#leading to a tattooed ring around his finger. insane.
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I usually hate the phrase "the ol' ball and chains" but being used in this context got me with a strong enough death grip that I tried to figure out 3 point perspective
Sorry to laugh at my own joke but imagining bingge referring to all of his 100+ wives as "the ol' balls and chains" is making me hysterical
#lots of chains one ball (where the ball is expectations or toxic masculinity or something idk)#I once saw a customer with a tattoo of a ball and chain on the back of his hand#leading to a tattooed ring around his finger. insane.#anyway xin mo is the only thing close to him bc despite constantly searching for love and genuine care#he can only keep forging more of the same bond of power and lust which is why none of his wives are present#unable to climb up the pedestal he has trapped himself on in the search for love and safety#and in turn has been stuck only with admiration fear lust and power that can't fill the same void#hi sorry to hijack your joke post im mentally ill about him and everything pidw represents and svsss subverts#my art#svsss#luo bingge
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Stay
Author's Note: My period started, I had some feelings, wrote some established relationship fluff/smut; enjoy!
Content Warnings: Rhys uses his daemati powers for a quickie (because he absolutely WOULD and you cannot change my mind on that)
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It was a mistake to go back to work this soon. My whole body aches, the newly accepted mating bond pulling on my bones like it’s a living thing crawling around beneath my skin. I can’t escape the searing heat of it, not even with the office windows thrown open, the dark lace curtains billowing in the soft autumn breeze. I should be cold enough to wear the sweater I’d stolen off the armchair this morning, but it sits draped over my desk chair instead.
Rhys had been called back to the Hewn City two weeks before we were scheduled to return from our retreat. Or as he was so affectionately calling it “The Mating Bond Sex Romp of the Century”. We were supposed to have a whole month to ease into newly mated bliss; the extra time was supposed to help with the chafing and general irritation that would come when we inevitably had to separate and return to civilization. And of course Keir had gone and fucked that up for us. We’d flown in last night, and Rhys was gone before dawn this morning. The empty Townhouse was going to drive me insane and training with Cass and Az would have driven Rhys insane, so my only solution was to come into work and handle two weeks worth of paperwork. There’s certainly enough to keep me occupied for the day, except I can’t think straight! The words in front of me blur, the meaning of them nonsensical. I shouldn’t be here! I should be tangled up with my mate; the only thought in my head should be how much deeper I can take him.
I lean back in my chair, palms pressing into my eyes with a groan of frustration. Stupid fucking Kier! The only sounds I should be hearing right now are my mate’s as I run my lips over his chest, tracing tattoo and muscle and that dark little patch of hair that leads me down…
“Well isn’t this a pretty little thought to walk into.” Even his mental voice is enough to make the bond shiver in delight and I throw down my shields with abandon to let him in further.
“Come here and I’ll make it more than a thought,” I return. We are beyond pretense and formality now. I want-need-him. My body feels like it might burst into flame if his hands are not roving every inch of my skin. I knew the bond would be intense, but not to this degree. I could live or die with just his touch alone.
Night chilled shadows swirl around our shared mental ground like a cat brushing up against its owner. The gesture alone makes me slump down into the seat and sigh. “All worked up, aren’t we?” He purrs, but his voice is strained.
“I’ll rip Keir’s throat out for this. We were supposed to have more time.” I snarl.
The longer my shields are down, the better my mental view of him becomes, until it looks as if the two of us are standing on an adamant bridge, surrounded by endless starlight. Like this he has free reign to all of me, mind and soul; a brush of his fingers and he can walk into any memory he wants, a flick of his wrist and he can take complete control of my body and I’d be powerless to stop him. We are equals and he makes sure I never forget it, but like this, when there is no damper on his power, when he doesn’t have to hide behind a courtly mask, all his power untampered and wild--there are few things I love more. I love him like this. I love being able to surrender to the power of him, yield my own and let him take control so that I do not have to think beyond the pleasure he’s capable of ringing out of my body.
He reaches out and brushes his fingers over my cheek and I could scream under the heat that flares through my physical body. It’s not quite the touch I want, but it’s enough to make my blood sing.
“I know, love, and I’m sorry.”
I turn my head and press my lips into his palm, catching his wrist so I can keep him right where I need him. “Please,” I whisper, because even here in this space I can’t shake the desperation that claws its way up my throat. “Just for a few minutes. I need you.”
A growl sounds in the back of his throat as he leans in and crashes his lips against mine. It’s a flurry of tongue and teeth, his free hand threading into my hair and I drop his wrist in favor of tossing an arm around his neck. There are too many clothes between us, even here, and I claw unabashedly at his shirt until he gets the hint and magics it away.
There is no feeling like the warmth of his skin against mine. Only when we’re chest to chest, my own top disappearing, does the fire in my veins finally turn from painful to pleasurable. I am warm everywhere he touches, no longer consumed by this insistent ache. I sigh contentedly as I nip at his lower lip.
“Better?” He asks as he slides an arm beneath my ass and lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. My back hits the handrails of our shared mental bridge, the cold stone biting into my flushed skin.
“A little,” I say as I press soft kisses along his mouth and chin.
He rocks his hips against my still clothed center, the friction so heady it makes me toss my head back and moan, giving him the perfect access to nip and suck at my throat. “I only have a couple minutes, we’ll have to make this quick.”
I don’t want quick. I want that slow rhythm we’d found that first night in the cabin, his hips slowly rocking into mine, his cock dragging through my dripping folds, my nails clawing at his shoulders as he drew moan after moan out of me, until I had begged him to finish inside me. I want the lazy roll of his hips as he holds me against the mattress, taking his time, teasingly nipping at my throat as he tells me how pretty I look around his cock, as he drags out every stroke and thrust until there is not a single thought in my head but him. But the burning beneath my skin is returning, and I can feel the pull of his duties in the back of his mind as if it’s calling to me instead. This is all the time we have right now, I will have to take it.
The rest of our clothes disappear in a rush and he slides right into me, all the way down to the hilt and I let myself scream into the endless darkness of our bond.
He presses his nose into my neck, where it meets my shoulder as he lets me adjust. Not that I truly need to here, but the gentleness of the motion, how concerned he always is for my well being, makes me want him even more. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.”
I pull him in for another searing kiss, my hands tangling in the silky strands of his hair. “Make it up to me a couple times?”
He slides almost completely out of me before thrusting back in, stealing the air from my lungs in a rush. “As many as you’d like, Darling.”
With the way I feel right now, I don’t think any amount will truly satiate me. I think I may just need him like this for the rest of my immortal existence.
Pleasure licks up my spine as he speeds up his movements, the stones at my back biting into my skin, keeping me grounded for a few seconds longer. His hands squeeze at my ass, kneading my tender flesh as the motion spreads me open a little more for him.
“Fuck,” he hisses into my neck. The stars overhead spin and swirl like a glittering storm, darkness leaking off his shoulders as his wings threaten to appear. I rock my hips into his, matching his pace with a swirling motion I know drives him crazy. “Maybe I really should just kill Kier.”
The sound that comes out of me as he hits a spot inside me that makes the bridge shake as my mental grip on the psychic plain slips is more moan than laugh.
“Then I could fly right home and take you like this against every surface in the house.”
I clench so tight around him at the thought that he growls and sinks his teeth into my shoulder in retaliation and I let my head fall back further to grant him more access to me. I want his mark everywhere, to the point no collar of the sweaters I’ve stolen from him can hide them.
“If you’re asking my permission,” I bite out through a gasp as his fingers slide between my legs, teasing at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to that glorious edge. “You have it.”
His thrusts grow sloppy as his speed increases, his own release barreling towards him as I slide a hand out of his hair and down between the valley of his shoulders. I’ll leave my own marks tonight, so everyone knows he is as much mine as I am his. If his wings were to make an appearance, then this would be where I would trace the thin membrane until I find that spot that drives him crazy. But he’d never bring them out for a quickie, they are too sacred for that. I will settle for his shoulders for now.
My chest brushes his as I gasp for breath, so close to the edge I can feel it in every nerve ending in my body. The bond between us glows warm and bright, filling up every bit of me as he hits that sweet little spot inside me. My eyes screw shut, thigh muscles tightening around his hips as he hits it again and again and again.
“Love you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Love you so much.”
One last thrust and I’m gone, his own release chasing mine as I whimper out his name.
From somewhere outside of us I hear a male voice call his name, demanding to know if he’s listening.
Rhys grumbles nonsensically into my neck as he holds me for a moment, my body trembling as it comes down from its high. This is the first time all day I feel like I can breathe and I cling to his shoulders for a moment, begging for more time.
“Better, love?”
I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “If I say no, will you stay?”
From somewhere outside of me I hear a knock, probably the company’s billing department wanting those expense reports I was attempting to work on earlier. Seems the real world needs things from both of us, regardless of our wishes.
My heart sinks in my chest as I slowly unwind my legs from my mate’s waist and touch solid ground. He is High Lord and despite his protests, I hadn’t been ready to let go of my job, even with a title of my own to deal with, this was territory we would have to deal with eventually, even if we’d had the month we were supposed to.
I stretch up on my toes to kiss him again, gently this time, but there is no less fervor in his response than before. Perhaps that pulling beneath my skin was not just my own need, but his, calling to me from across Velaris.
“I love you,” I say as that knock rattles the bridge, our mental grip slipping as reality beckons, louder and louder. “I can grab dinner on my way home.”
He steals another kiss like it’s his last meal. “As long as I still get you for dessert.”
And then he’s gone, nothing more than a star flecked shadow curled in the corner of my mind as reality comes crashing back in for both of us.
I try not to fidget at the uncomfortable wetness between my legs as I straighten the papers on my desk and tell the incessant knocker to come in. I won’t be doing anyone any favors if I start dishing out the same judgment my mate is on Kier here in the office.
“You got those papers for me?”
I leaf through the stack on the desk, using a bit of magic to hide the glaring scent of my arousal. I just have to make it a couple more hours. Then, Rhys is all mine, and I’ll have to find some creative ways to keep him in our bed until the bond finally settles.
If it ever settles.
#rhys x reader smut#Rhys x reader fluff#rhysand x reader smut#rhysand x reader fluff#Rhys x reader#rhys x you#acotar smut#acotar fics#Rhys fics#my writing#my fanfic
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° JEONGIN + HIS PRETTY HANDS . ⊹
jeongin isn’t aware of how pretty his hands are until you point it out to him. He doesn’t realize how particularly insane they make you until you’re reaching for them during intimate moments, maybe stuffing them in your mouth, or intertwining your fingers in his. It shocks him at first, he’s shy. But slowly he gains the courage to do exactly what you want him to— he wraps them around your throat… or your wrists and pins them above your head… or he’ll stuff them in between your lips, muttering that you need to put your mouth to use and to suck. This sends you over the edge almost immediately every single time.
now he understands your obsession with his hands because he too now has an obsession. Not with his hands but with what they can do to you; how they touch you and make you react. How you moan his name when he wraps his thin fingers around your throat, squeezing as the cold singe of his rings make you squeal. The little gag you do when his fingertips jab the back of your throat. He almost laughs now when he sees how your eyes water.
His personal favorite way to use his hands on you is to slap you around a little; the slight pink imprint of his hand on your skin anywhere makes him grin ear to ear; especially seeing it the next morning. They don’t last for long, he never slaps hard enough to last. But he likes the implication. The way it lingers on your skin just long enough for him to see and admire. The outline of his fingers and palm along your skin. It’s like a temporary tattoo. He’ll trace over and over them again and again while you lay beside him, getting you both horny as you watch his fingers. Leading to yet another round of you fawning over his fingers, having him put them wherever he wants.
Of course, when he’s done touching you, when you’re shaking and red and your throat is sore from his fingers, he’ll kiss your face and run his fingers through your hair. Jeongin loves that you love his hands; he also loves what he can do for you with them. He’ll make sure to use them to his advantage as much as he can.
#౨ৎ. dee’s queued#౨ৎ. dee’s hard hours#feat. jeongin .ᐟ#skz smut#jeongin smut#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin#skz hard thoughts#jeongin hard thoughts#i.n imagine#i.n skz#i.n smut
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anywhere, anytime.
NSFW, 18+, smut content
There was something so hot about how crazy you two were for each other. You guys were constantly making excuses to disappear for a quick moment to work out your passions in the heat of the moment, sometimes not even finding the time to make excuses and would just disappear without a word. It didn’t matter where you were; parties, hanging out with friends, work when Eddie would come visit you, the mall, the movies. It truly never mattered the time or place, Eddie would find a secluded spot and would rock your world every time. He would whisper the sexiest things in your ear while he rammed his cock into you, he’d keep his hand over your mouth because it was so hard for you to keep quiet. One time, he even stuffed your own panties in your mouth to muffle the noises that you were unable to keep contained, that was when he was railing you from behind in an aisle of the library that no one really went to.
However, this afternoon was no different. Eddie let you tag along on his trip to Reefer Rick’s to pick up his next supply. Only Rick wasn’t home yet from picking up from his supplier, that was the conclusion Eddie made when his heavy knocks went unanswered. We walked around back and Rick’s van was gone so that concluded it. It was a sweltering July afternoon, the sweat was already beading on the back of your neck and you could see it dripping down Eddie’s face. He always looked so hot when he was all sweaty, it made you want to lick it off of him. That was the insanity of being so in love with and so hot for Eddie Munson. “Want to see a bit of Lover’s Lake?” He asked you with a coy smile.
He leads you over to the boat dock, his ring clad hand in yours. That was something you loved about Eddie, he always had to touch you in some way. Whether it was holding your hand, his hand on the small of your back, your shoulders or arms touching. He always wanted to feel you next to him, it often made you wonder why but you didn’t mind either way. Once you reached the end of the dock, Eddie peeled his sweaty band shirt off and tossed it onto the wooden boards below, you giggled. “Eddie, you can’t seriously be doing what I think you’re doing.”
The infamous Munson crooked grin upturned the corners of Eddie’s mouth, you felt your heart palpitate in your stomach causing you to swallow hard. Your mouth suddenly felt so dry in this godforsaken heat. “I don’t know about you, but I need to cool off. You can join me…or I can toss you in.” Eddie suddenly starts to pick you up, as you were kicking and screaming in protest, he finally puts you back down with a hearty chuckle.
“So not funny, Munson. You’ll pay for that.” Your sweaty eyebrows furrowed together.
Eddie practically giggled as he pinched your cheek gently. “So damn cute when you get all mad.”
His muscled torso was almost blinding white, his forearms a little tanned from sticking them out of his van window while he drove. The contrast made you giggle, but still you admired his toned body. Your fingers instinctively tracing over his tattoos, following the dip in his collarbone causing him to shiver a little. Clearing his throat, “C’mon, sweetheart. If you keep doing that, we won’t even make it in the water.” Another wicked grin, and you couldn’t help but return it to him.
“Maybe I want that.” You teased him, his eyebrow quirked up, disappearing into his curls that were sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“Is that so?” Eddie undoes his makeshift handcuff belt, letting it hang open, he pulls apart his jeans from the silver button, all with a single hand. The blue checkered boxers he wore and little tuffs of hair from his happy trail peeking over the top are exposed to you. His other hand, caresses your jaw and moves into the back of your hair where he grabs a handful. Pulling your head back and exposing your neck to him, he kisses the column of your throat, his tongue drags upwards in a tantalizingly slow pace before he murmurs. “Is that what you want, princess?”
A soft moan unwillingly escapes your lips that were now parted by his unexpected hair pull. Eddie always knew what to do to get you hot for him, not that it required much effort on his part. Your attraction to him alone would get you there. “What’s that, sweetheart? Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” He pulls your hair a little harder, causing a louder moan from you. Pushing your head forward to look at him again, he crashes his lips against yours feverishly. His hands fall to cup your ass in those short denim shorts you liked to wear to drive him crazy, he pulls you up into his arms. Carefully, he carries you into the boathouse, kicking the door shut behind him.
He pushes you up against the wall a little too hard, some boat oars crash down around you causing you to laugh as he kisses your neck. He groans as he nips at your tender skin, “God, angel, you drive me wild. Always making messes with me…”
You couldn’t stifle the giggle if you tried, he looks up at you. “Oh, am I funny to you?” Nodding your head with another giggle, he sets you down and turns you around so he can smack your ass. The pain makes you moan as he pulls your head back by your hair once more and whispers in your ear. “Such a naughty girl.”
Eddie sees a cloth tarp balled up on the floor near the window, mumbling to himself, “This will have to do…” He peels your clothes off of you, picking you back up as you squeal from excitement. He gingerly lays you on your back on the tarp, it’s not the best of places he’s fucked you, but there’s definitely been worse. Like the bathroom at The Hideout was far less cleaner than this. While looking down at you, his grin makes a reappearance. He kicks his shoes off and to the side, finally pulling his pants and boxers down and off. His cock springing forward at full attention for you. He steps out of his pants and kicks them off over by his sneakers.
Watching him spit in his palm and rub the entire length of his cock always made your pussy flutter. It was the hottest thing to see, he would bite his lip from the sensation of his grip. He left his rings on for you, knowing how much you loved feeling and seeing them. He leaned over you, his dark curls cascading around his face, his tongue poking out in total concentration as he aligned the tip of his dick with your wet entrance. He would rub it up and down your slit to tease you, moaning softly at how wet you already were for him. “Such a dirty girl, already so wet for me. You want my cock baby? You know what to say.”
Biting your lip, which drove Eddie crazy, you watched his eyes darken even with the light peering in the window above them. “Please, give me your cock baby. I want it, no, I need it.”
“Good girl,” he murmured as he stuffed his cock into your wet heat. The boat house suddenly filling with the sound of wet squishing from his steady thrusts into your soaked core, a symphony of grunts, moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls from the two of you, and the sound of your sweaty skin slapping together. Eddie’s ring-clad hand gripped the window sill, allowing him leverage to ram into you. He stared down at your beautiful body, watching the way your tits bounced from his hard thrusts, the way your perfect lips were parted as you moaned in pleasure. It was almost too much for Eddie, mumbling. “Shit, oh shit.” He could have blown his load right then at the grip you had on him. However, Eddie was masterful in controlling his breathing so that he could power through it, refusing to finish before you.
With his free hand, he put your leg up on his shoulder, allowing him to bury himself deeper into you. Each thrust pummeling against that spongey spot along your walls that made your eyes roll back. Occasionally, he would rotate his hips in a way that would cause your brain to fog in pleasure, causing you to go dumb. Your grip on him was tightening and he knew you were getting close, he grunted through it. “C’mon, baby. Cum for me. Soak this cock.” He wraps his arm around the leg on his shoulder, his thumb circling your swollen bud. This sends you over the edge, your walls convulsing around him as your orgasm ripped through you. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you cried out in pleasure, Eddie not even bothering to cover your mouth because he knew no one was out here. Doing as you were told, you soaked his cock and unfortunately the cloth tarp you two were on. “Fuuuuck, baby. That’s a good girl. Fuck!” He thrust a few more times before one final, hard push before his cock was pulsating inside of you. Filling you to the brim with his seed, he lay there silently. Panting heavily and whimpering softly as his cock finished twitching before he slowly pulled out.
You couldn’t find the words, you also were trying to catch your breath. But you knew you had a sex dazed grin on your face. Eddie caressed your cheek briefly, murmuring. “So pretty when you’re fucked out like this.” He chuckled before offering his hand to help you stand up. Your knees wobbly from the intensity of your orgasm, you couldn’t help but to giggle at yourself.
“God, Eds. You’re gonna kill me one day.” Your smile radiated as you looked at him, it filled his chest with such warmth.
He kissed your temple, his hand in the back of your hair as he murmured into it. “I love you, princess.”
“I love you too, handsome.” You whispered to him. Eddie reluctantly pulled away, gathering his and your clothes. He let you lean on him for support when you needed it before he got dressed himself. When you finally emerged from the boathouse, Eddie still shirtless because it was still laying on the dock. Reefer Rick stood at the top of the hill by his house.
“There you two lovebirds are. That was a real finisher, Junior.” A big grin was plastered on his face. Eddie’s face flushed a deep pink and you hid behind him, burying your face into his back. This wasn’t the first time you two had been caught, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
#eddie munson#stranger things#fanfic#joseph quinn#eddie munson pov#pov#eddie munson x reader#stranger things 4#fanfiction
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an infamous fic. 1.2k words.
Orion Quinn was not invited out often.
What was the word his coworkers used? “Unsociable.” Orion Quinn was unsociable. He hardly smiled, he never danced, and he almost always turned down any invitation to get to know his coworkers in a casual setting.
And yet, he was here, nursing an overpriced IPA in the crowded corner booth of a dive bar. Some band was setting up on the sorry excuse for a stage in a mad scramble, untangling wires and tripping over them anyway. That was the only reason he had been coaxed out: work. Benjamin swore by this band, a name Orion couldn’t even remember, but he had yet to say anything about the actual music. “The lead singer is insane,” he laughed into his drink.
Marty snorted. “Yeah, insanely hot.”
Orion spared the singer in question a glance. She was currently engaged in a battle with the mic stand, toned arms on display as she tried to adjust it to her short height, her platformed boots barely helping. In fact, almost all of her was on display. Black denim shorts that barely went below her crotch, a strappy black bralette that Orion couldn’t figure out how she had put on, black fishnets, lipstick, nails. All black. Even the tattooed bands around both her wrists. The only pop of color was the length of auburn hair that tumbled down her back. She stuck her tongue out when the guitarist laughed at her.
“She almost killed a guy the last time I was here. Just demolished his face.” Benjamin whistled. “Took two security guards to drag her off. You could see all of her rings on his face when they carried him out.”
Orion frowned, already bored with the subject. Usually, he would never attend a concert like this. Metal, hardcore, whatever they were supposed to be, was not his taste. The screams grated against his ears, and the rowdiness of the crowds did nothing to encourage his participation. But he was in desperate need of new talent. “Why did they invite her back?”
“You can’t deny the crowd they bring in.”
It was true. The small area around the stage was packed, everyone pushing to be in front. Even where he sat in the back people were finding a way to jostle his elbow, threatening the safety of his drink. Most of the patrons were dressed like the lead singer, though a few sported the same tee-shirt, obviously hand painted: two curved lines with a crude semi circle in between them. Orion was very aware of the crisp white shirt he wore, though the top two buttons were undone.
The bartender, at least, seemed happy, her tip jar already overflowing.
A hush fell over the crowd as the opening notes of a guitar started. It was light at first, complex, like thousands of petals softly falling to the ground.
And then all peace came crashing down.
Marty bobbed his head beside Orion as the song picked up, the combined spell of every instrument whipping the crowd into a frenzy. The singer remained silent, not attempting to hide her smugness as she watched the crowd, before eventually parting her lips.
Orion had to admit, she was good. A little rough around the edges, maybe, and he had more than a few notes for what every member could improve upon, but the skill was obviously there. Her voice danced from low to high, defying gravity as she threw herself about the stage. More than a few times she’d run her fingers down between her breasts, down her sides, coming to a stop just above the hem of her shorts before she’d turn and trail over her backside. Not subtle at all, but with the way the crowd surged to touch her legs, she didn’t need to be.
He watched for a song, then two, then turned back to his beer, wondering if it would be worth it to fight his way to the bar for another.
The concert continued, and Orion occasionally tapped his finger against the lip of his bottle, but he more often checked his watch. For a genre he disliked, he was grudgingly surprised that they had even held his attention at all, but his time could be better spent elsewhere.
And then she screamed.
Orion Quinn had listened to a lot of music. He knew technique when he heard it. And the singer certainly had it, the growls well projected. Her voice would be protected for a long time.
With his gaze on the table in front of him, Orion had missed the frenzied look that had crept into her eyes, the stage lights flaring her pupils to life. Her hair was wildfire behind her, catching everything alight as she violently whipped her head about. And when she started singing again, her voice was honey smooth, soothing any wounds that the scream had left when it sunk its claws into his mind.
The musicians picked up, their hands a blur as the tempo reached a maddening pace. Sweat rolled down the singer’s exposed skin. Her eyes were unfocused, unseeing, but her mouth continued to move and she continued to dance, no longer aware of the crowd in front of her. “Possessed” was the only word that could form in Orion’s thoughts. It was almost Bacchian, his pulse racing as the crowd moved with her, beholden to her every command.
The singer screamed again, and Orion’s heart shattered.
Her voice frayed, heartbreak evident in every note. There was no way to verbalize it but to scream, but to let the crowd feast on the carrion of her love. Technique was all but abandoned. The music was desperate now, begging for any release as it continued to soar. The singer collapsed to her knees, her high note reaching for a god that would not answer her.
And then it stopped. The music faded out, and the guitarist shakily reached for his water. The singer remained on her knees, her chest heaving as the mist slowly lifted from her eyes. And then she bent forward, her forehead touching the stage floor, a last prayer at the altar.
When she rose, she was as she had been at the very beginning, winking and throwing up her hands and soaking in the ear-splitting noise. “Give it up for Jazzy on the drums!” she yelled after gulping down water and dumping the rest of it over her head. “Rowan on the guitar! Devyn on bass! Iris on keyboard!” She pointed to each one in turn as she hopped around, giving them all a chance to put on their own displays.
She stepped to the edge of the stage, smirking as someone wrapped their arms around her boot. “And motherfucking Stoja on vocals! We’re Nocturna Inferno!” It was a miracle that he could hear over the roar of noise. “Someone buy us a fucking drink!”
“Not bad, right?” Benjamin coaxed, nudging Orion with his elbow.
Dumbly, he released his vice grip on his beer bottle. “They could be better,” he answered.
They could be. God, they could be. Benjamin rolled his eyes and mumbled something to Marty, but Orion’s focus was squarely on Stoja, who had hopped up on the bar, a gorgeous woman resting her elbows on her meaty thighs.
They had yet to meet, but he knew her, knew who she was behind that dazzling smile.
And if he had a say, the whole world would know her, too.
#i didn’t proofread this heehee#stoja wiseman#my writing#infamous if#don’t perceive anyone’s characterizations lol i don’t know what i’m doing#but yeah uh. i may not know anything about orions divorce or life or anything yet but hey. heartbreak is heartbreak and stoja knows it well#something something stoja is entirely a projection and her music is the only honest thing about her something something#nocturna inferno
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you’ve got more poison than sugar - part iii
part i part ii AO3
Fandom: Call Of Duty
Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell
Words: 6.572
Warnings: here’s where the smut tag comes into play, boy with a copious amount of power play and yeah, it’s messy af
Author’s note: after three months, a couple of brainstorming in the bathtub, delays, revisions and self-doubt, chapter 3 is finally done. i hope you'll enjoy it. also, i don't think i have to warn you what will go down in this chapter.
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Fast forward to twenty-four hours since he discovers that Bell is fucking someone, Lazar drops about half a dozen of dusty manilas on his desk. Adler’s eyes sweep over them. He recognizes Bell’s handwriting etched across the memo attached to one of the folders right away.
He picks it up. It’s becoming second nature to him lately; drawing himself to her, an ineradicable magnetic force pulling his end of the pole.
A muscle on his jaw twitches.
For a moment, Adler despises her. He allows himself to really despise her. She’s started something in his head- a war; an intangible, unmanageable riot and if he lets her, she’ll rearrange him until he’s insane.
And he can’t let that happen. He’s the one holding the leash here, not vice versa.
“This is what we have on Dragovich’s activities in Yamantau,” Lazar informs him, pulling him back down to earth.
Adler stands, keeping his face easy, neutral. “Is this everything?”
“So far, yeah. Bell says she’ll let us know if she digs up something more from the archives though.”
Bell- the Bell in question- can be heard sighing, like she turns the corner and finds herself at a cul-de-sac; hunching over her desk, reading, her fingers keep buttoning and unbuttoning the top of her shirt, madly distracting (him).
She remains in her seat, for pretty much the remainder of the day. Eyes glued to the pages before her, factory-like dedication. She hardly looks up when Sims borrows her pen or when Park stands over her, sipping her coffee, inquiring about her progress behind a plume of smoke.
The only- truly time Bell ever lifts her head from her work is when Mason approaches her desk. She gazes up at him, notes forgotten, a kittenish smile etched across her face, come-hither eyes that could have time hung in motion, or held at ransom, perhaps. Mason’s own smile is full-blown, too wide, too genial, as he stalks closer and closer to her table, her whirlpool.
Adler does a double-take, like his eyeballs only functioning for the first time. He might as well be hallucinating it because no... this can’t be right, can it?
But then Mason is touching her hand, a blink-and-you-miss-it movement that was not lost on Adler and oh, she’s looking at him hopefully now.
The knots in Adler's stomach are vertiginous. Realization rings in his head like a gunshot, nearly leaving him in a daze. There’s no denying it. Not when the exchange unfurls before his eyes like a broken, warped film reel and there’s nothing to stop him from seeing it.
The thought of her and him haunts the rest of his waking hours, until there’s absolutely no telling how far he’s fallen into his own pit.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ( Alex Mason fucked her that night.
Mason was in her bed; beside her, above her, under her. Inside her. He imagines her fingers digging into the mattress as Mason rolled her onto her stomach, mouth trailing down the ladder of her spine. Their breaths intermingled in the seraphic glow of her hotel room.
Alex Mason fucked her. It shouldn't leave an acrid taste in his mouth, but it does.)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ She haphazardly reaches for the mug and takes a hearty gulp of its content. It’s not hers.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bell says, mortified and places the mug down noisily on the desk. “I’m sorry, I thought it was mine.”
The rim of his mug is now stained with her lipstick. Adler bites down on a careful retort.
He thinks he knows now. Why he lets it happen, why he thinks of her in metaphors, why she gives him that vertigo. The answer is at the tip of his tongue- he can almost taste it, like spoiled milk or rancid gardenia. But it’s much easier to ignore it until the words grow diminuendo and disappear, that he thinks he imagined it all along.
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You can’t obsess without turning around and getting lost in the middle.
Or losing a part of yourself in the process.
The idea of obsession, to obsess, perhaps is a far riskier thing for a person to have than playing the knife game, blindfolded with absolutely no telling where to start.
Yet we all do it, despite knowing the very dark flipside it possesses.
Perhaps it’s the very nature of humans, tucked deep within the pigeonhole of our minds, suffused by the very promise of bogus achievements that usually leads most of us insane, thinking that obsession is essential to living. But without it, artists are corporate slaves, slack-jawed know-it-alls moving stiffly in the middle of the hullabaloo that is our world; Paris would be just as unrecognizable today without Napoleon’s artistic legacy.
Obsession is good.
Obsession is dangerous.
The very dichotomy should have us all warded off of it.
Yet, again, we all do it. Again, and again, and again until it taints our veins. And it’s always far too late until you realize, that yes, now all you see is her, the air has been poisoned by her perfume, that her name is now forevermore engraved in your skin, like an overgild tattoo.
That you end up in downtown Berlin, out of sight, out of mind.
He finds them there, in a shoebox-sized cafe. Ill-lit, low-ceiling, coffee-stained floor that shows the wear of three decades worth of boots, pantoffels and high heels and Adler is sitting in his car, nursing a beer with but one all-consuming, perplexing thought:
Bell and Mason.
Someone told him they arrived together, about an hour ago. The cafe has become their usual haunts, his source said, ever since they’ve returned from Ukraine and Adler just can’t wrap his head around this- them. In his head, they’re wholly different entities. Two proper nouns separated by a conjunction, or a comma if mentioned in a list.
They’re the kind of opposites that he thought don’t attract, yet here they are.
Perhaps it's inevitable, both are products of brainwashing. Maybe they sensed one another, speaking in code, like detecting an RF signal from a nuclear bunker.
Then the doors to the cafe swing open. They step outside, cheeks flushed, his arm wrapped around her waist, her lips glueing on the slope of his neck. Shaded eyes watch them from the opposite street, his disgust obvious.
Now, Adler wonders how this all began. Someone must have made the first move.
He wonders if it was her. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"You wanted to see me?"
Adler looks up from his desk and nods. "Lock the door behind you."
And Alex Mason, the root of all this trouble, obeys. Looking somewhat uncertain under the scrutiny of the harsh lights, and shuts the blinds. Unlike Woods, he takes a seat at the chair Adler sets up before the desk.
"What is it?" Mason asks, after a long, almost unending silence. His curiosity seeps through the room.
There is very little control when the first domino falls. Oftentimes, once it starts, it’s like crossing the Rubico n and the next thing you know, you are lying flat on the ground in some theater, 23 fresh stab wounds decorating your body and the beat of your pulse seems dim and distant, everything feels cold except your blood; warm, bright and thick like gasoline, crawling into every space until it goes into your throat and strangles you, kills you. Fini, kaput.
But then again, he's not Caesar and this isn't Rome.
Adler pushes the first tile.
"How long has this been going on?" he asks without fanfare, tight and composed as ever. Never mind the way his eyes ignite like cold blue fire behind his glasses.
"How long has what been going on?"
“You and Bell." And Mason blinks at him in surprise. Bingo. "I saw the two of you leaving for her hotel from a cafe in Downtown Berlin last night. So don't bother skirting your way around this.” Adler leans forward across his desk. He’s a man on a mission- there’s no stopping him now.
“Now, let me rephrase the question, how long have you been fucking her?"
"Hold on, hold on, you were stalking us?" Mason asks, waspish.
Adler winces inwardly. "I was keeping an eye out for my asset.”
“Asset?” Mason hisses, like Adler just blasphemed. “Jesus Christ, Russ, is that all she ever is to you? An asset? She’s your protégé, for god’s sake- a person! What is wrong with you?"
"Plenty. Or apparently, so I've been told.”
"I don't find you amusing.”
“I'm hardly ever,” Adler parries. Mason remains silent, yet the tilt of his lips translate exactly what words can't. "And you haven't answered my question."
“Bullshit. I don’t owe you anything."
"Listen, Al-"
"No, you listen to me. You may be calling the shots around here, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. Whatever- or whoever - we're doing in our spare time is none of your business, do you understand? So you can just drop it," Mason seethes, bitter, and, much to Adler’s surprise, rises to leave. “We’re done here.”
"That's where you're wrong."
Mason has only managed to put a few paces between them before he turns around, once again stepping inside this metaphorical boxing ring.
"What?"
"This has everything to do with me," Adler says coolly. "You said it yourself, I'm the one who calls the shots here. Meaning, anything that could potentially fuck up my operation is my concern and I have the right to intervene should it needed. This, being a case in point."
Mason looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “What the hell does fucking her have to do with this whole operation?”
“Everything.” He says it like quiet resignation. It’s time to acknowledge the truth, he thinks, to that unusual idea that has been swirling in the deep recesses of his mind, that everyone’s weakness is varied.
Achilles had his heel, and Adler has her.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to, Al. You don't even know her."
Mason gives him a level stare. "And you do?"
Adler is so hard-pressed to say 'I made her' but even he wouldn't stoop that low.
"That is beside the point,” Adler tells him instead as he turns to his vice- one of them, at least- and lights it.
“There is literally no point to this conversation.”
“The point is, stay the hell away from Bell. I'm saying this for your own good."
"My own good or yours?"
Adler does not flinch, but his hand does ball into a fist under the table, how the fingers curl and then flex.
"Don't be ridiculous. I gain nothing from this except assurance." It's a lie, it's the truth. There's no in between. He doesn’t know which is which anymore. "You, on the other hand, I'm sure the old ball and chain wouldn't be near as thrilled about hearing this if word ever gets out."
Mason is quiet for a beat.
"Is that a threat?"
"Only once I pulled the pin," Adler replies, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.
But the thing with Mason, he'll come to realize later, is how much, like with Bell, weaving through his mind is like trying to grasp for purchase in the dark as he, once again, does the unpredicted and smile- a venomous grin warps his face, like he’s mocking him, challenging him to move his piece on the board and make this mistake.
Adler stares back, surprised despite himself.
He shocks him further by saying, "Go ahead, then. Pull the pin, throw the grenade, tell her. See if she cares."
Adler’s eyes narrow at his askance. He then drags his attention to Mason’s left hand, and something grave and familiar rises in his chest.
The absence of the metal band around his ring finger tells him why.
“You know where to reach her. If anything, I’m sure she’d trust your words better than anyone else’s. So please, do it.” And Mason’s so goddamn sanctimonious about it. He’s clearly expecting this particular reaction out of Adler. It only leaves Adler angrier.
Another long pause stretches, heavy and unkind.
"Fine. Maybe she won't mind, but I'm sure the Agency wouldn’t be as tolerant.” Adler takes one last drag of his cigarette. He has that ‘Having nothing, nothing can he lose’ look on his face that makes Mason frowns. “Not when you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy.”
"What?”
"Bell. She’s not who you think she is, Al. Tell me, who do you think is the sorry bastard we saved in Trabzon?”
Mason blinks. His face is blank with shock, then he shakes his head. And he keeps shaking it, almost manic. If he laughs, which one would come first, he wonders, the gun or his fist pummeling the side of his face?
“You’re lying.”
“And why would I lie to you about this?”
"No, no, no, Woods- he told me the guy’s dead,” Mason says, his words are shaky.
“He’s not. And he wasn’t a he."
A crease forms between Mason's eyebrows, the starting of another frown.
“Hold on, if she’s helping us get Perseus then why is she the enemy?”
"Because she doesn't know that."
"Doesn't know what?"
