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write-it-good-imagines · 4 months ago

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Nothing More(M) - Six

Hello everyone! Hope you had a great first half of the year. With everything happening so fast in my life, I now found a moment to breathe and get in my feelings again. So here's chapter six. Enjoy~ ~6k words, angst, love. How am I supposed to let you go when I don't wanna see you with anyone but me when nobody gets me like you? I only like myself when I'm with you.

Morning came seemingly too early for Samantha. The light orange spice of the sun was barging through the crack of the beige curtains of the bedroom, to find a resting place in the shared bed. That beautiful warmth gently awoke the woman who longed for a couple stolen minutes between the sheets. Try as she might, Samantha shifted from one side to the other in a hopeless attempt to charm the sleep from going away. She looked at Mark, whose brown hair was sparkling a dark autumn gold, and his eyelashes were fluttering in his sleep. Truly, a tender image to remember.

Samantha slid out of bed hoping she wouldn’t disturb Mark’s peace and stretched her body. With the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an open notebook on a distant desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. She curiously approached it but didn’t dare touch it. Mark’s handwriting was scribbled in the intimacy of the pages, some words crossed out, others accompanied by small question marks. There was a title towering at the top of the page: everyone else fades. A love song.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice groggily echoed from the bed and Samantha turned her body to him. It felt like he had been watching her for a while. His voice was an octave lower than usual but still sounded like music to Samantha’s ears.

“How long have you been awake?” she smiled, approaching the bed to sit on the edge.

Mark extended an arm to her direction to meet with her hand. “I felt you squirm around.”

“I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and gave a small squeeze to his hand. Mark just shook his head in response to indicate he was not bothered at all.

“Did you find anything you like?” asked Mark.

Samantha’s eyes travelled to the open notebook, then back to Mark. “Who is that for?” she asked in a mellow voice, focused on his presence.

Mark intertwined his fingers with hers and chuckled. Samantha was not meant to find that piece of writing, and he’d forgotten entirely about it the previous night. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Samantha chuckled and leaned on her belly into bed, meeting Mark’s curious eyes. He extended his hand to tug a lone strand of hair behind her ear. How much did she want that song to be for her.

“What?” Mark whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I bet my breath smells like shit.”

She laughed louder this time. Was she jealous, with Mark not admitting what she wanted to hear? “I bet mine smells like shit too, so that makes us even.”

“I guess I’ll forgive you this time,” Mark chuckled and let go of her face. He shifted his body to stretch on his side, one arm supporting his head, while the other draped loosely over Samantha’s lap. Marks’ fingers found a grip on Samantha’s naked inner thigh. “Morning sex?”

Samantha giggled and slipped from under his touch in an evident response. Mark laughed, too, albeit with his face dug in the plush of the mattress. “Yeah, go on and break my heart.”

In the absence of any vivid emotions, Samantha felt a string snap in the chords of her heart. Ever since the night before, the woman sensed Mark hid himself behind a wall and she could not see beyond. With every word spoken out of his mouth, the woman gathered it to be the truth.

“I did not mean that.”

Of course you did. “Of course not. I need to get ready for the hospital, I start at noon.”

Mark stretched his body to sit on the edge of the bed, both palms of his hand pushing his torso upright. “Have no idea about the time, but it’s far from noon.”

Then before she had a chance to comment, Mark continued. “Why are you running away from me with every chance you get?”

Samantha looked at him with longing eyes, still with a glimmer of both sadness and regret.

“I need to know, Sam.”

“Didn’t I tell you last night, Mark?”

“I did not sleep a wink thinking about everything you said. After the sex we had. Did you?”

Samantha hesitated for a moment. “No.”

A deep sigh exploded from Mark’s lungs. “Then why? I get it, I’m not tall like him, not as handsome, maybe half as smart—”

The woman rushed to shush him. “That doesn’t even matter—”

“All that I gave to you and still am giving is care and respect. And lo—”

In the distant living room, the sharp ring of a phone cut through what could have been Mark’s confession. Samantha hurriedly distanced herself from the bed, recognizing that the sound belonged to her phone.

