. He opens the door for me before walking over to his side, a grin on his face that I don’t ignore. “Do you need me to pick you up later?” He asks me as he starts the car, one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other one in the center console. I decide to be a little bold, taking his hand in mine. “It’s okay, I think I can ask Charlie to drop me off” “Are you sure? I don’t mind” Cas looks at me as we reach a red light. “I know you don’t” I smile, leaning over to press a kiss on his shoulder. Y/N, control yourself woman! But I can’t! He is wearing that dark blue t shirt and black jeans and it’s making me feel some type of way. “I let you know if Charlie can’t take me” I wrap myself around his arm, cuddling into him. “What has gotten into you?” Cas gives me a quick glance, smirking down at me. “Oh, sorry” I blush, pulling away a little. “No no, I’m not complaining” He pulls me back closer to him. “I really like it actually” “Okay” I barely speak, trying to control my heart beat. We drive in silence, Cas constantly looking down at me as I hide my face in his neck, blushing when he catches me staring at him. “God, you are cute” Cas grins as he takes a turn, a wide smile on his face. “Why didn’t Sam introduced us sooner?” “I think it’s better like that. The last couple of months haven’t been my best moments” I chuckle, remembering all the days I spent crying my eyes out as I felt Dean’s empty side of the bed. “But it’s getting easier. You make it easier” “I’m glad I can be of service” Cas turns his head slightly to plant a kiss on my forehead. “As much as it pains me to say this, we are here” “I don’t want to go” I groan, sitting up straighter as I finally let go of his arm. “Trust me, I don’t want you to” He brings his hand up to cup my cheek. “Let me know if you need me to come” “You let me know when you get home” I lean into his touch, loosing myself in his eyes. “Thank you” “No problem, Sweetheart” Cas sighs and I can sense the internal fight that’s going on in his mind. “You can kiss me if you want to” I speak, not thinking my words through. But it seems like that was all he needed because soon he is grabbing my chin to pull my lips closer to him. And then there’s that feeling again, when our lips finally meet for one more time. I bring my hand up to grip his arm, trying to pull myself closer to him. His lips are like silk against mine, marking the most sinful yet romantic trace over mine. “Now I definitely don’t want to go” I whisper against his lips as I pull away slightly, keeping our foreheads connected. I use my thumb to touch his lips, smiling when he grabs my hand to kiss the palm. “Go” Cas’s voice is husky as he closes his eyes, giving my nose a kiss. "Before I drive off with you” “It’s not a bad idea” I smirk, placing my arms around his neck. He shakes his head so I plant one last kiss. “Goodbye” “Go kick ass” He winks at me as I open the door, stepping out of the car. “Always” I return the wink with one of my own, obviously not nearly as hot as his. --- “I'm gonna pull the car around" Charlie explains as she looks for the car keys in her bag. "It wont take long"

“Okay” I yawn as I nod, not really paying attention to what he is saying. “I’ll wait right here” Charlie walks away as the soon barely starts to appear in the sky. I check my phone for the hour, the big numbers telling me it’s barely 6 am. As I look up from my phone, a black slick 67 chevy impala that I know by heart pulls up, a pair of green apple eyes behind the wheel. “Fuck me” I groan, turning around slightly to give my back to them. “Babe, remember that we have to go look for crips for our baby” Lisa basically yells as she gets of the car. I want to know which Gods did I piss off to deserve this kind of torture. I keep my eyes ahead, praying that Cas’s car shows up anytime soon. I can feel Dean’s burning gaze on me but I don’t dare to look back. “Oh, hi Y/N” Lisa pretends to not have noticed me until she is close enough. “I almost didn’t recognize you. The night shift is definitely causing some effects on you...” “Don’t you have patients to see, Lisa?” I try to control my voice. “I think that’s more important than whatever is that you’re trying to do here” “Someone’s not in a good mood. One would think that after a date, you’d be in a good” Lisa teases and I can tell Dean is waiting for a reaction from me. “What was the problem? Was he like ugly or what?” “Why do you want to know? Are you planing on sleeping with him, too?” I raise my eyebrow to which she just huffs. “Lisa, just go. I know you are not exactly the best tool in the box but they still need you in there” “Fine, but just because standing up for too long is bad for Dean Jr” She gives me a smirk, trying to drill into my brain that she is pregnant with Dean’s baby. I watch as she walks away before moving my eyes back to Dean, just as he is getting of the Car. “Oh no, Dean. Not now” “Is it true?” He asks me, walking over to me. “You really are seeing someone?” “Well, you started seeing someone even when we were together so I don’t see why this is relevant” I roll my eyes before turning away to keep looking for Charlie. “Please tell me that it’s nothing serious” He pleads, reaching for my arm. “I’m not pregnant like Lisa, if that’s what you’s asking” I pull my arm away from him. “Dean, seriously you need to stop this. You have a pregnant woman who literally was here just a few seconds ago. If you didn’t have respect to me, at least have respect for your baby" "Do you need a ride home? I can take you” Dean offers, reaching for my hand again. “No, thank you" I shake my head but then I remember something. "There's actually something we need to talk about"

"What is it?" Dean's eyes open un with hope ghosting over them. "If you want we can go for a coffee?"

"No, I'll be quick" I shift on my spot, a sudden sadness settling over my heart as I remember when Dean used to pick me up then we would get coffee after making out in the back seat of his car. "Mmm... Did Sam mentioned anything to you? Something about Jess?"

"That he is planning to propose? Yeah, he called me to ask me what I thought" Dean leans back into the hood of the impala, looking up at me. "I told him I wasn't the best when it came to that topic but that he should do whatever made him happy"

"Well, he asked me to help him out and we think it's going to happen over Thanksgiving. We are going to plan a dinner back in Lawrence and it's gonna be a surprise of course" I explain to Dean and I know he is remembering our engagment. "We need to talk about Lisa. Dean, no one, besides me, knows you are having a baby. Hell, no one even knows she exists. We need to come up with a plan to cover this up without looking suspicious, because you are gonna have to take her to that dinner"

"We? Why are you doing this, Y/N? After what I did, you keep trying to help me out and honestly, I deserve whatever comes if they find out" Dean shrugs it off, but I can tell he is scared of his family finding out.