"That she's the enemy."
Mason holds his gaze for a moment, his expression tense, like a slingshot.
And that cold elastic band finally snaps.
“What did you do to her?” He’s openly glaring at him now, mouth tight, an icy fury that is no longer dormant and for the first time since Adler has known him, he finds the man dangerous.
Adler takes a steadying breath. “We did what had to be done.”
"You sick son of a bitch. You brainwa- You-” Mason clamps his mouth shut, trembling hands finding his head. “Shit. How could you?"
Adler ignores his colorful outburst.
“She resisted every form of interrogations we threw at her, Al. We had no choice but to implement MK-Ultra as a last resort. We needed what’s in her head.” Mason is silent in reply. Adler continues, “Look, it’s nasty business, I know, but some of us have to cross a line just to make sure that line's still there in the morning. And as much as I hate agreeing with Hudson, he’s right. We need to preserve our way of life.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to play God,” his voice is resentful and crisp. “Do you have any idea what you are doing? You could jeopardize everything, and for what? You’ve seen what this- this experiment did to me, this won’t end the way you think!”
“Lightning never strikes the same place twice.”
"You’re really willing to gamble on that?”
Adler scowls. “I don’t gamble, Mason. I calculate. And if by some chance I was given a second chance, I’d do it all over again. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Mason doesn’t say anything at first, his loaded gun stare never falters. Then, “The flag may be different, but the methods are the same.”
"What was that?”
“Someone warned me, a long time ago, about how people like you will use people like me or Bell as pawns in your own game. You’d do whatever it takes to get what you want- and my, how you get results, don’t you? But you’re actually no different than the rest of the assholes you're fighting against,” Mason tells him, like he’s spitting out acid in Adler’s face.
“Bell may be the enemy- heck, she could be the architect behind all the chaos Perseus has done, but what you’re doing to her is vile and unethical. There are many ways to make her spill the beans, yet you chose the most immoral method there is out there. I sincerely hope you rot in hell for this."
Before Adler could formulate a response to his tirade, Mason stands to his feet.
“You want me to stay away from her? Fine. Consider this as my formal resignation. After Yamatau, I’m done. I’m out of the team. And if you know what’s good for you, you stay the fuck away from me because I don't ever want to see your face again, do you hear me?” he snarls. “If you think Woods is dangerous, Adler, just remember I nearly could have killed my own president."
Then Mason turns on his heel and walks out of the room, once and for all. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The fist is very much expected, and so does the pain that follows.
"You're out of your fucking depth, shithead," Woods spits, venom lacing his words.
Adler doesn't even bother to retaliate.
He doesn’t see the point. He didn’t think it would get this far. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The garage grows quiet and stodgy with now Mason and Woods are out of the picture. Everyone settles back into their own normal rhythm, the same routine before both men set their feet here almost a week ago.
Hudson doesn’t take the news of their departure kindly, naturally. He stands in Adler’s office, pacing, fuming. Adler ignores him, trying to nurse the skull-splitting migraine he's having at his desk instead. The nasty black eye hidden underneath his glasses. A secret locked, the key thrown away.
His headache, thankfully, has subsided when Sims takes a seat on the other side of the desk, hours later after Hudson left.
"I'm not trying to cause an alarm here, but you'd better watch your back."
Adler's brows furrow but doesn’t look up from the papers before him. "And why's that?"
"'Cause I think you just pissed off the wrong beast," Sims tells him. Adler pauses, then lifts his head to look at his cohort. There's genuine worry flashing over his face.
“Are you talking about Bell?”
“Who else?”
If she's a beast, then what am I? What he wants to ask, but there's a knock at the door and he swallows the words down his throat.
"Come in," Adler says, pretending to be reading again.
The door opens and Bell, fucking Bell, enters his office. It's like watching a tiger pass by your hiding spot in near dark. Neither he nor Sims breathes a word.
Bell's gaze immediately swings to him, like a cosmic pull. She's watching him as she wanders over to the desk and the weight of her stare burns him like Greek fire.
He pushes the documents close, all the while returning her stare. He is never the one who backs out of a challenge, and at this point, he knows that she probably knows that. Maybe that’s why she initiated it in the first place.
"Bell, what is it?" Adler asks firmly, in possession of his full power in this place.
Bell produces three diskettes from her pocket. Something odd definitely shining in her eyes.
"These have been lying on Lazar's desk for hours, but he's busy, so I thought I'd deliver them to you myself," Bell says. And he's trying to work out on her angle but she is unreadable. As always.
Adler nods, frustrated and indignant. "You can leave them here. Thank you."
It is only once the woman leaves that the two agents share a dark, significant look. That was too close.
And it goes without saying, something needs to be done about this. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
March 7th. A's insistence on raising the dosage is illogical. Recent behavioural analysis indicates depression. Will monitor for the next few days. Considering lowering the dosage instead. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The elevator reeks of smoke, cheap Soviet air freshener and something far more poisonous than the devil’s spider, silky hands.
It embodies the woman standing next to him right now- this special animal, emotionless, a constant mystery wrapped with a warning sign.
Adler is tempted to shut his eyes.
Or get out of here. He doesn’t dwell well in this atmosphere, this limited space shared with her alone. He probably should have listened to Hudson about taking Bell for this mission, but she’s the only one he trusts who won’t fuck this up. Not to mention her spotless Russian has proven to help them blend in with the crowd seamlessly.
He needs her, whether he would admit it aloud or not.
But she puts his head in such a spin.
She’s been near-mute since they departed from Germany. She barely acknowledges his questions and orders, barely looks at him. She’s been treating him as if he’s another shadow on the wall.
He rubs the side of his jaw. Something does need to be done about this.
“Are you going to stay quiet forever?” Adler asks. He’s bad at this, but he can’t stand her silence for much longer. Not to mention, they’re at the Lubysnka- the fucking lion's den. If she wants to wallow over Mason’s absence or sinks into whatever melancholic feeling she’s in, she can do it later.
Bell hums, her mouth curls up like serpentine. Adler sketches a confused frown. And she says, “I don’t know. Should I?”
And then, sudden and swift, Bell undoes the cuffs of her uniform. Beady eyes never leave his.
The sight catches him off guard. Somewhere in his mind, he curses something like ‘you’re a beast’ and ‘what the hell are you?’ at her, all in negative connotations. The effects she inflicts on him is maddening.
“What are you doing?” Adler doesn’t bother to hide his surprise.
Bell shrugs and gestures to the duffle bag at their feet. “Gearing up.”
Oh. Embarrassment wells up in him. Fucking hell, this woman will be the death of him.
Her fingers quickly move on to the buttons, still indifferent, nearly tearing them from the seams. The first glimpse of her skin and Adler can’t help but give in, openly stares at her in a way he has never imagined before. Her clavicles like daggers glinting in the lamplight.
Curiosity is a dangerous and heavy load.
He should have closed his eyes.
“Enjoying the show?” Her voice pulls him back from his musings. Her eyes still zero in on him, cutting him to pieces.
Her cleavage comes into view.
The lines on Adler’s face grow taut.
“What do you want, Bell?” He asks, intending for a bark but it ends somewhere like a plea.
“I want many things. As of right now, I want Alex’s cock inside me.” And Adler nearly chokes on his own breath. Bell, eagle-eyed as ever, caught the movement. “But it seems someone insists on being in control of everything, isn’t he?” she snaps.
Adler’s back goes rigid. Trepidation bubbles up in his chest.
Of course, she knows.
“It's not about control.” Adler turns around. He doesn’t quite know what he’s avoiding at this point, her flesh or the truth. “It’s about what’s right.”
He hears her uniform touches her floor as she laughs, mirthless, like broken chandeliers. “I didn’t know whose cock I’m riding is any concern of yours.”
“It is when he’s a member of the team,” he seethes. “What you’re doing with Alex will only lead to complications. And I can’t have tha-”
“Because this is all about you, isn’t it? It’s about upholding your precious reputation in the Agency, controlling the narrative the way you want it no matter how many characters you kill off in the process. It’s always about what you want.” Bell interrupts, not missing a beat. “You selfish motherfucker.”
"This has nothing to do with my reputation in the CIA."
She scoffs. "Spare me the crap, Adler."
Adler turns to fully face her again and holds his arms open, the way someone is facing the firing squad. “Fine. Fine, yes, I’m a selfish motherfucker. I did it because I thought it could ruin the operation. Is that what you wanted to hear? Now, what are you going to do about it?”
She says nothing at first. He silently catalogues her movements as she steps towards him now, half-naked and furious. He feels pinned.
Then, “What do you want me to do about it?”
His mouth dries at the implication. She is temptation, benediction, the coarse ice block before the carver.
How terrible it is to lose control, even just once.
A knowing, vicious smirk flashes over her face. Adler feels like he’s just shown his hand.
“You are one selfish bastard and a coward to boot, aren’t you?” Bell sneers before he has a chance to respond. “At least, Alex was brave enough to make the first move, but you…” her gaze raking up and down his figure coldly, a jeweller presented with second-grade imitations. Wind her up and this honey bee stings.
“You’ll always be the man who hides behind his shades,” she says, dry as dust, and steps back and snatches her clothes from the bag.
This is, without a single doubt, the longest elevator ride he’s ever experienced in his life. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Adler arrived back in Berlin breathing a little harder. Worry wrapped around his neck like a noose, placed by Bell herself; the judge, jury and executioner.
The knot tightens every time his mind refers to her.
The agency trained him, specifically, to keep calm under pressure. He didn’t coin the title “America’s Monster” from his colleagues for nothing. They don’t fear him because he’s hot-headed or thinks in large-scale violence— guns blazing, napalm-induced flames over the hill in the morning, bloodied knuckles and fractured jaw, blood-soaked soles tarnishing the white marble floor. Someone can point a fucking shotgun to his face and he’ll barely flinch. Only monsters remain impassive to direct threats of violence.
But there’s something about Bell that elicits this visceral, primal reaction out of him. Something strange and new; lightning about to be uncapped from its chains.
It chokes him, frightens him to the core.
How gauche is it, don’t you think, that his own mind is conspiring against him?
Now, in the garage, where it dawns on Adler that she’s probably the only person who can make him walk around the city, feeling like a fool, he decides he’s had enough. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“I’ll drive you back.”
Adler apprehends Bell outside the garage. He kind of assumed she’d have a pistol aimed at his head right now, but she spins around, hands shoved deep inside her pockets and clayey mouth curls in distaste.
“Get in the car, Bell,” Adler says tightly, almost adding please.
But he would not beg.
The brunette remains rooted in her place. For a moment, a calculating look crossed her face. Always, always that sharp mind of hers turning and he wonders where it would take her this time.
“Try asking nicely,” she demands.
Adler’s eyes flash. She really is testing him. But fine, he'll play her game.
“Bell, would you kindly get in the car?” He is all but snarls, teeth gritting. Bell hardly wavers- he wishes she would waver for a change.
She does what he asked of her, finally, the shadow of a smirk on her face mocking him. Adler follows suit, teeth still clenched together, and starts the car and drives away.
It's sort of like a deja-vu, he supposes; him and her in this very same car, except that stupid krautrock music is absent this time. Neither says anything for the first twenty minutes. Everything feels heavily still.
Until he realizes she’s probably waiting for his move.
This might gloriously blow up in his face, yes, he knows this. Especially remembering the last time he was alone in a tight space with her, it had cost him his pride.
And his mind.
But he’s been here before, in the eye of the storm. He was at his calmest here. He has his cards prepared now.
Adler inhales deeply.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he utters resolutely. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t want to. “I was out of line, I admit it. Your affair with Mason should be no concern of mine but I really am just trying to look out for you.”
It’s weak, he knows. The words feel more like an anchor than an actual apology in his tongue anyway, but Adler didn’t expect that Bell would give him nothing. Not even an acknowledging hum, a scathing retort, a scoff. Nothing.
A twinge of irritation brews in his stomach. Why does she insist on playing games?
The car comes to a stop. They’ve arrived. Adler wrests his hands from the steering wheel to say something harsh to her, but Bell is already stepping out of the car.
She stands on the sidewalk; an enigma in royal red, and her lethal, all-seeing eyes gravitate to him in the night.
There is a long paralyzing beat where they just stare at each other- which seems to be a running theme between them lately. Adler is fuming, as he is confused.
It feels like hours, centuries, eons, but, like all magic, the spell is broken. Courtesy of a stranger hailing a cab behind his car.
Bell turns and walks inside the building. She doesn’t bother sparing him the final glance or extend her appreciation for the ride back and Adler thinks to himself, this universe, god fucking damnit, nothing makes sense here.
But it is also in moments like this that the world spins, when he notices a singular, significant detail that makes his stomach roll, nearly throwing him off balance:
Bell left the passenger door open.
And he’s insane- he has to be, right? He’s looking too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything. His mind conjures an image, like a graphic guideline or something, step one: get out of the car, two: make your way around and close the passenger door, and third: zoom out of the neighborhood while your sanity is still intact, all in that order. Easy to comprehend, to follow.
Adler only does the first two steps. He’s ass-backwards doesn’t even bother to digest the third step.
He enters the hotel instead and takes in the surroundings. The lobby is pointedly bare, but warm and smoky. The concierge is reading behind the counter- a young, wiry boy with shocking bleached hair- with headphones on. It’s late, he probably doesn’t expect anyone to check in at this hour.
A movement by the staircase catches his interest. He sees Bell climbing up the steps slowly, leisurely. Adler makes his way there.
Halfway reaching her floor, Adler has the inkling that she knows that he’s following her. Also, because the next she does is glancing back at him over her shoulder. He waits for her to push him down the stairs or wrap those delicate hands around his neck. She does neither. She doesn’t want him gone.
Yet, his mind betrays him. Only because she doesn’t know what other atrocities he’s committed to her.
She stops by her door, opens it and goes in first. Adler, without waiting for a formal fucking invitation, slips in behind her.
Her room is much smaller than his. The TV is still on- a German dubbed of All the President’s Men is playing- a stack of books and meds lying haphazardly on the desk table.
The door clicks shut behind him. Bell wanders over to the table and turns off the TV. Her back to him.
She doesn’t bother turning the light switch on. The green neon of the hotel sign outside illuminates the room, bathes her in it, making her look even stranger and faraway.
He doesn’t take off his sunglasses.
“What do you want, Bell?” Adler is all but snarling. His anger comes in a bottle with a twist-off cap. “I’m fucking sick of playing your games. I apologized, I admitted I was wrong- I fucked up, but what more could you want?”
Jesus, and now he’s losing his temper over a brainwashed Russian who rarely talks. How did it come to this?
She tugs off her gloves. Once again, barely acknowledging him. Apparently, if ignoring him is an art form, she is the fucking Monet.
Until:
“Take them off.”
Adler blinks hard behind his glasses. Like he’s just stepped into a whole different earth.
His mouth moves.
“What?”
“Your sunglasses. Take them off.”
He stares at her back. Trying really, really hard to make sure he’s not hallucinating this, but then Bell turns around, a finger tapping against her arm, waiting.
Realization hits him like an uppercut in the face and nearly leaves him in a daze. He’s walked into a trap. That much is clear as day. She wants him to suffer as she does. An eye for an eye.
Adler holds no modicum of control in her domain, not unless she gives the reins. Once again, she plays the judge, jury and executioner at her own court.
But, like before, he’ll play her game.
There, the glasses are off. His eyes, bare, blue like fractured ice, meeting hers. In the dark, he feels her eyes shift to assess his bruise.
His heart booms against his ribs.
"Kneel,” she says glibly.
He obeys, again. His legs and hands don’t shake, but his mind is much less governable than his limbs. No, the CIA didn’t prepare a manual for situations like this and he doesn’t trust his instincts to help him dance his way around this.
Nor does he want to.
The thought fucks him up to a degree.
Adler should have known that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees, no, no. That would have been too easy, anyway. Although history has dictated and taught him that women are never to be underestimated, Adler hasn’t expected that one woman would be able to do the deed and succeed.
But then again, when that woman is Bell, he supposes anything is possible.
When Bell approaches him, he’s unable to take his gaze from her. Her eyes spangle with determination, an avenging soul in the neon lights. Her fingers work on the sash of her coat. The line of her mouth is flat and inscrutable. The air crackles with electricity and a promise of the unsayable, the unattainable.
She stands over him now, gloveless and coatless. She’s powerful like this and he can only crane his head up at her, ceding his fate in her hands, against his better judgement. She catches that.
Suddenly, something unpleasant breaks on her face, like when one’s smelling something foul or pungent.
Bell reaches down and grips his jaw painfully in one hand, her nails digging into his skin, and tilts his head sideways. Strange that his stomach leaps at that.
“Say you’re sorry,” she spits furiously. “And say it like you fucking mean it.”
He feels, suddenly, triumphant and chuckles darkly. Eight fucking long weeks and the beast finally shows her claws.
“Try asking nicely,” Adler parrots her words from before, not a beat missed. Two can play that game, he thinks. "Or are you above niceness, Bell?”
Her grip tightens.
"You’re one to talk,” Bell says. Then, rubs the pad of her thumb over his scarred cheek and it feels like forgiveness, or the beginning of it, at least.
His confusion spikes.
Her nose skims down his jawline.
A better, sensible man would apologize. He'd squander it until his tongue burns acid, he'd beg for her forgiveness like a man asking for repentance before his god.
“Why did you do it, Russell?” Bell whispers against his skin now, baleful and raspy. Her chest rising and falling too rapidly.
But he’s a sick bastard, a selfish motherfucker, a heartless monster. All he does is hurt the people around him. He doesn’t get to take from her, not after what he's done.
Still, Adler catches her wrist. Relishing the way her wrist bone grinds under his hold. He pulls his face back to look at her.
“You know why.”
Her eyes flick dangerously to his lips.
Desperation really can make the most vulgar things tolerable.
“Then prove it.”
So he does. As his hand reaches up to her neck, past the delicious column of her throat and with a precise swift, Adler grabs a fistful of her hair, the feminine gasp escaping her mouth is like a jolt to his groin, and kisses her.
Bell responds in kind. That little beast. She grasps his collar and drags him up to his feet, impatient with want. She laps at him, bites and sucks. His free hand snakes around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.
She pulls away, catching her breath, and his teeth skim down her jaw, her neck. He bites her there in retaliation, on the delicious junction of her neck and shoulder, into the fabric of her shirt, making his intentions clear. Bell chokes in surprise and scrapes her nails over his scalp.
It hurts. But with pain, along comes pleasure and it’s good. It’s so good, Adler melts with a shaky breath.
His gloves come off first. Next, she pulls him free off his jacket, his sweater and snakes a hand between his legs, stroking him. He bites off a strangled ‘fuck’ into her throat. He’s worked up real fast already. Adler manages to make a short work of her shirt, unclasping her bra before he’s all but pushes her onto the bed.
Adler settles above her, capturing her lips in another feverish, hot-blooded kiss. He tugs her zipper down and slips his hand inside her pants. Her cunt’s everything he’s come to expect: wet, warm and oh-so wrong. She sucks in a breath. Her hips move against his hand. His blood sings. She throws her head back against the pillow, while his finds her earlobe.
“Has this proven my point, Bell?” he asks. His answer starts on a moan and ends with a breathless ‘yes’.
He doesn’t let her come that easily. No, he wants to drag this out for as long as he can until it drives her mad. So, Adler peels the rest of her clothes away, pulls her shoulder and turns her onto her stomach. He pins her down, hard. She gasps loudly against the white pillowcase, her hand fists into the sheets.
Adler slots himself behind her. His hand tracing along her spine, followed by his mouth, just how he fantasized once upon a time. His other hand quickly undoes the snap of his pants. Everything has been poisoned by her and her only; she is in his tongue, his veins, his mind, his lungs. She takes the centrefold of his mind and it's ridiculous.
He presses himself against her ass. His mouth falls open. Her body trembles. She’s all sin and racing hearts and sweaty flesh. She’s perfect. His now free hand slides up to the nape of Bell’s neck, reaching her throat, pressing down. She makes this high-pitched, demanding noise as she moves her hips back against him, leaving him wanting, helpless at the thought of having her right here, right now, in the warm neon glow of her hotel room.
“Please,” Bell begs. He groans in response and he gives it to her. Fuck, he’d give her anything if she begs just exactly like that.
When Adler is finally inside her, he thinks his world drops dead. He sets a merciless pace. He is not a gentle man and there is nothing gentle in the supple arch of her back, a rose bent backwards in the wind, as he pants along her neck before he pulls out, twists her onto her back again and pushes deeper into her until she comes apart underneath him (he’s made sure she begs for it- please, Russell. Oh god, Russell)
(He didn’t have to. Russell Adler is never the kind of man to fall for his dark side, but Christ knows he is only one man)
#russell adler#russell adler x bell#adler x bell#cod cold war#cod bell#cod#call of duty#call of duty black ops#call of duty cold war#alex mason#frank woods#helen park#lawrence sims#jason hudson#lazar azoulay
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Headaches and Hospitals
A/N: I love JJ idk why so many people crap on her. And we need more JJ content pleasee
Summary: Who would’ve thought that passing out would lead you to the best decisions you have ever made?
CW: Marriage, pregnancy, hospitals, little mentions of the case. Nothing to serious just lots of fluff.
You felt like crap. Like you just wanted to get back in bed and not get up but you had tons of paperwork to do. You got ready like usual and tried to hide how sick you felt.
“Morning kid.”
“Hey Morgan.” You sat in your chair and rubbed your temples, trying to get rid of you stubborn headache. You pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and took some with some of your water.
“Hey, babe are you ok?” You looked up to your girlfriend standing next to you.
“It’s just a headache Jayje.” You smiled and kissed the top of your head. “I’m going to go make coffee do you want a cup?” She nodded.
“That would be nice, thank you. Just bring it to my office-nope conference room, we have a case.” You stood up to go get her coffee and felt dizzy. You closed your eyes and held onto your desk to keep steady. “Woah, you ok?”
“Yeah I’m fine. Go get ready I will bring you some coffee.” She did so but was very hesitant about it. You brought her the coffee and sat down in your usual spot.
“Thank you. Cincinnati Ohio, 3 women found in their houses. Women were all choked to death.”
“How do you know they were choked?” Derek questioned. JJ clicked the remote and pictures of the women being choked. You looked away and down at your file. You looked at dead bodies all the time but for some reason, this just made your stomach churn.
“Has Garcia been able to track the pictures and where they came from?” You asked.
“No. They were printed. Someone scanned them to show us.” You nodded.
“No visible tattoos. No marks to define him at all. Wearing gloves so he left no DNA, this guy really thought of everything.”
“This has to be premeditated. He somehow gets into the house without breaking in or scaring them, and then corners them maybe?” Emily pointed out.
“Which is exactly why we have to leave soon. The time is getting shorter between each murder. Wheels up in 30.”
“All of the women look similar to each other. All of them have blonde hair, similar heights, and they are all wearing almost identical dresses. Garcia do any of the victims have a partner?” She clicked her mouse a couple of times.
“Yes. From what it looks Abby was just proposed to, Cheyenne had a long term boyfriend, and Kayla was about to get married.” She sounded so disappointed as he talked.
“So if his long term partner left him, then he was angry. Whoever she is, she was the trigger.” You added.
“Ok, JJ I want you and Y/N to talk to victims families and partners. Emily, Reid and Derek go to the latest crime scene. Me and Rossi will go down to the M.E.’s office.” You moved back to where you and JJ sat before. Your headache slowly was getting worse but you had to ignore it. You had a job to do.
“Y/N, are you ok?” You looked at your girlfriend.
“Baby, I promise I’m fine. I probably just need something to eat. As soon as we land I will grab something ok?”
“Fine, but I don’t want you stressing yourself out to much. You look tired, like you haven’t been sleeping.” She moved into the chair next to yours. “Get some rest, it’s a short ride but a nice nap might help.” You smiled at her. She was always concerned for your well being and never left you alone if she thought something was wrong. She was stubborn but a good person. You rest your head on her shoulder and cuddle up on the chair. She lays her head on yours as you drift to sleep. She was right, you did need some sleep, but the nap was no help. You still had a headache and got dizzy once more while walking in to the cars. She drove both of you to the police department where you met with the families. You started with the latest victim, Kayla’s fiancé Matt.
“Hi Matt. I’m Jennifer Jareau and this is Agent Y/N Y/L/N. We have a couple of questions for you if that’s ok.” He nodded and you sat down next to him.
You spent the next 20 minutes talking to Matt about his fiancée. You felt an overwhelming amount of sadness hearing how he talked about her. She was a insanely good person who took every precaution. After you had finished your questions your thanked him and moved on to the next family. Each of them brought your moods down even more. JJ had been helping you with the questions because she was still new to profiling. You had helped her study and get ready for everything when she was becoming one and it made you so proud. When she came back to the BAU you were so happy because this meant she wouldn’t have to leave for her job anymore.
By the time you had finished your headache was 5 times worse than it was this morning. You closed your eyes and held your head in your hands.
“Not getting any better?” You shook your head. “Why don’t I take you to the hotel?”
“No that’s fine. We have a lot of work to do.”
You spent the rest of your day trying to make up a geological profile with Reid and JJ. Nothing was happening and everything just sucked.
After 6 days of work and 2 more victims, you got a call from someone saying a man broke into her house. You all geared up because he changed is M.O. on the last victim and used a gun. You drove with the Derek and Emily to the house. You 3 went in the front and Hotch, Rossi, and Reid went through the back. Everything was going well until you were about to catch the Unsub. You started to feel dizzy, your vision was fading and suddenly you were falling. Luckily Reid was behind you and noticed you shifting before you fell.
“I swear I am going to murder that girl. I kept telling her to rest and relax for a second but she wouldn’t listen. God she is so stubborn.” You woke up in a hospital from hearing your girlfriends voice.
“Mmm, I learn from the best.” You reached for your girlfriends hand.
“You’re so lucky I love you Y/L/N.”
“I am pretty lucky huh. Come here.” You moved over in the hospital bed and set a place for her to lay down. “Lay down. Don’t be stubborn come here.” She smirked slightly and laid down. She put her arm around you as you rest your head on her chest. She ran her fingers through your hair. “I love you Jennifer Jareau.” You whispered.
“I love you too Y/N Y/L/N.” She kissed the top of your head and you held her hand.
“We should get married.” You looked up at her and smiled. “Right? Jennifer Jareau, I love you so much. I don’t have a ring or anything but, will you marry me?” She pulled you in for a kiss. “I’m taking that as a yes?”
“You bet your ass that’s a yes. On one condition.” You nodded. “You stop fainting in front of unsubs.” You smiled and pulled her in for a sweet kiss. You sat there for a second before she pulled away.
“Sounds like a deal. The moment we land, I am taking you and we are going ring shopping.” She smiled.
“I think that’s a great plan.”
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Your legs felt like jello as you stood at the alter, waiting for JJ to walk down. When you did see her, she was absolutely gorgeous. You wore the jumpsuit the both of you picked out and she wore dress. You couldn’t help but stare at her beauty as she walked down the aisle. “God you’re gorgeous.” You saw her blush at your compliment. She took your hands and Emily started officiating. You weren’t really listening much though, you were too focused on the woman in front of you.
“Jennifer Jareau. When I first met you, all I thought about was how kind and beautiful you were. I knew that you had to be my person. I had to at least be friends with that girl. And luckily I got just that. I’ll be honest, when you met Will I was kind of disappointed. I thought, I wont ever get her, I was too late. But I couldn’t be happier that you met him because now you have Henry. I love that kid so much, he brings so much joy in to everyone’s life. And, Will sorry, when you and Will broke up, I was elated. I knew that I had to take my chance. So I gave you some time to cope with everything before deciding it was now or never. When you said yes to that date, I thought I would cry. When I stayed over the first time, I thought it would be weird with Henry. I thought he wouldn’t want me to stay over. Luckily that kid takes after you. He is kind, and smart, and has terrible eating habits. When he cuddled up to me for the first time I did cry. I cried because your baby trusted me and that’s the most important thing to me. I promise to take care of him everyday and to love him wholeheartedly. Loving you means loving him and I am nothing but prepared to shower him with love and respect. I love you so much Jayje.” You saw a tear roll down her cheek as Henry came up to you. You held him on your hip, both of you placing a kiss on his head before JJ started her vows. Her promise to you.
“Y/N Y/L/N. If you could hear the phone call of me telling Emily you had asked me on a date, it would consist of us both screaming into the phone. The night we went out together I fell in love. I didn’t realize what I had been missing my entire life. I was hesitant to ask you to say over that night because I was worried about how Henry would react, but you were so good to him. You always have been. And whenever I saw you with Henry my heart grew and so did my love for you. You have been nothing but good to me and him and I couldn’t ask for a better person to help me parent my child. You however are so stubborn. Like the most stubborn person I have ever met. You wouldn’t go back to the hotel for one day. You wouldn’t relax for one day and I guess I can’t be mad because if you had, if you had started to feel better that day, we wouldn’t be here in this moment. We aren’t the most typical couple but I couldn’t ask for someone better. Thank you for everything you have done for me and Henry. We both love you some much.”
“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wives! You may now kiss the bride.” You didn’t hesitate for a second as she pulled you into a kiss.
You smiled at your new wife sitting in front of you, taking in her beauty when you heard Emily tapping her glass. “If I could have everyone’s attention. Hi, I’m Emily. I met these women around 6 years ago and if I could take back everything and change it, I wouldn’t. When I joined the BAU I met these two women who were extremely clingy and affectionate but only towards each other. When I heard that Y/N had proposed I cried. Like I cried and I think Garcia has proof. The kindest women I had ever met have fallen in love and I was lucky enough to witness it. I was gone for some time and protected by them. They both risked all of their friendships to keep me safe, even if it meant putting themselves in danger. Everyday they save people without fail. If you haven’t met him already, next to JJ, is her son Henry. He wrote something for me to read, so here goes. ‘Dear Y/N. Thank you for making my mama happy. Before she was sad and it made me sad. You made her happy and made me happy.’” You felt the tears start to form in your eyes and called Henry to come sit in your lap. You held him close as Emily continued to read. “‘Thank your for being so nice to me and making me cakes all the time. They are really good. I love you mom.’” When you heard the last thing, the tears started to flow. You held the little boy even closer, whispering ‘I love you too’ in his ear. It was the first time he ever called you his mom. “I think that just perfects the night. I would continue but I cannot top that. Congratulations ladies. We all love you so much.” She raised her glass. “To Y/N and JJ. May they have their happily ever after.” You raised your glasses and clinked them while setting in a sweet kiss.
“Ew!” You laughed and pulled away at Henry’s comment.
“Ok little man.” You grabbed her hand. “May I have this dance?” JJ held your hand and you led her to the dance floor, your arms around her waist and hers around your neck. Her head laid on your chest, underneath your chin, as the both of you swayed. “Thank you.”
She looked at you. “For what?” A smiled grew on your face.
“Everything. Loving me. Trusting me with Henry. Taking care of me. Letting me take care of you. I love you Mrs. Jareau.”
“I love you too Mrs. Jareau.” Everything else was a blur. Everything but her.
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“Can we talk?” You sat her down on the couch.
“Y/N are you ok?” You could see the concern on her face.
“I’m fine. I wanted to ask you something.” She nodded to give you permission to ask the question. “Jayje, I wanna have a baby.” Her face lit up.
“Really?” You nodded and she pulled you into a hug. “Of course.”
That week the both of you did a crazy amount of research. You found a good doctor and made an appointment. A couple months later you were pregnant. You were both ecstatic.
“JJ. We are going to have a baby.”
You had both decided that you wanted to wait to tell the team in case something happened. However it became very hard to do this because your emotions were everywhere. The extra hormones you had to take were wearing off a little at this point but now the hormones you produced during pregnancy were taking over. Your temper was short and you cried all the time. You had morning sickness as well so you were constantly sick. The team thought something was up but didn’t ask what was happening. At 4 months you decided to tell the team because you were starting to show and eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide it. You decided to tell them right before a case.
“Wheels up in 30.”
“Um, before any of your guys go, me and JJ have something to tell you.” Everyone waited around but they looked nervous.
“You guys are still together right? And neither of you are leaving, right?” You smiled at shook your head at Penelope.
“No, well kind of but no we aren’t leaving and yes, we are still together.” You looked at JJ before pulling out a small box and handing it to Hotch. “Will you open this?” He nodded and took the box from you without question. JJ held your hand. He let out a small gasp and smiled.
“What? Hotch, what is it?” Derek questioned. He took the ultrasounds out and placed them on the table. There was an audible gasp before the team looked at you. Penelope was the first to run over.
“Congratulations you two! Wait, who is pregnant?” You looked at your wife and raised you hand slightly.
“Congrats mamas.” Derek came over and hugged the both of you. Then Rossi, Blake, Hotch, and finally Spencer.
“If either of you need anything, just tell me.” You smiled and held your arms out for a hug. He accepted and you felt calm again. You had grown close with Spencer over the years. He was one of your best friends and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. You pulled away but still held his arms in your hands.
“Thank you Spence. Really.” He smiled and congratulated JJ before walking out with the team. You stood behind with JJ. “So what do you say baby? Should we go kick some ass?”
“I don’t think you’ll be doing much ass kicking.” You scoffed at her comment.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” She kissed you softly and whispered her next words on your lips.
“You struggled to put your shoes on this morning.” You stood there stunned as she pulled away and began to go get ready.
“I cannot believe you!” She smirks as she walks away.
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You decided to stop going out on the field at 6 months. Babies sometimes come early, why risk that. Why risk getting hurt on the field. You had everything figured out. You were 8 months getting slowly closer to 9. You would stay and help Garcia during everything. JJ was going to be there during the birth no matter where she was and everything was going to be perfect.
You knocked on Garcia’s office door. “Good morning lovely lady. How is the case going?” You weren’t feeling well that morning so you decided to rest a little after the sitter took Henry to school.
“Good so far I think. You doing ok?” You smiled and nodded.
“Yes. Ready to not be pregnant anymore but I’m ok.” Little did you know, your wish shall soon be granted. “How’s JJ? I was going to call her this morning but didn’t want to interrupt anything.”
“She’s good. She told me to tell you that she loves you. She really does you know. Like, I have never seen anyone love somebody so much.” You smiled.
“I love her too. Well I am with you today.” You pulled the chair you guys had put in her office when you first started staying back from cases. Her office was nice. Busy, but relaxing.
You spent the day with her, and the team at times, trying to figure things out. Henry came for a visit after school as the babysitter had a class she couldn’t miss. He sat in the ‘Batcave’ with you and Garcia playing with some toys she had. The day was long and nothing happened for awhile. Nothing happened until your baby decided to make their big entrance.
You had felt some contractions throughout the day just assuming they were Braxton hicks. You were good about hiding them too, but still Garcia noticed.
“Y/N, are you ok honey?” You smiled at her and nodded.
“Just a contraction. I’m okay.” Her jaw dropped.
“No ma’am. We are getting you to the hospital. Hey Henry? Can you pack up your ruck sack for me? We need to get Y/N somewhere, I think you might get to meet your little sibling today!” Henry instantly smiled and was frantically picking up. He walked next to you as Garcia took you downstairs. You called JJ as soon as you go into the car.
“Hey baby, you ok?” JJ questioned.
“No. I’m not. JJ you need to get on the jet and get down here now.” You yelled. The pain was starting to kick your ass.
“What? Y/N, what’s happening?” Garcia took the phone and put it on speaker.
“Hi JJ, you’re on speaker with Henry in the car. I am driving Y/N to the hospital, she was starting to have contractions and on our way out her water broke.” You heard JJ audibly gasp before hearing her yell at Hotch. She was screaming at him to get her on the jet which calmed you down surprisingly.
She stayed on the phone with you the entire time you drove to the hospital but you hung up when you got there. They got you into a room where you sat with Garcia and Henry until Will came to pick him up. Your labor was long, thankfully, so JJ was there for the birth of your daughter. The first time you held her, neither of you could take you eyes off of her.
“Do you have any name ideas?” JJ asked. You looked up and smiled for a moment before turning back to your daughter.
“I was thinking Rosaline.” You thought back to your wedding night. To your bestfriends speech before she left to go to London.
“Rosaline Emily Jareau.” You smiled and nodded.
“Hi Rosaline. We’re your moms.”
The introductions of your daughter was sweet. Hotch was asked to be her godfather and Emily her godmother. Garcia spoiled her rotten with gifts. Spencer eventually taught her new fun things. Derek taught her how to play softball and JJ taught her soccer. Rossi also spoiled her with love and gifts. When Emily got back she tried to teach her how to weald a gun, that however didn’t last long. Even as the team spilt apart, they all were there for her. You couldn’t ask for a better family.
#Jennifer Jareau#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau fluff#jennifer jareau fanfiction#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#david rossi#emily prentiss#henry lamontagne#Penelope Garcia#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds fluff
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(Part 1) Triple W Mafia George x Fem! Y/N series
Warnings: Swearing! that’s it really (unless I've missed something then please let me know)
Word Count: 2,174
Summary: George Weasley is a renowned Mafia boss who took over from his Father Arthur once he retired, to carry on the Triple W mafia legacy. The only mafia known to be able to keep the Death Eaters (their rival mafia) at bay. However there is one item that they stole from the Triple W’s which George is determined to get back...his mothers necklace, the family heirloom. Y/N Greyback has been forced to comply with the Death Eaters wishes as her family are high up members. What happens when George and Y/N meet? And what happens when they fall in love?