“…fuck it.” Mark concluded and gathered a loose shirt from his wardrobe to throw over his head. He plunged to his feet to close the notebook where he had put his thoughts and feelings into lately. It was such a painful blur what Mark was feeling, far from the fairytales love ever promised, and it was blurry, Samantha’s voice speaking hurriedly from the other room, at some point fading in such a manner he could not recognize as hers. After a couple more prolonged seconds, Samantha’s head perked from behind the doorframe, watching Mark’s movements with a heavy heart. “Jonathan rang, the hospital is calling for the board of directors. They want me there earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, you should go.” Mark replied absentmindedly, not even sure he was processing anything else beyond the disappointment of his feelings. The bitterness did not go unnoticed.

“Mark…” Samantha tried getting closer, but Mark did not give any sign of mirroring her actions. She backed away. She settled for another question. “You’re leaving again today?”

“Tonight, yes.” He turned to look at her with a knot in his throat. “I need to start packing and all that.”

In a futile attempt to reestablish a connection with Mark, Samantha ultimately walked away from the cold doorframe, biting into the plush of her lower lip to push back the tears. At long last, she had found someone again, to treat her right and engulf her heart with warmth and joy. Was fear bigger than love? Perhaps it was. Was her pride bigger than Mark? It should not have been. As the woman gathered her scattered clothes from the lover’s nest which was Mark’s living room, and eerie sentiment started crawling to her faster and faster. It was as if Mark felt it too when he approached, replacing her in the doorframe. His arms were folded over his torso and there were abrupt lines under his eyes.

“I don’t think we’ll see each other again.” Mark spoke finally and there was some bigger denial force which led Samantha to believe he was just speaking about the present day.

“No, it’s alright, you must pack, meet up with the others. I think it’s going to be a full day at the hospital, anyway, so don’t worry about me!” Samantha cheered and forced a fake smile out of Mark. He did not want to say more.

“Murphy and Millo are outside, just so you know. I let them out into the backyard after you fell asleep.”

“Sure, I’ll get Murphy on the way out. Thanks.”

There was no intimacy during the last seconds of Samantha’s departure, just fugitive smiles shared, and Mark did not follow her outside. The eerie feeling the woman had previously culminated when Murphy suddenly started yelping and crying that he did not want to leave. As if he’d never come back.

Samantha put on her white coat in her office, straightening the wrinkles in the magenta crayon dress hugging her body. She pushed the hair tightened in a ponytail from under the collar, and let it swing like a metronome for a while. There was a pile of medical files on the desk which needed her careful revision for the day, yet the only thing capturing her attention was Mark’s cold demeanor during their parting. Fingers were curling at the hem of the coat, eyes fixated on a faraway point outside the window. Samantha did not hear Jonathan coming in.

“Sam?” Jonathan approached, briefly tapping at her shoulder. She flinched at the unexpected contact, broken off from her trance.

“Sorry, Jonathan.” She coughed shortly to gather her voice, turning to face the other. “What’s up?”

Jonathan observed her features, devoid of the usual happiness she had lately. “Did anything happen between you and Mark?”

Samantha frowned and for a moment forgot Jonathan knew her better than anyone. Or at least used to. “I don’t really feel like talking about it.” Before Jonathan commented. “Please. What do you need?”

“Nothing in particular, I stopped around to ask about the management meeting. There are rumors you want to step down?”

She nodded her head. “I do. I hate this politics and it’s not really my thing. I want to go back to treating people full time. This time for real.”

A small pause and then a sincere smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips. He opened his arms and Samantha gladly took the invitation to wrap around him. Jonathan gently pulled her head into his shoulder, towering over her. “Congratulations. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. Does this mean you talked to him? To Mark?”

Samantha tightened her grip around Jonathan. His back was as broad as she remembered it to be.

“Then why are you sad?”

She just shook her head. “Okay, I’ll stop. We can speak when you feel like it. I lied to you earlier, I actually came to tell you something else.”

“Oh?” Samantha pulled away, watching Jonathan with curious eyes. Jonathan cleared his throat, still holding Samantha close to him. It might as well have been for the last time that he did.

The nervous pacing of a nurse interrupted them with a knock on the open door. Jonathan let go of the woman, straightening his back. He winked at Samantha, with a playful smirk on his lips that she had not seen in a long time. She was overwhelmed with curiosity, especially since, even before the beginning of their relationship, that small gesture was always associated with mischief.

“Doctor Stoss, there is a patient here who wants to meet you. I understand you treated his wife in the past.”

“Of course, I’ll join him momentarily. Thank you, nurse.”

Samantha turned back to Jonathan after the nurse had walked away. “Hey, do you think we could call in the late-night motorcycle ride we talked about? I could really use it. And we could talk more, as it seems you have one or two things to confess to me.”