"Because, as much as it pains me to say this, I still care about you Dean. I know how much your family means to you and I don't want to ruin that because of what happened between us" I give him a sympathetic look, hating myself a bit for still being such a softie for him. "Look, just bring her over for thanksgiving, say that she is just 2 months pregnant, instead of four. We'll say that we broke up but that we remained friends and that I introduced her to you and we'll just take it from there"

"I don't think I should take her at all" Dean bites into his lip as Charlie's yellow beattle shows up around the corner.

"Dean, she is pregnant with your baby. Trust me, I hate Lisa and if it was up to me, she'd be gone by now. But that baby inside of her doesn't have to deal with the consequences of your actions, he deserves better than that" I try to reason with him as Charlie pulls up next to us. "I have to go but think about it" I know that what I'm about to do is dirty but it's the only way I know Dean is gonna listen. "For me"

He looks up from his hands to me, tears forming in his eyes. "Okay"

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

Heyyy please dont hate me, this took me so long but I promise you that I will start writting more! Love youu

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peterporkerpeter · 6 years ago

Text

Code Red — Part Four [Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader]

MASTERLIST//CR MASTERLIST

WC: 2.400

Right on cue, Axel Klein turned around, his large frame smacking straight into Y/N. The flustered girl managed a fake gasp, her acting skills impressive to say the least. She felt his limbs lock around her arms, his touch much less sensual and intimate than Peter's. She felt cold to the touch.

"I am so sorry!" He gasped, steadying Y/N, electric blue eyes piercing her own. They were icy and intrusive; Peter's were warm and inviting.

Y/N let out a nervous chuckle, quickly pondering on a quick accent. British? French? German? French. "It's fine! Happens to the best of us. Wait a minute," a bright smile glowing with youth and innocence flushed across her features, "you're . . . Alex Klein, right?"

The blonde headed boy nodded proudly, admiring the artificial accent. Y/N glanced down at the empty champagne glass balanced between his fingertips, thankful that the man had downed his drink before accidentally running into her. He placed the glass onto a nearby table, directing his full attention to Y/N.

"Sorry, it's just your professor teaches Chemistry in the university my older sister is enrolled in," Y/N said smoothly, gently folding her hands together.

Axel bit down on his lip, hard eyes running up and down her body. He drank in her curves, his mouth practically salivating at the intricate design of her dress. And the color—the color was amazing. He couldn't take her eyes off of her. She was tall and proud, her eyes open an attentive. The pinkness of her cheeks made her appear young and youthful.

"My, that is a stunning dress you are wearing. But that's great! Do you attend university as well?" He questioned.

"Thank you," Y/N shook her head bashfully. "And no, not currently. I'm taking a gap year to focus more on expanding my parent's gallery. I appreciate the arts."

Axel approached the girl, his breath reeking of bitter alcohol. He placed his hand on the small of her back, ushering Y/N away from the crowd and towards the series of beautiful artworks aligning the beige walls. She tried to remain relaxed, forcing her shoulders to relax beneath his freezing touch. Her nerves had skyrocketed as his fingers continued to trail further down.

"What a fucking asshole," Peter muttered over comms. Y/N bit down on the inside of her cheek to stifle her laughter.

"Holy shit! Peter, watch your language. I didn't even know you had a mouth on you like that. God."

"S-sorry! Sorry, Mr. Stark, I forgot comms were on. I'm still getting used to this."

"You're forgiven, Spider-ling."

"I-it's just—"

"I know."

Y/N leaned closer in towards Axel, the aroma of his cologne overbearing and practically suffocating. She swallowed hard, the smile on her face soft and genuine like that of a light and feathery cloud. Her dark eyes admired the painting in front of her. She knew exactly what is was: Black Lines, an abstract painting by Vasikly Kandinsky. Axel looked at her curiously, eyes flickering towards her luscious lips.

"Vasikly Kandinsky," she sighed, turning her head towards Axel. Their faces were close. Her stomach churned at the uneasy smile curving up onto his lips.

"Tell me about it, Miss . . ." he hummed, hoping for a name.

"Granger," Y/N stuck out her hand, saying the first name that had come to mind. "Veronica Granger."

"You're not fucking serious."

"I didn't know she knew anything about art?"

"Y/N has like a billion art history books. Did you not know she's taking an art history course online?" Peter continued to watch from far away, standing beside Wanda.

"What, are you her stalker now?" Tony teased.

Peter's eyes widened. "N-no! I-I just—she has art books in her room—"

"And why were you in her room, young man?"

"Studying!"

"Okay, yeah, sure. Studying. Whatever you say, kid."

"It's true!"

Axel took Y/N's small hand into his, shaking it gently. He pulled it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles before allowing their hands to tangle. Something in eyes sent fear surging through her veins. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. All she knew was that she had a bad feeling. "Lovely to meet you, Miss Veronica Granger."

"And you," she gave a sultry grin. "Now, the painting is Black Lines. I find it odd that this painting is here—displayed in the main halls. It's abstract, contemporary, unlike the others. But art doesn't really have a place—it's not categorized, it just kind of is. Art is not about what you see—well, it can be, but it's mostly about what it makes you feel."

"Interesting," he murmured, staring deeply into the painting. He managed a scoff. "It looks almost like a five-year-old drew it."

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. "Maybe so, but look at the harsh lines. They're dark and angry. Agitated almost. Tell me, Axel Klein, what do you feel when you look at the painting?" She leaned in, their lips hovering over each other. She gazed deeply into his eyes, receiving nothing but absence in return.

"I-I don't know," he stuttered.

Y/N ran her fingers gently down his arm, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. She rotated her head back towards the painting, Axel's pupils still cast upon her curved jaw.

"That's a perfectly acceptable answer. Sometimes art is confusing. That's what makes it real," Y/N whispered, continuing to look at the painting. The lines were harsh, yet the bright hues conjured something else to ignite within her. He was certainly right. It was perplexing—perplexing in a way that was honest and refreshing. "Now. We could talk about art all night, or you could buy me a drink."