Series Masterlist
The lights were dim in the what looked like to be an old bar room, the red hue coming from the red lamp shades hitting the walls. Smoke from cigars fogging up the top half of the room barely keeping the floor below visible. At each table there were groups of men, all sitting in perfectly tailored suits, sipping on their glasses of whiskey, laughing and having a good time. At the back of the room however, sat one man, alone. His elbow propped up on the arm of his chair, his finger brushing over his top lip as if he were deep in thought. His other hand held the same glass as every other man in the bar, lazily not caring if it were to fall and smash everywhere.
The man, George Weasley, a tall ginger man who’s eyes were the dark but kind shade of brown. Although seemingly intimidating, George had a kind heart, if he seen someone being attacked or robbed in the street, everyone would end up feeling bad for the attacker by the time George was finished with him. He had no time for the scum who go out of their way to make someone else’s life a living hell in order for them to feel a small, temporary taste for a God complex.
George had only recently taken over the title of the Triple W Mafia Boss, when his father Arthur had decided it was his time to retire and pass over the family ‘business’ to one of his sons. George was one of 6 sons and one daughter within the Weasley family. His identical twin brother Fred was technically supposed to become the next Mafia boss, as he was the older twin. But, he had decided that his brother George was more fit to the job than he was. So, George gratefully took over the role and appointed Fred and his younger brother Ron, to be his sort of ‘Body Guards’ although, of course George was far from needing any form of help when it came to beating or killing a criminal, it was still always good to have a little back up sometimes.
“Hey Georgie, what’s the plan then? What we gonna do about these damn Death Eaters?”
George sat, not moving, deep in thought. ‘What was he going to do about those Death Eaters?’ He has no where to start, the bastards are constantly on the run. He was determined to find their whereabouts however, as they had stolen something very precious to him, his mother’s necklace. The Weasley family heirloom.
-
In a room that was very clearly abandoned and covered in moss and mould, sat groups of men and some women in black cloaks with peculiar pointed hoods. These people, in contrast to that of which the Triple W members, appeared extremely intimidating. The members of Triple W were intimidating, but these were the sort of people no one would want to encounter in the streets, day or night. There was no smoke from cigars in this small dingy room, there was however and eye watering stench, that was so strong some of the Death Eaters swore they seen a slight foggy green haze floating around the room.
All cloaked members were sitting in a circle all surrounding their leader Tom Riddle, or as he likes to call himself ‘Voldemort’. A tall man (not as tall as George) with black, short curly hair. He wasn’t wearing a cloak like his ‘followers’ but was wearing something that looked more like a bath robe, it was all black of course to fit in with the rest. All were listening in carefully to what he was saying, all apart form Y/N Greyback, daughter of Fenrir Greyback, a man who is considered very high up in the Death Eater mafia. She was sat in the corner, wearing a contrasting blood red dress that hugged all of her curves perfectly. Her Y/H/C hair was curled at the ends in neat ringlets, and she had some makeup on but not too much so she looked ‘dolled up’.
“We all know that the Triple W are cowering out in some fancy old bar, trouble is we don’t know where, I’ve had a few out scouting round the area, unfortunately they have all been caught” Riddle speaks out gesturing and engaging with his followers.
“What do you suggest we do then sir?” Said Fenrir who was sitting right next to where Riddle was parading around the room.
“I say we send out our most valuable member, of course, real them in, make them vulnerable” he smirked
“You don’t mean…”
“Oh yes, but I do, your daughter shall make excellent bate my dear friend, for she wears what Weasley most desires” Riddle finishes
Y/N too busy sat in the corner reading an old book, didn’t even notice that every Death Eater members eyes were on her, all smiling to themselves.
This may actually work, if we send out Y/N who is wearing that incredibly expensive looking, diamond necklace, it may just lure the idiot ginger straight to us” Fenrir laughed.
So their plan was set, send Y/N as bait and hopefully George would follow.
- George still hadn’t moved from the position he was sat in, he hadn’t taken a single sip of his drink, his eyes focussed and barely ever blinking. He was seemingly ignoring every person who tried to get a word out of him for some sort of plan to take down their Rival mafia. Sure he had killed a lot of spies they had sent out, but he was getting absolutely no leads on where exactly they were coming from, Riddle was smarter than he thought. It seemed he had Death Eaters coming from all over the country in all different directions and disguises. George had to find some way in order to track down where exactly they were based.
The sounds of other members arguing, specifically Fred and Ron who were standing right next to where George was sat, started to sound like a horrible ringing noise, it was driving him insane, how could he concentrate when these buffoon’s were yelling nonsense at each other.
“WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP” He yelled now getting up from his seat and walking to the middle of the smoky room.
“I can’t fucking think when you’re all fighting and arguing with each other on what we’re going to do. I am very aware that those bastards are close to finding us, alright? They’ve gained more members in the past few months than I can count on my two hands. Problem is, they’re coming from all over the country, there is no set direction from where they’re all coming from, meaning that they aren’t coming from their base. This brings us to our next problem, what we’re going to do about it. The only thing I can suggest right now, which I believe may actually be our only two options, is either we leave and find a new base OR we send out multiple people all round the general area of here just outside the boarders of this town where the forests are. Each mile will have two of our members, armed and ready to capture and interrogate anyone that comes from outside the town. This includes anyone who seems innocent to the eye I.e. a mother and child as we all know by now there are families who have been a part of the Death Eaters for years, long enough for them to welcome their children. If you see a mother and child however, you of course don’t attack them straight away, you take them for questioning and more importantly, you look for that damn skull snake monstrosity that they all have tattooed on their left forearm.”
George stands looking between each of his guys trying to gauge what they were thinking by their faces.
“So what’s it to be? Hands up if you think we should move”
No one put their hands up and George smiled knowing that everyone in Triple W are too loyal to the town of Diagon to even consider leaving.
“Good choice boys, now” he rubs his hands together “who’s volunteering to be part of the watch team?”
- Y/N couldn’t believe her ears when she heard the plan to trick Triple W into following her back to the Death Eaters. She also had no idea that the beautiful silver diamond necklace that hung lazily round her neck was the stolen Weasley heirloom.
The actions of her family disgusted her, she knew that what they stood for and what they were doing was wrong, but putting her in harms way all over a stupid rivalry, AND tricking her into thinking that the necklace she had was a gift. She felt so stupid for believing them, Y/N had no options but to accept that she was going to have to go along with their horrendous plan and bait George and other members of Triple W into following her back into her family and Riddle’s evil grasp.
“Perfect” Riddle smiled grimly when Y/N accepted
“But of course, we can’t just lure them in, in one mere night, no, you have to spread this out over the course of a few days. Have him become intrigued by you, follow you a little while. You’ll be staying in a place called the Leaky Cauldron, don’t let him see you in there, it’ll blow your cover. Make sure he only sees you walking through the streets. Got it?”
Y/N tentatively nodded her head
“Good, and then, when the time is right, you’ll lead him straight here. We’ll be in communication with you, don’t let me down”
Y/N shakily made her way to Diagon, bags packed and the necklace still hanging round her neck. She had since changed into a black, silk dress, helping the bright silver of the necklace stand out against the dark colour of her clothes, further, of course to draw George Weasley’s attention.
Once she had settled into her room at the Leaky Cauldron, she was given specific instruction to make sure she wondered round the street at night, as that is most likely when Triple W members will come out from wherever they were hiding.
Y/N took a step out into the cold crisp night air, her heels click clacking off the stone pavements. She couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the town, cobblestone roads winding all through it, the windows on each building slightly askew but somehow didn’t seem out of place. It was as if she were walking through an old victorian town.
Snapping her thoughts back to the task at hand, she pulled her black shawl over her shoulders more and continued to wander aimlessly round, trying to find some form of clue as to were Triple W were hiding.
- George was more than satisfied with the outcome of the meeting they had today. He had 40 people on a list to keep watch each mile surrounding Diagon, meaning that all 20 miles would be covered. They all had their instructions ingrained into their heads and were ready to get to work the next day. Fred and Ron as usual would stay within Diagon with George, communicating to those who were out surrounding the area getting updates and passing round information. George had also decided to send a few extra spies out, including his younger sister Ginny to be on the look out for any Death Eater members who may still be lurking round the town.
George, Fred and Ron made their way out of the old bar room, and onto the streets. George made sure that they each had means of contacting each other. Fred whom George would normally live with, agreed that they each should have their own flats or place to stay in order to cover more of Diagon, and therefore be more accessible to those out in the forest. With their last goodbyes and a few phone calls to book places to stay, the three brothers separated all going in opposite directions.
George headed down the street, his hands becoming slightly red from the cold, and he could see his breath in the air. The dim orange streetlights barely lighting up the path as he walked past the old crooked houses and shops.
Just a George turned the corner he bumped into someone, a woman, dressed in a black dress and shawl.
“Oh I’m so sorry miss, I wasn’t looking where I was going properly, these damn street lights barely light up 2 feet in front of you. Are you alright” George asked looking into her eyes with worry
“I’m perfectly fine, sir, thank you” she smiled back and walked away
But George followed her with his eyes, more specifically he followed her neck, because what was hanging from it made him do a double take. He knew those diamonds from anywhere, they way they glistened brightly in every light. Was that, his mother’s stolen necklace?
Taglist: @amourtentiaa @love-peachh @pens-and-roses @rosietoesy @comfortwriting @famdomhideout @dracofknmalfoy @pandaxnienke @georgeweasleysbabe @le-weasley-simp (MESSAGE/ASK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED)
#george weasley#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley imagine#george weasley x reader#fred and george#george weasley masterlist#George Weasley series#george weasley fluff#george weasley angst#george weasley smut#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley masterlist#fred weasley smut#fred weasley angst#fred weasley fl#harry potter smt#fred weasley fanfiction#weasley twins#weasley twins smut
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8th MEMEBR OF BTS
• STAGE NAME: Kim Yvonne (김 이본)
• BIRTH NAME: Park Chanelle
• BIRTHDAY: December 31st, 1995
• HEIGHT: 5"9
• PROFESSION: K-pop Idol
• GROUP: BTS
• LABEL: Big Hit
• POSITION: Lead Vocalist, Visual,Sub-rapper, writer, producer.
• DEBUT DATE: June 13th, 2013
• FACE CLAIM: seunghwibaby on ig
• VOICE CLAIM: Madison Beer+Ariana Grande. Rap voice claim: Lisa (BP)
EXTRA INFO ABOUT KIM YVONNE
• NICKNAMES: vonnie, nellie, baby, Big Hit's princess
• TALENTS: can play drums, electric guitar and piano.
• HIDDEN TALENTS: can hold her breath for 4 minutes, is very felixible, excellent at volleyball and basketball.
• LOVE LIFE: is currently single, has 4 exes.
• SUBLINGS: 1 twin brother, Park Jongin.
• SEXUALITY: she's bisexual
• AESTHETIC: femme fatale
• HER PERSONALITY: she's the sweetest little thing ever. everyone's first impression of her was 'bubbly, adorable and sweet'. she's extremely selfless and is constantly putting others before herself in any situation even if she's at a disadvantage. very smart, a little introverted. can be really quite or really loud, no in-between. can seem cold on the outside but she's the warmest person on the inside. broken gen z humor. clingy baby, loves skinship.
• was diagnosed with ADHD Inattentive was she was 13, anxiety and depression when she was 19.
• is unsecure about her looks
• fake maknae
• has three awards on her solo project
• her voice is on the deep side but she can go really high
• MUSIC GENRE: loves pop, RnB and Trap.
• PETS: two chow chow dogs, Oliver and Sirius Black.
• TATTOOS: A sun and a Cresent on her hand, a cloud on her middle finger and ARMY'S shield on her ring finger, 'kookie'on her wrist, a heart in her palm, and a ⁷ behind her ear
• PIERCINGS: three on each ear, nose piercing.
• SOLO PROJECTS: 'Selenophilia' three singles and 10 songs in total.
'Venus Records' two singles and 9 songs in total
CELEBRITY CRUSHES:
• People Crushing On KYV:
• Jackson Wang (GOT7), Wooyoung and Seonghwa (ATEEZ), GRAY and Jay Park (AOMG), Jennie Kim (BLACKPINK), Chan and Han (STRAY KIDS), KAI (EXO).
• Crushes KYV has:
• Seonghwa (ATEEZ), Wonho, Jay Park, Hwasa (MAMAMOO), Jennie Kim (BLACKPINK), Madison Beer, Yeonjun (TXT).
A GUIDE TO THE SHIPS: withing BTS
VONJOON/RAPVON
• 45% family, 55% romance
• fourth biggest ship in K-pop.
• she's his baby, you can't convince me otherwise.
• she looks up to namjoon alot.
• king and queen of destruction
• writing duo
• calling eachother 'honey' platonically
• too many inside jokes
• can be annoying, because who ever is around them WILL third wheel.
• "BTS and the world third wheeling joon and vonnie for 25 minutes straight" videos
• back massages because carrying the music industry is painful
• they trust eachother so much
• will always spill to eachother about their worries.
• the respect is through the roof
• love for days
• vonjoon/ rapvon stans are either rock hard or soft af
• HUGS
• this man is a giant and the hight difference is just enough for him to scoop her up in his arms and squeeze the life out of her.
• they can carry smart conversations most of the time, but not all the time
• "joon, what's the difference between horses and donkeys?"
• "°_°"
• "deadass"
• wholesome relationship :)
SEOKVON/ VONJIN
• 70% family, 30% romance
• will babie her, he must babie her.
• he's so protective of his wittle vonnie
• is always checking up on her.
• he thinks she's the most precious angel in the world that need to be rocked to sleep and fed every couple of hours.
• gives everyone normal cups, but Yvonne get a sippy cup with sunflower prints on it.
• THEY LOUD AS HELL OH MY GOD
• one can spot their shenanigans from a mile away.
• a lot of "Jin and von being chaotic neutral" for an hour straight videos
• he taught her how to fish
• cooking buddies
• making cookies at 3 in the morning
• crackhead energy that fills up a tank
• will shamelessly stock up tampons and pads for her
• THE LOVE IS CONTAGIOUS
• INFECTIOUS LOVE
• sibling fights for no reason
• seokvon/vonjin stans are the softest ever
• wholesome babies
MINVON/ VONGI
• 65% family, 35% romance
• IS VERY VERY PROTECTIVE OF HER.
• has the biggest soft spot for her
• he's her little meow meow
• they go fishing together (w/ Jin)
• she has the passcode to his studio
• PRODUCER DUO
• the amount of unreleased tracks is insane.
• he pretends he doesn't like her hugs, but in reality he instantly melts in her arms.
• the only person he'll let cuddle him.
• deep convos
• stargazing
• sharing bandanas
• not a lot of skinship
• keeping eachother entertained during award shows
• WIGGLY YOONGI DANCE TOGETHER
• gummy smiles :')
• minvon/vongi stans are soft and well fed
• playing basketball together
• armys making "suga and yvonne being babies" compilation videos
• they're the type of duo who you be in a room doing literally whatever and someone you'd walk in, stare at them and slowing retreat thinking they just walked into some cult activities
• silently take care of eachother
• smallest acts of intimacy
• tiny babies
JUNGVONNIE/VONHOPE/HOVI
• 50% family, 50%romance
• team chaos
• THE ULTIMATE DANCE DUO OH MY GOD
• doing the weirdest things ever without questioning it
• compliments that turn into, "no u, no u, NO I SAID YOU"
• he's secretly her favourite
• yvonne and hobi are basically what its like to mix gummy bears, skittles, rainbow belts and honey. SWEETNESS AND HAPPINESS AND SUNSHINE ALL AROUND UWU
• THE VOLUME IS ASTRONOMICAL
• but like thank god one of them has an iq above 6
• the amount of "hobi and voni being rays of sunshine" for 30 minutes straight videos is insane
• Comfort Inn ™
• CUDDLES
• she will cling to him as if he's the last human alive.
• they're in their own universe almost all the time
• jungvonnie/vonhope/hovi stan are so soft if they see a video of hobi and voni laughing they will cry
• loveliest relationship
TAEVON/ 2V/ VONHYUNG
• 20% family, 80% romance
• third biggest ship in K-pop
• they get a little too hot on stage
• she's his favourite person
• she makes him feel so safe
• the walking memes
• GUCCI EVERYWHERE
• being weird together
• always teamed up in any situation
• DEEP VOICE DUO
• dog parents
• yeontan, Oliver and Sirius are literal siblings
• coffee 'dates'
• actual fashion icons
• king and queen of resting bitch faces
• skinship at its finest
• a new dating rumor every other day it's not even shocking at this point
• they are always taking naps somewhere, can be backstage, can during an award show, can be during practice, doesn't matter. naps.
• they're always there for eachother, mentally and physically.
• "tae and vonnie being adorable for 10 minutes straight" videos
• t r u s t
• are always playing with each others hair
• taevon/2V/vonhyung stans are either hardcore af or soft af
• sweetest relationship
( i can't add a jimin gif due to a limit in submitting)
JIVON/VONMIN/2PARK
• 2% family, 98% romance
• biggest ship in K-pop
• they're always together no matter what
• skinship to the literal max
• holding hands, cheek kisses, cuddling, hugs, sitting on each other's laps, all of it.
• matching hair colours.
• they're either being the tiniest babies together or everyone's OTP, no in between.
• 'power couple' at award shows, matching outfits, dance solos, harmonizing together, they got it.
• all over eachother on stage, as if no one is watching.
• Yvonne 'platonically' calls jimin baby, but he blushes everytime.
• him calling her noona
• they don't give the army the chance to breath, because they are never here to play
• they have the most iconic lines that genuinely sound like fake subs
• que the "jimin and yvonne being a married couple for 20 minutes straight" videos
• they are either really chill or hella energetic
• the jivon/vonmin/2park stans are probably the hardest stans in the fandom.
• sweethearts :')
( I can't add a jungkook gif)
VONKOOK/ JEONVONNIE
• 10% family, 90% romance.
• second biggest ship in K-pop
• golden maknaes
• vocal duo
• "_____ hyung won't scold us"
• they're banana milk addicts
• poutty bunnies
• she's literally kookie's role model
• he always has his head on her shoulder
• they have several matching tattoos (a heart on their palms, he has 'vonnie' on his wrist and she has 'kookie' her wrist, and a '⁷' behind their ears).
• they're always covering songs together
• crackhead energy is through the roof
• they are the chaotic good/evil
• hands all over eachother all the time
• on stage
• during practice
• on vlives
• awards shows, whatever
• fancams of their solo performances always tend to go viral
• whenever they're are in the same room, just know something is going to get spoiled. always.
• king and queen of highnotes
• "jungkook and yvonne being BTS' babies" videos
• they (+tae) are rapline's biggest fans
• the weird drunkies
• they are always eating something, can be ramen, can be an unpeeled banana, you never know.
the vonkook/jeonvonnie stans are the most confused turned on stans ever, but they are quite well fed.
( lmao I hope u liked this)
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Hi, I know you’re a fan of namjoon so I wanted to ask your thoughts on this ring thing? I’m kinda new and assumed all these namjoon is married with kids stuff were a joke. But some people seem to totally believe that. I mean where he’d get the time to see a partner and kids is beyond me but who knows? Anyways I was looking at some of their recent pics and he doesn’t wear it all the time - which if it was a couples ring - wouldn’t he? I thought maybe he would only wear it if they were appearing on Run or Korean shows, but he didn’t have it on for either of the new shows they’ve been on recently, as they may not have been as widely watched. I mean I guess it’s none of our business - but I’m trying to rip of my delulu hat for making me think Seokjin gave it to him 🙈
Hi anon, I hope you don’t mind that I’ll combine my answer for you with my answer to another ask since I feel like they fall into the same kind of category, as in people taking things too far and/or blowing things out of proportion. And, coincidentally, both have something to do with rings.
I’ll start with your question though and give you another example that followed a very similar trajectory as the omg namjoon is married with kids because ring narrative/theory. Some months ago, Namjoon posted a few pictures on twitter and among them was a picture of him with another guy wearing a green sweater. His face though was covered. At first ARMY didn’t think much of it, but then, eventually, someone started a joke that “remember that sweater Joon wore for BV4? The guy is wearing the same one, what if that's his boyfriend?” and it went viral.
It started out completely harmless with hundreds of positive and funny tweets made in good humor, no one taking it that seriously knowing that we’d never find out even if it were true. But, as the jokes started to simmer down, everyone had their laugh, the next wave came in and this one decided that this isn’t a joke at all but serious matter. Quickly this harmless fun turned into a witch hunt of “ARMY” trying to figure out who the guy might be, if he is Namjoon’s mysterious friend that once sent him a coffee truck with custom drawn designs on it, perhaps the same one with whom Namjoon already once posted a picture sitting on this garden porch swing type thing, some even trying to prove that the guy is either Seokjin (in which case, what would be the need to cover his face?) or Florist Isaac whom they met during that one RUN episode.
So, very quickly a few idiots turned harmless fun into something almost malicious and got into fights with ARMY who were trying to tell them to stop.
The ring thing followed a similar story. It was once a harmless joke based on the fact that Namjoon wants to have kids one day, so some made jokes about what if he’s already married but we just didn’t know etc. But very quickly that got out of hand as well, going as far as people claiming the little girl in his pictures which he posted around his birthday or something is his daughter (even though it was said it’s probably the child actress from BTS WORLD) and that him making jokes (during a BangtanB while trying on glasses before their MOTS7 press con) about his child being able to read/write hangul at a very young age wasn’t jokes at all but solid proof of the fact that he is married with a child (despite the fact that he would’ve had to have gotten married and his wife pregnant not long after their debut for the timeline to even work out somehow which makes it seem even more ridiculous). This even went as far as people spamming the comments during this vlives with questions about it, flooded his selcas on twitter with questions and “jokes” and, again, attacked anyone who told them to stop.
In all of this, watching it happen from the sidelines as someone whose bias is Namjoon, I was confused why these particular rings (which I don’t even think were the same ones each time) caused such a reaction. The members have all worn so many different rings over the years, on all fingers, sometimes even like eight at the same time, and yet it wasn’t until 2020 and their KBS interview after their first BBH100 #1 that things went bonkers. All because Namjoon decided to take the ring off before they started filming or something.
In all of this I see two things that make me wonder:
When would he have the time to find a girl (since same sex marriage is not a thing in Korea) with whom he would have enough time to befriend her, trust her (considering who Namjoon is, that one is a major thing), fall in love, date and be together for a few years, and then get married? From Seokjin we know they have maybe two or three days off a month and work at least ten hours a day on their BH regulated schedules. Add to that the time they spend in the studio working on music outside of schedules, gym time, a few hours of sleep, and perhaps a few scarce hours of free time to (in Namjoon’s case) go to a museum or ride his bike, does that really leave enough time for romance (with an outsider) that leads to marriage (and a child)?
Is age 26 at the height of their career really the time for marriage? Even more so when you are someone like Namjoon, the leader of the world’s biggest group with more responsibilities than we can likely imagine as outsiders. Sure, he said he wants kids, but he can still have those in his thirties, he can also get married in his thirties, after all, life does not end once you hit thirty despite what some teens believe.
Lastly, I actually think that if it were true, Namjoon, or really anyone from the hyung line, would be the ones who wouldn’t have to hide it, at least not when compared to the maknaes. You could argue that “it would threaten their career” but would it really? Perhaps if the ring were from a man (some namjinists did make jokes that it’s like his promise ring from Seokjin or whatever, but it was all in good fun, nothing more than that), then yes, but connected to a woman? That one member from EXO also came out and said he’s getting married because his fiancé was pregnant and all it did was cause a few fansites to close and a handful of people to “protest” in front of the SM building.
Little correction about my comments about that EXO member, though even with this my point still stands:
From anon: Re: your last post about namjoon’s rings! I agree with everything you said but just a small correction. I’m not an EXO stan but it wasn’t just a a few “protests” or fansites closing. From what I read online, he his fiancée and later wife, and his child were harassed, threatened and stalked to the point where he enlisted early just to give his family some relief. We all know there are people like this in every fandom and I know BTS would be aware of these things, so they’ll be extra careful.
Would there be delulus like this who’d go crazy if Namjoon were to say “ARMY, I’m (getting) married”? Of course. Would it ruin BTS’ career? I seriously doubt it. Do I think Namjoon would actually come out and say it if it were the case? No, but not because it’s bad idol etiquette or because BH wouldn’t allow him, but because people are insane and who knows what they would do.
It’s the same with times when people argue “I wish X ML members would just say he has a girlfriend so the ship wars would end” without taking into consideration the girl’s safety and the fact that a partner different than the one X member is shipped with has never been that big of an obstacle for some before. Just create a conspiracy theory about the company forcing this upon them and voila problem solved. We’ve seen that before when the tattoo scandal happened, and people thought JK might be dating that tattoo artist and therefore it would mean he isn’t in a relationship with Jimin or Tae.
Whatever happens in the members private lives, it is safer for all parties involved if it stays private, even more so if their romantic partners were non-idols, or non-celebrities, or another member.
Now onto the second ring question:
From anon: I am a young army and I am slowly losing my bearings. I've seen Vlive S, H and V. Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it, and the V even wore the friendship ring for Jungkook. Is it true? I don't understand anything about it, I don't see it. After the last BTS interview on TV, I thought Vmin are best friends, not Tk*ok. I thought V said he didn't want Tk*ok and yet he was so happy during Vlive because it was Tk*ok day? Help!
Now this one, I was curious if we’d get an ask about this, even more since, if you’re a reader of our blog, you likely already know what I’m going to say.
Let’s start where you usually do—at the beginning. The day of the vlive coincided with what T*ek*okers have decided on is T*ek*ok Day, based on how supposedly some years ago this was the day Tae and JK named their subunit like this. I tried to find where exactly this happened, as in in which piece of official content, but I couldn’t find anything except for a screenshot. Anyone have a clue or a link?
Side note: T*ek*okers love using the “ship” naming as proof that not only are they real but also proudly showing it off by giving themselves a name but continently forget that they are not the only ones who gave themselves subunit names. After all Jimin and Namjoon named themselves MiniMoni, or Yoongi and Jimin who are MiniMini, Namjoon and Seokjin calling themselves RJRJ last year, or that one vlive with JK, Jimin and Seokjin where they also put together their names the way you build ship names. At the end of that vlive Tae, thanks to come prompting from the chat, named their trio vsope, so does that mean they are a romantic ship now too?
If you were watching that vlive as it was happening, and decided to look at the chat, then you know what was happening. For those who did not, basically the chat was flooded with comments about T*ek*ok Day, asking where JK is whom Tae loves, where his boyfriend JK is, congratulating Tae for T*ek*ok Day etc. Basically shippers took their shipping into a space where it doesn’t belong, into a space where the members can see it, and therefore purposefully broke one of the shipping rules (I even saw some tweet about how they were proud of themselves for literally spamming the chat with T*ek*ok comments which is so wrong, and I mean that regardless of which ship we talk about). In between those were the usual other comments like speak English or say hello to XYZ or say XYZ in whatever language, and very few comments that actually reacted to what the members were doing on screen. Like when Tae said he didn’t shave, instead of telling him that it’s fine, which it is, it’s his face after all, some decided to tell him he should shave more often, basically telling him what to do, which he saw and read out. Great job.
But all the madness came to a “climax” when Hobi was reading comments and among some other ones read out T*ek*ok, just the word not the T*ek*ok Day ones, and unfortunately we all knew he wasn’t reading out the Korean word for Thailand, which sounds the same though it is spelled a little differently. In that moment all hell broke loose. Focus cams of Tae’s facial expression in that moment went viral among shippers, most of course claiming he looked so happy, while other non-shippers claimed he didn’t look happy at all. It’s a micro moment so I won’t get into it, who knows what Tae thought in that moment and what his facial expression meant and if it even had any connection to the word and Hobi reading it out loud at all.
Because he read that comment, Hobi was basically crowned the new leader of the T*ek*ok shippers (I thought that role already went to Jimin?) and twitter basically had a meltdown.
As for the ring, I know this is something a lot of ships have, with romantic connotations according to their shippers, so I was curious how these rings supposedly look like in T*ek*ok’s case and if they even match the ring that Tae wore in the vlive. If it would, fine, if not, well…
If it’s not clear from the picture, the “supposed couple” or friendship rings are very delicate and thin, and sure enough I did find a lot of pictures in which both Tae and JK wore them, usually at different times, I will admit that. But the ring Tae wore during their vlive recently was much thicker and had some kind of design on it, therefore it’s a completely different one. Sorry. Why he wore it, if he bought it for himself or received it from someone, what emotional connotation to may or may not have, those are things we won’t know anything about unless he would tell us, so there's no point in speculating.
“Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it” now this is curious to me since I watched the vlive as it was happening, and I didn’t see that at any point in the vlive. Sure, Hobi read that one comment, but if 95% of comments were about that, I wasn’t even surprised by it. Perhaps he thought that it would get people to stop? Perhaps he just read whatever comments his eyes landed on? Perhaps something else entirely? We have no way of knowing it so there is no point in trying to fixate on it. But besides that, they were talking about many other things and having fun making their smoothies, decorating them and just having a good time together with each other and with ARMY.
So, this way of presenting the vlive basically comes down to shipper perception, confirmation bias, and simply, almost, rewriting history.
Rings do not determine who your best friend is (according to a quick google search, wearing a ring on your index finger simply means friendship or self-esteem/authority), after all many of the members have rings either from each other or ones that match, like Namjoon buying Jimin a Cartier ring for his birthday a few years ago which Jimin proudly wore since it’s really pretty, or pink and blue rings (there are several different ones, actually) that Namjoon has worn with Seokjin in the past (which fits into the Namjinist pink and blue agenda), or the rings Jimin and JK have together according to their shippers, and many more. Jimin and Tae have a whole plethora of matching jewelry in form of necklaces, rings, bracelets, even contact lenses (as in wearing one of each pair to match each other), some which were chosen by their stylists and others they bought themselves for themselves (which are all conveniently “forgotten” by those who ship either big ML ship). Though we’ve seen that even with clothes given by their stylists they were still the ones to choose their own accessories, like Namjoon choosing a pair of glasses from a whole box of different ones, or the members choosing rings from two big boxes before going on stage.
Tae himself said, on multiple occasions across multiple years, that Jimin is his best friend, even his one and only best friend, and that he’s the one he likes most which he even proclaimed on national TV. As long as Tae doesn’t say that this has changed in the last, what, two weeks and suddenly JK is officially his new best friend, those who claim otherwise are basically nothing but shippers pushing a narrative that willfully ignores Tae’s own words. Just like they ignore and twist his Weverse comment about how T*ek*okers should get out of their imagination. What doesn’t fit is ignored or adjusted until it does fit.
Lastly, sure enough, Tae really was happy during that vlive but I’m fairly certain (though neither you, them or I will ever know for sure, we’re not in Tae’s head) it had absolutely no connection to T*ek*ok Day, something shippers created and not Tae and JK themselves, seeing as Tae has been in a very good and happy mood for a few months now. Whatever makes him so happy, I truly hope it’ll continue making him happy and I wish shippers (and solo stans) would stop trying to force a reason (which fits them) upon his emotions.
I know it’s easy to get confused by how loud shippers are online, especially as young ARMY (in this case both ARMY who are young age wise but also young in the sense of being new to the fandom), but shipper opinions, in many cases, are just noise, and also noise twisted and skewed a certain way to suit them. If you kept to OT7 spaces on the day of that vlive, no one really paid attention to the ring, most were annoyed by and furious at the shamelessness of the shippers in the comments, and tried to just focus on how fun the vlive was instead.
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I want you; Jungkook
writer: moonlightchildz
date: 10/06/19
summary: since the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew that Jeon Jungkook was going to be the one to take away your virginity.
pairings: jungkook x reader
warnings: SMUT (there’s so much jungkook content), drug usage (weed), alcohol substance, etc.
Word count: 13k
“If you keep staring at him, you’re gonna end up drooling at this point.”
You tentatively raised your index and middle finger up to your lips out of reflex, and as your friend snickered to herself you flipped her off. There was no secret that the guy who had been recently added into your little group of friends had definitely caught your eye. From the moment he was introduced, you were hooked, lined, and had definitely sunk.
“I want you to meet the glue of the group,” you overhead Jimin say to someone. You weren’t sure who he was referring to since you were too busy packing up his shit into his moving boxes. That was supposed to be his job, but he received a phone call and immediately dipped, leaving you to continue all the work by yourself. Typical Park Jimin.
“And there she is in all her glory.”
You turned around, ready to yell at him when the man beside him caught your attention. Your words got caught in your throat at the sight of him cause holy fuck. Who was this beauty in front of you? And why were you just meeting him when you looked as if you had crawled out of Oscar’s trash can from Elmo’s Street?
“I can’t even talk to him, much less go up to him and talk to him about cars because I literally have no clue what a car even is at this rate,” you exaggerated as you threw your hands in the air in frustration. Your best friend just chuckled quietly to herself, her light eyes taking in the boy—no, excuse you—the man who had keenly grasped your attention. He was cute for sure, hot even. Truth be told, you were a hard catch. Guys threw themselves at you left and right, but you were so damn shy to ever respond back to their advances—at least, that’s what your best friend thought.
“So, are you gonna talk to him?”
“Listen, if I ever manage to talk to him, and if the gods from above help me get laid, then I’ll become the filthiest slut you want me to be.”
“You haven’t even had sex yet you talk like a slut.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at you.
“Leave my virgin ass alone.”
“So, you’re not gonna go talk to Jeongguk?” She kept pestering you and you just swatted her hand away to keep her from bothering you.
You sighed in discontent and then slowly shook your head to respond to her question. “No, he literally looks like a Greek god, and just seeing his face makes me drool. Also, whenever he stands so close to me I go into shut down mode and turn mute.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” A new voice spoke up behind the both of you. You felt your heart drop at the sound of the so familiar voice. In fact, you’ve dreamt of it and as you felt mortification quickly engulf your body from head to toe, you dared not to turn around since the pale look your best friend was spotting right now was a dead giveaway to who it was.
You slowly turned around and there he was in all his presence.
If humiliation was a color, you would be covered from head to toe since Jeon Jungkook was standing in front of you. He was watching you lose your shit on the inside and you felt like crawling inside the nearest trash can right about now.
“I’m Jeongguk by the way.” He flashed you an innocent, and a rather beautiful smile that made your cheeks warm up instantly.
“I know,” You awkwardly said, a small smile beginning to linger on your lips. God sure decided to take his time creating this fine ass man. Everything about him screamed untouchable and just drool worthy. Even in just a fitted black t-shirt and ripped jeans, he was absolutely delicious. His forearm was tattooed with Korean characters, and it had a small blue, water colored Smeraldo flower lacing around them so prettily. It was intricate, and it suited his bicep really well.
“All this time, I thought you hated me.” He shook his head in disbelief and what seemed like mere amusement. Your eyes widened at that thought.
“I—What?” you spluttered out in disbelief.
“Yeah, I really thought you didn’t fuck with me since you never really talked to me, or even bothered.”
“Yeah no,” you shook your head. “I’m just really shy.” With guys who have huge dicks, and look like you.
As he ran a hand through his hair, your eyes lingered on the rings that adorned his pretty and veiny hands. A few more artistic tattoos graced his skin, making him look a piece of art himself. How could he ever think that you could ever hate him?
Wow, could you choke me until oblivion with those hands?
“I was waiting for you to at least say hi since everyone adores you, you know? I wanted to see what the hype was and now I understand.” He continued casually and your heart almost gave out on you. “Though I appreciate you calling me, eh, what was it? A Greek god? Thank you, by the way.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled out, mortified at being caught since a cute guy was talking to you. “I’m Y/N by the way.”
“I know.” He smiled, and right then, you wanted to suck his dick. “And why are you sorry? It’s not an often occurrence I have to meet a pretty girl like you, much less be shy about it.”
And in that moment, you knew you were bound to be fucked.
*********
Jungkook stood by the entrance of the living room. He had already downed shots thanks to his new group of friends that had encouraged him to drink them. He was feeling a bit buzzed, and the excitement coursing through his system wasn’t really helping the poor guy.
“C’mon Jeon, as the new member of the group it’s required for you to be initiated.” Taehyung began, getting the rest of the six morons into it now. Jimin began to holler, agreeing with him since of course he would. Jimin would grab the stars for Kim Taehyung if he could.
“Shouldn’t initiation be before I get added into the group?” Jeongguk retorted, his eyes too busy looking for a certain someone. Every time the door would swing open, his eyes landed on whoever entered, but each time he was disappointed since it wasn’t who he was anticipated to see.
“Okay, you have a point,” Taehyung agreed, but there was a smirk already making its way on his lips so he knew this subject wasn’t over yet. “But you’re still the rookie and each member has gone through this so get going.”
He shoved the bottle of Fireball towards him, a shot of glass sliding his way before he could protest. Guess getting shitfaced was part of today’s agenda, too. Jeongguk simply rolled his eyes and allowed Taehyung to pour him a shot since he might as well enjoy the night drunk if the person he was waiting for wasn’t even going to show up as he was promised.
“Chug, chug, chug!”