Axel grinned coyly. "That sounds lovely."

"Kid, I don't know if you spewed all out that garbage straight out of your ass or if you actually knew that, but good job."

"That was genius. See, Tony? She's a natural at this."

Y/N and Axel maneuvered through the crowd, his hand still latched tightly onto hers. He stood in front of her, leading the way. Y/N felt her gaze drift over towards Peter who remained against the wall, making indistinct conversation with Wanda. The two made eye contact for a moment, and Peter sent the girl a sympathetic, yet reassuring smile.

"Wait, can Y/N even handle liquor? Kid! Don't get champagne! For the love of God, don't get champagne!"

"Your most expensive wine for me, and a . . ."

Y/N panicked. "Vodka Martini, please. With three olives." Fuck.

"YOU'RE FUCKING LYING."

"You heard what the lady said," Axel grinned at the bartender.

"Y/N, if you go on a bender before this thing is done with, I'm going to lose it."

Y/N stood against the bar, toying absentmindedly with the spaghetti straps of her dress. Steve was just a few people down—she could see him if she turned around, whereas Clint and Natasha remained stationed at one of the clothed tables off towards the opposite side of the room. Several pairs of eyes were trailing her, but one of them was practically trying to burn through the material of her dress.

The bartender slid the expensive glasses to the two, and Axel set down a wad of cash.

"Thank you," Y/N smiled.

"To art," Axel joked. Y/N managed a scoff before clinking their glasses together.

"Quite a creative toast," she said sarcastically.

"What can I say? I'm a creative guy. Anyways, I want to more about you. You're fascinating, Veronica. Mysterious and quite beautiful."

Y/N enjoyed making up her life story. It was riveting, and she relished in the idea of crafting some form of alter ego. In a way, it was cathartic in comparison to her own life. Playing Y/N was difficult and gloomy, but the roll of Veronica Granger was full of light and happiness, architecture and glowing brilliance. Veronica Granger could be whoever she wanted. She was grounded steadily in a world full of chaos.

"I was born and raised in France near the country—that explains the accent you might be curious about—but I moved to the states when I was thirteen. A few years later, I spent another year in France living with my grandmother before she passed away. It was an impressionable time in my life and my grandmother wanted to take me all over. I've seen many beautiful places: the Palace of Versailles, Montmartre, the Château de Chenonceau, Arc de Triomphe, the Canal Saint-Martin. You should visit if you were ever given the opportunity. Architecture is golden there. Everything is. I'm sure a man of your taste would appreciate it the way it should be appreciated."

Axel flashed the girl a dimpled smile. "You seem to know a lot about a lot."

Y/N shrugged. She ran a hand through her hair, craning her neck to the side to show off her jawline, inviting him to smell her pricey perfume.

Peter was listening intently to their conversation over comms. Axel would never know how much Y/N knew. She was brilliant in every way you could be brilliant, and the only he saw was her body and her lips. He didn't care about her dreams, he didn't care about her thoughts. Axel didn't care about her, not that way that he did.

"I know plenty," Y/N responded, taking a sip of her drink. It was bitter, and she hated it, but nonetheless she swallowed her drink and continued to play the part.

"If you know so much," he challenged, "what do you know about me?"

Y/N studied his eyes, trying to take what she could get from the void of uncertainty floating within clear blue skies. She took another hard sip of her drink and leaned forward, her lips grazing over his, reminiscent of the bittersweet taste of alcohol. Seductively, her glittering irises peered into his, pulling Axel into a colorful trance.

"I know you're looking at me like you want to fuck me," she whispered.

Tony sputtered. "WHAT THE FUCK."

"Can she say that? Is that allowed? I feel like I shouldn't be here," Steve panicked.

"I feel like I'm invading on a moment. Can I take out my comms?" Clint groaned.

"I don't want to be here anymore," grumbled Peter.

"Everyone shut the fuck up. She's got him. Please, like she's actually going to sleep with him. Did you say the way she was looking at Peter? Idiots."

"Wait, what?!" Peter shrieked.

"Yeah, what?! There will be no sleeping with anyone in any situation whatsoever! I don't care how she's looking at anyone! Peter, you're not sleeping with Y/N!" Tony screamed.

"I-I never said I wanted to do that! No offense, Y/N. I-I mean, it's not like I wouldn't not want to sleep with you, but I-I should at least take you to dinner first. Right?! RIGHT?!"

Y/N wanted to tell everyone to shut up, but she was already at the top of her game. She was finally about to get in with him.

She mustered up the courage to dip in closer, pressing a sensual kiss promptly against his lips. It lasted a few seconds, and everyone on the comms was screaming their heads off, but the kiss was just the icing on the cake. Axel kissed back, his hand tracing down her back. Y/N stretched her hand back and grabbed his wrist before allowing him to go any further. She pulled away from his lips, a smirk on her lips.

"Playing hard to get?" Axel whispered huskily.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, tilting her head. She batted her lashes at him. "Not at all. I just want to save it all for you. What do you say we get out of here away from prying eyes, Mr. Klein?"

Axel pressed another kiss roughly against her lips. "I'd say that's another brilliant idea of yours."

Y/N grinned, then finished off the last few sips of her drink before joining Axel. He escorted her past the dance floor, back toward the entrance of the museum. She didn't look back as she slipped passed the door, her arm woven around his. She couldn't believe she'd just accomplished the first part of the mission. Was it a miracle?

"Nice job, Y/N. Almost gave me a freaking heart attack, but nice job."

"What can I say, boys? She's a natural."

A car pulled up at the end of the staircase, and Axel hastily opened the door for Y/N. The young girl uttered a quick "thank you" before gathering her elegant dress and slipping inside. The car door shut behind her, and before she knew it she was off.

Y/N clicked the button on her bracelet once. She wouldn't be clicking it the remainder of the night.