Jeongguk just laughed as he watched Taehyung pour liquor into Jimin’s eager lips.
He was buzzed by the time you arrived and he hadn’t seen you walk into the kitchen until he turned around with a bottle in one hand and a blunt in the other.
“Jungkook,” you greeted him with a huge, and easy going smile. He almost dropped the blunt and bottle right there. You were showing so much skin to his surprise. His doe eyes struggled in not landing on your ass, your thighs, and hips, but the ripped shorts you were wearing was such a tease move on your part. The shirt barely covered your stomach and your hair seemed so pretty in his eyes.
“Y/N,” he returned, mimicking your smile automatically. “I’m surprised to see you here.” He really was, but he felt giddy now. He felt the after effects of the fireball kick in instantly by just looking at you.
“Oh, well I was dragged out by my dumb friends.” You told him, your hand slowly tucking your strands behind your ear as you looked at everywhere but him. He could tell you were nervous, and he wanted to scream since he wanted to get to know you, to get you to tell him everything about your goals and dreams, and to even hear you animatedly talk about your weird obsession over this kpop group called BT21.
“Ah, I see.”
His eyes lingered on your figure, knuckles turning white from gripping his glass. For fucks sakes, you were too fucking hot, and adorable for your own good.
“Are you gonna drink and smoke that by yourself?” you suddenly asked him, and he immediately shook his head, a sly grin making its way on his handsome face.
“Well, since you’re asking you wanna join me?”
There was a beat of silence followed by his abrupt question and he wanted to cry. You probably didn’t even drink, or much less smoke so he felt stupid in that moment, but you surprised him. With such ease, you just grabbed the blunt from his hand, twirling it around with your index and forefinger so carelessly. With your other hand, you motioned him closer and like a dog in a leash, he was already there, inhaling your addicting scent of flowers, and lavender laundry detergent.
“I say we smoke this later.” Your hot breath fanned his neck, making him swallow thickly at the sensation of having you so damn near him. “But,” you shyly graced your lips against his cheek as you turned to face him instead. “I think we deserve to enjoy this bottle first, no?”
His hand was already in yours, barely managing to nod along since your lips were inches away from his and it was just torture at this rate. He felt his fingers twitch as he softly answered, “Okay.”
It was as if you melted the tough exterior away from him each time he glanced into your eyes. He let you lead him through Seokjin and Namjoon’s mansion without batting an eye. It was crazy how comfortably you were being surrounded by six men, granted they were all gay for each other, but they drove him insane the majority of time. He wondered how you had so much patience overall.
You led him towards the mini patio upstairs.
It felt so ridiculous walking up so many stairs to just get to the designated floor where you, and the rest of the other four morons usually stayed the weekends when Namjoon and Seokjin often threw these grandiose parties. The top two floors were always off limits for everyone, everyone except Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, and you. The top floor was strictly only for Namjoon and Seokjin and that was a rule everyone obeyed simply because no one wanted to deal with Kim Seokjin’s wrath.
“I’m guessing everyone in the group has their own rooms?” Jeongguk prompted, his curious eyes taking every single detail in with awe. “Seokjin and Joon gave me the one across the hall.” He pointed to the door that was down the hall from your room.
“Yeah,” you nervously began, your fingers gripping the door knob to your room. With a short breath, you manage to unlock your room and lead him into your room. “Um, when I got into the group they gave me this room and told me to go crazy with it.”
As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s accurate. All six morons you dearly loved and adored lived here with them and it was amazing how well they all got along, even when they were at each other’s throats. But now it seemed as if this house was going to be filled in by someone special really soon. You glanced over at Jeongguk, and smiled.
One thing you quickly took notice of Jeon Jungkook was that every time you smiled at him, he always responded the same way: his eyes would softly crinkle, nose slightly scrunched up, and that beautiful smile of his always made butterflies in your stomach roam free. The nerves that were overflowing your body soon turned into a buzz, a buzz that you happily welcomed with opened arms.
“Come,” you beckoned him, nails waving him into the balcony. He watched as you carelessly slipped off your shoes and ran a hand through your hair while you occupied yourself into accommodating something that was out of his eyesight.
Jeongguk took in a deep breath, and slowly approached your moving silhouette. There was a love seat placed against the brick wall that faced Namjoon’s backyard and on the other side of the balcony was a hammock with cushions and even a blanket. A sparkling waterfall led into their pool that seemed to be occupied by people there and even though the atmosphere seemed so chaotic, here alone together it felt at peace in that moment. He continued taking in everything that was you, and right there on his left side there along with a mini table that held a tray with two flavored kind of Swishers, was a jar that was filled halfway with weed.
You were literally a god send angel in his eyes.
“Take a seat,” your soft voice levitated his heart.
He easily complied and took a seat, eyes shamelessly landing on that sweet ass of yours while you were facing him away. You carelessly looked down at the mess going on downstairs, a grin already on your pretty face while you securely hugged the bottle to your chest. His doe eyes roamed the shape of your hips, your soft curves, and the pretty expressions you made while taking a swig from the bottle he had earlier. With screwed eyes, you coughed a bit and started walking towards where he was seated at.
“So tell me about yourself,” he began, taking you in again as if hadn’t blatantly stared at your ass this whole entire time. “We’ve known each other for a few weeks now, but I don’t really know much about you besides that you’re everyone’s favorite, and therapist apparently?”
“Yeah, okay,” you screwed your eyes shut as the alcohol slowly went down your throat. “Um, well, where do I begin? Gee, uh, I’m the only daughter of three kids, so I have overprotective brothers up my ass all the time. My parents have been together for more than 23 years, but they’re not married. My favorite color depends on my mood, and I love to eat a lot, like a lot Jeongguk.” You emphasized the last thing so seriously that it made him laugh a little.
He was taking in everything you said, his brain writing down notes since you were finally talking to him.
“Uhh, I love to draw but I can like only draw like stick people,” you continued, eyes bright and your smile endless. “And, I love to listen to music a lot. If I’m not eating, or trying to get my life together, then I’m either smoking, sleeping, or studying. As for the whole therapist thing, well yeah. That’s how we met. We all tended to go to the same therapist, and I would talk to them individually while we waited to be attended. I didn’t realize these six weird dudes were friends because I never saw them together until Jimin, Hobi, and Jinnie decided to simultaneously invite me to a cookout. I spent days trying to compromise with the three of them to see if I could hang out with two of them another day. It was so fucking stressful, but I ended up going with Jin. And imagine the surprise I got when I saw that all of them knew each other and conveniently tried inviting me to the same event. It was so chaotic, Jeonngguk.”
Jeongguk nodded, following along to every word you said and he felt at ease just watching you animatedly talk to him. You had these adorable mannerisms that made him smile like a love sick idiot and he wasn’t even aware of it in the moment. He just felt the need to be closer to you, but he hadn’t come to the conclusion as to how much and why.
“What about you?” You suddenly prompted him, handing him the bottle of liquor back. Your fingers gently graced his as you passed him the bottle and that movement alone made you jittery.
His dark eyes were trained on you as he slowly poured down liquor between his pinkish lips. That movement alone made his bicep bulge beneath the t-shirt he was wearing and you swallowed thickly.
Forgive me father for I will sin.
“I’m the second youngest out of my siblings,” he began roughly, snapping you out of your filthy imagination. “And my parents are married. I have a younger sister who drives me fucking nuts and we just moved here a month ago actually, so I really don’t know how I lucked out when meeting you and everyone else.”
You raised an eyebrow at that, “Really? You moved here a month ago and look at you know. Crashing in Namjoon and Seokjin’s mansion in less than a few weeks of meeting them.”
“Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are.”
“Not really,” you shook your head, eyeing him from head to toe quite shamelessly. By now the alcohol had gotten to your head and you seemed at ease with him. You were propped up against the palm of your hand as you practically talked without thinking now. “I can see why they love you, Jeongguk. You’re a sweetheart that everyone adores.”
His knee was pressed up against your thigh, hand inches away from yours. “Is that so?” He hummed out, an appreciative tone underlying in his voice.
“Yeah,” you reassured wholeheartedly without even hesitating. “You’ve become such an important part of the group in just a couple of weeks and that’s saying something. The guys are so picky and overprotective of each other, and you just fit in so well. It feels as if the group is complete now with you in it. Everyone from Jimin, to Tae, to Jin, to Namjoon, to Yoongi, and to Hobi has a special place, and you Jeon just happened to be the last puzzle piece to the set.”
“I can see why they love you,” he smiled fondly and your heart lurched against your chest. He was so beautiful. “You’re the glue of this big family.”
In return, you just smiled wider, carelessly even, but to Jeongguk seeing that smile meant everything.
There was a blur in time. Fingers softly and delicately traced skin, laughter echoed in the dim moonlight, and secrets were being whispered out in the open air. There was a point where you were leaning against him, his arm dangling around your shoulders as you laughed along to a story he was telling you about him and how he found Yoongi hiding in Hoseok’s closet after hanging out with him for hours. It felt so brief, so calming, and so natural. It was effortless.
“Can I ask you a weird question?”
You glanced up at him, and he seemed to be closer than you had imagine since his lips were just a few inches away from yours.
“Yeah,” you quietly said, finding it hard to concentrate. There was an urge inside of you to just lean in and close the gap, but something was holding you back. Was it maybe that he was more experienced than you in every way? For fuck’s sakes, you were a virgin without any clue of how flirting, or a relationship worked. You faltered, and he noticed.
“Wanna dance?” He opted out with upon seeing your reluctance.
“I don’t know how to,” you admitted to him, giggling in the end. Yep, you were definitely still a little buzzed, but it wasn’t due to the alcohol anymore. You could hardly maintain eye contact with him and here you were touching his biceps, and dragging your silver nails down his stomach so carelessly, unaware of the effect you had on him. Jeongguk had gotten under your skin so quickly, it left you so surprised and so affected by him. You knew that by the end of tonight, his name, his eyes, his endearing smile, and the will to ride the living fuck out of him was going to haunt you until you saw him again.
“I’ll teach you.”
He wasn’t pulling away yet and truth be told you didn’t want him to. Your smile was there as usual as you nodded and your fingers were already wrapping around the shot of vodka to down in your system. You were ready to down it all, but halfway through Jeongguk ripped away the shot of glass, letting some liquor spill on your lips.
With widened eyes, you glanced up at him in time to see him finish the rest of the contents inside.
“There’s some um,” he quietly began, nearing you again. “You have some vodka on your lips.” There’s a moment of hesitation between the two of you as his fingers gently trace your bottom lip where the strong liquid was dripping down to your chin.
With his thumb, he softly wiped away the liquor. His thumb ever so slowly brushed over your bottom lip, his dark eyes seeming lost as you stood still, barely managing to breathe properly.
His touch rendered you speechless since it was so brief, and gentle. Butterflies were practically roaming free, fluttering your heart awake at the simple, lingering effect of his touch.
“I expected you to swoon in and kiss me,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking. The funny thing was that you didn’t feel embarrassment, or any nerve wrecking feeling like you normally did when around him since by now you were sure that motherfucker had something for you as well.
His eyes widened at your bluntness and you watched in amusement how his mouth repeatedly opened and closed like a fish without water. He sat up suddenly, beginning to lean in, almost closing the gap between you both, but you slowly pulled away from him, your fingers gently cupping his chin to detain him. A teasing smile edged on your lips, toying with him now before you got up from the couch, leaving him empty handed. You heard a loud, heavy sigh emit from behind you and you turned around to see him already standing, hair lightly blowing with the breeze.
“Come dance with me,” you extended your hand out to him, fingers continuously wiggling out for him. “I love this song.” You pouted as he just stood there with his pretty bunny smile and overall prince charming self. Jeongguk however seemed to be caught in a dilemma with himself. He didn’t know whether to follow your games, or to just stop them right there with one simple solution. He knew he could be getting head without even moving a finger from other bitches, but as you neared him, hands automatically wandering up his arms, those thoughts were instantly wiped away. There was a reason everyone gravitated towards you. With just a smile, you made his heart begin to bloom for the first time in a really long ass time.
His scent engulfed you completely as you glanced up at him, probably looking at him as if you want to ride him until morning arrives, and then let him destroy you until he no longer wants to. Fuck. You wanted to be embraced by his warmth, feel his lips against your skin, and you were craving for it so much. Being near him was becoming intolerable, and it wasn’t necessarily because you wanted to run away from him, no, quite the opposite actually. As each second, minute, hour passed by alongside with him you discovered just how badly you wanted him all.
His hands wondered down your sides immediately, pulling you flush against his body without even thinking. A small yelp emitted from your lips at the sudden pull and turn of your body. Jeongguk felt his heart leap from his ass as soon as you accommodated yourself, your back pressed fully against his chest as you moved your hips so sensually it was torturing him so much. He hadn’t known you would get so touchy, much less bold. It didn’t help that he was itching to just bend you over his couch and just fuck you until the only thing you could remember was his name.
He seemed thrown off when you rested your head against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck as you continued to sing along to the song that was playing in the background. You looked at ease, relaxed even. Is this how you were behind closed doors? An enigma? He hadn’t expect to feel this way. It was becoming too much now. He felt his dick harden underneath you, and you just kept on grinding your ass on him, a teasing grin on your lips.
“Fuck,” he cursed out, biting back the need to just do something to you at this point.
“What is it?” you turned around to face him, arms still wrapped around his neck. You were humming along to a pop song, pushing yourself against him even more. Your fingers were delicately running on his broad shoulders, your other hand twirling his damp hair.
“You really don’t know?”
You sluggishly shook your head, whispering, “Don’t know what?”
You were too drunk, you’d probably wouldn’t remember if he did say anything anyway. “Nothing,” he decided instead. “I’ll let you figure that out on your own when you’re sober.”
“I could go for a smoke right now,” you suddenly said ignoring what he just said. With a slender finger, you picked at the blunt that was sitting right beside his ear. “Join me?”
He would do anything for you at this point. You placed the blunt between your lips, handing him the lighter. “Light it baby,” you instructed and he was so taken back by you. You were this shy little thing at first sight, but alone with him you were anything but that.
He slowly wavered the lighter side to side, eyes slowly taking you in. Your eyes were closed as you inhaled as much as you could. Smoke emitted from your lips as you fluttered your eyes open and there he was, inches away from you, just looking at you in what seemed wonderment. Jeongguk tried not to near you, tried not be lured into your schemes as he was warned by others, but you were his temptation. A temptation that was rendering him to his knees and it was all because of a woman. He hadn’t know he had unconsciously neared you until he felt the smoke blow right at him.
Seconds. He was seconds away from ripping away the blunt from you, and just kissing you right there and then, but he opted out to grabbing the blunt from your lips instead. He figured if you were going to toy with him, he’ll make you wait.
“So when did you start to sm—”
“Guk?”
He halted, smoke emitting from his lips as he turned towards you. Did you just called him Guk?
Slowly, he neared you, eyes darker than before. His forehead bumped against yours, smoke engulfing the both of you.
“Say it again,” he roughly demanded, his other hand firmly grabbing your chin. “Say it.”
You didn’t. No, instead you pressed your mouth against his and it was so much fucking better. He dropped the blunt to cradle the side of your face, his lips molding against yours softly. You were already swinging a leg over his thighs, getting settled on his lap. Your arms already wrapping around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his lower lip, and he moaned out at the feeling. Your fingers quickly tugged at his hair, body falling backwards since you knew he would wrap his arms around you and follow your movements, and that’s exactly what he did. His strong arms bulged underneath you, and you were so drunk for his kisses. You felt euphoric, a humming sensation was taking over you, and it was him who was the cause of all of it.
“More,” you panted out against his lips, tugging harder. He was everywhere. His hands, his lips, his soft moans echoing in your heightened sensations.
“You’re drunk.” He hotly murmured out against your swollen lips. “You’re kissing me because you’re drunk as fuck right now.”
Upon hearing that, you ripped yourself away from him, confused since you were anything but oblivious whenever it came to him for fuck’s sakes. “No,” you firmly began, inching closer to him again. Your fingers gripped on to his shirt, curling in it as you bumped foreheads with him, eyes fervently taking him in. “I’m kissing you because I want you, you fucking idiot.”
Jeongguk simply grinned.
His hand wandered up your bare side, nails digging into your skin. “Really?” He seemed in utter trance, doe eyes taking every single little pretty feature of yours in.
“Yes, you fucker,” you finally told him, eyes meeting his firmly. “Like a lot, to the point where I turn mute, but one thing for sure is that I want you, a lot.”
Okay, he decided, this was it for him. His hands were already pulling you towards him, mouth fervently on yours before he could let you continue speaking. Your hands were tugging at his hair, lips sucking swiftly his tongue as these little whining pants came out from you against his swollen mouth, bodies becoming increasingly hotter.
“If you continue doing that, I’m going to fuck you right here, y/n.”
Well, please say less.
“But our first time together is not gonna be with me and you crossfaded,” he stubbornly refused, and you childishly pouted. You both sat there on the old couch, his arms still wrapped around you as you shamelessly leaned your forehead against his shoulder.
“Can I at least take off your shirt?” you tried to resonate with him, a tiny grin lacing your lips.
He laughed against your mouth.
*********
The next day, you woke up with a smile slapped all over your face. The covers were all wrapped around your clothed body, hair matted and surprisingly your breath didn’t reek of death like you anticipated. It was late once you decided to crawl out of bed, but the rest of the household was still sound asleep since it was only ten in the morning. A smile lingered on your face once you walked out of your room and spotted Jeongguk’s room which was the one across from you. It was nerve wrecking to say that least. To have the Jeon Jungkook—the nationwide guy who was an incredibly, talented, and artistic tattooist— that everyone seemed to be thirsting had made you reassure him that you were into him last night.
His touch was magical in your enchanted heart. Seriously, one touch and you had been a goner. In your dreams, he was there, welcoming in you in his arms. Truth be told you wanted to be engulfed in his embrace, listen to him talk endlessly about his recent works, and feel his mouth on your skin. It was crazy really. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him, he had always been haunting you. And last night you had kissed him first, you had felt his hands roam your body, and you were giggling like crazy as he did so.
You had just changed into your spare clothes after a long, hot bath when you heard knocking on your door.
“Jiminie if it’s you, just barge in like you always do,” you called out from the patio, finding the cool October air refreshing against your skin. It was nearing towards five in the afternoon now, you figured the guys were already awake, but nervousness was a bitch. You hadn’t heard from Jeongguk and it was eating you alive. What if he realized he didn’t want the same as you? What if he realized what he wanted wasn’t you? You didn’t want to face reality yet so you just remained in your room, trying to find the will to go back to your home.
“It’s me.”
Those two words stunned you. It was him. Panic flared throughout your body as you realized what was bound to happen. You practically flew yourself all the way across the room you flung the door open because hell, might as well get this shit going.
“Did you mean it?” Was the first thing he blurted out of his mouth. He was leaning against your door frame, hair tousled and covering his eyes. The moment you saw him you could see his heart on his sleeve.
“Yes,” you quietly confessed to him, afraid to glance at him so you kept your gaze on everything but him. Jeongguk however didn’t find that reassuring. He caught you off guard with just two simple steps that he took closer to you. He was backing you into your room.
“I want you,” he softly professed to you, his voice firm.
“Okay,” you stood up straighter now since he was leaning closer to you now. Oh God. It’s really happening.
“So is it okay if I—” his hands were gentle as they framed your face carefully. There was a moment of hesitation that flickered in his heart, but as you glanced up at him with those eyes, with those eyes filled with anticipation and giddiness, he instantly just knew.
But you were already pulling him into the room, mouth on his as you breathed out, “Yeah.”
“Okay, good.” He kicked the door shut, hands still cradling your face while soft giggles emitted from your lips. He carefully neared you back to your barely made bed, ankles hitting the soft covers before you were thrown back against the heavenly cloud material.
Jeongguk was already there, hands roaming your body as he dipped down, his body resting against yours. “I was so nervous to come in here.” He admitted to you, and your eyes widened in bemusement. You were sure he could hear your heart beating erratically just by having him so close to you.
“Guk,” you began and he groaned out in pain. Panic began to creep up on you as you suddenly began to sit up, worried that you might have said something to piss him off already. “Guk, I—”
His mouth was on yours, distracting you completely. Every thought that seemed to be racing in your head flew out of your mind suddenly, your soaring heart completely taking over your senses now. He was kissing you like a deprived man, mouth messily missing yours before soaking your skin with his trailing, hot kisses that he left behind instead. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest at the sensations he was leaving in his wake. His fingers were tangled in your hair, keeping you angled to his will as his breath ghosted over your skin. Goosebumps arose along the way, and your mouth was slightly ajar, your mind blown away by this man’s touch. He clung on to you, lips marking every inch of your skin to his delight. And you relished on his touch since it was heavenly in your eyes, and heart.
“Guk,” a soft moan escaped your lips as his lips brushed your pulse, his dark gaze watching you completely surrender to him. You were at his mercy and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“I have to stop before—” he was breathing heavily, his hands tightening around you. He bumped foreheads with you, his lips barely brushing yours, but it was enough to dizzy your heart.
“Okay,” you slowly nodded, still in trance. He was beginning to pull away and that woke you up so quickly. “But first, I—”
You winded your arms around his neck, pulling down towards you again as you kissed him again. There was a split second where you gasped and his tongue was already tracing the underside of your bottom lip, slowly sucking your swollen lip as his fingers dug on to your skin. Your shirt rose halfway, the skimpy shorts that you were wearing were no help whatsoever to him since his hands were finding your skin, bruising you. His fingers fisted your clothing as these little whimpers began to fill your room and Jeongguk knew he was bound to lose control once you spread your legs wider for him.
There was no hesitation as he flipped you over on top of him now. A surprised gasp emitted from your lips as Jeongguk helped you spread your thighs for him. He had sat up now and had his back pressed against your headboard.
“Put your arms around me, y/n.”
Your eyes met his as your hands slowly wandered up his strong arms, appreciating his figure as you scooted closer to his body. Your chest was pressed against his and you were so incredibly close to him. Noses brushed each other’s, and you were about to close the gap since his swollen lips seemed lonely, but he detained you with three simple words.
“I want you,” he breathed out against your mouth and you nodded, eagerly agreeing with him. “But I want to take you out first.” His fingers were tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear, his fervent gaze managing to make these butterflies roam in your fluorescent heart.
Jeon Jungkook was utterly, and immensely beautiful.
“That sounds much better,” you agreed, smiling ear to ear now. He wanted to take you out on a date!
“The guys are up and they want to see us so we could go out to eat. That was the whole excuse to get me to you and now I don’t want to leave.”
You bumped your forehead with his, laughing softly at his confession. Fuck. He was the one.
*********
“We’re gonna go to this underground concert…”
You muted them out and just sighed. Jeongguk was busy at work and you were stuck with the six other idiots who acted as more like your brothers than your best friends.
“Hey, look who it is! My favorite person out of the group.” Jimin chirpily announced, eyes turning into slits when you all blatantly ignored him. Taehyung was working night shift so therefore his boyfriend was pissy since he wasn’t getting any attention, or affection.
“Kookie!”
At that, you whipped your head towards the front and spotted him walking in. Instantly, you lowered your legs from Hoseok’s lap and unconsciously began to run your fingers through your hair, trying to somewhat tame it before Jeongguk pranced in here looking like a piece of art himself. Yoongi glanced over at you, eyes squinting while you hastily tried to fix your appearance out of the blue.
And in all his glory, he strode into the living room where everyone was sprawled across the lush, plushy carpet. A red and black checkered flannel molded all over his body, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms where a couple of bracelets adorned his tatted sleeve. He was sucking on a lollipop, lips all red from the candy. His damp hair was pushed back with a black bandana, and he just absolutely screamed sex, power, fuck me please, and everything in between.
“Jungkookie, I’m so glad you’re here since I fucking can’t stand them anymore—”
You were busying yourself in sitting on the lonely couch, trying to dissimulate that you were waiting for his dumbass to already show up. When in reality, you couldn’t wait to be wrapped in his arms, to be peppered with kisses, and to feel his hands roam all over your body as soft pants emitted from his lips. So you did what anybody else did, you ignored his presence no matter how hard it was.
But Jeongguk definitely surprised you once you saw he was walking directly towards you. Your bitch face soon molded into that smile you always gave to him since he leaned forward against the couch, trapping you in as his lips tentatively met yours. When he felt you kissing him back, he felt relieve wash over him.
“Yeah, well I don’t think he considers you as his Jiminie,” Hoseok teased him, eyeing the both of you.
“You should have seen them last night,” Jin snorted. “He was practically sticking his tongue down her throat while they were making breakfast.”
To piss them off even more, you winded your arms around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his bottom lip while he flipped you over the couch. A yelp escaped your lips, but nonetheless you settled between his legs, giggling away into his mouth while the others began to throw cushions at the both of you.
“Heteros,” Namjoon muttered out while shaking his head.
*********
“You have no idea just how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Jeongguk mumbled it out against the crook of your neck. His head was placed against your chest, his fingers absentmindedly playing with strands of your hair. Both of you laid on your bed, there was a food stand next to the both of you with finished eaten meals that were prepared by the both of you. Music played softly in the background and Jeongguk surprised you by singing along to one of your favorite songs “Stand Still” by Sabrina Claudio.
“Long week at work?”
“Something like that.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
He shook his head, “No, I’m honestly okay now.”
“If you need to vent, then I’ll be here to listen, okay?” you tried reminding him since you hated seeing him down. It emotionally pained you seeing Jeongguk hurt, physically, or emotionally.
“There’s times where I wish we could just stay like this forever,” he absentmindedly told you, his eyes fluttering to a deep slumber.
“I’m sure we can,” you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his familiar scent of soft, laundry detergent, and love. “We can stay here as long as we can until you feel much better.”
But sadly the reality is that we have to go back to the real world at some point.
But as long as I have you in both worlds, I’ll be the happiest person on this planet.
*********
“Okay, but don’t be an idiot and actually don’t go through with it,” you told him, hand intertwined with his. “If you don’t, then you could seriously be missing out on a once in a lifetime thing!”
There was a convention that he was specifically invited as the guest of honor, but it was across the world. He would be leaving in a couple of days and you couldn’t lie to yourself and feel this pang in your heart. He would be leaving soon and wouldn’t return until a month later. A whole month without Jeon Jungkook.
He was quiet, doe eyes adoringly glancing over at you. “What would I do without you?’
“Hm, probably cry yourself to sleep to the thought of not having someone as perfect as me.”
“No wonder Jin loves you so much,” Jeongguk was already rolling his eyes before you even voiced out your sentence. During the past few months, the shy little thing he adored was replaced with a shithead who tended to either render him speechless with how much bullshit you managed to spew out, or how sweet and loving to death you would be with him. It was never the both with you. It was always one or the other.
“They warned me about you, you know?” He suddenly told you, catching you completely off guard. You came to a stop as you curiously awaited for him to continue. “They said I should keep away from you. That you weren’t going to be another “toy” of mine, and they were right. You’re so much more.”
“Guk,” you began, beginning to get teary eyed. This conversation should not be held in public, and much less after finding out that he was going to be leaving soon. He shook his head, his bunny smile beginning to appear now. He was already tugging you closer to him, hands framing your face gently.
“You mean so much to me, you know?” He confessed to you, and you were already nearing him. You were ready to tell him these three little words because you always acted on impulse whenever you were around him. Your heart always rationalized for you whenever it just came to him.
“And I don’t want you to lose interest when I leav—”
A scoff ripped out of your chest, immediately halting him halfway. There was no way in hell you would ever lose interest. For fuck’s sakes you had been practically in love with this dude ever since the first time he kissed you that night on your balcony.
“Jeongguk, don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You fumed out, actually pissed at him for deliberately thinking that. You stepped away from his hold. It was known that you two weren’t exactly exclusive, but there was no other man that could ever take a hold of your heart like Jeongguk had. His name had been imprinted in your heart and you were so fucked upon realizing this.
“I want you to know that while I’m away, I don’t want to—” he swallowed thickly, his hand reaching out towards you again. “I don’t want to see you with anyone else.” He practically gritted it out, momentarily looking away from you.
“Why would I ever do that?” you softly questioned him, honestly perplexed. Did he not see how utterly happy he made you? Was it not so fucking obvious?
“We’re not technically together, but I—”
Say it. You yearned to hear him say it. Unconsciously, you had neared him. You hadn’t realized you were just a few feet away, but there was this need for you to be close to him.
“I want to be with you. I’ve been wanting to be with you since the moment the guys introduced me to you, and you’re angry at me now, and I don’t know why, but y/n…I don’t want to leave this goddamn country without calling you mine.”
There it is.
Finally.
“Just fucking ask me, and I will be all yours.” You angrily blurted out without meaning to, but fuck dude. You would give this man the world if you could, just like you knew he would for you.
He seemed genuinely in shock. His doe eyes widened, mouth slightly agape before stammering out, “A-Are you serious right now?”
An exasperated sigh escaped your lips.
He was rambling now. “If I ask you right now to be my girlfriend, then will you—”
You were lunging at him, hands cupping his face as you shut him up with your mouth instead. This kiss was different. It was bruising, teeth clashed against each other, and Jeongguk had his arms winding around your waist as your legs began to wrap over his hips. There was cat calling from behind you, and you practically ripped yourself away from him.
“Okay, we’re in public,” you laughed against his mouth, slowly pulling away from him to continue what you were going to say. “But yes you idiot, I’ll be more than fucking happy to be your girlfriend. God damn it, it took you forever.”
“It’s been so fucking hard to keep my hands to myself, and at first I was okay, but now that you’re officially my girlfriend I’m dying to touch you.” He rasped out, his touch beginning to dizzy you once again. “I’ve been finding it so fucking hard…but then you look at me like that.”
You tilted your head, mouth slightly parting as you feigned innocence. “Like what?”
Except Jeongguk was always good in reading people and he already knew your true colors. Behind that little façade of innocence, there was something darker, and albeit sexy even. All he needed was to unleash it now. “Like you want to fuck the living brains out of me.” He was blunt and straightforward and you certainly didn’t mind it.
To his surprise though, you flushed. Your cheeks had begun to bloom in a rosy endearing pink, and it was quite cute honestly. “I guess I can’t quite mask my feelings, eh?” you rhetorically wondered out loud, a small smile laced on your pinkish lips.
The both of you walked into the alleyway of his apartment complex. There were a couple of steps before you actually reached his building, but by now you both stood in silence just looking at each other. You felt yourself growing shyer and a little bit vulnerable. In your defense though, who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend just told you he wanted you, and has been dying to touch you for as long as you had.
“If I kissed you right now,” he lowly began, slowly stepping towards you. You immediately whipped your head to the side to face him, looking surprised as ever. “Would you stop me?” He lowly asked you, eyes dark as ever.
God, was that even a question? Obviously not.
You allowed yourself to rest your back against the wall, head tilted slightly against it as you watched him slowly approach you. You hadn��t said a word, but the way your eyes took him in from head to toe, he had already gotten his answer.
His fingers tentatively graced your arms, finding it quite hard to advance when you were just watching him so expectantly. It felt as if you had already done this with many others and were used to being worshipped. You seemed almost unaffected, but as his fingers began to travel up your shoulders, dipping into the little crook of your shirt where your collarbones were located at, he saw a glimmer of anticipation come from you. Your eyes were fervently watching his movements and he seemed genuinely afraid to continue.
“Jungkook,” your voice sounded so sweet, so innocent. It practically made his cock twitch with anticipation. You seemed so innocent, so beautiful, and so dangerous. “Just fucking kiss me already you wimp.”
He pressed himself against you without hesitation. One of his hands gently traced his fingertips on your skin as he removed part of your hair back to grab you by the nape of your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, reeling him in as his other hand grabbed a hold of your hip. With one simple glance between the two of you, he pushed you further up against the wall as his lips met yours. His tongue was already slipping past your lips, tasting the lemon flavored lollipop from your mouth.
Tongues lashed out as you eagerly tried to take as much as you could since who knew what would happen next. He moaned against your mouth, slightly panting. You came to figure out that he was definitely an ass man. His hands had wondered down your ass, kneading it roughly as he pressed his bulge against your cunt.
He was messy too.
His lips sucked on your tongue, hands grabbing and pulling you closer to him so he could grind against you. At this point his hand gripped your thigh and hitched it over his hip, his lips beginning to wonder down the crook of your neck. He was leaving hot, wet open mouth kisses, his teeth softly grazing your skin, and it was driving you insane.
“Jeongguk,” you softly moaned out his name, and he was not having it. He wanted more than just a moan. He wanted you quivering underneath him, back arching as he fucked you until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He was becoming insatiable whenever it came down to you and he was deeply terrified in that moment. He could have any other person giving him head for free without him having to do anything, but he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted you on your knees with your pretty mouth sucking him off. If it wasn’t you at this point, he didn’t want it. And that’s when he realized how utterly fucked he was.
Your hands were already unbuckling his belt before he could utter a word out.
Fuck, you were ready to give this man everything.
“What are y—”
“You’re gonna have to be quiet, baby.”
You kissed him one last time before you sank down on your knees, hands gripping his cock gently. You were practically salivating at just looking at his cock. It was thick and long and everything you ever wanted. Jungkook bit down on his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from blowing right there when you hadn’t even put his dick in your mouth yet. In his defense, you were a really hot girl and he was clueless at this as you were. He hadn’t met a woman who could render him so easily without even trying.
He was already hard and leaking as you slowly began to pump him, eyes set and determined to give him the best head of his life.
“How about I give you a little taste of what could come if you’re sweet to me.”
Your lips were wrapping around the tip before he could answer, slowly sucking the tip of his cock in first. He bit down on his lip, teeth grinding against each other as you proceeded to take more of him in your mouth. Your tongue ran down his leaking cock, savoring his salty taste in your mouth, and you moaned out softly.
“Oh fuck,” he whimpered out, hands fisting beside his thick thighs. His knuckles were turning so white and a little bit of blood trickled down his palm as these whiny, and whimpering moans slipped from your lips. You were enjoying this, and he wanted nothing then to just cum right there in your tight mouth. You slowly bobbed your head up and down, swirling and sucking the living soul out of him in the process.
“R-Right there,” he panted out, eyes screwed shut. He refrained himself from moving, but you were being so good to him it was fucking hard for him to not do anything.
You released him to suck your fingers into your mouth, trying to make them as slick as your underwear was right now. “Use me, baby. Do whatever you wanna do to me.”
His fingers tangled into your hair, his hips stuttering to a slight stop as you gagged around his cock, spit beginning to travel down your chin.
“M-More,” he cried out, spluttering over his sentences. “Ohgod, hmfuck, I.”
He came all over your mouth, and like the angel you were to him, you swallowed it all.
“Holy fuck,” he heaved out, his cheeks rosy and his golden skin layered with perspiration. He looked absolutely ravishing. Right there all you wanted was to be fucked properly. It didn’t matter where at this rate, all you wanted, no, needed was him. His fingers were still tangled in your hair as he tried to regain his breath.
“Where have you been all my life?”
“I could say the same thing,” you easily countered back, your heels digging into the pavement by now. Your knees were scraped up at this point and you felt sweat beginning to gather up since it was so fucking hot, but it was so worth it. He released you and helped you get up.
“Grab your things,” he suddenly told you, and when he realized you weren’t budging he added, “Can you please grab your things so I can fuck you already?”
“Well, when you put it so nicely,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at your cuteness.
The both of you stumbled into his apartment. Shoes were flung across the floor and your greedy hands were already placed at the bottom of his shirt, urging him to take the thing off so you could see him in his full glory. His shirt and shoes were gone as you latched on him, not giving him the proper chance to breathe since you wouldn’t stop kissing him, you were so addicted.
“Fuck, baby, wait. Are you sure?” He seemed nervous now and you found him more adorable now. He was so intimidating from afar, but now that you knew how much of a softy he was you smiled. Months before you couldn’t even utter out a word, but now all you wanted was for him to ruin you completely. You heard the stories, the fantasies, and his ego was there for a reason so he definitely knew what he was capable of. It reminded you of the first time you had dropped the bomb shell on him that you were still indeed in fact a virgin. He was in the middle of searching for a goddam condom.
“Oh, and before you fuck me you should know I’m a virgin.” You casually blurted it out and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his hand stuck inside his pocket as his eyes landed on you in shock.
“W-What?” He stammered out, clearly taken back by your sudden outburst. “Shouldn’t you want someone who you love to—I don’t know, fuck you like they love you? Isn’t that what every girl wants? Or hopes for at least?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “If I wanted to wait for a prince charming then I would die a virgin, Jungkook.”
“I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” he admitted to you and at this you cocked an eyebrow. Now that was certainly news you didn’t expect to come from him. You were sure he had de-virginized at least one person in his lifetime, if you could call it that at least.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
No, you didn’t end up fucking. Which brings you back to now.
“I wouldn’t be standing in your apartment if I didn’t want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”
His eyes widened at your words, but yet again you always seemed full of surprises.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He softly began, nearing you again. His hands engulfed your face, foreheads pressed together as he tried to gather his thoughts. His hands twitched to just touch you intimately, but now that he knew that you were practically untouched, he wanted to completely ruin you. He wanted to fuck you so good you’d never forget him, or his touch, or much less how he would have you quivering after blowing your back out.