Axel Klein's hand traced the silk lining of her skirt, his fingertips ghosting along the slit until he gently laid his hand against her knee. Y/N's breath hitched in her throat. She didn't want him to touch her, but she had to let him. She was so close to finding the item. She internally made a pact to brave it out, vowing to stop it if he went any further.

"That dress really is lovely," Axel commented, his hand slowly moving up towards her thigh. His hot breath lingered on the side of her face, teeth latching around her lobe, tugging gently. Y/N held her breath, hoping he wouldn't discover the ear piece. "Red's my favorite color. Did you know that?"

"I guess it was just pure luck for us to cross path's tonight," Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.

"Or maybe it wasn't," the tone of Axel's voice shifted from the careless to malicious, his grip around her thigh tightening to the point where it hurt. Y/N reached down, trying to pull his hand away, fear etching away at her core. Her blood ran cold when he reached into her ear and pulled out the earpiece. "Y/N Y/L/N. I know a lot about you. You're the magician, right? The witch?"

Y/N swallowed, a tear slipping out of her eye. The expression on her face was a combination of both fear and rage. She tasted copper on her tongue.

"It's a shame. I thought you were kind of pretty," he wiped away the tear and tilted up her chin using his finger. His eyes were cold. "Too bad."

Y/N gasped as she felt a pinch in her neck, a drowsy feeling instantly dispersing like a poison through her veins. Dizziness overcame her, black spots swimming into her vision. Her surroundings began to blur, her legs going numb, her arms soon following.

"Sedative," she mumbled, dropping the accent. She wondered what was being said over comms.

Axel grinned. "Sedative."

Black lines. Cold eyes. Grayness. Darkness.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

TAG LIST: @reallyconfusednowpt2 @-thatgirloverthere- @mca-attack21 @high-functioning-fangirl02 @yourwonderbelle @printedpeterparker @kinghiggins @sugarsweetkiss @dragonfly-flowerbeds @zzeacat @maggieand-theferociousbeast @reanethefirst @shamelessbookaddict @southsidesserpent @enchantedrhoses @alienadvocate @bethanythebold

#peter parker #peter parker series #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker one shot #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spider man: homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland #avengers x reader

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theweddingofthefoxes · 6 years ago

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Keep Close For Warmth

E-rated Clyde Logan x reader fic that I’ve been promising! Have some sweetness and smut.

You'd asked Clyde once, just playfully, what he'd do with a billion dollars. "Besides the obvious -- your family, stuff like that." You really were curious. He wasn't really the sort for sports cars or gold bars or Picasso paintings. His idea of fancy was the sit-down steakhouse, and maybe the kind of scotch only a bartender could really appreciate (though secretly, he was just as happy to drink lemonade). What would he pick?

He surprises you. "Central air conditioning."

"With a billion dollars?"

"Reckon I'd have some left over."

You can't help but laugh. "Just a little bit."

"The rest, I dunno, maybe I can pay some of those Japanese scientists to grow a new arm in a test tube. They can do that now. If you got the money."

"A billion's a lot," you agree.

"But it ain't much good if that one's sweatin' as much as the rest of me."

Summer in Appalachia starts early, end of April, practically, and is syrupy-hot. Even walking as far as the mailbox is like swimming in a pot of cooking oil that's been on the stove a good long while. By ten in the morning, the flowers are wilted, and by three in the afternoon the world is as hazy and bright as the ruins of a nuclear apocalypse. It's not until the sun begins to go down that any beauty emerges -- the pink streaks in the deep blue sky, the pretty owls with faces like dinner plates that roost up in the trees, the thick scatterings of fireflies (though Clyde calls them lightning bugs) just off the roadside. They had fireflies in Baltimore, but not like this.

It is air-conditioned in the bar, though, and that's where you stay for as long as possible. Clyde lets you charge your phone in the outlet that the jukebox is plugged into and plies you with Sprite, like he's a chaperone at a school dance. You go home with him regularly, but you both hate how hot it's become in the past few weeks. Sure, it sounds like it'd be sexy, a leadup-to-a-porno kind of situation, where both parties shed their clothes and get it on. Instead it is misery, and no amount of stripping down to skivvies makes it any better. Even at night, the heat is oppressive, and the fans can only do so much. It'd be like having sex in a sauna, exhausting to think about. You two fool around in your cars instead for now, where the bass of the radio and the movement of your bodies both have the cab shaking on its wheels.

You don't get much of a chance to visit the baking house as the summer progresses anyway, since he's in prison. You don't tell him this, but it sort of only adds to his appeal, that he has a record now, especially since nobody got hurt and there wasn't any malice. He seems surprised you'd bother to stick around, but how could you stay away?

When he's out, he calls you. He tells you again that he missed you, like he hasn't said this a million times before. You feel rather pleased by the prospect of being so missed, even though you missed him too, really badly. He doesn't want to talk much about what happened. He calls it the 'accident', even though the town gossip has made it sound like slamming into that storefront was pretty damn purposeful.

He sounds tired, but he wants to see you. Soon. Not right this moment, not that he says that bald-faced -- he's far too polite for that -- but the tone of his voice says it all. You feel a pang of pity for his weariness and assure him he can have all the time he likes. You two arrange a date to meet up again in a few days, a proper reunion. You want to give him space, time to see his family first. It seems only polite, let the man settle a little bit, but it seems hardly improper to masturbate in anticipation while you wait it out, thinking of being reunited. Steel bars do, in fact, make the heart grow fonder. It's fucked up, and you won't tell him so unless he steers the conversation in this direction himself, but you fantasize about riding him ragged in his cell, maybe having paid off a guard or something. Bad boy.

But when you do see him again for the first time, you are reminded of how goddamn sweet he is, how good it feels to hug him. He looks just the same, at least as much as you can see in the middle of his bear hug, he's had time to shower and properly groom. Look nice for you, that sort of thing. When you pull away, though, you realize one of the arms that is wrapped around you is one you haven't seen before. It's not the inflexible beige plastic one that reminds you of a doll arm, but something far, far more badass.

"God!" you exclaim, taking a closer look at it once you've finally managed to pull yourself away. "Where did you get that?"