“If you don’t want to, then that’s totally okay dude. I completely understand.” You tried to reassure him and you watched how his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, his eyes burning. He didn’t say anything, but soon enough his mouth was on yours and his hands were already sliding down your sides, squeezing and bruising your skin just how he learned you loved it.
“Y/N, I want you so bad.” Jungkook breathed out against your mouth, and you could see the inner turmoil going on in his eyes. “Fuck it.” He finally decided, his lips back on yours again. You were already wrapping your arms around his neck when he sent you stumbling backwards on to his couch.
“Bed?” He asked you, his fingers unbuckling his belt now. You swallowed thickly, insides going haywire since this was it, you were finally going to fulfill your promise. You were about to lose your virginity and it was with someone you knew you wanted, and even loved.
“Couch,” you decided, eyeing the comfortable sofa. You figured it shouldn’t be so formal with him so the couch it was.
He grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you towards him. “I’ll be gentle, okay?” He promised you and you just felt your heart sigh in contentment for you.
He lowered you on to his couch, making sure you were placed comfortable on the pillow all while asking, “Are you okay? Is it too stiff? Are you sure you don’t want to wait? Do you want my bed instead? I promise it feels like a cloud.”
“No,” you answered to all of them.
“Okay then,” he cleared his throat. Then he changed, pupils dilating. “I’m going to make you cum until you can’t anymore.” That one shook you to the core.
A shaky breath left your lips upon hearing him say that, especially while looking like that. With his hair covering his eyes, lips swollen, and an aura of confidence.
“Oh baby,” he tsk to himself, a smirk beginning to lace his lips. “You’re gonna be in for a treat tonight.”
“Strip.” He simply told you, and you were so eager to obey him. Your hands immediately went for your top and soon enough you were flinging it somewhere, but before you unclipped your bra you suddenly halted.
“Lights on or off?” He asked, his backside facing you now. He was approaching the light switch, but drool was literally coming out of your lips as you watched in fascination how his muscles contracted with each movement he made.
“The real question is: can you fuck me with the lights off? Can I really trust you enough to not stick it inside the wrong hole?” You skeptically asked him and instead of seeming offended he just laughed. The lights turned off and you took in a deep breath as you unclipped your bra.
He stayed with his jeans on. They dipped lowly enough could see where his happy trail led on and the prominent v line that followed and hid inside his jeans. He looked incredible shirtless, and the tattoos that graced his skin did his beauty more justice. Every time you got the privilege to see Jeongguk naked was indeed welcome. His body was a temple that you would gladly worship until he allowed you.
“Oh fuck.” He inhaled sharply at the sight of you. You were only wearing underwear, and it wasn’t even lacy. It was cotton, but Jungkook noticed how fucking damp it was already. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
You shamelessly spread your legs wider for him. With Jeongguk, everything felt at ease, and as he approached you, you felt so safe with him. You came to trust this man so much that by now he had become second skin to you. Jeon Jungkook, the guy who came in and swept you off your feet in just a couple of months was about to rid of your purity. Excitement over came you as he began to crawl over your body, warm skin colliding with yours.
“You…” he dipped his body forward, bringing you down to the couch along with him. A playful smile curved his lips, his eyes on yours as he inched closer now. “drive me so fucking insane.”
The only lightning illuminating his apartment was the wall to wall window and you were both facing it since the couch was directly across from it, getting the view of the dark city below you. You were already wrapping your legs around him, trying to press him closer to you.
“I need you to spread your legs for me okay?”
Done. You easily complied to your boyfriend’s demands.
“You’re going to taste so sweet,” he rasped out against your skin, his hot breath fanning your sensitive skin. His long, wavy hair tickled your thighs as he tentatively dipped down, lips close to where you desperately needed him. He could hear your breathing pick up from that simple movement, but he was already half hard and he wasn’t going to hold back now. He’ll make sure you’ll come running back to his tongue, fingers, and soon his dick.
“Bon appetite,” he groaned out in pleasure, tongue swirling around your clit.
With the way you were laying down, with his hands running down your bare thighs, with his head between your legs, it was a sight to see. He tentatively ran his tongue down your slit, savoring your taste as he moaned in between your legs. His hand kneaded your ass before he brought you closer to his mouth, lapping all of your juices in that sinful tongue of his in one get go. Heat rushed straight to your cunt and all you could do was cry out softly at the new sensation.
“Remember, you can let go here, baby. Scream all you want.”
And then he dipped his tongue inside your tight hole, sucking and slurping like you did just an hour ago. Your hands instantly went down to his hair, feet digging into the couch as he pumped a long and slender finger. He was slowly easing it in, coating his fingers with your juices to spread it all over your cunt before he added another finger.
“Oh god,” you jerked suddenly, his fingers curling slightly. You were too lost in your senses that you hadn’t noticed he was watching you. His dark eyes took everything that was you in. How you drove your fingers into your own hair, matting it up as your feet became restless against the couch. The little cries that you made each time he forced his skilled fingers up to where your eyes rolled against the back of your head.
“S-Stop,” you were shoving him away and he immediately halted, lips pink and swollen. His chin was covered with your slick and you just shook your head in bewilderment.
“I want to feel you,” you panted out. “I’m on the pill.”
With urgency laced on your fingers, you brought him back up, mouth desperately trying to find his. And he of course followed you into your arms without hesitation. A sort of a whisper escaped his lips, breathing it out against your mouth, “You’re literally my angel sent from above.”
“Ditto, Guk.”
“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He softly whispered it out against your mouth, and you couldn’t help it, you smiled widely despite your heart racing. His fingers softly caressed your side, they were roaming your body so delicately, as if afraid to bruise you unintentionally. His rings graced your skin as he gripped your thigh, slowly hitching it over his hip.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll immediately stop,” he began and you nodded, the butterflies beginning to flutter all over you. “Look at me.”
Your eyes glanced up to his, and he was there, mouth on yours already. Your hands instantly cupped his face, breathing heavy as he momentarily stopped to push himself into you. His tongue was caressing your bottom lip, sucking and moaning to your delight. A quiet gasp escaped your mouth as he slid inside you. There was a pause between the both of you. Jeongguk slightly pulled away from your lips, his eyes taking in your reactions with such worriedness.
“You okay there?” He whispered out, and you began to nod repeatedly. Your fingers were threading into his hair instead, keeping him close to you. Your breathing was soft, and erratic against his mouth.
“Yeah,” you breathlessly managed out, trying to reassure him. “I’m okay, I promise.”
“Okay, I’m going to,” he gritted out, his mind focusing on not trying to blow when he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet. He slowly bottomed down and rather carefully began to stretch you out. A soft whimper escaped your swollen lips, but you were taking him in so well.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praised you, lips on yours. “So, so good.”
Your fingers were digging into his arms, eyes fluttering to a close.
“You feel so good,” he grunted out, refraining himself from moving. His arms framed your face, hot pants hitting your lips softly.
“Thanks?” You stupidly blurted out without thinking and as you closed your eyes to hide from your sheer embarrassment, Jeongguk just looked at you amusingly. You could feel his body shake as he quietly laughed to himself.
“Tell me when to move,” he softly reminded you. “tell me what you want because I’m all yours.”
You took in a deep breath. “You can move, slowly please.”
He hitched your leg over his hip before he slowly slid out and gently thrusted back inside. Your hands were tightly gripping his biceps, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the discomfort at first but then Jungkook’s mouth was on your nipple, his tongue sucking and licking to his liking. His hands were gripping the sides of the pillow you were on top of, teeth grinding against each other as he struggled to hold back. You were too tight, too warm, and his veins protruded, arms bulging.
“Can I mark you?” he groaned out, lips releasing your nipple to look at you.
“You already left bruises you twat,” you reminded him and he shrugged. True.
He slowly pulled out, and as he slammed back inside your tight hole, he whimpered out against your skin. He found your mouth to distract him. You were kissing him equally as hard, swallowing his little cries of plea and desperation and that made you so fucking wet. He was this hot guy who looked as if he could fuck you into another universe and here he was whimpering, losing himself into you so desperately.
“Fuck,” you mewled out softly, fingers digging into his hot skin as he suddenly halted.
His face was buried in your neck, voice so rough from holding back. “Right there, baby?”
You nodded, your hands urgently trying to press him closer to you. They roamed the expanse of his back, gently tracing his hot skin as he slid inside you again. You could feel his thick cock pulse inside you and your cunt was clenching uncontrollably around him.
“Do you want me to fuck you harder now? Is that what my baby wants?” He purred out into your ear, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly you could feel your skin bruising.
“Yes,” you eagerly responded, eating up every syllable that dropped from those pretty pink lips of his. He slowly slid out and thrusted back, filling you up to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted as mixtures of whimpers and moans slipped from your so innocent lips.
“Fuck, move Guk.”
He let out a thankful sigh as he shoved you further down the couch, hand pinning you by the wrists. “You’re gonna regret that soon.” He slammed into you, hips grinding on to your pubic bone, earning lewd, squelching sounds in return from you.
The sight was unreal. Jungkook was pounding into you to the point your legs had begun to shake. Your hands kept running down his body, admiring every dip and every muscle, and your kisses had turned into heavy pants as his mouth took over your body. He was so good at it that it made your cunt clench onto him, causing him to groan out against your skin. His movements had halted to a slow thrust as he dipped forward, his arms extending to be placed on either side of your face.
“How’re you feeling?” His arms were bulging, hands veiny, stomach clenching as he slowed down his movements to look at you. He was slowing down his movements to talk to you, but you were too focused on how his cock was filling you up each time he slid out and slammed back in with such brutal force that incoherent noises left your mouth as a response.
“S-So, good, ngh—I, I.”
You felt giddy from the way he was simply looking at you. Fuck, Jungkook stop before I fall in love even more with your dick, and you.
He ran his tongue up the side of your neck, licking a stripe of perspiration from your salty skin as you softly whimpered at the sensation. He was so good at everything. From the way his mouth sucked on your sensitive skin, to the way he was balls deep inside you now, and to the way his hands roamed your body, gripping and touching you until he was engraved in your mind. Every single movement he made, you could feel it and it was hot, so hot.
“Faster,” you panted out, and he complied. God, did he complied. “Kook,” you panted out, stopping him abruptly suddenly.
“What is it, baby?”
“Kiss me,” you incoherently demanded from him, your senses clouded by now. His easy going smile did wonders to your heart before he dipped down and kissed you like you wanted him to. His body molded with yours, his hot skin meeting yours as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you than he already was. His strong, bulging arms easily lifted you up from the couch momentarily so he could wrap them entirely around your back, his hands gripping your shoulders now. His tongue languidly rolled over yours, tracing and sucking on your lips until you were panting and breathless. There was this burning need that was he so quickly approaching with each roll of his hips against yours.
“I—Jungkook, ngh—”
“Does my baby want to cum already?”
“Yes, yes, please.” You desperately begged, your mouth missing his as another lewd whimper slipped from your lips. “Please, please.” Your lips were all over his jaw, moans echoing in his living room.
He was so strong, so sweet, and so good at fucking you. You wanted more. He was becoming addicting as each minute with him passed and you prayed to your God that this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw of him. His tongue traced your lips, and as he spread your legs wider for him to he buried himself into you again, a needy whine escaped your lips. Your legs wrapped around his ass, urging him closer as your vision blurred and your nails dug into his skin. You cried out his name out in the air as your orgasm rippled throughout your body, engulfing you in bliss.
“You’re so good to me,” he rasped out, his voice laced with need and want. He slowed down, lips molding against yours while you whimpered against his mouth. Your fingers slowly threaded themselves into his damp hair, pants escaping.
“So, so good.” He praised, his voice sounding orgasmic to your ears. “Can my baby handle more?” He purred out against your ear, and you obviously managed out a soft yes.
As a response, you clenched around him and he let out a groan. His hands landed on your hips, suddenly flipping you over against the couch.
“Baby, I’m gonna need for you to bend your knees for me okay? Can my baby do that?”
Your arms shook as you happily complied and rolled over to bent forward now, your heart racing as you felt his hand run down your spine and sides. His finger traced your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the poor excuse of a moan to come out from your mouth. Your hands extended further on to the couch, gripping tightly as Jungkook slammed into you from behind without warning. He sent you forward from the force, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop since you were fucking screaming out his name, pleading him, “Harder, harder, har—”
His fingers tangling into your hair, gripping tightly as you as he fucked you so ruthlessly from behind. Words couldn’t even form anymore. All you were screaming by now was his name since that’s all your body could remember at this point.
Jungkook.
Jungkook.
“I—I, Jungkook—”
You were utterly fucked.
It was so dirty, so messy, and it was exactly how you wanted it.
His ass was grinding straight balls deep into your ass, his hand roaming your body while he used the other as leverage so his muscled body wouldn’t be completely on you. Meanwhile you could barely hold yourself together. Your fingers had dug into the couch, your mouth directly pressed on the cushion as you tried to stop yourself from screaming so much. But you couldn’t. Not when he felt so good filling you up all the way you could barely breathe. His mouth was sucking so harshly on your skin, his thumb and index finger kneading your nipple. There were tears forming in your eyes as you felt yourself approaching another orgasm.
“More, more,” you cried out in a mantra as you arched your back to meet his sudden thrusts. His arm wrapped around your stomach, pressing himself closer to you. His broad chest was firmly pressed against your back, and you could feel his hand wedge between your slick thighs from your arousal. You lost yourself in his touch, not noticing the way Jungkook was glancing down at you as he abruptly kissed you, swallowing the moan from your lips.
“I love you—” you uttered out, breathless and completely wrecked.
“And I,” He pressed his thumb, drawing figure eights on your abused clit as he grinded his hips against your ass, his tongue running down your neck, sucking briefly. “And I love you.” He was doing so much to you and your brain could only handle so much, but you winded your arm around his neck, pressing him closer.
“I’m coming, I’m coming—” you practically screamed out as your knees buckled before you. He slammed into you one last time as your legs quivered uncontrollably. “Jungkook.” He fell forwards with you, his moans mixing with yours as your body shuddered, your legs quivering from the intensity of another orgasm.
“Fuck,” he breathlessly chuckled, hands beginning to remove strands of your damp hair away from your face. “Are you okay?” he cradled your face, seeming a bit worried since you were just lying there, breathing hard.
“No, you fucking moron.” You managed to mutter out, and he grinned. There you were. “Fuck, you’re too much Guk.” You slowly uttered it out between pants. Your heart was still racing and you couldn’t even feel your legs at this point.
He just laughed.
“You’re too hot for your own good, dude.”
“Thanks?” He seemed skeptic at accepting the compliment from you. “But on a serious note, did you really mean it?’
“What?” You smiled, beginning to accommodate yourself in his embrace. “That I love you?” You reminded him, and he slowly nodded, his hands cupping your chin so you could look at him in the eye.
He nodded, “Yeah.”
You didn’t hesitate. “Always.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know that I love you too,” he confessed and Jeongguk was ecstatic to see that love struck smile appear on your face, because now he was self-aware that it was only reserved for him. “And since I love you so much, you get no choice but to be stuck with me.”
You squinted your eyes at him as you removed his hands from your chin. “Is that another form of way of reassuring that I’m your girlfriend?” you prompted and the sheepish smile was your answer in return.
“In my defense, I fucked you until your next lifetime so I thought that could have helped course your decision whenever I asked.”
“So you waited after you fucked me to ask me to be your girlfriend again?” you concluded, wonderment laced in your voice. Before he answered you just sighed, “For now it’s a temporary no then.”
He pouted, and then a mischievous grin began to appear on his face. “But on another serious note, now that you’re not a virgin and you’re my girlfriend, and that the Gods from above helped you get laid, does that mean you’ll become the filthiest slut just for me?”
You remained silent, eyebrows furrowing at his stupid question. Filthiest slut? Just for him? Out of all the dumb shit he could say he decides to use this moment as a—and then you remembered.
“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, horrified. You tried shoving him away from you, but he just wrapped a hand around your wrist, keeping you pinned down against the couch. “You fucking heard everything didn’t you!”
Jeongguk just rolled over, arms wrapping around your body as he wholeheartedly laughed against your chest. “I’m still your Greek god, right?” He pouted once you smacked him in return. “I’m sure you’re no longer that mute you were before judging by how loudly you were screaming my name just ten minutes ago.”
“Jeon, you’re going to end up without a girlfriend before you even leave this country.”
“Okay,” he snickered to himself, pulling you flush against his body again since you managed to pull away from him. “I’ll shut up now, but come back here.”
Glaring at him, you crawled back into his arms. Jeongguk simply wrapped his arms around your body, kissing the side of your head as he more softly said, “I love you, you goof.”
You hummed in return, sleep beginning to engulf you at the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms.
“And I love you.” you concluded happily before he began to pepper you with kisses, his giggles and touch once again making you surrender to him.
#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#BTS jungkook#jungkook x you#kpopsmut#bangtan smut#moonlightchildz#jungkook#jungkook x y/n#bts#bts smut#jungkook fluff#jimin smut#jin smut#taehyung smut#yoongi smut#namjoon smut#hoseok smut
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Rowaelin for the OTP Drabble #24
Lmao, this was so fun to write. Thank you for the request! This is like, my first try at Rowaelin fanfictions so please don't kill me if it's bad. I promise I'm improving everyday! 😌
Detention Diaries
Pairing: Rowan x Aelin
Word count: 2012 words.
Warnings: A little swearing here and there.
Summary: Rowan Whitethorn has spent three years of high school like a nobody but when the self proclaimed queen of Terrasen High lands them both into detention, maintaining a low profile might be impossible.
Aelin was so done with the day.
She had accidentally stayed up all night reading a book and now, her eyelids itched to shut down. She had already dozed off thrice in Maths class and had it not been for Dorian shaking her every two minutes, Ms Meave would have had Aelin's head.
Even now, she suppressed a yawn as she made her way to the lockers in the hallway. "I am so screwed. I have an English test today."
A few students waved their hands at Aelin in passing and she gave them a smile. Aelin won't say she was popular but she did know a lot of people in the school, thanks to her cousin Aedion being on the football team and Dorian in the student council.
Dorian rolled his eyes as they stopped by his locker. "Don't be dramatic. You can't fail English even half asleep."
Her best friend was searching for something in his locker when the crowd quieted down and he came. Rowan Whitethorn.
She had heard his name whispered enough times in gossip circles to know just what kind of things he was involved in. The guy had a reputation for being a cold hearted asshole, even if Aelin had never even heard him raise his voice.
A hood covered a better part of his face, hiding the tattoo that covered half his pretty face. She could make out the silver hair peaking from beneath the hood, the oversized hoodie doing nothing to flatter the muscles they all knew he had.
He was beautiful.
Dorian noticed her stare, then rolled his eyes. He kissed her cheek, then said, "Don't get into trouble. I have Physics next." And then Dorian was gone.
Aelin tried to ignore the blush that fought it's way onto her cheeks as she walked beside Rowan. She had to remind herself that he never talked to anyone and this would only lead to heartbreak but maybe her sense of self preservation was half asleep too because she said, "Going to English?"
Her words were met with silence. She already knew he was going to English. It was one of the many classes they had in common but an answer would have been nice. She tried again, "Ready for the test today, Rowan?"
"Yes," was all he said.
Then Rowan quickened his pace, possibly to lose Aelin in the crowd but she was the uncrowned queen of Terrasen High. While the students parted to make way for Rowan out of fear, they parted for Aelin out of love and admiration.
She made sure to wave and smile at a few of them as she fought to catch up with Rowan's awfully long strides.
The test hadn't even started when they arrived to the class. Their English teacher Gavriel was sitting in his chair, a thick stack of papers on his desk. When he noticed Aelin entering the class with Rowan, her uncle raised an eyebrow. What trouble are you getting into now?
"No trouble," She promised him out loud as Rowan went to take a seat.
She chose to sit directly behind him and started on her test as soon as it was distributed. The test was fairly easy, even though Aelin had to put some extra efforts to recall a few names and places in between, thanks to the sleep deprivation. At one point, she was ready to throw her pen at the nearest wall and go to sleep then and there. She only managed to stay awake throughout with a sheer force of will.
The real trouble arose when she had finished the test. Not having anything else to do, Aelin decided to poke Rowan with her ruler.
He turned around, his pine green eyes brimming with fury and Aelin raised an eyebrow, face carefully blank. "Something I can help you with, sir?"
"Stop," He said in deep, rough and slightly accented voice that sent shivers down her spine before turning around.
Gods, even his voice was beautiful.
Aelin wrote on the back of her answersheet: Your voice is beautiful. Do you sing too? She crumpled the paper into a ball, then kicked it gently towards Rowan, who had also finished writing the test.
He did not answer back. Silence means affirmation, Mr. Whitethorn. Will I have the pleasure of hearing you sing sometime? She threw the note at the back of his head this time, drawing attention from a few students. For all that she loved being the social butterfly, Aelin was not keen of the rumours that came with popularity but she was having too much fun trying to piss Rowan off.
He opened the note, read it, then shoved it into his pocket. Then he turned around and snarled quietly, "Do not fuck with me, princess."
That had to be the most words she had heard him say ever and ignoring the tone with which he had delivered the words, Aelin felt a small amount of giddiness at the term of endearment he had used. Princess, she sighed to herself.
Her smile must have been very apparent because Uncle Gavriel asked, "Something funny, Miss Galathynius?"
"Why, the question paper," She answered with a lazy wave of her hand, "a child could do this, sir. If you want me to take your tests seriously, at least make them a little difficult."
A few students snickered.
Gavriel rolled his eyes, then went back to keeping an eye on everyone. A minute or two passed and Aelin was already dozing off again. She kicked Rowan's chair and someone whispered her name from behind her.
Aedion was hissing at her from two rows over, "Whatever you are doing, stop it. Whitethorn will kill you off."
Whitethorn did indeed look like he wanted to kill her off but God, Aelin had to be in some mood today because she ignored the glares from both the males, flipping her cousin off and went back to kicking at Rowan's chair. His knuckles were tightly gripping his desk as if he was trying not to strangle her and seeing his expression, she didn't doubt for a second that he gladly would.
"Rowan," she called. "Rowan, will you tell me what shampoo you use? Your hair looks so silky!"
He gave her an incredulous look before smoothing his features into a blank expression. She wrote him another note: Please, tell me what shampoo??? Please? Your hair looks so pretty and they smell SO good. His hair did shine beautifully and they even smelt nice but Aelin did it less out of curiosity and more because she was bored and Rowan Whitethorn was her best chance at entertainment.
When he received the note, Rowan's eyes went wide. He growled back at her. "Gods, do you never stop, Aelin?"
Aelin opened her mouth to answer but her uncle beat her to it. "Miss Galathynius and Mr Whitethorn, if you don't stop now, you're going to find yourself in the principal's office."
"Excuse me, sir, but she is bothering me," Rowan said, his cheeks tinged pink.
Aelin gasped dramatically, rising from her seat. She pointed an accusatory finger at the brooding figure in front of her, then said, "Liar, Liar, pants on fire! You were the one insisting we should be friends!"
"Friends?" Rowan scoffed. "The only thing I'm going to be around you is irritated."
Gavriel was making his way towards them and Aelin had no qualms about throwing him under the bus. He hadn't stopped to think before he had accused her of bothering him, had he? Why should she?
Because he was telling the truth. You're not, some sane voice said from the back of her mind.
Aelin did not pay it any attention. "That's not what you were saying out in the hallway when we were flirting!"
Aelin took a huge amount of satisfaction when Rowan's cheeks flushed with colour, the tips of his ears turning a dark red. "Flirting? With you? I'd rather die in a ditch—"
"DETENTION, BOTH OF YOU!" Her uncle bellowed.
Rowan let out a loud growl of protest. Aelin just shrugged, a smug smile on her face as she sat back down.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Rowan had never been more pissed. He did not know anyone as insufferable as Aelin Galathynius with her reputation around the school as a heartbreaker, the self-proclaimed princess of Terrasen High. He loathed how hard she laughed sometimes, drawing all attention towards herself. He loathed how her eyes crinkled, the gold rings around the turquoise shining brighter every time she smiled.
She had everyone in the school at her beck and call and it pissed Rowan off.
Even now, she sauntered into detention with a swagger as if there was no other place she would rather be. The class was empty, save for Rowan and a dark haired guy sitting in the back. Aelin noticed him too and raised an eyebrow, "Why, Fenrys darling, what did you do to end up in this hellscape?"
Fenrys had a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's not Hell if you're here, sweetheart."
Right. If Rowan tried hard enough, he could recall a conversation in the locker rooms about the school player, Fenrys Moonbeam leaving some party with Aelin Galathynius, both of them drunk as shit. Fenrys, the quarterback of the football team with his charming smiles and bedroom eyes was the kind of guy Aelin Ashryver Galathynius would date.
Fenrys twisted in his seat to get a better look at the spawn of satan. She gave him an intimate, coy smile—the kind that you only reserve for some select few people. Rowan shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like an intruder. He coughed loudly. "If you are going to undress each other with your eyes, have the decency to find yourself a room."
Aelin's answering smile was full of fire—wicked, dangerous wildfire. "Jealous, Whitethorn?"
Rowan scoffed, wishing he had the power to make her choke on air with one look. He had to be in some mood today. Thank the three faced goddess that Lorcan was absent today. Rowan knew Lorcan would give him an endless amount of shit if his best friend saw Rowan drive himself insane over childish, insolent, bratty Aelin Galathynius.
At least she and Fenrys were sitting two seats apart now, whispering quietly to each other. When five minutes passed and no teacher entered, Aelin rose from her seat and walked towards the window.
"What are you doing?" Rowan asked, then frowned. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken.
The expression on Aelin's face definitely told him he should not have spoken at all. She was smirking that obnoxious smirk of hers as she drawled out, "Not all of us are obedient little students, Whitethorn. See you around, preferably when you've grown some balls."
Rowan huffed. During his years in high school, he had always thought of Aelin as an arrogant, immature troublemaker. Now he could add rude to that list too.
Fenrys was already standing guard on the door. "Quick, Aelin! Mr Gavriel is going to come our way any minute."
Then Aelin turned, giving him a slow, simpering smile that clearly conveyed her thoughts about what she thought of his insistence to remain in detention. Scared, Whitethorn? And gods damn him, he was scared, not of being caught skipping but what an hour spent with Aelin might do to him. It was the challenge in those turquoises eyes, the taunt hidden behind her smile that had him rising from his seat.
She stepped back, letting him jump out of the window first. He was wondering if he should extend a hand to help or not when she leaped out with a grace he had never known she possessed.
Aelin was grinning, wider than ever and this may be the worst idea he had ever had but Rowan asked, "Where to?"
When the blonde haired girl straightened, shoulders pulled back and confident like a Queen, he decided that even if this was as likely to end in disaster as anything else, Rowan knew he owed it to himself to find out.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
I am not sure if I should finish this here. If enough people want to read further, I might turn this into a multi chapter fic so feel free to drop your thoughts on that in the comments! Also, if anyone would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
Tags:
@thesirenwashere
@judexcardanxgreenbriar
@the-dark-swan
@fangirltrash74
#aelin fireheart#rowan x aelin#aelin ashryver#aedion ashryver#throne of glass#heir of fire#queen of shadows#incorrect tog quotes#tog incorrect quotes#tog fandom#tog fanfic#Rowaelin fanfic#rowaelin fanfiction#rowaelin#rowan whitethorn#empire of storms#kingdom of ash#throne of glass fanfiction#aelin ashryver galathynius#queen aelin#rowaelin modern au
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Chapter 39 - Drown Me In Your Thirsty Veins
Seattle Washington, November 4 1990
(Andi is 20, Chris is 26)
ANDI: "Ok, Mrs. Cornell, here is your prescription and you are all set," one of the girls behind the counter at the pharmacy says as she hands me a little bag.
"Thank you," I smile as I take the bag from her. I swear it's still crazy to me to hear people call me 'Mrs. Cornell'. It almost sounds surreal in a sense.
In the few weeks that we have been officially husband and wife, we have been practically inseparable - well we always were before of course but even more so now, though I'm not counting the times when I slip of course. The next morning after I came back, Chris took me to city hall so that we could actually make our marriage official and even though I hated myself for slipping and missing the whole entire thing, Chris told me that my future self came back to marry him at the ceremony, which confused me at first, but at least I was able to be there, even if it was my future self. Then to celebrate, we went back to the tattoo artist that originally did my ring tattoo and had him finish it. Chris still keeps my wedding band and engagement ring around his silver chain necklace, never taking it off.
I haven't slipped since the wedding but my neurologist decided to up my dose of Lorazepam anyways. No one knows why I slipped at the wedding. I've been taking exactly what is prescribed to me like clockwork but for some reason, it just happened, and it wasn't like my normal time slips either. The dizziness was overwhelming. It just felt different. Anyways... hopefully these pills will help.
As I head out the doors looking down at my prescription, I flip my curls out of my face to see Chris leaning against his baby blue Ford pick-up in his leather jacket, a plain black knit sweater, black jeans with the cuffs rolled up over his red Doc Martens, taking a drag from his cigarette while he squints his eyes from the rising smoke. His beard is perfectly trimmed and his curls that are down passed his shoulders, gently sway in the cool November breeze while he waits for me. Seems like he's always waiting for me.
"Hey beautiful," He says sweetly exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Hi," I smile back as I walk up to him, lifting myself up a little to press my lips to his. I give him a few quick kisses but then he just grabs me by the nape of my neck and presses his lips harder to mine making me giggle against him.
"You ready?" He says when I pull away from him.
"As I'll ever be," I say and he chuckles giving me one last quick kiss and then moving to open the passenger side door for me. He helps me in, then closes the door and heads around to his side and climbs in. I immediately take over the task of finding some tunes, popping in a cassette with Guns N' Roses blasting through the speakers. Chris glances over at me with a smirk as he butts out the last of his cigarette.
"What can I say, I love Slash ok?" I smile and give him a shrug. He laughs and gives me a sweet smirk again. He then turns his attention to the steering wheel, pulling out away from the curb and we take off down the streets of downtown Seattle.
We are heading up north to London Bridge Studios for Chris to do some recording with Jeff, Stone, Matt and Mike McCready. Chris's grandfather has a cabin near the studio, so we decided to use it for a place to stay which will also give us some much needed alone time in between recording.
Over the summer, Chris had been working on some songs in the wake of Andy's passing and Jeff was the one who had suggested that he record the songs, in sort of a tribute to Andy. Since there were also a few other songs that Chris had written that sort of didn't really fit the esthetic of Soundgarden, he thought of maybe putting them all on an album. One last time to say goodbye you could say.
About an hour and a half later, we arrive at the Cabin which was located down a winding back road that was apparently only maintained during the summer months. There was only just a little bit of snow on the road but it still made the drive a little slippery. I guess Chris's truck needs some new winter tires.
Once we were parked, I climb out of the truck while Chris grabs some of the bags from the back, then comes around to take my hand leading me up to the front door. Hi fishes in the pockets of his leather jacket to find the keys while I pull closed my leather jacket, feeling the chill in the air. It's definitely a lot colder up here than in Seattle. Once he opens the door, he lets me inside first.
"Damn, it's cold in here too," I say.
"Yea it will be for a little bit, 'til I get the fire going," He says as he sets some of the bags down at the door. "I'm just gonna grab the groceries from the truck, I'll be right back babe,"
As he heads back to the truck, I take off my Doc Martens, carry the bags over to the bed which was straight ahead on the far side positioned next to the wall and slip off my leather jacket.
The cabin is one big large open room with a large fireplace and a little kitchen off to the far right side with a small fridge and stove that looked like it was from the 1940's - which it mostly likely was. The couch and love seat surround the fireplace with what looked like an animal fur throw rug in the middle, and a TV positioned high up on a stand in the far left corner.
Chris then comes back in with the groceries and a couple of guitars, setting them down by the door as he begins to take of his red Doc Martens. I then walk over to him, taking the bags of groceries and walk over to the kitchen to put them away.
"Ok, let's get a fire going," Chris says as he walks over to the fireplace, grabbing some of the kindling and some of the wood logs that had been already cut from a few months prior and placing it inside. He then takes the long lighter off of the mantle and lights the fireplace and it instantly roars to life.
"Are you hungry?" I ask as I close the fridge, stashing the grocery bags on the counter.
"A little," He says as he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me.
"My god, I'm so cold," I say and snuggle into him for warmth as he brushes my curls from my shoulder, placing his lips to that spot under my ear. The scent of his cologne so fresh and comforting, as it fills my nostrils.
"Me too baby," He says, his voice deep and smooth. His lips move to my earlobe, his beard tickling me as he does so, sending chills down my body. He slowly reaches in front of me, carefully unbuttoning my red plaid shirt and once he reaches the last button, I turn to face him, pressing my lips to his. His hands make their way up my back, his fingers skipping across my skin as I lace my fingers through his curls, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip.
He then swiftly picks me up and I laugh in surprise, wrapping my legs around him as he carries me over to the fur rug in front of the fire. He lays me down giggling with me, my shirt now open revealing my black lacy bra as he kneels in between my legs.
"I thought you said... you were hungry?" I ask, watching him lift up his sweater, revealing his perfectly toned chest and abs. His gorgeous curls fall down around his shoulders as he tosses his sweater on the couch, the silver chain necklace laying against his skin glistening in the warm fire light.
"I didn't say it was for food," He says with that sly smirk, his incredible blue eyes fixating on mine as he moves over top of me, unbuckling my belt, popping open the button to my jeans and pulling the zipper down. I bite my bottom lip as he immediately pulls my jeans down over my hips tossing them aside then carefully holds my ankle, pulling off my white sock, tossing it with my jeans and I couldn't help but laugh at how ticklish it felt.
"Chris, don't, don't touch my feet please," I laugh.
"Shhhhh trust me...," He laughs and takes my other ankle, pulling off my other sock. He then gently moves his hands up my calf, opening my legs further as his fingers brush across my skin, moving up my thigh to the rim of my black panties.
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath letting it out slowly as I feel his fingers play just inside the rim of my panties, feeling his blue eyes watch me as I react to him. Once his fingers begin to softly stroke my clit, I let out a whimper, slightly arching my back to the feeling of his touch.
"Shit, baby... you are so wet already," He says and I quickly nod letting out a gasp as his fingers tease around my slit without actually going in. I want him so bad already but I need to let myself enjoy it. He then stops for a moment, slipping his fingers out from the thin fabric, then pulls them down over my hips as I help wiggle out of them. Without even wasting a single second, he positions my legs perfectly, then spreads me open, his lips instantly making contact with my clit.
I moan as he places gentle fleeting kisses all around my clit, his lips feeling so hot yet soft at the same time. His thumb brushes the outside of my slit, still teasing but not actually going inside which was driving me absolutely insane with incredible pleasure.
"Fuck... Chris you're so fucking good," I manage to get out in between my moans. Then as if he felt the need to up his game, he gives my clit a few licks , then begins to suck, feeling each gentle pull while his tongue intermittently flicks in perfect timing.
I moan even louder than before as he slips a finger, then another inside me stroking perfectly as the crackling sound from the fire fills the room. It wasn't long before I could feel that wonderful sensation deep inside me, begging to explode. As much as I tried to hold back and just enjoy him playing with me, my body had other plans. Without so much as a warning, I cry out a string of sudden profanities that even a sailor would blush at as Chris plays me though the entire event. It was almost like I had lost my complete sense of awareness of where I was and what time I was in. Like I wasn't even on this plane of existence anymore. I wish time slipping was this incredible.
"Stop, stop... oh my god, Chris you have... to stop," I pant.
"Are you sure baby? It seems like you don't really want me to," He says as I try to stop myself from responding to his touch, but he just makes me feel so good.
"No, I mean yes... you have to stop," I continue to try to catch my breath with my eyes still squeezed shut. I quickly cover my face in my hands, not wanting him to look at me anymore. I'm not exactly sure why but I just feel so vulnerable, like I don't want him to see me at all.
"Baby?" He chuckles and it was all I could do to will myself not to cry.
Why in the fucking world is this making me cry?
I hear him unbuckle his belt and after a few quick seconds, I feel his lips place sweet kisses to my stomach, slowly moving up to my ribs and I start to giggle, feeling his beard tickle me. Chris then starts to giggle as I start to laugh while he continues to place sweet kisses on my chest.
"I... love you... so, so, so, so much," He says softly laughing in between his kisses as I take my hands away from my face, wiping the stray tears from the corners of my eyes. "... and I love how I can make you cum so hard that you react that way to me,"
"So you want to make me cry?" I laugh still wiping my eyes.
"No, no... I mean - " He cuts himself off as I laugh.
"It's ok Chris, I know what you meant. I'm just embarrassed about crying after... that, but holy fuck, I don't know what or how you were doing whatever you were doing but... fuck..." I try to explain as I remember the exact moment, feeling the tingling sensation returning to my clit. He then grabs my hips and pulls me to him and I laugh again as he laughs with me, his lips moving to that spot under my earlobe.
"You don't need to feel embarrassed at all. You don't even know how incredibly sexy you are, do you?" He whispers in my ear and I can feel his cock, so insanely hard as he teases my entrance with just the tip.
"No," I say shyly.
"Well you are baby," He whispers pushing himself inside me, slowly and sensually and I instinctively wrap my legs around his hips, locking his legs with mine, arching my back while he moves in and out of me. I feel my entire body lose control as he hits the perfect spot inside me, filling me up completely.