"Made it in the prison woodshop," he teases.

"You're so full of shit."

He smiles, like you've told him something far cuter than what you actually said. Though he always says that everything that comes out of your mouth is cute. "Naw, I just decided I was tired of the other one. Got some savin’s, thought I'd hold onto it for a rainy day, but you know what they say. You can't take it with you." Perhaps being without the common comforts and conveniences of the life he loved so much for ninety whole days made him decide he could do a little better.

However, it is clear that when it comes to partners, he thinks there is no upgrading possible. He takes you into the house, letting you know that there is ice cream in the freezer, and beer and wine in the fridge. But you don't get three steps into the front hallway before you stop, delighted. "Air conditioning!"

"Thought it was about time for that, too," he responds, pulling you by the arm like a puppy straining at its leash.

"Thought that was only something for billionaires or whatever," you tease. "I got the money together," he concedes. "I'm glad you like it."

"It's such a relief. Now we can think about something other than how hot it is..." The end of August is normally hot and humid enough to make any man suffer out here, but not in Clyde's updated house. Now, it's almost too cold, though at this time of the year, there's really no such thing. You came over sort of hopeful that you two would get right down to business, but it's been such a joy just talking to him -- really talking, privately, freely talking, without any kind of timer, without anyone else waiting to use the phone. It chases any thoughts of pouncing on him from your head, at least for now, and by the time a natural lull forms in the conversation -- you're now so full of ice cream and white wine, too -- it's late, and he murmurs something about bed. Instead of opening every window and keeping all of your fingers crossed for the mercy of a breeze, you can pull a blanket over you and not want to cry, thanks to the AC. Just as well. The sky was dark with clouds when you had arrived, and you would both be liable to get soaked at some point in the night.

Around two in the morning, you renege on your thoughts about it not being possible to be too cold. You wake feeling like you've been thrown into an icy lake -- geez, how low did Clyde put the temperature? Careful not to disturb him, you sleep out of bed creep over to the new screen that's attached to the wall in the hallway, dial it back from its highest possible setting to one that's a little more reasonable -- at least for a house that's now properly cooled down. You swear you can see your breath...but it's its own reward to snuggle up to Clyde as you return to the tiny spot of warmth you've created and press your face into his broad back.

He's awake after all. "Chilly, hm?"

"Just a little," you whisper. "Did I disturb you?"

"Never did fall asleep."

"You didn't?"

"I was tired but not sleepy. If that makes any sense."

"No, definitely."

"Just wanted to lie down awhile. All quiet and cozy. Plus it was nice watchin' you. That's probably kind of odd."

"It's cute," you promise, and encouraged, he rolls over so your face is pressed to his chest instead. You can't help but laugh. "How do you stay so warm, Clyde? You had that air conditioner set to like, forty degrees."

"Did I?"

"Not literally, but you might as well have."

He gives the sort of smile that makes the liquid dark of his eyes sparkle in the darkness -- this is not the sweet, crooked smile that flashes out at you in many small sparkles like a jewel held up to the sun, but something a little more mischievous. A lot more mischievous. "Suppose I did it on purpose so you'd have to get all nice and close to me."

You give him the softest shove in the world, just something to make that smile deepen a little bit. "Did you really think that far ahead?"

"I like it when you're cuddly."

"You just couldn't wait a couple months for it to start snowing?" This, as if you'd rather be anywhere than cuddling with him.

"Now how am I supposed to think about snow when it ain't even September?" he wants to know, hauling you by the hips so you're sprawled on top of him. His intentions are clear, and you couldn't be gladder that you got up to turn down that AC. You hope he liked the way you looked when you were standing there in the dim shine of the distant porchlight, just in your underwear, you hope, with a flash of sudden wickedness, that this is just the sort of thing he was imagining he would get to come home to while he was, to put it euphemistically, away. He confirms your suspicions by squeezing your ass with the hand that he hasn't put away for the night. "How am I supposed to think about anything at all now that I got you back?"

Down to business. You can't help but gasp a little bit at that. How is he so good at getting you wound so tight when he says such sweet things? You suppose it has to do with how deftly his hand is moving down your thigh, not forceful but purposeful. He's never been the most aggressive one in bed, but you suspect tonight might be different. You wonder if you should tell him how many times you got yourself off while he was gone, but then you're grinding against him and your mind sputters and whirls as if you've been hit in the head with a baseball. Somehow you manage to get your shirt off -- an appetizer -- even though you're still seeing stars.

"You're worth the wait, honey," you whisper to him, and you feel his fingers prying gently at the waistband of your panties.

"Coulda said the same to you," Clyde answers. "Good to hear you didn't have any other little boyfriends in the meantime."

"Nobody else knows how to fuck me right," you assure him, and it is the magic set of words that unlock your reward, the intensity you've been desperate for for the last three months. The gentle tug turns to real, desperate action, and it's only a few seconds before he's got your panties down around your knees -- helped, of course, by the way you lift your hips so he can do it more easily. You reach down and toss them on the floor, then strip him of his boxers just as efficiently. It's like trying to ride the mechanical bull down at the club you've been to with Mellie a couple of times, because he wants to pull you into a kiss and let you undress him and line you up so he can get inside you as quickly as possible, and he's so goddamn strong, there's so much surface area to him, that all you can do is hang on.

"Jesus, beautiful, how'd I get so lucky?" he wants to know, and there is a rasp in his voice that lets you know he is entirely genuine. He slides into you without much trouble at all -- you're sopping, you have been since the moment he rolled onto his side so you could hear his heart beating fast when you buried your face in his chest. Want-want-want. All he wants is you. "Soon as you got here -- knew I had everything I needed." Your hands are tight on his shoulders now, he's already sweating, even in the chill, which you've both pretty much forgotten now. The heat of your blood is all you need, even naked in the cold room. High above, yet somehow sounding no higher than the ceiling, thunder rumbles.

"Tell me you missed me," he whispers as you ride him, trying to keep some precision to it but that's a losing game.

"Missed you so badly," you promise, and he soaks it in, his hand tight around your wrist, waiting for more. Now's the time to tip your hand. "You know that sex shop back in Baltimore I, mm! That I told you about? You know I got a good vibrator there, and I damn near gave myself carpal tunnel thinking about you, using it--" This proves to be another set of magic words as he lets the image fill his mind, there are now two of you, one behind his eyelids desperately getting yourself off all alone, and one riding on top of him, egging him on. "And you, tell me -- tell me you missed me, honey--"

His breath is coming out in little snarls at first, it's hard for him to get it all out, but he manages after a beat or two. "Pretty thing, at least you got to play with your fancy toys. I just got to dream, and you were in all of 'em. Couldn't wait to be inside you, couldn't wait to see your face once I had you comin' -- that thought, that's-- that's the best one. Those faces you pull, those could kill a man--" He won't have long to wait to see what he's been waiting for, of course. You both double down on your efforts, satisfied that the other one has suffered deeply enough during this dry spell. The snarls have turned into loud sounds, each exhale practically a shout, and he likes it when your own sounds get higher, louder, less controlled. "Vibrators don't moan for you, do they?" he wants to know, half a tease, half a boast. "They don't let you know how good you're doin', and you're doin' so damn good--"

And of course he's doing so damn good himself, nobody seems to just know how to buck beneath you like he does -- he's always so eager to impress you, like it's your first night together and if he impresses you, you'll stay. But haven't you always stayed, through everything, even this long recent separation? He rewards you with love and listening, with ice cream and air conditioning, with an orgasm that about stops your heart, and you knew he would, once you got around to it. He loves you so dearly that you'd forgive him if he were shitty in bed but that's just it, he's not. Your fingers leave marks on his shoulders that you kiss better later as he hauls you up to your climax with all of the ease of him picking you up and sitting you on the kitchen counter.

Ever the gentleman, his own orgasm chases after, once he knows you're taken care of he lets himself be selfish and takes you, still not enough might to hurt you but with real abandon. He fills you -- Jesus, it was like he was made to measure, that's how good he feels inside. You don't really know what your face looks like when you come, you don't have a mirror handy or anything like that -- not like you'd have the presence of mind to check even if you did. But his, wow, it's so very worth watching, the way his soft lips twist back into an unhelpable cry, and the way his final pants pour out of his mouth and nose. It is the most intense and innocent kind of desperation, and it's spellbinding. By now, you've both been working so hard that the air conditioning once more becomes a necessity instead of a luxury. By now, the rain is tapping loud against the closed windows, but your breathing is still louder.

Vibrators also do not shake out the blankets, while you're in the bathroom or pull you close when you return, back to where it all started, your head to his chest. You dissolve into giggles -- "I can't breathe!" you say, mock-offended, but you only wiggle far enough away to get a noseful of cool air so you don't suffocate. His whole arm snakes its way around your shoulders, and he rests his chin against your forehead.

"You can breathe now, right?"

"I can breathe now, promise."

"Let's stay like this, hm?"

"I'd like that."

"Missed this a lot too. You layin' here with me, us just havin' idle conversation. Missed that a lot."

There is another soft rumble of thunder beneath the pattering of rain, and you're pleased to find that he hasn't bothered to put his boxers back on as you adjust your position beside him. "Just cuddling for warmth, you know."

"I'm quite fond of it."

He truly is sleepy now, but that's okay, because he is solid and close and real and back, he is returned to your arms and your bed and your day to day life. It is so very welcome to come back to the mundane, to worry about getting the temperature right and sleeping positions and other ultimately unimportant things. For the first time in awhile, you are sated, you have scratched that itch that you couldn't reach before, you can sleep easy.

#my fic #logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde/reader #clyde logan/reader #smut

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okayyeli · 6 years ago

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oh, baby! | jjk (05)

pairing: reader x jjk genre: fluff, angst, humour, ceo au summary: a social media interactive au where a hypothetical situation sets you on a highly illegal quest to help out a friend. parts: one ★ two ★ three ★ four ★ five ★ six ★

jungkook is running late.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he runs his free hand through his hair, tugging in frustration. The meeting had run longer than expected and he’d completely forgotten to confirm a couple of things with his secretary, so he found himself being dragged into a whirlpool of confirmations and emails, until finally, he’d managed to break free.

And now he’s almost twenty minutes late.

He mutters a few curses under his breath, foot coming down harshly on the pedal as his Tesla jerks forward, his little arrow on the GPS getting closer and closer to his destination, the Ruby Grill.

He’d been there hundreds of times, he loved that it was far away from the office and gave him some space to breathe and get work off of his mind, but today he’d been so frazzled he needed his GPS to make sure he didn’t lose his way and end up even later than he already was.

As he pulls into the parking space he’d reserved for himself, he works on adjusting his appearance, softening his hair down as he says, “Siri, text Miss Miller ‘I’m here’.”

“Send ‘I’m here’ to Miss Miller?” The assistant parrots back, to which he says, “Send.” He then loosens his tie, taking it off and unbuttoning his first three buttons, sighing in relief as he leans against his seat, dialing Jimin, who answers on the first ring.

“Dude, what the actual fuck are you playing at? She’s been waiting for thirty minutes now!”

“Technically it’s twenty five and counting.” He answers weakly, groaning as Jimin makes a sound of disapproval. “Just get your ass in here Jeon, before she passes out from anxiety.”

“She’s anxious?” Jungkook disconnects his bluetooth and lifts his phone to his ear as he exits his car, locking it behind him as he makes his way towards the restaurant. Jimin sounds mildly concerned when he says, “Yeah, man, she’s been fidgeting non-stop. I think she’s taken like, four bathroom breaks now? She’s just downing a lot of water and glancing around. Three members of staff have shot her sympathetic looks too, by the way.”

“Jesus, you don’t need to make me feel like utter shit, I get it.” The younger winces at the thought of you sitting alone, waiting in a restaurant he was sure is unfamiliar to you, giving the impression that you’d been stood up to members of staff.

What a great first impression to make, he thinks dryly, I’ll be lucky if she’s still willing to talk.