"Holy shit," He pants and pulls out of me.
"What?" I exhale.
"Nothing, I'm just trying not to cum yet," He says as he looks down at himself.
"Chris, I don't care," I pant. I just wanted him back inside me. He then pushes himself back in and I swear I thought I was going to lose it. He just feels so incredibly hard and thick. He lets out a loud moan and touches his forehead to mine, as I cry out seemingly louder than before. I flick my eyes open to watch his expression, his eyebrows knitting together, then furrowing.
"Oh, fuck yes!" He cries out and I feel him release inside me as I pant, trying to catch my breath. "Oh my god baby, that was... holy shit,"
Panting, he collapses down on top of me and I giggle to myself full of pure bliss from him. We roll on to our side, and he lifts himself up on his forearm as he pulls out of me to look down at himself for a moment. I then place my lips to his cheek and then down his jawline to his neck as he continues to breathe slightly heavy.
"Sorry babe, give me a second here," He says and he moves away from me, and gets up, fumbling just a little and I giggle. He quickly makes his way to the bathroom which was beside the kitchen and comes back with a towel, wiping himself down, then coming back to me, moving my leg to help wipe me down too.
"I kinda... made a mess," He smirks shyly,
"It's ok," I giggle.
"Look... look what you do to me," He says kneeling in between my legs again, glancing back down at himself, his curls falling across his face and I can see that he was still fully erect.
"Awe, baby... maybe I can help with that," I say, completely turned on again at the size of him and how he was still so hard after that. I sit myself up, flipping my curls out of my face and immediately take him in my hand giving him a few good squeezes.
"Oh shit," He exhales as I place my lips to the tip of him, giving him a few sweet kisses first, then begin to suck lightly while his entire body tenses. I give him another squeeze as I suck harder and more determined, earning moans of encouragement with each stroke. He then leans against the couch, repositioning himself with his legs straight out in front of him, I kneel in between as his fingers lace through my hair, drowning in my dark curls. I moan a little as his fingers play with my hair feeling so good as I do my work on him.
"Fuck, you are so fucking good at that," He praises, his breathing becoming more intense.
I stop for a moment, running my tongue all the way down his shaft and slowly back up to give me a moment to catch my breath. Then I continue sucking, flattening my tongue along his shaft stroking and squeezing whatever I couldn't get in my mouth.
"Baby, come here," He breathes and I give him one last good suck as he pulls me to him.
"Did I do something wrong?" I ask.
"No, no... I just wanna be inside you again," He says, those blue eyes of his intensely fixated on mine as I position myself perfectly on top of him.
As soon as I lowered myself on him, I knew I wasn't going to last long at all. His hands move to my hips to help guide me and it was all I could do to keep myself together. I throw my head back as he reaches up moving my shirt off my shoulder, pulling my bra strap down and pressing his lips, gently nipping and moving down. I moan arching my back moving with his rhythm as he frees my breast from the confines of my bra, his lips teasing, his tongue flicking my nipple was all I could take before I could feel that wonderful sensation creeping up once more.
"Chris, I'm gonna cum again," I pant as he breaks his lips from my nipple.
"Me too baby," He says as his thumb brushes my nipple. I take in a deep breath and touch my forehead to his and once more, we release together, moaning and crying out as one.
#time travel#Time After Time#alternate universe#also on ao3#also on wattpad#chris cornell#chris cornell fanfiction#soundgarden#soundgarden fanfiction#fanfiction#grunge#grunge fanfiction
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Promise
Boxer!Jay Park x ER Doctor! Reader
Warnings: Suggestive(?)(not really) lil bit of violence
Word count: 4k
“Okay” you finished gently rubbing the antiseptic and placed a bandage over the fresh stitches you had just done “now, rest and absolutely no physical contact for-” “Y/N you’re needed over here” your coworker interrupted you and you rolled your eyes “2 weeks, you can go over there to book a follow up” you gestured towards the reception desk “okay what’s happening now” you were at the sink washing your hands and prepping a fresh pair of gloves “I just need you to take that patient behind curtain number three I’m busy” Minho handed you the chart once you had your new gloves on and rushed away “let’s see” you opened the thick chart “geez this is huge how often does this person get hurt” you pulled back the cream curtains and you were met with the familiar tattooed man, this time a lip gushing with blood and a swollen eye “seriously??” you threw your arms up in frustration “this is what? The third time this week, the eighth time this month??” “wow are you keeping track of me?” he grinned but it quickly turned into a grimace cause of his lip injury “whatever you’re doing you need to stop this isn’t healthy” you scolded him “but then I wouldn’t get to see you” he reached towards you hand and you quickly dodged it and got your suture kit out “you don’t need to keep injuring yourself if you want to see me” you sighed and began cleaning his bottom lip, he winced when you applied pressure “of course I do, you refused to give me your number the first time” you shook your head “I work in an emergency room for a living, relationships don’t work with me” “then I’ll continue to get hurt these are our dates” you placed the needle through his lip without warning and jerked away from you “that’s cause you won’t shut up now hold still”.
“So what exactly do you do” you asked mindlessly checking things off in your chart “do you want to see?” he put his jacket on and walked towards you “not really know if you end up looking like this” you used your pen to gesture towards him. “You should come one night I think you’d have fun” you finally met his eyes “well too bad I work every night, tending to idiots like you” you sarcastically frowned “come on you don’t work EVERY night” “and what if I do?” he knew you were lying “okay I don’t work Thursday’s” you sighed “that perfect!” a smile appeared on his face “be careful you’re gonna pop the stitches!” you hit him with his own chart “sorry sorry!” he held his hands up in defense “so give me your number and I’ll text you details” he handed his phone to you and you regretfully complied, entering your number.
You walked over to the desk, rubbing your neck, it had been a long night. “That took you so long” Minho was sitting across from you in the receptionist seat you knew wasn’t his “Jay Park… again” you rolled your eyes “seriously that the third time I’ve seen him here” “I know he keeps insisting on seeing me”. You went through your charts to make sure everything was in order. “aw that’s kind of sweet, why don’t you go on a date with him?” you looked at him as if he was insane “the man is literally a masochist, who gets hurt like that all the time? an insane person” you answered your own question “Okay but you don’t know that maybe he does…” Minho couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for Jay’s frequent injuries “exactly… but I might’ve agreed to come see him at his work” you gave him an embarrassed look “oh no way… you def like him” he grinned “do not! I’m just curious” you stacked up your charts and began to walk away “yeah sure” Minho called but you just walked away smiling.
You got out of your car and stared at the unfamiliar brick building, unsure if you should continue, you tried texting Jay but he was suddenly unresponsive. “I’m gonna get killed” you thought as you locked your phone and walked towards the building. You saw a lot of people standing around a table waving cash around, you checked your wallet and hoped you brought enough money, he didn’t tell you you had to pay. You walked up to the table and people were throwing names out along with cash and men were writing the names, counting cash and yelling at people, the whole atmosphere was chaotic.
You stood around unsure of what to do, trying to find a way out “So who are you betting on?” a strange man asked next to you “bet?” your eyes widened and you looked at him in confusion he started laughing, too loud for your comfort “is this your first time?” “y-yeah” you felt embarrassed “what is this place? Jay never told me” you tried to look around for any clues but failed “Jay?” The man was seemingly in shock “Yeah Jay Park, he’s been coming to my hospital a lot, do you know him?” “of course everyone here knows him” “they do why-” “are you gonna bet or not” “I’ll do $100 on Jay for tonight” the man placed a stack of cash on the table “she won’t be betting tonight” he moved you guys away from the table. You started to walk through the dark hallway towards the main area “why are you betting on Jay?” he just stared at you with an incredulous look on his face“god you are in for such a shock” he ruffled your hair “I’m Hyukwoo by the way” “Y/N” you gave him a nod.
The two of you arrived to the main area and it all started to make sense, you looked around at the audience stands, the dark lighting and right smack dab in the middle, a huge boxing ring lit up by a few bright lights “no shit” you looked at the ring, running your fingers along the ropes. “Are you shocked?” Hyukwoo practically shouted at you, the room was too loud “kind of? But not really?? I don’t know it kind of explains the frequent injuries” you shrugged “what do you mean? Have you met him before?” “Yeah, who do you think stitches him up all the time” you scoffed. It was his turn for his eyes to become wide “no way you’re the cute doctor???” he shut his mouth quickly “the what???” you laughed “I’ve said too much, look they’re about to come out” he turned his head towards the ring and you followed suit.
The announcer came out microphone in hand, it was all so cliche you couldn’t believe this stuff actually went down like this “tonight we have newcomer Alex” the announcer’s voice boomed and out came a really young looking kid however he looked fearless and scary, the crowd cheered loudly for him. He was shirtless with black boxer shorts on, and his hair in a man bun, one thing you did take note however he didn’t have any gloves on. Your stomach twisted, this was most definitely illegal, the bets, this sketchy looking place, no gloves which meant they could basically pummel each other to death “that explains the busted knuckles one time” your face twisted. “Next up we have, your favorite and mine Jay Park” the announcer stressed out the last syllable of his name for what felt like forever and the crowd roared, out came Jay hands wrapped up, shirtless, in white boxer shorts, hair draped over his face. Your heart began to speed up a little bit, you weren’t sure if it was because you thought he looked nice or if you were anxious about what’s to come.
Jay started swinging as soon as the whistle blew, he missed the first couple but he finally landed one straight in Alex’s jaw, that knocked him back a bit but Alex started furiously throwing punches at him that he tried his best to dodge but Alex managed to get a few into his ribs. You were very noticeably at the edge of your seat, practically almost falling off, Hyukwoo chuckled and pulled you back “he’s doing great” he whispered in your ear and you finally breathed in what felt like forever. The match ended by Jay trapping his opponent between his legs and Alex had finally tapped out, you breathed a sigh of relief and stood up with the crowd to congratulate him.
Hyukwoo helped lead you to the locker room and wait for Jay, when his eyes landed on you a shit eating grin formed on his face “wow I can’t believe you actually came” he tried to pull you into a hug but you unknowingly dodged it and began examining him, the doctor in you taking over. “And how’s your breathing I saw he punched you in your chest pretty hard, could you breath for me” you placed your hand on his muscular chest, eyebrows knit in concentration, he placed his hand over yours “hey you’re not working today so don’t worry about it alright?” he swiftly removed your hand from his chest and intertwined your fingers, you blushed, unfamiliar with this sudden touchy-feely behavior. “Let me just-” “no no no let’s go out to eat” he smiled dragging you to his car.
A few minutes later you were sitting next to Jay, across from Hyukwoo enjoying some burgers “and he literally comes in all the time, even for probable concussions” you laughed explaining how often Jay frequents your hospital “well you can never be too safe” he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment “yeah especially when the doctor is so cute” Hyukwoo raises his eyebrows suggestively “yeah that too” Jay coughs “who? Minho?” you try to hide the blush on your cheek and Jay just laughs. Hyukwoo had to leave early, leaving you and Jay alone, he leaned against your car before you could get in, “sooo” he looped his fingers through your belt loops, pulling you closer, your bodies practically touching “I would really like to see you again, minus Hyukwoo” he smirks. You look down playing with a rock under your shoe “I don’t know… I’m always working you won’t like it” you frowned “I work every night just like you” he argued “how about we let the day time be for us” he holds your chin to make you look at him “okay maybe we can go on one date” you smile.
The following Thursday you found yourself in the same booth as the last time except you were sitting across from Jay this time Hyukwoo nowhere to be found. “Sorry this is the only place that’s open this late” he mumbled “that’s okay I like this place” you gave him a warm smile that seemed to ease his nervousness. After that you fell into comfortable conversation, trying to get to know each other as best as possible. “And so what’s the grossest thing you’ve seen in the ER” you pretended to think for a minute “you” you teased and he threw his head back laughing “what? Sometimes you have nasty cuts” you laughed with him. “But seriously ummm” you paused “ooo okay so one time we had to pull an axe out of this man's stomach and then once we removed it he just didn’t stop bleeding so I had to-” you looked up and Jay looked a little sick, you chuckled “I’ll stop this is clearly too graphic for you” “sorry I just wasn’t expecting it” he sighed “no worries” you nodded and you guys fell silent. “Well so why do you box?” you rested your chin in your palm leaning into him “hm I don’t really know, it's good money, I’m good at it” he shrugged “it’s as nice way to get anger out” he gave you an unsure look “well I have a lot of anger maybe you should teach me one day” you raised your eyebrows playfully “maybe” he smiled.
After three more dates Jay wanted to make you his, officially, which you were hesitant about. Yeah you were falling for him but his career made you extremely anxious. You grew accustomed to the routine you two had created, seeing each other practically every day going on little dates and sometimes just spending the day at either of your guys apartments, Some nights when he had small cuts or bruises, he would show up at your door using it as an excuse to be able to spend the night even though you would have let him anyway.
You even let Jay take you to his gym to teach you how to box. He strapped you in the protective gear, patting the padded helmet on your head and giving you a kiss on the nose. “Okay so you’re going to want to” he placed his leg in between yours, guiding your foot into a proper stance in front of the red punching bag “yeah stand just like that” then he wrapped his arms around yours lifting them up in front of your face you blushed slightly at the closeness. “okay now keep your elbow straight” his fingertips grazed your elbow and then he tapped lightly signaling you to throw the first punch, it wasn’t hard at all, he heard him hold back a laugh “ugh come on” you turned around hitting him lightly “okay okay let’s try again” he turned you around placing you back into the same stance.
After a couple of missed punches you finally landed one straight on the punching bag “OH NICE” he shouted picking you up and shaking you “hey don’t congratulate me yet I want to be as good as you” you raised your gloved fist in his face turning back to throw more punches at the bag. “I see why you like this” you said between punches “although I usually just punch minho whenever I’m upset” “maybe we should get you your own” Jay laughed “or maybe I can just come here with you” you grinned “well then I would end up being too distracted by you” he wrapped his arms around you.
In turn you met him at his apartment, medically prepared first aid kit in tow, you agreed to teach him how to treat his wounds. You were seated on his bathroom counter, Jay placed himself between your legs, you were teaching him each product and what order he would need to apply everything “Okay so this is called…” you held up the brown bottle “peroxide” he responded and you nodded with a smile. “I don’t see why we’re doing this I have you” he ran a finger down your thigh,“well sometimes I’m asleep when you show up I’d like to sleep a full night” you swatted his hand away and leaned forward wiping his cut with the peroxide. “Plus you asked me” you got defensive “maybe it was just so I could get you in this position” he wrapped your legs around his back and picked you up off the counter, he pressed a peck into your lips.
As quickly as things had happened, things fell apart just as quickly.
You tried to attend every match you could and you gave him a thorough check up whenever you could, it just made you so nervous even though he was undeniably good. You would never express to him your uneasiness, he loved boxing and you don’t expect him to stop it for you, that would be unfair but it just made you want to throw up sometimes. Every time someone bursted through the doors on a late night, your heart raced and you always had to check to make sure it wasn’t your boyfriend.
“Good job” you clapped your hands lightly, you met Jay at your usual after match spot, he pulled you into his arms swinging you around “that was seriously one of my bests ugh that was great” he grinned widely “yeah you were really great out there” you patted down his sweaty hair “do you want to go to our usual place?” you asked as he grabbed his bag “of course” he took your hand in his “ugh wow I still can’t get over how great that-” Jay hunched over coughing a bit “are you alright” you rubbed his back “did anything come out when you coughed? A color-” “stop Y/N seriously stop” he moved away from you “do you have to baby me all the time? This shit happens it’s normal after getting a few hits” his words hit you like a truck “well excuse me for caring about you” you bit back tears “no- that’s not what I meant” he tried to grab your wrists but you pulled away “no I know exactly what you mean” you sighed walking away.
You woke up and surprisingly found Jay next to you in your bed, you only remembered crying yourself to sleep, not him coming home with you. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder but you moved away from his touch “Y/N please” he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in close so you couldn't move away. “That was so stupid of me to say, I know you’re a doctor and its just instinct, I actually really do appreciate your care” you stayed silent so he could continue “I don’t know what came over me I was just all really excited about winning and I didn’t want to think about things that could drag the mood down” “are you saying I drag the mood down” you spat “no of course not, it’s just if something bad were to happen to me I didn’t want it to be in that moment.” You finally turned around to face him “I’ll try to hold back” you ran your hand up and down his muscular forearm “no please” he placed a kiss on your cheek “don’t” one on your other cheek “hold back” and finally a kiss on your lips “I really like not having to go to the hospital to see you and I get a free check up” he mumbled into your neck “now will you give me a check up doctor?” he gave you a smirk.
Things seemed to go downhill since that day. After another attempted check up a couple weeks later and him lashing out in the same way except you didn’t wake up next to him that morning.
[To: Jay]: Hey… I’m sorry about last night can we meet up?
[From: Jay]: Sorry :( I have a huge match to prep for later this week
[To: Jay]: Oh… okay well if it’s on a night that I’m not working let me know so I can watch! :)
[From: Jay]: Sure.
You went to work extremely distracted, constantly checking your phone for an update. When your phone locked and you were met with your reflection you finally heard Minho “Y/N did you hear what I said?” you looked up sheepishly “no sorry” “come on let’s go get some coffee”.
You hadn’t told him everything that happened just that you were currently in a “weird spot”, he knew there was more to it but he didn't want to push you. “Okay I’m taking your phone for the rest of the night” he pried it out of your clutch “you’re a doctor focus” he nudged your arm.
“How are you and Jay doing?” Minho asked one day while you two were trying to rest in the on call room “umm” you trailed off. “I actually haven’t seen him in a while” your voice was quiet “really? What happened?” he rolled over to face you “I guess I’m too pushy, the doctor in me always wants to check up on him and we talked about and I thought we got over it but I guess not” you frowned “He can’t date a doctor and not expect that to happen” Minho scoffed “he says it ruins the mood” “oh Y/N I’m so sorry” he opened up his blanket and you squeezed into the twin bed with him, he rubbed your arm “I’m sure things will get better soon” he whispered.
You hadn’t seen Jay for about a week after that, his texts were short and he never told you when his matches were. It was impossible to get a hold of him and it was very much distracting you at work. It wasn’t until you started to cut a patient's circulation off with a blood pressure monitor minho decided enough was enough.
-Minho Pov-
“Hi is this Jay?” he tried to say as sternly as possible, gathering up all his courage. “No he’s training right now but I can take a message?” a man said from the other end “Well I don’t know if you know who Y/N is but he’s completely cut her off and it’s affecting her heavy, I need him to figure his shit out and talk to her” there was a moment of silence until the other man spoke up “wow I had no idea… I’ll talk to him for sure thank you” minho nodded even though he couldn’t be seen and hung up.
It was a very quiet night in the ER you were tending to your last patients when suddenly the EMT’s burst through the doors rushing past you with a gurney “I've got an unconscious male, seems to have taken multiple hits, Y/N I need your help on this” on of the EMT says as he placed the gurney behind a curtain, pulling out an ambu bag. This type of thing was normal for you, you were always calm in these situations, that was until you actually saw the unconscious man, you clipboard clattered to the floor and your ears began to ring, you felt dizzy, hoped, prayed it was a dream. “Y/N please pump his chest” the EMT placed the ambu bag on Minsik’s face and waited for you to get beside him. Your body moved unconsciously doing the actions it’s known to do by heart, that was all you could do, in your head you were screaming at him trying to tell him how stupid he was. Tears began to fall down your face and you began to pump his chest harder “I can’t…. we can’t lose him” you strained out “we’re not going to” minho stroked your hair, you had no idea when he had gotten there “keep going you’re doing great” he was frantically checking Jay’s pulse for any sign. Your hands hurt from pumping so much and your vision was blurry, you were so tired, you wanted this to end “I’m feeling something keep going Y/N” Minho perked up keeping his thumb on Jay’s wrist. You pushed yourself to keep going no matter how much it hurt “come on you idiot don’t leave me please” a second wave of tears began to flood “please please” at this point you weren’t sure if your pumping was hurting or helping him. Five minutes felt like eternity, five minutes had passed and that’s when Jay finally jerked up taking a deep breath, for some reason you were still pumping until Minho took your shaking hands in his pulling you to his chest “He’s alright look, he’s gonna make it” he whispered into your ear but you just continued to sob until your tears ran out.
The next time you saw Jay you felt like punching him straight in the face, however when you looked at the man all hooked up to the machines and in a hospital gown you grew extremely sad. You immediately ran to his side wrapping him in your arms, last night you thought you wouldn’t be able to feel this again “you’re an idiot you’re such a fucking idiot” you sobbed loudly into his chest “I know, I know” he whispered caressing your head.
A/N: Hi! how is everyone! I hope you guys liked this, please note I really know nothing about the medical field this is just me w my research lol. Requests are open please let me know what you think about this!
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Catharsis [Local Musician!Calum] One Shot
Catharsis—The purging or release of emotional tensions, especially through kinds of art or music.
A/N: this is 19.3k of local musician!Calum and i hope you guys enjoy it! i loved writing this, bc it’s, in my opinion, softer than most of what i’ve written. also, the lovely moodboard is by my even lovelier friend @softforcal!!! happy reading, babies
There was a local artist in Annette’s favorite cafe, a musician, who’d captured her attention from the first strum of his guitar and the captivating voice he sang with the second she heard him. Blue’s was known for its dedication to giving the local talent a platform, paying them to sing for customers if they had what it took. And this guy, this brown haired, tattooed singer who alternated between performing covers and originals, had captured the hearts of all of the regulars—Annette included. It was because of him that she’d sometimes be late to work or classes if he happened to be playing, completely enraptured by his performance and his smooth rasp sounding over the dull chatter of customers. Not that anyone really talked over the sound of him—Calum Hood was just too captivating to ignore.
Annette was never sure what exactly it was that had her stopping in her tracks every time she heard him sing—if it was the deep lilt of his voice that managed to carry every note he meant to hit, or if it was the lyrics he sang when he introduced a song he wrote himself. Songs about love, loss, healing, and everything in between that hit a little too close to home every time. Honestly—Annette began giving more thought to what Calum must have gone through to be able to write such deeply personal songs that seemed to resonate with everyone than she did to the coursework she should have been focusing on.
Maybe she was being creepy. Maybe she should’ve stopped lingering in the back of the cafe after she got her order of either a strawberry iced tea or just coffee to lean against the wall and watch Calum strum a guitar and sing—her personal favorites were original songs he’d written like Never Be, Everything I Didn’t Say, The Girl Who Cried Wolf, and Moving Along and his covers of Stay by Post Malone and Blink-182’s I Miss You—and just moseyed on along to go to class or her shift at the store instead of looking like some stalker. But Annette couldn’t help it—she was a fan. Granted, she was no expert in the music industry, but Annette liked what she listened to, and there was no doubt in her mind that Calum was insanely talented. She knew everyone who came to Blue’s who was lucky enough to witness him perform, and the management that loved the patrons he was drawing in, would think the same thing.
There were often moments where she wished she grew the confidence in saying something to him—just a mere compliment of how good he was or something. It wasn’t like he was a world known musician, maybe a kind comment from a stranger would’ve made him smile, at the very least. But there was something about Calum that made him appear like the rockstar that he was probably meant to be. With his unruly dark curls, domineering height, tattooed skin, and sharp eyes that took in every face in the crowd, not to mention the overwhelming artistry that seemed to just ooze out of his pores, Calum Hood was a stature Annette wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared to approach. Sure, she’d seen people compliment him after he got off the stage with his guitar being gripped by ring clad fingers, had gotten glimpses of almost reserved smiles she felt were too quiet for someone who owned such loud talent, but she knew she wasn’t ready to actually face him herself.
So she listened and admired from afar, even though she desperately yearned to do so much more.
“You look like you got an hour’s worth of sleep last night.” Annette huffed as she shot Luke a look, settling down in her seat once he took his backpack off and dropped it on the floor so she could sit. Apparently a few days into the semester and some students thought it was okay to steal her unofficial-official seat.
Annette leaned back against the chair once she had her laptop in front of her and had taken off her favorite red framed and lensed sunglasses and Beats, letting out a drawn out sigh that carried the weight of her exhaustion. “Because I think I did,” she responded tiredly, the silvery tone she normally spoke in coming out as a heavy drawl. “Work didn’t let out until ten and I had a paper due at midnight and then Poe got sick and—” Annette cut herself off with a complaining groan, though she kept the sound quiet as people filtered into the classroom, sinking into her chair. “I’m ready to drop dead, honestly.”
“At least it’s the weekend, right?” Luke responded with an encouraging raise of his eyebrows, knowing Annette only worked the weekdays as he tapped his fingers against the sleek top of the desk. When she crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes and nodding, Luke offered a smile. “Couple of my friends are throwing a party in the East Village tonight. Bring whoever you want, yeah? It’ll be fun.”
Opening her eyes, Annette looked at her blue eyed friend, smiling at his offer as she modestly replied, “I wouldn’t wanna intrude—”
Luke snorted out a laugh, shooting her a look as their professor entered the room. “You’re not intruding if I’m inviting you. It’ll be great—there’s a karaoke machine.”
At that, the tattooed girl sputtered with her eyebrows shooting up as she instantly shook her head. “I don’t sing.”
He rolled his eyes, lifting his hands to gather up his blonde curls and pull them back into a bun, the too hot temperature in the classroom making even his barely shoulder length hair impossible to not tie back. “Then you can watch the rest of us act like idiots.” Raising his eyebrows he asked, “You in?”
Annette thought about it for a moment; she had planned to curl up in bed with Poe at her side and her laptop on so she could get some writing done, having barely any time for it with work and classes already kicking her ass. But, honestly, she wasn’t entirely inspired or motivated to actually sit and bust out a few words; maybe a party and being around people would help with that. She was always looking for new inspiration to hit, so maybe this would be good. She’d been in a bit of a rut lately, always ending up staring at a blank page or not knowing how to continue with what she already had. It was starting to get frustrating; stepping away sounded like the way to go.
So she smiled at Luke and nodded, “I’m in,” before sending a quick text to her roommate-slash-cousin Colin to recruit him for tonight. If anyone was willing to accompany her to a party, it was him.
When Annette reached for her plastic cup of strawberry iced tea, sipping the drink through the straw, Luke’s eyes dropped to the cup before humming, “I love Blue’s. They’ve got some great talent.”
She grinned, eyes dropping to the cup that said the restaurant’s name in script and the color of its namesake, as she played with the clear straw. Calum’s face flashed through her mind, the sound of his voice singing through her ears as she responded in absent thought, “I know.”
As the class settled, Luke propped his elbow on his desk and leaned his cheek against his palm, quirking his eyebrow as he asked, “You’ve got a favorite?”
Annette bit the inside of her lower lip as their professor pulled up the PowerPoint for today’s lecture. Oh, she definitely did have a favorite.
*****
“Hey, come inside for a sec.” Luke’s voice pulled Annette from her conversation with his friend Ashton, his friend Michael’s girlfriend Crystal, and Colin. The four of them were on the balcony of Ashton’s apartment, a few other people lingering about as the music playing from inside flowed outside to where they stood. Annette had only gotten to the party about twenty minutes ago, and had already met most of Luke’s friends, including his girlfriend Sierra, and so far she was enjoying herself as a refreshing September breeze tickled her skin. And she was enjoying the tequila, too. She looked at Luke, who was in the doorway of the balcony with a drink in his hand. His eyes met Annette’s as he added, “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Annette responded slowly, unsurely, as she excused herself from the little group she was among. She walked towards Luke, who stepped back into the apartment to let her inside as she held her half empty glass of a margarita, raising an eyebrow at her tall friend. “Who’re we meeting?”
“A good friend of mine,” Luke smiled as they maneuvered their way through the living room, heading towards the kitchen. There were many people around, not as suffocating as a bustling house party that Annette was used to as everyone enjoyed each other’s company, danced to the music that was playing, though not entirely resembling a rambunctious frat house. Annette liked this better. Shooting her a dazzling, dimpled grin, Luke added reassuringly, “You’ll love him.”
Her curious expression never washed away as she nodded along, letting him lead her towards the kitchen. They stepped up towards the center island, which was decorated with a nice spread of cups and bottles of various kinds of alcohols and mixers, and stopped in front of a guy with his back turned towards them as he fixed himself a drink. His broad leather jacket covered back hindered Annette from seeing what he was making, glancing at Luke who smiled.
“This is Calum—Cal, this is my friend, Annette,” the blonde introduced, gesturing between the two people, and upon hearing his name, the man in front of them turned around, but it was long before Annette saw his face that she realized who he was. Right when Luke had said his name, realization clicked in Annette’s mind as she recognized the back of the guy’s head of short curls, now that he had been named.
Brown eyes met Annette’s bluish-brown and suddenly she found her heart in her throat because she’d never been this close to him before. Never had she been given the opportunity to look at his dark eyes, always standing at the other side of the cafe to merely listen and watch him play. But it was no surprise that the brown of his eyes, so dark that they almost melted into the pupil, was just as bewitching as the sound of his voice as she felt her throat dry when she looked into them. Annette had known Calum was tall as he towered in front of her, though his height was not entirely as domineering as Luke’s—she doubted anyone’s was—yet still she felt small in his presence.
Whoever invented the phrase tall, dark and handsome probably pictured Calum in mind.
His lips quirked up, a polite smile lifting his cheeks as he gazed at her. Annette could feel her body flush even though he wasn’t even doing anything. “Nice to meet you,” Calum spoke, his familiar voice just as smooth without a microphone amplifying the hint of a rasp in which he spoke with. He’d been lifting his cup as he spoke, taking a sip once he was finished and Annette noticed how his eyebrows furrowed subtly as he continued to look at her. Lowering his cup, lips glistening from his drink, Calum thoughtfully remarked, “I think I’ve seen you ’round before.”
Oh, her heart had found residency in her throat. He recognized her, and no matter how vague his recollection may be, the mere acknowledgment that she was a familiar face to him was exciting. Annette wasn’t entirely sure if it was because she was pathetically enamored with a guy who wasn’t even a celebrity, though he felt like one to her, or if it was because of how ridiculously attractive he was. Maybe because he was just so talented and actually being able to speak to him was ridiculous to her. Maybe it was all of it.
“Uh, at Blue’s, maybe?” Annette offered, pretending as though she had no idea where he could’ve possibly seen her before, knowing full well that’s exactly where. The way Calum blinked in realization was too adorable.
“Annette’s seen a bunch of your performances, dude,” Luke chimed in, a knowing tone lilting the smile in his voice and it wasn’t until Annette glanced at him, saw the glint in his blue eyes, did it click in her mind what he was doing. She couldn’t even help the way her eyes narrowed at him, though Luke was smart enough to keep his gaze purposefully locked on Calum.
Still, the need for damage control was prominent, and as Annette forced herself to drag her glare away from Luke and wipe it off by the time her eyes met Calum’s, she managed to say, “Just a few.” Nobody had to know she was downplaying the fact that she watched as many of his performances as she could. Coming off as a stalker wasn’t the kind of first impression Annette wanted to give off—not that she even knew there’d be an impression to give off in the first place. Damn it, Luke. Was he trying to embarrass her? Free hand nervously sliding into the back pocket of her shorts, Annette found herself adding truthfully, “You’re really good.”
Calum nodded, the smallest of smiles upturning his pressed together lips, and Annette couldn’t help but feeling as though he was forcing himself to do so. Like he appreciated the compliment, but it also didn’t mean much to him. “Appreciate it,” he responded, because he had to, because it was etiquette, and Annette felt something uncomfortable stir in the pit of her stomach. Uncomfortable, embarrassed, and, frankly, affronted. Though she wasn’t too sure she had the right to feel that last one. Calum’s eyes shifted over her head, looking at something behind her as he raised unexpressed eyebrows and his cup as well, using a finger to point at something as he added quickly, “Excuse me, there’s—I’m being called over.”
He walked around her and while Annette knew that it was probably nothing personal against her—they didn’t know each other for it to be—she still felt her skin flush with an embarrassed and mildly offended heat of being brushed off like that. Her lips pressed together, staring at the spot Calum had stood in, wondering if she was even allowed to feel this way because Calum was only someone she enjoyed listening to at Blue’s. He didn’t owe her a conversation or anything. Yet the offense of his less than polite behavior, no matter how brief the interaction, still had her stomach twisting uncomfortably. And then it would cycle into her reprimanding herself for being so sensitive.
Fuck. Why couldn’t she just figure out and agree on what she was feeling?
“Shit—Sorry about him.” Luke’s apology pulled Annette out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the friend she’d only recently made to see Luke frowning over in whatever direction Calum had walked off in. He looked down at her blue eyes meeting her slightly darker ones, the disappointment clear in his irises as he let out a breath. “He’s normally not like that, I swear. I don’t know what’s up with him.”
Annette gave a dismissive shake of her head, offering Luke what she hoped came off as a reassuring smile. Because she had a feeling Luke knew exactly what was going on with his friend, but he didn’t owe her an explanation. Just like Calum didn’t owe her a conversation; maybe Annette was just being overly sensitive for no reason. “Never meet your heroes, huh?” she said jokingly, and she half meant it. Calum wasn’t her hero—that just sounded ridiculous and overdramatic. He was just some guy who played at her local cafe, that’s all. Still, this wasn’t how she’d imagined their first meeting to go—not that she really thought she’d actually get the chance to talk to him.
Luke let out an airy chuckle, and Annette could tell he felt just as miffed and even slightly embarrassed about that brief interaction as she did. But it was whatever. Not a big deal. “Come on, let me get you a refill,” Luke said after glancing at her nearly finished drink, and she grasped onto that change of topic with both hands and stepped towards the countertop full of drinks.
As he made Annette her drink of choice of a Malibu, she noted the purse of his lips and a small smile quirked at her lips. “It’s not a big deal, Luke,” she told him truthfully. Sure, Calum basically walking away wasn’t what she’d thought would happen, but what could you do? Annette wasn’t one to hold grudges or hold onto any negative emotions for too long. Life was too short to be bothered by something for too long.
Luke glanced at her from where he stood on the other side of the counter, a whole head and a half taller than the girl next to him making her own drink, and shot Annette a small smile. “So much for first impressions, huh?”
*****
“Oh, there’s Annette.” Calum glanced up from his laptop from where he was doing his composition homework, gaze landing on Luke sitting across from him at their table in Blue’s. But his blonde friend was looking off to his right and Calum followed his gaze, eyes landing on the mention girl.
She stood on line to order, her red Beats deafening her to the world around her as she kept herself busy on her phone. For a moment, Calum found himself wondering how he’d never seen her around before; she was gorgeous, with thick blonde hair that curled at the bottom, a couple of tattoos inking the skin of her left arm, and a smile he’d gotten to see the other night at Ashton’s party before he’d abruptly left the conversation. Something Luke had reprimanded him on after the fact.
Calum watched her as she took a step forward on the line, adjusting her headphones before returning her attention to her phone. He looked away as well, brown eyes meeting Luke’s blue ones, blinking at the expectant expression on his friend’s face. “I think you should apologize to her.”
Eyebrows scrunching upwards, Calum scoffed as he leaned back in his seat and asked, “What for?”
Luke shot him a pointed look, aware that he didn’t have to answer that question because Calum knew the answer. His interaction with Annette had been quite brief all because Calum hadn’t really wanted to engage in a conversation. It hadn’t been anything personal against her; Calum had just wanted to stick to those he knew, be around his friends who already knew him well enough to know if he acted cold, it wasn’t their fault. It was just the mood he was in. That day hadn’t been the best, and after Luke introduced him to Annette, Calum had spent the rest of the party escaped up onto the roof, with the only thing keeping him company being his cigarettes.
“Listen, man,” Luke spoke up before Calum could say anything, letting out a sigh and crossing his arms on the table. He looked at him with an almost hopeful expression. “I wouldn’t care if it was anyone else, but Annette’s my friend, alright? And when she told me you were her, like, favorite musician here I thought it’d be cool if you two met. So when you brushed her off it just—it didn’t leave a good impression, you know?”
Pursing his lips, Calum took a breath at Luke’s words. The knowledge of him being someone Annette genuinely enjoyed listening to actually did make him feel like a bit of an asshole for the way he’d just walked away from her. Though, to be fair, if he’d stuck around then their interaction may have gone worse.
Just wrong timing, Calum figured. He always appreciated when people at Blue’s, or anyone really, told him they enjoyed listening to him perform. It gave him the push to continue on doing so, to come to Blue’s whenever he could and get up on the small stage and sing his songs and covers for the patrons. Calum figured he’d probably still do it if he wasn’t getting paid; the money was just a bonus on top of the positive feedback he received.
Yeah. He was kind of a jerk for brushing off someone who’d done nothing except for compliment him.
With Luke’s gaze burning into him, Calum let out a heavy breath of, “For fuck’s sake,” before pushing back his chair and standing up. He ignored the happy smile on Luke’s face as he made his way around the spread out tables, figuring the sooner he apologized to Annette, the sooner Luke would get off his back.
He got to where Annette was standing just as it was her turn to order, and Calum worked quickly as he pulled out his wallet and just as the cashier, Rick, told Annette the total, Calum announced his presence by offering his card and saying, “It’s on me.”
Annette blinked at him, startled, too surprised to object at the sudden offer as Rick, obviously knowing who Calum was, took the card and completed the transaction. Once Calum’s card was returned, he put it back in his wallet and shoved the leather accessory back in the pocket of his pants, gaze finally sliding over to Annette who was staring at him in bewilderment.
Her lips, pink and glossy, parted. “You—” she began, only to cut herself off as she glanced over her shoulder and stepped to the side, Calum following suit, to let the next customer place their order. Calum followed Annette to stand at the end of the counter where her order would be placed, watching as she took her headphones off and let them hang around her neck as she looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Calum shrugged, hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he told her, “Consider it a peace offering. I hadn’t given the best of impressions at the party.”
He watched as Annette rolled her lips into her mouth, tapping her nails against the back of her phone as she considered his words. Her gaze, then, went around Calum’s friend to look at something behind him, and he noted the subtle quirk at one corner of her mouth as she lifted her chain. “Is the peace offering your idea or Luke’s?”
The musician pursed his lips, knowing she was valid in asking that question. What was more was that she didn’t make it sound rude, just genuine curiosity as her gaze met Calum’s once more, the questioning clear in the way she raised an eyebrow. Pressing his lips together, Calum let out a quick breath through his nose before answering her truthfully, “It was Luke’s idea that I come over. The drink really is on me.” Realizing he hadn’t actually done what Luke had asked for him, Calum added, “But I am sorry for acting the way I did.”
To his surprise, Annette twisted her lips to the side before giving a shrug. “You don’t have to apologize, honestly, though I appreciate it. It’s not a big deal—definitely not something to feel bad about.”
For a moment, Calum kept his gaze on her, eyes twitching ever so slightly to narrow as he considered Annette, trying to see if she genuinely meant her words or was just saying them to be nice. He wasn’t going to lie—he kind of agreed with her. It wasn’t a big deal, and while he was sorry for dismissing her the way he had and while he could’ve been nicer, it was too short of an interaction for him to feel an immense amount of guilt for. Sure, their first meeting was only cut short because of Calum himself, but wasn’t he allowed bad days? He’d only come to the party because his best friend was throwing it, and it made Calum feel less like a loser to have the reason of wanting to have fun so he could drink, and he really hadn’t been in the mood to meet new people and entertain them. What was so wrong about that?
Unlike Luke, Annette’s answer seemed to be absolutely nothing.
Maybe he got lucky with such a forgiving person.
Before Calum could say anything, Rick had called out Annette’s name and she received her iced coffee, turning to look at Calum with an appreciative smile as she held up the clear cup. “Thanks for the caffeine.” Her smile was sweet and still Calum felt something uncomfortable twist his stomach as she added, “I’ve got class. I’ll uh,” Annette paused, eyes darting before she looked at him once more, “see you around.”
She gave a nod before stepping away, fixing her headphones with one hand as she turned around and walked to the door, ignoring the way Calum’s gaze burned into her back. The frown involuntarily pulled his eyebrows together once she left, feeling a bit unsatisfied over an interaction he hadn’t really wanted to partake in the first place. He hadn’t really wanted to apologize, but there had been a part of Calum that felt a bit badly about their initial meeting, so he listened to Luke and now. . . It kind of felt as though Annette didn’t really care enough.
The tables seemed to have turned and it was unsettling.
*****
“This is a cute idea,” Annette hummed as she entered Blue’s after Sierra, Colin and Luke right behind them. She’d never come to the cafe during the nighttime, eyes taking in the place that looked transformed, unfamiliar than to what it looked like during the day. There were blue string lights lining the edges where the walls and ceiling met, providing the only light in the cafe save for the white spotlights on the stage. It was more crowded than normal, a pleasant buzz of chatter in the air as well as the occasional whir of the blender behind the counter as the employees made the drinks on order.
Apparently Blue’s, along with paying local artists to perform at their cafe during the day, had a showcase kind of thing every other month—which Annette had been oblivious to until Luke brought it up a few days back. Blue’s had all the artists they paid come together for one night every other month and perform for the patrons and would get paid extra, and sometimes there would be people who worked at record labels and scouts always looking for new talent in attendance, which Annette thought was pretty cool and a good opportunity for exposure.
“I’m surprised you haven’t come to one of these before,” Luke said to her as they walked in, him standing taller than everyone else as his eyes darted around in hopes to find the friends they were here to meet.
Annette huffed, a bit miffed at her own ignorance of this kind of event. She loved watching all of the musicians Blue’s employed, so being able to watch them all in one night sounded so great and she’d been missing out on it. Next to her, Colin snickered. “You’d think being a groupie for all the performers you’d know about this.”
That invited a round of laughter from Luke and Sierra, and Annette made a protesting sound before elbowing her cousin’s side, though it didn’t erase the all too amused smirk from his face. People around them moved, either talking to others or trying to find a table, and Sierra suddenly spoke up, “There they are.”
She started moving, the rest of them following after her as she led them to a table where they spotted Calum, Ashton, Michael and their girlfriends. They’d joined two tables together, enough to fit all nine of them, and greetings were thrown about as the four of them reached the others. Annette settled down on the chair next to Ashton after he gave her a friendly side-hug as Luke spoke up, “You ready, man?”
Annette’s gaze drifted to Calum, who sat on one end of the table, furthest from her as he offered a nod. He looked at ease, comfortable in a black and white Elvis shirt with the neckline lined by his chain necklace, hands resting on his lap beneath the table. Unsurprisingly, he looked good, Annette instantly noticed; she’d offered him a brief greeting when they’d arrived—nothing against him, truthfully, but because she figured that’s what he’d want.
When he apologized to her the other day, Annette knew it was Luke’s doing—a fact she’d flicked him off for the next time they had class together. To be fair, Calum had looked a bit miffed for his off-mood when they’d met, and the more Annette had thought about it after, the more she realized she had no reason to actually be embarrassed or anything. People were allowed bad days, they were allowed to turn down conversations if they weren’t feeling up for it, especially if it was with a stranger. It hadn’t been the most pleasant of first meetings, but it wasn’t something Annette couldn’t get over. She’d learned, over the years, what things were worth lamenting over and what were small enough to let go. Her first meeting with Calum had been the latter.
Still, him coming up to her to apologize to her had been kind of unexpected. But then she figured out Luke had been the one to push Calum to do it, and while Calum hadn’t delivered a half hearted apology, Annette could tell he wasn’t a hundred percent keen on doing it. And, in some way, him being forced to talk to her a second time was more embarrassing than the first time. She kind of hated her ability to read people so clearly up close. If the action had an off switch, Annette would keep it taped.
So, naturally, when she joined the group—after Luke’s inspired begging for her to come along—she’d greeted Calum with a quick and friendly smile before settling on the stool. No more forced interactions this time around.
“Yeah,” Calum responded to Luke’s question, leaning forward enough to prop his elbows up on the low table, linking his ring clad fingers in front of him, the metal of his chain bracelet hitting the wooden table as he rested his hands down. With a shrug and a small, brief smile he added, “’S not a big deal.”
It was a modest response, Annette noticed, which only reminded her of how comfortable Calum probably was on a stage, even a small one at some cafe chain in New York. She’d certainly witnessed his ease when she caught a performance, but to actually be within his company right before he went on stage was a side she never thought she’d be privy to, and was taking in intently. In the presence of his friends, Annette could see the relaxation of Calum’s broad shoulders, dark eyes almost gentle as he listened to his friends chatter around him. He didn’t look on edge like he had the night of the party, eyes darting and fingers around his cup tight; right now, it was easy to pick up on the air of calmness that surrounded Calum like a bubble.
“Are you performing anything new?” Michael questioned, sitting directly opposite of Annette.
Letting out a breath, Calum subtly raised an eyebrow as he responded, “I’d have to have something new written to perform it.” With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Calum added, “Think I’m gonna go with San Francisco.”
Before she could help it, Annette chimed in, “That’s a good one.”
She pressed her lips together after the comment slipped, though it was an honest one. Annette had heard Calum perform that song a while back, thought the lyrics and guitar and his voice were lovely when he played it, and the prospect of listening to it again was exciting. Except she hadn’t really meant to make herself known, her words drawing Calum’s attention towards her as his brown eyes met her bluish ones, like he hadn’t expected her to say anything, either. Annette fiddled with her thumbs under the table, forcing her closed mouth to lift into the smallest of smiles at Calum as a way of appeasing his intense stare.
But Calum offered a small smile, a real one, as he responded with a simple, “Thanks.”
Soon enough, the small exhibition started, and Blue’s fell silent as the first performer of the night got up on stage. A couple of them were familiar faces for Annette, having seen them during the occasions where she came by and Calum wasn’t playing, but there were also a few she hadn’t ever seen before. Everyone was pretty good, had their own style and genre of music that they worked into the welcoming environment of Blue’s, and Annette found herself swaying gently to every person’s song or ballad.
And then it was Calum’s turn to go up, being introduced warmly and familiarly by the manager as a household name, and their table’s cheers were the loudest as he picked up his guitar and headed towards the stage, returning Luke’s fist bump as he made his way up. Annette shifted in her seat, as if physically preparing herself to listen to Calum perform a song she’s heard before. She felt as though her eagerness and excitement was radiating off of her, the sensation familiar as it was what she experienced whenever she came to pick up some coffee before work or class and Calum was at Blue’s, right up on the stage like he was right now.
The entirety of Blue’s was dark, save for the blue lights for the ambiance, and the bright lights on Calum as he settled on the stool in front of the microphone, his sleek guitar on his lap. Annette’s eyes were glued on him, much like everyone else’s, but unlike the rest of them, she was taking in every detail her eyes would allow her to. She observed the way his tongue poked out to swipe his bottom lip, rolling it into his mouth as he made sure the microphone was leveled. The bright lights shone against his skin, glinting against the chains he wore, and Calum needed a second to adjust his eyes to the beams and Annette wondered if he could see the faces waiting for him as his gaze swept over in front of him.
With his left hand holding the neck of the guitar on his lap, Calum offered a close mouthed, humbled smile. “Evenin’, everyone,” he started, his voice amplified by the microphone as the deep and gentle rasp of his voice resounded. “I’m Calum and, uh, tonight I’m gonna play an original called San Francisco.” Annette watched his right hand move into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a guitar pick as he offered another quick smile. “Hope you like it.”
Calum started playing the chords to the song and Annette took in a quiet breath as the familiar tune reached her ears. Then Calum leaned towards the microphone, lips parting as he began singing lyrics that he’d written, and Annette wondered if she was the only one feeling goosebumps rise on her skin at the sound of his smooth, rich voice resounding around the cafe. Unlike the other times Annette has watched Calum perform at Blue’s, it was utterly silent as everyone’s attention was on him as opposed to when he played during regular business hours and there was a quiet buzz of chatter.
Now, though, everyone was listening to him, their focus solely on him as his ring clad fingers effortlessly played the guitar, and Annette was completely entranced as she watched him, lips parting absently as she listened. The emotion Calum sang with made his performance all the more enchanting, and not for the first time did Annette wonder what experience Calum went through to write a song like this—something she wondered every time she heard him perform an original song.
Annette was creative in her own right, could make up stories and characters and create a whole world out of them, but writing a song wasn’t something she could be able to do. And she was always left in awe when she listened to the songs Calum chose to share, many of them about love and then losing that love, and it often ached Annette’s heart when she listened to them. The pain he delicately and beautifully described in his songs was almost familiar to Annette, having faced loss in her life before, and she often found herself wishing Calum hadn’t had to deal with something like that. Which was ridiculous, because she didn’t know him, and life wasn’t that simple. That didn’t stop Annette from wishing it was.
Next to her, she could feel Ashton lightly drumming along to Calum’s song with his hands slapping against his thighs under the table, head subtly bopping to the music. Although she didn’t want to take her eyes off of Calum, Annette still glanced around, took in the way everyone in the room was hooked on Calum and his music, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. She didn’t know him, but she was proud.
*****
“What are you drinking?”
Annette looked up at Calum once she heard him, patiently waiting to get the bartender’s attention, and he watched the way she blinked at him once before raising her eyebrows gently. Then, with a small smile, she asked, “Are you apologizing for something?”
Pressing the tip of his tongue to the back of his bottom teeth, Calum let out an airy chuckle, knowing she was referring to when he bought her that iced coffee as a way of making up for his behavior at the party. “No,” Calum told her truthfully, left elbow resting against the bar top as he faced the shorter blonde girl. “Just, uh, tryin’ to be nice, I guess.”
Calum had no reason not to be nice to Annette, and since she was basically Luke’s new best friend, Calum knew he couldn’t be an asshole to her without reason. She’d never given him a reason to act the way he did, and she really was a nice girl from what he could tell. Calum had seen her during his performance earlier tonight, had seen the way her eyes seemed to be glued to her in unabashed awe, and it only made him further understand that she genuinely did enjoy his music.
Just because he was miserable more than half the time, didn’t give him the right to treat others like that.
He saw her smile widen just a bit at her words, eyes flickering to the row of bottles behind the bar before telling Calum, “Rum and Coke.”
Flagging the bartender down, Calum relayed her order and added in his own. They were at a bar a couple of blocks away from Blue’s, the group of them shifting over after the performances were over around ten at night. The weekend permitted them to go out, though Calum didn’t plan on staying too late.
“So be honest.” He dragged Annette’s attention once more, and Calum could just barely see the hint of dark blue that lined the outer of her otherwise brown irises. In that moment, he absently decided she had the most interesting eyes he’d ever seen. “Did you think I was an asshole when we first met?”
“I—what?” The startled laugh that Annette released upon hearing Calum’s question wasn’t entirely expected, her eyebrows shooting up as she leaned back a bit. But he kept looking at her, raising his own eyebrows to let her know that he was, frankly, asking a genuine question, because he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. When Annette realized how serious he was, the smile on her face faltered a bit as she shook her head. “No, I didn’t. That’s just—that would be an extreme reaction, Calum. I’m not that sensitive.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, finger absently prodding at the bartop, nail scraping against a crack on it. “But I did, like, make you feel bad, didn’t I? To some extent?”
Annette looked at him, and Calum tried to remain neutral and unaffected by the subtle narrowing of her eyes as she took him apart with her gaze. She was trying to figure him out and Calum couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed because she was doing it so. . . Kindly. Her gaze was gentle, welcoming, like she didn’t want to alarm him or put him off as she tried to figure him out. Calum wondered what kind of magical fucking powers Annette possessed to keep him feeling comfortable even as her mind picked him apart. Maybe it was the glittering of her eyes, or the soft way she looked at him. Because even with her thick blonde hair and long lashes and tattoos, she still reminded Calum of soft.
“Are you trying to make yourself feel guilty about it again?” Annette asked, and this time Calum did feel himself freeze at her words. Had it really been that easy for her to figure him out? Or was she just generally that good at reading people? She gazed up at him, earnest and true. “Because I told you, Calum, it wasn’t a big deal. It happened and it’s over. Honestly—it’s not a big deal.” With an easy, light laugh, Annette added, “Don’t make it seem like you, like, bitched me out or something. It’s all good.”
She was terribly easy going, Calum realized, as the bartender handed them their drinks. Not the type to hold a grudge, it seemed.
Honestly, Calum wasn’t entirely sure why he was bringing it up again, wasn’t sure where the lingering guilt was coming from—or if guilt was too strong of a word. Maybe he just still felt bad? Especially after he saw how much Annette seemed to enjoy his single song performance at Blue’s. Through the bright spotlights at the cafe, Calum had been able to make out the faces of his friends once his eyes had adjusted, and while their encouraging smiles had been expected and welcome, Calum had also took in the way Annette had been watching him.
It unexpectedly warmed him. He knew it wasn’t the heat from the lights.
So, yeah. He suddenly found himself wanting to start a clean slate. Even if he started off thinking he didn’t care.
It was something about her eyes. Calum was certain of it.
“Come on,” Annette cut through his thoughts, lifting up her glass with an easy going smile lifting her pink lips. “To friends of friends.”
At that, Calum let out a quiet chuckle, quirking an eyebrow as the bar buzzed around them. The music was loud and people were chattering all over, but Calum’s eyes were on Annette’s smiling ones. “Think we can cut the middle man out here,” he told her with a small smile of his own. Annette raised her eyebrows, soft smile ever present, as Calum raised his glass as well, clinking it with hers as he corrected, “To being friends.”
*****
When Annette received her drink and turned around to head towards the door, she stopped when her eyes landed on the familiar face sitting at a table near the windows. It wasn’t hard because Calum was already looking at her, laptop in front of him but gaze on her as he raised his hand in a single wave, and Annette felt a smile tug at her lips.
She made her way over to him, because now she could, now they were friends. Ever since the event here at Blue’s and their conversation at the bar after, a friendship had been established between the two of them, discarding their first meeting all together in hopes of moving forward. He leaned forward in his chair as she approached him, arms folded and a small smile tilted his lips once she got to him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Annette greeted with a teasing grin, standing beside the round table.
Calum chuckled quietly, lifting his hand and tilting his head to let his fingers mess up his slightly unruly curls. “You headed to class?” he questioned, looking up at her with dark brown eyes that reminded Annette too much of chocolate.
“No,” she responded with a shake of her head. “I just finished a shift, actually, and I needed my after-work caffeine.”
He quirked an eyebrow as he asked, “So you’ve got nowhere to be?” Her smile returned at the knowing tone of his voice, felt something pathetically flutter in the pit of her stomach as she hummed out a no with a shake of her head and he gestured to the empty seat across from him. As she settled down, Calum���s eyes took in her drink visible through the transparent cup, and he raised his eyebrows before letting out an amused scoff. “That’s the. . . Froofiest drink I’ve ever seen.”
Annette let out a protesting, mock-insulted laugh as she defended, “Hey, don’t make fun of my drink.” She took a sip through the straw, watching Calum watch her with scrunched eyebrows raised and a bemused expression on his face. “It’s a passion iced tea. With blackberries.”
Calum, still, was not still not impressed. “It’s purple,” he deadpanned.
With a scoff, Annette said with a small pout, “Don’t make fun of my froo-froo drink.” Jutting her chin at his cup, she narrowed her eyes challengingly and mocked, “What about you? Black coffee is boring.”
Calum wasn’t offended or apologetic. “It’s normal. No froo-froo.”
Annette’s smile returned, unable to keep the teasing lilt in her voice. “Everyone needs a little froo-froo in their life.” She couldn’t hope to keep a serious expression on her face, the laughter bubbling past. Annette’s chest tightened happily when she managed to get a laugh out of him in response. A breathy, raspy sound that was short yet did show his amusement with the conversation. She wondered what he sounded like when he laughed with everything in him.
Their conversation moved on as Calum asked her about work, the noise of the cafe melting into the background, breaking every so often when the barista at the counter called out a customer’s name whenever their drink was ready. Annette had realized that talking to Calum, once she adjusted her nerves, was pretty easy. He was easy to talk to, once he decided he wanted to actually hold a conversation, and Annette felt pretty good about the fact that he actually wanted to talk to her.
That was probably pathetic, she knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She liked talking to him, liked listening to the sound of his voice when he wasn’t singing, just as smooth and rich as he engaged with her. Calum talked leisurely, like he was in no rush, and he listened just like that, too. As if he had all of the time in the world to listen to whatever Annette was saying, and it was a complete change from when they met that first night. And it only proved to her that she’d caught him on a bad day, that the Calum from that party wasn’t how he actually treated people, but the one sitting across from her was a more honest and true version of him.
The way he stared at her as they talked was something Annette knew would take some time getting used to. His dark eyes stayed on her lighter ones, as if he was taking in every detail while also listening, and Annette often found herself with a dry throat, in need of clearing it to keep herself grounded. It was dangerously easy getting lost because of Calum’s stare. She wondered how many others had fallen victim to it.
“The Great British Baking Show? Really?” Annette asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as a disbelieving grin spread at her lips. She was gaping at Calum, who huffed with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned at her, though no true defiance was present.
“Why’s that so hard to believe?” he returned, obviously not getting why his admittance to one of his guilty pleasures was so shocking.
Annette laughed, good humored and melodious as she gave a shake of her head. “I just can’t picture you watching something like that. It’s just—there’s no image in my head,” she said with a laugh, her words only causing Calum to roll his eyes.
“Come over one day and then you’ll be able to—”
“Liana!”
Calum instantly cut himself off as the barista’s voice cut through his words, prompting Annette to raise her eyebrows in slight startlement at the unexpected stop. She watched him, eyebrows lowering slowly into a frown as his dark eyed gaze remained behind her in the direction of the counter, all previous lightheartedness completely vanishing from his expression. Brown eyes wide, there was a hint of alarm swimming in them as Calum pressed his lips together, the muscle in his jaw jumping, clearly looking like a man who didn’t like what he was seeing. There was a rigidness in his features, tight and uncomfortable with drawn together eyes lifted and worry reluctantly seeping into his eyes as well.
His lips parted, still looking behind Annette as he quietly breathed out, “Fuck’s sake.”
Calum’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he clenched his jaw once more and Annette grew more concerned over his suddenly irate demeanor, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was exasperated or just wanted to disappear from sight altogether. Hesitantly, Annette asked, “Are you okay?” Slowly, she turned around to see what he was staring so intensely at. “What’re you looking at?”
It wasn’t that busy during this time in the late evening at Blue’s, so Annette’s gaze went directly towards one of the few women she saw standing in the general direction Calum had been staring at. She was pretty, with dark brown hair just a little past her shoulders and legs that looked spectacular in the jeans she was wearing. The woman stood talking to a guy by the counter and Annette guessed he was waiting for his order or something, and with a curious quirk of her brow, she kept her questioning gaze on them as she asked Calum, “Do you know her?”
“Yeah,” came Calum’s response, slow and gruff, his change of tone as surprising as his fallen expression. “You can say that.”
As if hearing Calum’s voice from where she stood, Annette caught the way the woman’s head turned and gaze looked right past her—and right at the man Annette was sharing a table with. Even from where she sat, Annette saw the recognition flash across the other girl’s face, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before they widened in realization.
And then Annette watched her touch the arm of the guy she was with as she said something to him, before she began making her way over, and Annette’s eyebrows raised as she turned back in her seat to face Calum and matter-of-factly said, “Yeah, ’cause she definitely knows you.”
Her gaze finally landed on Calum, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at Blue’s in that moment. Annette could tell he was struggling to school his expression, the tightness born out of frustration and something else fighting to make itself known on his face, and she couldn’t help but frown at him. Clearly whoever the woman making their way over to him was, was not someone Calum wanted to deal with as his hands wrapped around the edge of his laptop screen, and Annette was briefly worried he was going to snap it in half just as the woman stepped up to the table.
“Calum, hi.” She spoke in a friendly tone, though without even knowing her, Annette could pick up the subtle hesitance lying underneath. Glancing up at her, she saw the girl—Annette guessed her name was Liana, given that was the name that had Calum getting all closed up—nervously grab the strap of her back with her free hand, the other holding her drink. Her honey colored eyes swept over to Annette, a small smile present. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.” She looked back at Calum once Annette offered a no worries type of smile. Was it bad to say she was curious as to what was going on? Looking back at Calum, Liana said, “I just saw you and I, uh, wanted to come say hi.” She bit her lower lip hesitantly. “How are you?”
Liana seemed to genuinely want to know, and Annette’s eyebrows lowered ever so slightly as she watched the two of them. Calum had leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and Annette had a feeling it was his way of defending himself from whatever weight this conversation was about to bring. Annette felt as though she was intruding, but getting up now would be too obvious and awkward.
“We’re not friends, Liana.” If Annette had thought Calum was cold towards her during their first meeting, it made that interaction look impeccable in terms of Calum’s demeanor now. She eyed him, silent in concern, at the edge that had bit into his tone and the way his eyes were suddenly void of all emotion. It was unnerving how good he was at that; like Calum had just flipped a switch and was able to hide everything he was feeling that had the chance of showing itself on his face. It was all gone, replaced by uninterested blankness with the creeping edge of dismissal and irritation. Those were the only emotions he allowed to convey, and Annette forced herself to remain a quiet presence. His gaze was sharp as he looked at the standing woman. “Wasn’t our last conversation meant to be our last?”
Annette pursed her lips, her gaze suddenly dropping to the table in front of her, like if she didn’t look at the two people, it’d be like she wasn’t listening in on the way Calum was completely shutting Liana down. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap, feeling the tension suddenly increase tenfold following Calum’s words. Annette understood that she had definitely caught Calum on a bad day the night of the party, because Liana was definitely not someone Calum wanted to be around at all. Annette felt bad for her; she hadn’t felt too great after Calum had walked away, she could only imagine how Liana was feeling.
There was a history there, that much was obvious, and Annette justifiably wondered what could’ve happened that had Calum talking to her like that.
Annette could see Liana shifting uncomfortably from her peripheral. “Come on, Calum,” she tried again, this time a nervous laugh escaping her. “It’s been—”
“Five months,” he cut in. Annette glanced up at him in enough time to see him say, “’S not long enough.”
She took a quiet breath when she noted the stare Calum was wearing: sharp, unforgiving, unapologetic. Annette wondered how Liana was still standing in the face of it, figuring that if she was on the receiving end of it, she would definitely turn and run away just because of the utter heat his glare was radiating. Holy shit—what had Liana done that warranted her such a hostile reaction from him?
Annette managed to look up, her gaze going to Liana, who had a defeated expression on her face that made the seated blonde feel sorry for her. Liana’s throat worked, her cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink, and Annette wondered why the woman didn’t snap back at Calum for speaking to her like that. Annette probably wasn’t one to say something like that, given how Calum had walked away from her the first time, but to be fair, their interaction wasn’t anywhere near as intense as this one. It was brief, quick, like ripping off a bandaid. This was almost too painful to watch.
Just as Annette thought that, she saw a shift in Liana in the way she tightened her jaw, blinking back the hurt Calum’s words enticed as she lifted her chin. With a calm tone that allowed for her own edge to creep in, Liana said to him, “If you remember the last time we spoke, then you remember what I said to you.” Her eyes gave him a once over, the corner of her lips quirking into the smallest of sneers, like she was disappointed but unsurprised with what she was looking at. “But I guess you didn’t listen. As usual.”
Annette saw the instant reaction Liana’s words invited on Calum’s face, the way his dark eyes narrowed instinctively, like he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. His jaw tightened. Like he was fighting to keep himself from reacting but couldn’t. Liana’s words, the meaning lost on Annette, clearly struck a harsh cord with Calum as his shoulders straightened, lips thinning as he fought the words threatening to escape.
But before Calum could say anything—Annette was sure she wouldn’t want to hear it—someone stepped up next to Liana and said, “Ready to go, babe?”
All eyes shifted to the newcomer, the guy Annette had seen with Liana earlier, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He seemed oblivious to the tension as he smiled at Liana, gaze sweeping over Annette and Calum as a second thought. He offered both of them friendly smiles, one Annette returned automatically before her gaze flickered to Calum instinctively, because she felt as though she needed to keep an eye on him.
And she was right to, because otherwise she would’ve missed the tightness of his jaw and the way his throat worked as he eyed the guy, or, more accurately, eyed the way his arm was around Liana. She watched Calum take in the sight of the couple, her eyebrows twitching together in a curious and concerned frown as she tried to figure out what Calum was feeling in that moment. To say he was bothered would be putting it lightly; he almost looked uncomfortable, defeated. . . Not surprised as he let out an airy scoff, nodding to himself as he leaned back.
His gaze dropped to his laptop screen, pulling one corner of his lip into his mouth, looking completely finished with this conversation and Annette frowned at him. What the hell was going on?
“Yeah,” she heard Liana say, her voice growing tight with agitation. “Bye, Calum. Sorry to interrupt.”
They left, their footsteps growing faint the further they moved away, melding into the low hum of the cafe as they exited, leaving behind an awkward silence Annette wasn’t sure how to ease. She took a look at Calum hesitantly, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she caught sight of him staring out the window to his right. The lights of the city reflected against the glass and his dark eyes, but the outside world melted into the late evening night as Annette watched the clench of his jaw and hardened eyes.
She had no idea who Liana was, but it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that there was some kind of intense history between her and Calum, and whatever Liana meant by her words had hit Calum more than he wanted them to. Annette parted her lips, hesitant, before pressing them together again. She found the courage quickly to gently ask, “Are you okay?”
Calum was silent for a moment. Then it was like something snapped in his head, motions quick and jerking as he shut his laptop, grunting out, “I need a drink.” His gaze dropped to the half finished cup in front of him, frown deepening. “Somethin’ stronger than coffee.”
Annette’s eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised as she watched him shove his laptop in his backpack before shouldering it as he stood up. Her eyes followed his movements and Calum paused when he noticed her still sitting, watching him. He raised an eyebrow, impatient as he questioned, “You comin’?”
“Uh.” She gaped at him, not entirely expecting the invite, not when he seemed so agitated. His grip on the strap of his bag was tight, and Annette figured he’d want to be alone since he seemed so upset. But if he was about drink in a pissed off mood, Annette would rather keep an eye on him. “Yeah, sure,” she quickly confirmed, feeling as if she took too long to answer, Calum may change her mind.
He waited as she stood up and pulled her jacket back on, grabbing her bag as she followed him out of the cafe. It was chilly, unsurprisingly, as they stepped onto the sidewalk and began making their way down, but Annette was quick to realize they weren’t walking in the direction of the bar they’d been at a week ago.
She eyed Calum as he walked along next to her, just a subtle pace ahead due to his longer legs, his dark eyes staring straight ahead as they went. Annette hesitated on opening her mouth but after they walked a few blocks in nothing but silence save for the buzz of the city around them, she slowly asked, “We’re not going to Mack’s?”
Calum licked his teeth. “If I go to a bar I’m gonna blow all my money. Better to raid my own supply,” he answered steadily, eyes shifting to glance down at her. “You cool with that?”
Annette raised her eyebrows as a way of agreeing. “Yeah, ’course.”
So she stayed quiet as she followed Calum through the city, finally reaching the apartment complex after they walked a few blocks, took a subway ride, and then walked another two blocks. The entire time, Calum had remained silent and Annette kept her arms crossed as every step closer they got to his place, the more she wondered if it was a good idea to go with him—if he even still wanted her to come along. He was clearly not in a good mood and Annette wasn’t sure if he still wanted her company, but she stayed silent. After all, Annette was still kind of wanted to keep an eye on him if he was about to drink.
Her body felt tense with nerves as they stood in the elevator, side by side in complete silence, until they stopped in front of a door that Calum unlocked and opened. He stepped in behind her, flicking on a switch to light up the living room, and Annette took in the dark grey couch facing a TV, windows not quite floor to ceiling but large enough to provide optimal natural light if the blinds weren’t drawn. It was an open plan kitchen and hallway leading towards the bedroom, probably, and Annette admired the apartment. It was simple, with hints of personal touches like concert posters and a shelf full of books and records in the corner, along with a bunch of plants placed strategically.
The sound of keys clattering startled Annette, head turning to see Calum’s hand retract from a small table behind the couch where he’d dropped his keys. She felt awkward, no doubt, given that this was her first time at Calum’s place, as Calum shrugged off his leather jacket and dropped it to the couch before making his way towards the kitchen.
He cast her a look as he went. “Whiskey?”
She followed him with her eyes before pulling out of the brief trance and shrugging off her own jacket. She followed him. Annette wasn’t entirely sure if she’d regret this, but she didn’t quite care in the moment. “Sure.”
The apartment was silent save for the clinking of the Jim Beam bottle and glasses Calum pulled out, placing them on the counter. It was a full bottle, untouched, and Annette felt an uneasy twist of her stomach at the thought of Calum potentially wanting to finish it all tonight. Had his conversation with Liana really affected him so much?
Annette kept her gaze on him, noting his features completely void of any expression as he uncapped the bottle and poured some in each glass. He lifted one of them, dark eyes finally meeting Annette’s light ones as he held the glass out to her expectantly. She took it, offering a small smile as she found herself asking, “What’re we toasting to?”
Calum paused, lips parting to roll his lower one in, tongue swiping over it as his gaze averted thoughtfully, free hand braced on the counter. Then a wry smile curled at his lips, head tilting as his eyes met Annette’s, the sarcasm in both his gaze and voice as he declared, “To being emotionally unavailable.”
That was not at all what she was expecting. Annette looked at him, eyebrows raised in bewilderment as Calum flashed her a derisive smile while clinking their glasses and taking a sip of his drink. But Annette kept staring, wondering why the hell Calum would say something like that—and the way he said it, too. Like he was mocking someone else’s words, ready to spit on them and shove them back in the face of whoever had uttered them.
And she watched as Calum downed the contents of his glass, throat working as he swallowed and sucking in a breath through his teeth as he eyed the now empty glass. “Right, come on,” Calum spoke up, looking at Annette as he grabbed for the bottle with his free hand and walked around the counter. He jutted his chin. “Let’s plant that image of me watching The Great British Baking Show in your head.”
“Uh—” Annette sounded, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. She frowned briefly. “Okay,” she finished slowly as she turned and followed him.
They settled on the couch as calum turned on the TV, and Annette sipped at her whiskey as Calum switched to Netflix. The sweet mixed with smokey taste tickled her throat as Calum played the first episode of one of the seasons.
Annette tried not to think of how. . . Strange this was. She hadn’t exactly planned on watching some baking show while drinking whiskey in Calum’s apartment, and yet here she was, wondering how the hell she ended up here. It didn’t help that Calum’s words were swimming around in her head, drowning out the sound of the TV as she wondered why he toasted to being emotionally unavailable.
They were silent, much like they had been since they left Blue’s, the only sounds emitting from their surroundings as the hum of the city was replaced by the TV. Annette watched Calum from the corner of her eye, sipping her drink and feeling it run smoothly down her throat once she grew used to the taste. He watched the show, slouched on the couch as he sipped from his own glass and kept his gaze glued on the TV, curls brushing across his forehead that Annette itched to push away.
She had so many questions.
But for now, she finished her drink, licking her lips and taking a breath before holding her empty glass out to Calum. He looked at her and then at the glass, lips quirking with a small grin she hadn’t seen since Liana had showed up, a sight that almost jump started her heart, and poured her some more whiskey.
*****
Annette wasn’t really drunk, but saying she was a hundred percent sober would be a lie. She felt slightly lighter than before, laying on the couch with her head resting on the armrest and knees bent so her legs didn’t go over Calum’s lap. He was still in the same position as they had started, slouched on his head of the couch, only this time he was hugging the now empty bottle of whiskey.
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, startling Annette as she lifted her head to look at him. Calum was pointing to the TV, eyes wide and lips curling into a wide grin as he waved his hand in such a comical way that Annette couldn’t keep in her amused laugh. “Her biscuit tower fell! She’s fucked!”
Her gaze returned to the TV where a contestant’s tower of biscuits did, in fact, fall over as she scrambled to race against the clock to correct the mistake, and Annette couldn’t keep her laughter in because of Calum’s overreaction, too drunk to keep himself quiet as he guffawed. She watched him, feeling the giggles come a lot easier now that there was some alcohol in her, admiring the flush of his cheeks due to the entire bottle he’d finished after she only had about three glasses.
Annette wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been at Calum’s apartment, laying on his couch and watching British people make baked goods as he let out drunken comments and laughs every now and again. When Annette had told him she couldn’t find an image in her head of him watching this show, she’d been right; but now, all she could see was Calum dropping comments of dough not proven for long enough or cakes that looked like a toddler iced them. And it was hilariously unexpected, bringing a lightness to her chest every time he said something. Clearly he spent some time watching the show, and it only kind of made Annette’s heart beat for him a little faster.
When she checked her phone, she sucked in a breath to see that it was almost one in the morning, and if she hoped to wake up for her nine o’clock shift tomorrow, she needed to head home now. So Annette sighed as she blinked slowly, a mixture of slight tipsiness and sleepiness as she pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her blonde hair to push it back.
“I should head home,” she said, her voice soft against the TV as she shifted to get her feet to touch the ground. Her sneakers were next to the couch as she bent to grab them and shove her feet inside.
“Already?” Calum shifted next to her, sitting up and Annette looked at him, feeling her heart jump at the frown lowering his eyebrows and pout on his full lips to go with the whine he’d spoken with.
Letting out a gentle laugh, Annette responded, “I’ve been here for four hours, Calum. It’s time for bed.”
“Well,” he dragged out the word as he looked around for the remote before finding it and pausing the show, shoulders slumped as he asked her sadly, “why don’t you sleep here? It’s late and—”
“I’ve got work early tomorrow,” Annette told him, her voice kind and heart warm at his offer. God, she’d stay here any other day. But neither of them were completely sober, and work the next day really was killing the mood. The way Calum was pouting at her, drunken and adorable, wasn’t at all helping her in any way, working against her to make her want to stay. But she couldn’t. She’d stayed to make sure he was alright, and while he was drunk, he seemed to be okay. Maybe she’d tell Luke to check on him tomorrow. “I’ll take an Uber. I don’t live far from here anyway.”
Annette stood up, blinking once as she made sure she had her footing, the lightheadedness present from the whiskey. Shrugging on her jacket, she pulled her hair from under the collar and looked down at Calum to see him staring up at her. His dark eyes were glazed over, cheeks and nose flushed cutely, and the sudden urge to kiss him that overcame Annette threatened to rob her of her breath. She needed to get out of here.