“Right, I see you, so I’m going to hang up and watch how this plays out. Good luck, my guy, if she ruins that pristine white shirt of yours you kind of deserve it and you shouldn’t sue. Okay, bye!”

Before the younger can formulate a response, the older hangs up, leaving him to huff in annoyance. As he enters, he signs himself beside your name, tilting his head slightly.

Now that he looks at it, it sounds really familiar.

Really, really familiar.

He frowns, staring at your name for a couple of seconds. Where does he know you from? A reporter who’d tried to sell a false story? No, that didn’t seem like it. An ex-girlfriend? Wasn’t it either, he’d have remembered you. Maybe the party?

Ugh.

“Sir, she’s sitting near the window over there.” The receptionist pulls him from his train of thought, gesturing towards where you were sat, chin resting atop your palm as you scrolled through something on your phone.

Not too far away, but within good distance, sat Jimin, engrossed in his meal. His best friend had dressed rather casual, in a black shirt tucked into ripped jeans, none of his usual rings present but a simple watch adorning his wrist.

Jungkook feels grossly overdressed in his office attire, but he shrugs it off, knowing he has no choice. He thanks the receptionist and makes his way over to where you were sat, simultaneously gaining Jimin’s attention in the process. The older man raises both his thumbs up at him, mouthing, don’t sue! which earns him an eye roll.

As you look up, Jungkook says, “Miss Miller?”

Your eyes widen, startled as you get to your feet to greet him, stepping out from your seat to give him a polite hug. He doesn’t get to hold you long, for you pull away rather quickly, but you smell really good. Some kind of mild perfume, but he likes it.

“Mr. Jeon,” you smile, and he swears he’s seen you somewhere before, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

He gives you a sheepish smile in response, the two of you taking a seat opposite each other as he gives you a sincere apology. “I’m really, really sorry I’m late, it wasn’t my intention to keep you waiting. I had a meeting run over, and my forgetfulness caught up to me. I hope I haven't made a terrible first impression.”

You seem to mull it over for a second. “It’s alright, I understand how work can get sometimes. The important thing is that you’re here, because I swear, if you’d taken another five minutes, the waitresses were going to pour me a drink.” You laugh and add, “And I’ve made it clear I can’t be drinking.”

“Hm, why not? It’s Friday after all.” As you respond, telling him it’s important that you stay away from alcohol, he takes in your appearance, relief easing the tension in his shoulders as he realizes you’ve also come straight from work. Your hair is slicked back into a tight ponytail, simple studs and no hoops, the pop of colour being your lipstick—a shade of red touching maroon. He figures it was the most you could do to aid the rest of your attire—a silk, beige blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt.

“So, shall we order?” He meets your eyes again, fighting back a frown as he says, “Sure, let’s do it.” It’s bothering him, he can’t figure out why you look and sound so familiar. If you were someone important to him, he’d surely have some recollection of you. But all he has is a nagging sixth sense with an overwhelming sense of familiarity, he knows you. He just can’t figure out from where or how.

You have no idea why Jungkook keeps staring.

As you read the items on the menu, trying to stop your blood pressure from rising at the prices, you fight the urge to shift under his gaze. You’re certain he won't remember you, it’s been eight years. You’d only been his friend for two years before his parents whisked him off to some top class school in British Columbia.

There’s no way he can still remember you. He had no recollection of you, you were sure of it.

Because if he did, you wouldn’t be here. You’d have no idea that he remembered nothing that night at the party, you wouldn’t even know he still kept his private Twitter account—the one he’d opened when he was twelve.

And damn—he’s grown into his body.

He still has the innocent doe eyes, but they’re a bit sharper around the corners now. He used to be shorter than you, a scrawny kid with a boisterous laugh and an adorable smile.

There’s aspects of him there, the smile and the eyes, but for most of it, the Jungkook you knew has grown well. He’s not even close to being scrawny or short, if the way the shirt clung to his body was any indication. His posture is more confident now, a stance of power and presence, perfectly akin to one of a leader.

To one of an heir.

“You're staring, Miss Miller,” he gives you a teasing smile, “is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just nice to see how much you’ve grown.”

You instantly regret the words the second they leave your mouth. His eyebrows furrow as he says, “I’m sorry, come again?” As you sputter to respond, he leans forward, frown evident. “Wait, so I am right, we have met before!”

Shit.

SHIT!

“Uh,” you chuckle nervously, trying to decide if it was a good idea to tell him who you were or lie. “I really wasn’t that important—trust me, it was a long time ago too—”

“Miss Miller, please tell me before the curiosity eats at me. How do we know each other?” His gaze is pleading, and you gulp, finding yourself unable to resist. You didn’t know if revealing your past friendship would affect your plan in anyway, but hey, the pro was, he’d be a little more comfortable around you.

Especially since you were going to drop a huge bomb on him later anyway.

“Um, well,” you pick your words carefully, “we knew each other in middle school. You might not remember, but we were twelve. You moved away when you were fourteen—”

You’re interrupted by him gasping your name, eyes wide. He says it again. And again, and then one more time, a little loudly. And then he lets out a surprised laugh, hand finding yours on the table as he says, “Oh my fucking god.”

“Yeah,” you answer slowly, hating that you don’t pull your hand away from his hold, “yeah it’s me.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, still staring at you like he’d struck gold. “How long has it been, ten years? No, eight years! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!” A mischievous grin tugs at his lips as he says, “Ah, how could I have forgotten my life mate?”

Still holding his hand, you lower your head with a groan. “No, stop, don’t bring that cringey shit up again.” He laughs gleefully, eyes bright with mirth. “I still genuinely can’t believe it’s you. You’re talking about me having grown? Look at you! Hey, I’m taller now!”

“By an inch or two, you jerk!” You retort, fighting a smile as you glare at him. “I’m still older, you’re being so disrespectful.”

Jungkook shakes his head at that, letting go of your hand as he does so. “You’re older by four months. Big deal. We’re still the same age, so it doesn’t count. Gah, no wonder your name sounded so familiar.”

“Are you that happy to see me?” You tease, lifting your glass of water to your lips.