“Text me when you get home?” Calum questioned as he stood, and he had less balance than Annette, unsurprisingly, as he let out a quiet whoa with raised eyebrows as he dropped the empty bottle on the couch and grabbed the back of it to keep himself upright.
Annette let out a laugh as she began making her way towards the door, Calum right behind her once he got his footing. “Will you be awake when I do?” she questioned teasingly after opening the door, stepping into the hall, and turning around to face him with a raised eyebrow.
Calum let out a scoff of a laugh—was it a scoff? He almost blew a raspberry—as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe—whether it was just an absent action or because he couldn’t keep himself upright, Annette wasn’t sure. Being a bit tipsy was inhibiting her ability to read people. Still, she admired how fucking good he looked in his simple black full sleeved shirt, the fabric of it straining against his biceps since his arms were crossed, and across his chest.
“For you?” Calum questioned as a response to hers, raising his eyebrows as a lazy, boyish grin lifted at his lips. It was a smile that easily had Annette’s heart jumping to her throat, though it didn’t compare to the way a glint danced across his dark eyes when he finished with a factual, “Of course.”
Her cheeks flushed, warmer than the whiskey ever made her as she ducked her head, fighting off a smile, and Calum grinned at her reaction. He tilted his head, leaning it against the doorframe as he watched her, his gaze burning into her wonderfully. When Annette looked back at him, at the relaxed features he was finally expressing and the easy, yet drunken, smile on his lips, she suddenly felt the question that had been nagging her fall at the tip of her tongue.
She wanted to keep it in, to not ruin the moment, but Annette crossed her own arms across her chest and gently asked, “What was that about being emotionally unavailable, Calum?”
There had been no lead up or preemptive move before she voiced that question, but Annette had been keeping it in since the moment Calum had made that toast. Her curiosity itched at her, and with the bit of whiskey running through her veins, it gave Annette enough of an excuse to finally utter it.
She watched as Calum registered her question before his eyes closed, lips lifting into a smile as he let out another scoff while ducking his head. He looked at her once he straightened, curls once again falling over his forehead, and Annette was surprised there was no trace of the dry, humorless smile that had been on his face when he made that toast.
Instead, Calum returned to leaning his head against the doorframe, looking down at her shorter figure with a reminiscent smile on his face. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that allowed Calum to so easily confess, “Liana and I dated for a while and, uh, broke up five months ago because, according to her, I was too emotionally unavailable to be in a relationship with her. So she found someone who was.”
He ended with a single shrug and a roll of his eyes, but Annette frowned as she saw past that mask. She had figured there was some kind of romantic past between the two of them, but to see Calum still hurt about it had her biting the inside of her cheek, empathizing with him. She imagined being told that you weren’t emotionally attached to your significant other by them couldn’t have been easy, and Annette’s chest tightened for him. And as she watched Calum drop his gaze to the doorframe where his nail was scratched at it, arms still crossed, Annette knew Calum probably felt dumb for being upset about it. But she wanted to tell him he was right to. Him being upset was justified, in her opinion. She didn’t like seeing him like this.
“For what it’s worth,” Annette spoke up, her voice quiet and soft, eyes on him even though he was avoiding her gaze. The tall, broad man in front of her looked small as he tried to hide behind an invisible wall, like he was ashamed of having feelings. Ashamed of being the opposite of the very thing he’d been accused of. So she spoke gently, honestly, in the silence of the late hour. “I think if you’re capable of writing those beautiful songs and singing them with the kind of passion you do, then there’s no way you’re emotionally unavailable.”
The pure honesty in her words had Calum lifting his head, brown eyes finally meeting her bluish-brown ones as he ceased picking at the door frame, and Annette kept the kind smile on her lips as she noted the whirlwind of emotions that flashed across his pretty eyes. She saw them under the glaze of the alcohol as he gazed at her, the sleepiness from the alcohol disappearing for a moment to be replaced with an appreciation for her and her words.
Her statement was followed by a silence that settled upon them like a blanket, and Annette could feel the way the two of them were drawing close to one another under the shelter of it. Their movements were gradual, eyes locked and hearts thundering the closer they got.
Somewhere in the back of her head, Annette could hear a voice telling her to stop; to pull back and turn and leave, but she was quick to shush it. This may be a bad idea, but she didn’t care all too much in this moment. She wanted to ignore her head and listen to her heart, wanted to let her body draw near Calum’s as every second went back, hoping the whiskey in her veins didn’t cause her to lose her balance.
As soon as Annette’s gaze dropped from Calum’s, his dark eyes only alluring her more, and flickered to his lips, there was no going back. Because suddenly she was feeling Calum’s hands cradling her jaw, thumbs on her cheeks as he tilted her head up enough to capture her lips with his in a surprisingly tender kiss. Annette’s eyes slipped shut instantly, her hands gently grasping his wrists as she slowly moved her lips with Calum’s, the sensation of his savoringly sucking on her lower lip sparking a fire in her fueled blood that she voiced through a satisfied hum.
It was a slow kiss, getting to know the feel of one another’s lips as the faint taste of whiskey danced on their tongues and Calum’s touch burned wonderfully at Annette’s skin. She callouses of his thumbs were nothing compared to the warmth his touch provided, or the electricity shocking Anette to her very core as Calum kissed her tenderly.
They pulled away moments later, not because they wanted to but because they had to, air becoming a necessary evil. The kiss ended but their lips dragged against one another’s, noses fitting together and foreheads pressed as Annette kept her eyes closed. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart, feel Calum against her, and inhale the delicious scent of his woodsy, summery cologne and something else that was just him and maybe even more inviting. Annette had no idea what the hell just happened, but she was glad it did.
She couldn’t stay though, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to go home and maybe think of what she’d just done on the drive back, and maybe hope that the tingling sensation of her lips never went away as she found herself squeezing Calum’s slender wrists under her grasp. “Um.” Annette let out a short, breathless laugh, lips curled into a flustered grin and squeezing her closed eyes before opening them. Her gaze immediately went to Calum’s lips, the ones she’d just kissed, the urge to do so again rushing back powerfully. Annette took a breath as Calum brushed his nose against hers, humming quietly in response, as she finally found the reluctant words, “I should go.”
Against her, Calum brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. His voice was low with an enticing rasp as he responded, “Sounds like a terrible idea.”
Annette let out another breathless giggle as her hands dropping from his wrists and lowered to where his arms were bent at his elbows. Somehow, she found it in herself to pull away, head tilting back ever so slightly to look at him, stomach twisting happily to see his brown eyes already looking at her. She couldn’t be entirely sure if he was looking at her so adoring because he truly meant it or because he was drunk, but Annette didn’t want to ruin the moment by thinking about it. God, she needed to go.
“I’ll, uh, text you when I get home?” Annette responded, her words coming out as a question as she peered up at him, unsure if the offer still stood.
“Please.” He sounded far too earnest for someone who was drunk, and it didn’t make falling for him any harder.
Annette reluctantly pulled away from him, hands dropping from him as he did the same, gazing licking as she offered him a smile. Calum returned it, boyish and lazy, as he crossed his arms over his chest like he didn’t know what to do with them now that his hands weren’t on her.
He watched her go, and Annette could feel his gaze burning into her back as she approached the elevator at the end of the short hall. It opened up right away, and when she stepped in and turned around, her heart jumped at the sight of Calum, leaning out of his doorway to keep his eyes on her. She saw him grin, raising his hand in a two finger salute as the doors slid closed, and Annette desperately wanted to pry them open and go back to Calum.
Trying to figure out if that was just a drunken kiss or if it meant something would only dampen her mood. So Annette put it of her mind, and only focused on the way her lips still tingled and burned from Calum’s own. The smile remained on her face her entire journey home, practically permanently glued when she texted Calum she reached safely, as promised, and he returned it with a semi coherent Good. Night, doll.
*****
“Your two favorite people are right here. What do you keep looking at your phone for, Hemmings?”
Calum’s tease received an absent smile from Luke, though it faltered quickly as a worried expression crossed over his face and he placed his phone on the table. “Just checking in on Annette,” he sighed, leaning back and propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair, running his hand down his face.
Upon noticing Luke’s expression, and hearing his words, the smile on Calum’s face lessened as his eyebrows drew together, gaze flickering over to Sierra. His confusion grew when he saw the understanding expression on her face, and Calum sat up as he looked at Luke sitting diagonal of him. “Is she okay?” he asked, wondering what could prompt Luke to want to check in on her.
Luke’s blue eyes met Calum’s brown, the hesitation that crossed over his face only making Calum anxious as he frowned impatiently. “It’s just—it’s a tough day for her,” Luke answered, hand running through his blonde curls, a nervous habit of his. When he took in the look Calum was giving him, wanting an explanation, Luke held back the ill-timed yet absent chuckle that almost threatened to escape him. Calum’s interest in Annette was obvious, was endearing, which was why Luke found himself admitting, “It’s the anniversary of her parents’ death.”
The expression on Calum’s face went from blank to disbelieving in under a second, Luke’s words registering a bit too painfully in his head. Painfully because it was unexpected and because once Calum understood the heavy weight behind them, he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach for Annette. For a split, desperate second Calum was hoping Luke was delivering the punch line of a sick joke, but the somber expression on his face—and on Sierra’s—told Calum his best friend’s words were that of a sad, horrible truth.
He stared at Luke, incredulous and bewildered, eyebrows drawn together in a frown over widened eyes as he tried to make sense of what he’d just been told. The busy hum of the restaurant the three of them were in dissipated as a flurry of thoughts whirled in Calum’s head, driven by disbelief and even a hint of panic. Annette’s parents were dead and Calum had no idea.
Not that he had any business in knowing, because as much as this newfound information shocked him and even had his heart dropping, what astounded Calum even more was Annette herself. This girl who was kind of shy but had the prettiest, infectious smile had suffered a loss Calum couldn’t ever imagine going through. Of course he didn’t expect her to walk around advertising the painful fact, but knowing Annette carried something as heavy as that with her and didn’t let it show made his throat tighten.
Calum cared for her, more than he thought he would when they first met, his feelings for her growing unexpectedly and out of left field. Annette drew him in after Calum got his head out of his ass and started hanging out with her, getting to know her and her taste for weird colored drinks. She was quiet but chatted when she was comfortable, much like Calum, and the more he hung out with her, the more he realized how easy and effortless it was with Annette.
So effortless that Calum had no idea he was falling for her until the alcohol in his system pushed him far enough to kiss her. The fact that she reciprocated was thrilling.
At a loss for words, Calum licked his lips, throat dry as he asked Luke with his gaze dropping to the blonde’s phone, “Did she reply?”
The corner of Luke’s lips lifted as he disgruntledly clicked his tongue. “Yeah, she said she just got back from Jersey and was home now. Says she’s fine but, y’know, I’m worried.”
“Ten years,” Sierra murmured and Calum’s eyes drifted to her. Her dark eyed gaze was on the table absently, a sympathetic furrow in her eyebrows for the woman they were all talking about. Sierra pressed her lips together and gave a dejected shake of her head, finally looking at the two men as she let out a sigh. “That’s a big one.”
Calum barely knew Annette for ten weeks, yet he felt the powerful urge to be able to ease the ten years worth of pain she was probably going through.
Which is why after his late lunch with Luke and Sierra, he found himself standing in front of the dark green door of Annette’s apartment, lips rolled into his mouth as he debated on knocking. He’d texted her after he left the restaurant, his two messages of Are you home? and Luke told me being responded with Yeah, come over?
Now he was there, willing himself to knock. The last time Calum had seen Annette was two days after they’d kissed, and that was also two days ago. They were busy with work and school, and although they hadn’t seen each other, that didn’t mean they didn’t speak. It was as if nothing between them had changed when they texted, but there was an undertone present that reminded them of that moment at Calum’s door—as if they could forget.
Calum certainly couldn’t. He swore he could still feel the softness of Annette’s lips against his, taste the combination of whiskey and her watermelon flavored chapstick that he yearned for again. Kissing Annette had been an impulsive, drunken decision but it was not one he regretted. If anything, the alcohol pushed him to do something Calum had subconsciously been wanting to do for a while. Seeing Liana led him to wanting a drink, which turned into drinking a whole bottle of whiskey, which eventually led to him kissing Annette.
Seeing his ex hadn’t been the highlight of his day, but saying the day ended on a better note would be an understatement.
Standing in front of Annette’s door, though, Calum knew he didn’t want anything from her right now. He just wanted to be there for her. She may not have asked him to, and he feared he was imposing, but he cared about her in a way that tightened his throat at the thought of her hurting. Calum just wanted to offer any kind of help she may need. He wanted to try.
The door opened after his knuckles rapped against it twice, and Calum was greeted by the sight of Annette, his heart jumping into his throat. Her thick blonde hair was down in its loose waves, looking adoringly comfortable in an oversized sweater ready to swallow her with its sleeves too long and leggings underneath. Calum gazed at her, taking in intricate eyes and the long lashes framing them, as well as how her entire face had a flush to it. She’d been crying.
“Hey,” she greeted, and Calum felt the air rush out of his lungs as her lips quirked into a small smile. He didn’t want her to smile if she didn’t feel like it. Didn’t want her to smile at his expense. But he squashed that last thought when Annette’s eyes showed some relief, and she let go of the door knob when Calum took a step forward and lifted her arms. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He got the message instantly, pulling her in for the hug she was looking for with his arms around her shoulders, feeling Annette’s wrap around his torso. Her fruity scent enveloped him invitingly and Calum pressed his cheek to the top of her head, feeling her own press against his chest and her hands on his back. They held each other close, soaking in the other’s warmth, and Calum’s eyes slipped shut as he physically felt Annette let out a breath, the tension in her body seeming to release with it as she melted into him, the heaviness of her day, her life, weighing against her.
Annette’s voice was small, muffled against the material of his sweatshirt as she said, “I’m probably not the best company right now.”
Calum let out a gentle scoff, arms still around her securely, as he assured, “I’ll be here anyway.”
They eventually ended up on the carpeted floor of her living room, settled on the floor cushions with each of them nursing a cup of tea. Colin wasn’t home, the two of them having the apartment to themselves, the windows closed to keep the heat in as well as the noise of the city outside. It was quiet in the apartment, the only sound coming from the consistent ticking of the clock on the wall near the TV and the occasional clinks of Calum’s rings hitting the ceramic mug every time he adjusted his grip.
“I didn’t think I’d cry a lot today.” Annette’s voice was gentle, not quite shattering the silence but pushing through it. Calum glanced at her, sitting right next to him with their backs against the couch, but her head was slightly bowed and gaze was on her mug of tea. He saw the way the corner of her lips tilted, the smile humorless and not at all fitting her. “But ten years. . . It’s big, isn’t it? Feels like a lifetime.”
Calum stayed quiet, because she needed this. She wanted to talk and he wanted to listen.
“The first couple of years were awful, y’know?” she continued after drawing a breath, lips twisting to the side. “I was the angriest teen you’d meet.” Annette let out a short laugh at that, casting a glance at Calum, noting the attentive way he was listening, never looking away. She looked ahead, his gaze weighing on her comfortingly. “I was pissed that it was my parents who got killed in a car accident and that I had to live with my aunt and uncle and everything was screwed up. Twelve year old me was pissed and over the past few years, I decided I didn’t ever wanna feel like that again. Life was too damn short to stay feeling that way.”
Annette paused as she inhaled deeply, the tendons in her neck tensing as she blinked a few times, and Calum knew her to be fighting back tears. His eyebrows drew together as he watched her keep herself together, wanting to tell her it was okay if she couldn’t. Instead he rested his mug in the space between his thighs and reached his left hand over, grasping onto Annette’s right as he laced their fingers together. She looked down at the newfound source of warmth, a smile quirking at her lips.
“They missed out on so much,” she continued after swallowing with a quick frown. “Track meets, high school graduation, first love, first heartbreak, getting into college. All the things I took their presence in for granted and it hurt every time I went through those things and they weren’t there to support me but it got easier over time. But—” Her throat was tight, voice straining to fight through the emotions closing her up, and Calum felt the subtle burn in his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional guy other than on paper, but watching Annette reminisce the loss of her parents sent a shocking stab of pain throughout his body he hadn’t expected. It hurt seeing her hurt. She squeezed his hand, and he was quick to return the gesture. “Realizing it’s been an entire decade since they’ve passed is kind of. . . It’s unreal. And I hate that it just. . . Isn’t unreal.”
In that moment, Calum felt as though he understood Annette just a little bit better. Understood why she was always smiling and why she didn’t look like the kind of person who got pissed off easily—why she forgave him so quickly instead of being turned off by his behavior at first. She’d spent too long being angry and upset—rightfully so—that she minimized those kind of emotions in other circumstances where she knew she’d be better off just letting it go. The world was trying enough to give someone plenty of reasons to be angry; why hold onto shit that didn’t matter in the long run?
“Holding onto anger like that is exhausting,” Annette spoke up, an airy laugh escaping her as she did so, turning her head to look at him with that same smile she always wore, though this time a hint of sadness curved at her lips, accompanying the tired look in her bluish-brown eyes. Her long eyelashes seemed damp with tears. She offered a single shouldered shrug. “And holding grudges over the smaller shit doesn’t help anyone. When you allow yourself to move on from the little things, it kind of gives you room to make your way through the pain that feels like it’s always holding you back.” The something crossed across her glassy eyes, something akin to sheepishness that Calum caught before Annette quickly dropped her gaze back down to the mug. Quietly, she added in a mumble, “I probably sound stupid.”
“Nope.” Calum shook his head, instantly killing that train of thought before it could go off the rails. With his free hand, he moved aside his mug so he could shift his body to face him. He made sure Annette’s mug was out of the way as well as he grabbed onto her other hand, getting her to look at him. Calum’s expression was serious, but kind as he admired the softness of her skin touching his. “Saying you sound stupid is not giving yourself any credit for how strong you are. I can’t imagine going through a loss like that at the age you did.” He noted the way her lower lip trembled at her words, though she offered a grateful smile, and Calum squeezed her hands. “Your parents would be proud of you for pushing through, Annie.”
Something flashed across her eyes just then, something nostalgic and sad as her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly and a small smile curled at her lips. She looked down at their joined hands and let out a breathless puff of laughter. “No one’s called me that since my parents passed. They were the only ones who called me Annie.”
The guilt twisted at Calum’s gut as he tried to pull back, lips parting as he took a breath. “Oh—I’m sorry, I—”
“No, no,” Annette was quick to soothe, looking up at him with a smile lighter than the ones from before, this one not carrying the pain of her parents’ memory. It was a real Annette smile, the kind that rendered him breathless. She averted her gaze briefly before shyly murmuring, “I like when you say it.”
Her words had Calum smiling in return, seeing a glimpse of the shy and adoring girl he’d come to know, but this wasn’t about Annette making him smile. It was meant to be the other way around. So he tried in the best way he knew how.
“You know what else I know that you like?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. Annette sniffled, tears gone and cheeks flushed, as she raised her eyebrows in question. His smile was gentle, kind, voice a soothing murmur as he let go of one of her hands to push some locks of blonde hair behind her ear. The back of Calum’s finger grazed along her cheek as he tilted his head down at her, soft gaze on her as he said, “I know you like it when I sing.”
Annette seemed to understand exactly where Calum was going with this, forehead smoothing out as the grateful smile on her lips returned, chest sinking as she let out a quiet laugh that Calum wanted to hear more of. He easily mirrored her smile, glad to see some of that light return in her eyes, as he briefly cupped her cheek before whispering, “Come on.” His words were followed by Calum shifting them, arms wrapping around Annette and pulling her into his chest, back against him. His arm was loosely across her collarbones and Annette held his arm in her hands and settled against him, feeling the line of his jaw against her temple as his other arm settled across her waist. His warmth against her had an instant reaction from Annette, relaxing her, and Calum brushed his lips against her temple before asking, “Any requests?”
Annette hummed, happy and comfortable, as her fingers tapped against his arm. “Are we talking originals?”
He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against Annette. Calum couldn’t help but think how comfortable he was here, with Annette in his arms, her body providing more warmth than the tea. He was engulfed in her just like she was embraced by him and Calum was realizing, without pause, there was no other place he’d rather be. “We’re talkin’ anything you want, sweetheart.”
She was silent for a moment before saying, “That one song you had. . . It was really pretty. Uh. . . Waste The Night.”
Calum grinned, lips brushing against her temple once more. “Got it,” he said,taking a breath before he began singing the familiar sound. For the first time, Annette heard Calum just as him; just his voice, with no instruments nor the accentuating of a microphone. And it made this day a little bit easier.
*****
There was a regular customer at Blue’s who, upon sight, brought a grin onto Calum’s face without even trying. Whether it was when he was seated at a table and heard the jingle of the bell and saw her walk in, or when he was on stage and her face stood out in the small crowd—Calum’s eyes found hers and the smile she brought out was one he couldn’t ever hope to stop. It felt different. It felt good.
It was noticeable, the change in him, how the smile came more easily to his face when Annette was around. To the point where the employees at Blue’s noticed and made comments about it and instead of rolling his eyes. . . It only widened Calum’s smile more. And it felt real. He felt like himself before Liana and the heartbreak. He felt happy and good and it all had to do with Annette making him the happiest he could be for the past three months.
Stepping off the small stage at Blue’s, Calum took a minute to put his guitar back in its case before picking it up and walking over to the pretty girl sitting at one of the back tables, a smile on her face as he approached her. “Hey,” he greeted her with a grin, resting his guitar on the floor and leaning it against the table. Calum ducked to press a quick kiss to Annette’s lips, pulling away and standing straight as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Annette hummed, shooting him a teasing smile as she leaned back in her seat. “Because no one volunteers to work on New Years Eve.”
Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “This doesn’t even count as work,” he pointed out, earning a light laugh from her. His gaze then dropped to the table and Calum smiled as he gestured to the cup. “And look, you even got your froo-froo drink!”
“Stop,” Annette pouted at him before breaking out into a grin as Calum shook his head with his own, the smile bringing out those adorable crinkles she loved. “Are you ready to go? We still have to get ready for Ashton’s party.”
“Yeah, let me go to the bathroom real quick,” Calum said and Annette nodded as he turned and went, disappearing towards the back of the cafe to where the bathrooms were.
She waited for him while busying herself on her phone, thought it was short lived when a voice spoke up, “I didn’t think he was capable of still smiling like that.”
Annette looked up, gaze landing on the woman standing by the table, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to place the vaguely familiar face. It clicked suddenly as the crease in Annette’s forehead smoothed, realizing the woman who had spoken was Liana, Calum’s ex who’d told him, once upon a time, he was emotionally unavailable.
He’s told her about Liana, about how she’d found comfort and solace with some other guy when she was still with Calum. She reasoned that it was because she was lonely, because Calum wasn’t as invested in her and their relationship as she was, and maybe Calum should’ve tried harder, but it also didn’t give her a reason to run into the arms of someone else.
Annette had been angry on Calum’s behalf. But being with him now. . . Liana couldn’t have been more wrong about him.
Keeping her tone kind, as it always was, Annette responded, “He’s always been capable.” She reached for her drink. “It probably just took the right person to bring it out,” Annette added lightly, taking a sip of her iced tea through the straw.
Glancing up, Annette took in the way Liana raised her eyebrows at Annette’s sweetly delivered snide comment. She felt her heart jump a bit, not entirely one to make remarks like such directed at someone, but Annette wasn’t going to let Calum’s ex talk rudely about him to his back—to his girlfriend. Especially when Annette knew how much Liana hurt him, and while Calum got some great songs out of that heartbreak, it was something she uselessly wished she could’ve protected him from.
Annette wasn’t one to hold onto anger, but she was definitely capable of telling someone to fuck off—albeit, more kindly.
Trying to recover, Liana let out a forced chuckle. “It was just a joke.”
Annette pursed her lips, the sweet taste of her drink lingering on her tongue as she clicked it. “Oh, but it wasn’t.” She was surprised at herself for not feeling intimidated by the woman standing in heels over her seated figure, easily looking up at Liana with a cool expression. Surprised and proud of herself. “You don’t mess with someone and play it off as a joke. Especially if you see them better off afterwards.” One corner of her lip quirking up into an empty smile, Annette offered a single shrug as she added, “They’re happier despite what you did, not because of it.”
Liana looked disgruntled at Annette’s words, lips parting and eyebrows drawing together as she tried to find the right words to respond with. Annette doubted she had them. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe not,” Annette agreed with a nod, her eyes on Liana’s. “But Calum’s told me enough.” Annette’s eyes glanced towards the back of the cafe, hoping Calum didn’t come out just yet. “And from what he’s said to me, I know it’d be better if he didn’t see you.”
She kept her gaze steady with Liana’s, not letting the other woman intimidate her. Annette couldn’t entirely believe the way she’d spoken, but when it came to Calum, Annette couldn’t seem to shut up. Defending him came naturally, easily, and she didn’t regret a single word that left her during that conversation. And she let Liana know that with the cool, unwavering look she was giving her.
Of course, Liana didn’t seem to appreciate it. She lifted her shoulders, as if giving herself a backbone, probably feeling good about having to literally look down at Annette, not that that made Annette feel small. In this moment, she wasn’t. With a sneer, Liana said, “Hope his feelings don’t crap out on him again. He can be dysfunctional that way.”
Annette clenched her jaw at that, quite literally having to bite her tongue from snapping back at the brunette who was now walking away. But Annette was quick to calm herself down as she released a breath through her nose. The playlist Calum made for her for Christmas, all consisting of new songs he’d written, all about her, and recorder for her to listen to, would easily prove Liana wrong. But that was for Annette to enjoy.
She hadn’t realized she’d been smiling until Calum was in front of her, tugging at the hem of his leather jacket as he raised an eyebrow at her. “What’re you smiling at, weirdo?”
With a laugh and a roll of her eyes, she shook her head and stood up. “Nothing. Just excited about this party,” she dismissed, feeling a calmness settle over her as Calum grabbed his guitar case and allowed his free arm to rest over her shoulders.
Hours later, Annette stood by the large windows of Ashton’s living room, her eyes taking in the city before them past the reflection of the inside of the apartment where the lights were on and people were mingling. The entire city was partying—it was damn near hell getting from her apartment to Ashton’s since everyone was headed to Times Square—but Annette appreciated being in the warmth and comfort of the apartment than the bitter cold of New York. She also enjoyed watching the vague flurries of snow falling from the sky, high above the skyscrapers around them.
As she swallowed her sip of whatever fruity, alcoholic mixed drink Luke had concocted, Annette felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a somewhat scruffy chin deliciously scraping against the skin of her neck. “You good, Annie?” Calum’s deep, quiet voice questioned, keeping her back against his chest as his voice ran smoothly—she’d rather hear that than the music currently playing.
Annette leaned her head back, the smile quirking up her lips at him and the use of the nickname as she placed her left hand on top of both of his, right hand holding the cup. “Mhm,” she hummed, tilting her head slightly to press her lips in a quick kiss to his cheek. She loved kissing his cheeks. “How much longer until midnight?”
Calum hummed thoughtfully as he unwound one arm from around her, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone and bring it around so Annette could see the screen that read 11:58. Annette let out an excited, almost childlike gasp. “It’s almost time!”
Chuckling, Calum pressed his own lips to her jaw, widening Annette’s grin as she felt his scruff scratch against her some more, adding to the sensation of his soft lips. “Why do you think I came to find you?” She let out a light giggle, turning in his arms to face him, though Calum’s arms remained around her. Looking down at her, Calum tilted his head and asked, “So did you decide on your New Years’ resolution?”
“I did,” Annette grinned, the excited glint returning in her eyes as she practically bounced on her heel clad fleet, Calum’s grip on her keeping her in place as he let out a small whoa, eyeing her cup warily, though the smile remained present. Annette already knew of Calum’s resolution, since he’d told her yesterday, which was to secure a proper job at the label he currently had an internship at. Annette knew he could do it. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and she pressed a hand to his chest. “I think this is the year when I’m finally gonna pull out one of the thousands of ideas in my journal and write that damn book.” She poked him, shooting him a knowing, pointed look. “I’ve finally got some inspiration.”
Calum’s questioning raised eyebrows turned to surprised, excited ones that mirrored the brightness of Annette’s grin, her last comment sending his heart into a frenzy like she always did. The thrill she felt over her resolution brought a grin to Calum’s face, knowing that this was something she’s been wanting to do for a while, and planting the idea was the first step. “Seriously?” Calum grinned, widening so his crinkles appeared and he let out a delighted laugh. “Annie, that’s exciting, love.” He gave her a squeeze, eliciting a giggle. “I’m proud of you.”
“Proud of me?” Annette repeated with a laugh, tilting her head as she gazed at him, eyes glinting. “I haven’t even started. It’s just a resolution for now.”
“It’s the first step,” he told her firmly, giving her a look that spoke of how much he believed in his words and, more importantly, in her. His grin returned. “I can’t wait to read your first draft.”
Annette scoffed. “No way. You’ll get the final one,” she told him. Calum’s pout and whatever he was about to say next was cut off when everyone started counting down from ten, the announcement of the countdown even beginning something that they both missed. She shot Calum a wink, something that only made him grin as she started, “Ten. . . Nine. . .”
Calum shot her a wry grin, though the amusement lit up his dark eyes as he joined in with a teasing roll of his eyes, his hands pressed to her lower back as everyone’s voices echoed throughout the apartment. The two of them remained by the windows, glancing around to see everyone watching the TV that was playing the ball drop happening live, but Annette had seen it all the time—had even gone to it once with Colin and a few friends, a time she didn’t like remembering because of the chaos—and she would much rather be looking at her stupidly gorgeous, talented boyfriend.
He gazed down at Annette, the boyish, easy grin on his face finding home whenever she was around. It wasn’t at all difficult for Calum to admit to himself how he felt around Annette; she had him wrapped around her finger, and often had him questioning how he even fucking functioned before her. Being with her felt as natural as breathing, and every time Annette walked into the room, it was like coming up for air. All he had to do now was let her know and, unsurprisingly, he wasn’t scared.
Five. Annette’s free hand reached up, brushing away a curl from Calum’s forehead, the smile on her face ever present.
Four. He adored the blue that was just on the outer edges of her otherwise light brown irises—Calum could never tire of looking at them, framed with long lashes, dancing with a glint he hoped to find the meaning behind.
Three. After she basically ate her lipstick off, Annette made sure to put on Calum’s favorite flavor of her chapstick—watermelon.
Two. His heart was thundering in his chest, the excitement of the moment getting to him. But Calum knew it mostly had to do with the woman in his arms. It was always because of her.
One. There was so much swimming in his eyes, Annette could tell. So much that was rendering her breathless.
“Happy New Year!”
Their grinning lips met as cheers surrounded them, the entire apartment—and city—bursting into celebration as Annette leaned into Calum and the feel of his soft lips against hers. His arms left her waist so his hands could gently cup her cheeks, keeping her close as they commemorated the new year together, both secretly hoping this was just the first of many. It had only been three months, but they were ready for more.
Calum pulled away slowly, forehead still against hers, deaf and uncaring to the party going on around them as the warm of her cheeks tingled at his skin. He opened his eyes, smiling when he noted Annette was already watching him through hooded ones of her own, and the sight of her eyes and dazed smile made it all the more easy for the words to honestly spill out. “I love you.”
It was there. It was out for her to do with as she pleased. Calum’s heart was thundering in his chest but it was for Annette to have, and he felt his stomach twist in mild nervousness as he waited for her response. She didn’t even have to say it back, Calum realized, as she stared at him with those pretty eyes taken over with shock and disbelief. As long as she knew how he felt about her, Calum was fine. Because he hadn’t been good at this in the past, hadn’t been vocal about his feelings enough. And he would be damned if he let the same mistakes get in the way of his relationship with Annette.
Slowly, a smile lifted her lips and Calum watched her, just an inch or so of space between them, hands still on her cheeks as a gentle laugh escaped her. She felt warm under his touch as she mused, “Starting the year off with a bang, huh?” Her words had Calum letting out a breathless laugh, the nervous tinge to it not lost on either of them, and Annette’s expression softened. She leaned forward, capturing his lips in another gentle, slow kiss that Calum savored, the tension in his stomach easing. He felt himself come undone when Annette whispered back, “I love you too, rockstar.”
She loved him too. He’d always been able to breathe easily around Annette. Now he felt like he was fucking flying.
Her use of the nickname accompanying the very words he wanted to hear her say had Calum letting out a relieved laugh, pulling his lower lip into his grinning mouth as he stared at Annette. She called him that as if he wasn’t just some local performer at some cafe in New York, but Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. She made him feel important, and she made him want to be someone who was worthy of how she felt about him.
Annette loved him and he loved her. They’d become each other’s inspirations, unwittingly and unapologetically—and Calum was ready to prove he was worthy of that title for her just like she already was for him for as long as she’d allow him to.
--
tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn @calumculture @sexgodashton
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Day 5- Special Occasion Sex (feat. Chris Evans x Kelly Evans)
Author’s Note: This story is a one shot that is part of the Blue Christmas universe set on Chris and Kelly’s wedding night. Enjoy!
Warnings: smut
It was over. After over a year of talking and planning and seating charts and picking bridesmaids dresses and tuxes and rings, we were finally married. Granted, it had only been official for about twelve hours, but still.
“Chris, I swear to God, if you drop me, I’m getting an annullment.” I laugh as he sweeps me up into his arms bridal style, preparing to carry me over the threshold into our honeymoon suite.
“I’m not going to drop you. Jesus.” he chuckles.
Once he gets the door open, he walks us into the room and my mouth drops open as I take in our surroundings.
“Oh my…..Chris!” I gasp.
He sets me down on my feet gently so I can take a good look around and take it all in.
The suite is gorgeous, all light fabrics and romantic lighting, and a gigantic king size bed that looks insanely comfortable. Not that I think we’re going to be doing much sleeping on it or anything…..
The cherry on the proverbial sundae is the trail of red rose petals and candles leading from the living room into the bedroom, and the petals scattered over the white comforter.
“Chris, this is…..so beautiful.” I tell him,
“I just wanted this to be perfect. Everything has been so crazy the last few days, I just wanted us to have a beautiful place where we can just enjoy being with each other for a while with no interruptions………” he says lowly. He steps behind me and sweeps my hair over my shoulder, dropping soft kisses to my shoulders and the back of my neck.
I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side, offering him more skin to explore with his lips.
He pulls down the zipper on the floor length silk dress that I had changed into for the reception. “You looked so fucking beautiful today……you look so beautiful now. I can’t believe that I’m finally married to you after all this time.”
“You know, you clean up pretty well yourself. You know how hard it was so concentrate when all I wanted to do was to get you out of that goddamn tux?”
He groans softly and the sound goes straight to my core.
When my dress falls to the floor, Chris gasps and takes a few steps back to take in the image before him.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” he breathes out, his Boston accent coming out thicker in his arousal.
“You like?” I ask softly, stepping towards him.
He swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing up and down.
“Kelly….” he whispers, placing his hands on my hips.
Soft, deep kisses are exchanged as my fingers deftly unbutton his crisp white dress shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders, revealing his heavily tattooed chest.
“You know,” I whisper, leaning forward to press my lips against the various markings “from the outside, you look like this nice, respectable, sweet boy next door, but get this shirt off, and it’s all bad boy.”
He groans again, tilting my chin up so he can kiss me again as his hands move to my back to unhook my bra.
“You’re going to be the death of me….you know that, don’t you?” he breathes out.
I smirk as he presses me into the mattress, his weight heavy and delicious on top of me.
“Chris, please….” I cry out, as he wrings yet another orgasm from my body.
He looks up from his spot between my legs and fucking WINKS before continuing his assault on my pussy, using the flat of his tongue to lick a long stripe up my folds before sucking my clit into his mouth.
My hands move to his head, tugging on his hair and making him groan.
His fingers trace my folds gently before diving deep inside of me.
“Please….please…..I need you.” I whimper.
After a few more agonizing moments where he seems hell bent on making me lose my damn mind, he moves back up my body, trailing kisses over my stomach and ribs and breasts.
“Spread your legs baby.” he whispers.
I do as he says and watch as he places one hand on my raised knee and uses one hand to stroke his cock, which is rock hard and almost painful looking. I reach down between us and grip him tightly, guiding him into me.
The second that he pushes his hard length inside me, my back arches and my legs fall open even wider, pulling him in deeper.
“That’s it, sweetie. Let me in, baby girl.”
Chris slides his arms underneath my shoulders, holding me tightly to him chest to chest as he rolls his hips, pushing himself into me over and over again. I grip his shoulders tightly, holding on for dear life and we move together, bodies completely in sync, as we work towards our end.
“Fuck, Kelly……I’m not going to last….you feel too fucking good, baby.” he gasps out against my neck.
I bring my legs up so they’re curled around his waist, bringing him deeper inside me and making us both moan at the change in position.
“Come with me.” I whisper.
With a few more snaps of his hips, he brings us both over the edge, softly calling out each other’s names.
As we lay on our sides next to each other, catching our breath and letting our heart rates return to normal, we can’t help but smile.
“I can’t believe you’re my husband.” I whisper, stroking my thumb along his cheekbone.
He closes his eyes and makes a low sound deep in his throat.
“Say it again.”
“Husband.”
“Again.”
“Husband. Husband. Husband.” I whisper, pecking his lips over and over again.
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