“Well, of course, you were one of my closest friends. You were sincere and made sure I didn’t retreat into my shell for the two years Jimin and I were separated. When I moved and we lost contact, I was sure I’d never see you or hear from you again. I’m so, so glad I was wrong.”

Your smile widens involuntarily, an old feeling of fondness rising as you take in Jungkook’s happy grin. The two of you had been inseparable. It was comforting to know he still regarded you with happiness.

It hits you then, what you were about to do.

To your childhood friend.

It’s hard to keep your expression stable then, but you manage as Jungkook orders your food, keeping you engaged in conversation while you wait for it to arrive. He asks you about your job, where you went for uni and how you’re doing now. You tell him you took your love of science to a bachelor of science degree in psychology, and because you ran out of funds before you could start your masters, you graduated and became a media psychologist, working as an advertisement consultant for big companies.

He smiles and nods at the right parts, looking extremely proud as you explain. When you finish, he says, “You always had a talent with people. I’m glad it took you places.”

“Thank you,” you respond, flattered. “Enough about me, how’ve you been? How was British Columbia?”

He shudders. “Dreadfully cold.”

You laugh as he dives into it, your food arriving as he begins. You eat and learn about Jungkook’s life: after he graduated high school, he took a bachelor of business administration degree and although he was initially hesitant, he found himself enjoying it. He tells you it can get a little too technical and boring sometimes, but he never tired of pitching projects and diving into financial risks. He had the choice of pursuing his masters, but decided to intern at his own company instead, finding himself more eager to get a hands-on experience.

He worked his way up from the bottom, and now he’s where he is, set to inherit the company—no, the empire his father had built—very soon.

“There was a lot of blood, sweat and tears along the way, but I’m happy I’m here now. Though I suppose my brother’s taken a lot more, he’s graduating from law school in a year. And he couldn’t be more ready, poor guy.”

“Yeah, well, from the minimal interactions I’ve had with your brother, I’m certain he’ll make a fantastic lawyer.” Jungkook hums in agreement, smiling. “I’m aware. I’m just glad we don’t have a bad relationship and aren’t fighting to inherit the company.”

“Your brother made it very clear when he was eighteen that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the company and wanted to venture out on his own.”

“Hm, fair.”

Once you’re done eating and your plates have been taken away, Jungkook seems to finally remember what he’s here for. “So, this isn’t exactly our first reunion, seeing as we met at the party. Can you tell me what happened?”

You stiffen. “I’m—I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Hey,” Jungkook gently takes your hand in his own once again, “you were my best friend through my emo phase. You can tell me anything.” You laugh at that, finding yourself involuntarily relaxing when he started rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles.

“Well, I only got into the party because Johnny invited me.” He nods, saying, “I don’t really talk to him, but I get it, he’s pretty easy to befriend.”

“Easier when drunk too,” you add with a nervous chuckle, “anyway, I was trying to get into this club and the bouncer was trying to charge me twenty dollars even though it’s ladies free before eleven—and I was there at ten fifty-two, thank you very much. It’s starting to get heated and I’m holding up this long line of people when Johnny passes by and he said something about a friend of his hosting a party nearby.”

“Jaehyun.” Jungkook answers quickly. “It was Jaehyun. His parties are wild.”

“Yeah I know,” you’re careful not to add any detail, “it was kind of intimidating, so I decided to get some drinks, because although Johnny promised he’d stick by me and introduce me to everyone, he pretty much bolted the second we entered.”

The taller man looks amused, but says nothing.

“Okay, so halfway through my process of getting tipsy, I ran into you. I’m not sure how much you had to drink, but you seemed pretty out of it as well. I think you tried to pull the whole ‘did you fall from heaven’ line too.” You pause, frowning for dramatic effect. “Didn’t work really well.”

“Listen, I’m a lot smoother when I’m not in drowning in Absolut.”

You force a grin, nodding your head disbelievingly. “I’m sure. Anyway, for whatever reason, you challenged me to a drinking game. If I won, you’d get me McDonald’s. If you won, you got my name.”

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitch up into a smile that you know he’s trying to fight. He doesn't say anything, allowing you to continue. You hate that he’s so engaged and that the only reason he was engaged and buying all of this bullshit so far is because you’d spent hours going through his Twitter to find out his friends and gauge what his typical party behaviour was.

“It’s a bit of a blur after that, considering how much alcohol we’d both consumed. I think it was a tie, ‘cause we called a truce and—” You pause abruptly, feeling the tips of your ears going red. Even if it never happened, you still felt embarrassed.

Jungkook’s smile has faded, he’s now starting to look flustered. There’s a dust of pink on his cheeks as he says, “Oh w-we—we had—”

“—yeah,” you answer, coughing awkwardly, “yeah we did.”

He’s fighting hard to get rid of the blush, but it isn’t working. His shoulders have dropped slightly as he runs a hand through his hair, laughter spilling out of his mouth as he says, “Well, that’s one hell of a reunion, hm?”

You cough again, trying your best to force out a laugh. God, this is painfully awkward. “Yeah.”

“Is that all you know then?”

Oh, boy, here we go.

You can do this.

Just spit it out!

Rip off the bandaid.

Weakly, you say, “No. T-there’s more.”

His grip on your hand tightens slightly, seeming to sense the shift in mood. “It’s still me,” he’s giving you a tense smile, “you can tell me.”

“I skipped that month,” you start slowly, voice barely audible over the clang of cutlery and dim chatter, “and at first, I dismissed it as stress, because it isn’t uncommon for me to skip. But I-I had this nagging feeling a-and I, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to confirm and—”

His hold on your hand falls loose. His index finger trembles first, and you realize it’s your turn to comfort him. You place your palm atop his hand as you say, “It came out positive, Kook.”

His breath falters.

“I’m pregnant.”

#HSLAHS I WAS SO TENSE WRITING THIS I #I'M TOO INVESTED INTO THIS #anyway #ahem #pls lemme know how it was?#bts #bangtan #beyond the scene #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook text au #bts text au #bts ceo au

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