Jonathan laughed. “Count me in, then. I’ll walk with you; I’m heading to the reception area anyway.”

Truth was, people never get to be ready for the situations life puts them through. They never get warnings, never get spoilers, always hit again and again with the unforeseen and never get used to it. In the lobby of the reception area, Samantha recognized the man looking for her, all too well, with little tweaks and rough around the edges. Next to him was a woman, showing signs of pregnancy, and it all felt like history was replaying all over again. In a cruel deja vu.

“Doctor Stoss,” the man spoke, and a shiver ran down Samantha’s spine. Jonathan felt it and made himself busy around the area, in case she needed him. “We meet again.”

“Mister Dalton, yes.” Samantha composed herself but her skin must have been so pale from the sheer shock. “How can I be of use?”

“I know what you must be thinking.” The man continued, keeping a distance. “It’s not you that I hate, if I have that anymore in my heart. My sister,” gesturing toward the feminine silhouette next to him “she recently found out that she is pregnant, and we wish to monitor everything meticulously from the start.”

Samantha could not comprehend the words spoken to her. “That’s certainly very good thinking but why me? There are many skilled doctors in Seoul who I’m sure can help you with whatever you need.” She then looked down at the white floor. “I did not even forgive myself, so how could you?”

Dalton’s sister reached out for Samantha’s hand in a compassionate gesture which took Samantha by surprise. The man was looking away, not with a distraught expression, but rather one which was desperately fighting for the closure he so much needed. “You should forgive. We both know it was not you. We do.”

So many thoughts were rushing at that moment through Samantha’s mind, crowding and emptying and then crawling in colossal nonsense. The past weeks had been full of the unexpected, of unknown emotions, unknown people, and unknown happenings. Mark came to her mind again. How was it a coincidence that only the night before she was undoing the strings of pain aching at her heart, only to be followed by the father whose two most important people were lost from this life, looking to her for treatment?

“You are foreign like us, so you do understand the obvious choice. We read your scientific papers and all the good you did for the people. Despite us losing our dearest wife and sister, we want to bring his niece and my daughter into the world, loud cries and healthy. By your hands.”

Jonathan’s smile was so stretched out that it could have reached the galaxy. Samantha turned to him by instinct, to find him scribbling a happy face on an empty admission form, as happy as his oozing joy. Then she turned to the brothers, to be met by a sincere look in mister Dalton’s eyes. The sign for which she hoped would come finally did.

“Mister Dalton, please find one of these admission forms and fill it in on my patient’s behalf. Let’s go to an examination room.”

Jonathan giggled akin to a child. “Doctor Williams, if you could help me bring the other files I had, please.”

In light of the events unfolding before her very eyes, Samantha felt something click in her conscience. All the signs in the world could not have been louder to tell her it was time she came face to face with her feelings and her pride. For all that mattered, she had to confess to Mark what was on her mind, which was him and him alone. The mornings drew their breath from him, the days flew by to reach him, and the dusk settled to be with him. There couldn’t have been any other. It could not make sense with anyone else, it had to be Mark.

Now, or never.

Amidst packing the usual stuff for the last leg of the tour, Mark had an uneasy sentiment throughout. He replayed the moment they lay together on the summer grass in the park, teasing and laughing at one another, sewing little by little what he thought would be an indisputable connection. She drew him in, with the audacity of a thief and the serenity of a child. The smell of her skin filling the air bewitching him, the amber of her eyes twinkling like the brightest of stars, and oh the sound of her voice. She was a midsummer night’s dream.

Only she proved to be just that. A dream. Who was he to intrude, if she did not want him?

Mark took a glance at himself in the mirror and laughed at how hypocritical he was. Blaming his mishap on Samantha’s clear boundaries. You aren’t that guy, Jinyoung kept repeating to him, time and again, and by the time he realized he truly was not that guy, he had already done the damage to himself. During Mark’s career, with the bright lights and the fame, most of the girls he met were shallow, looking for easy ways to get out. They all wanted him; he never wanted them. Now that he wanted her, she did not want him. How pitiful that must have felt, to walk with your head held high into a trap thinking it would be a reward. And Samantha was not like anyone else he’d had, she was everything all the other women were not. Fierce, independent, addictive. In between the sheets, he did not believe sex and love could coexist and mean something. And Mark wanted her, with every piece she carried, even more so to fool himself he could help her heal, put a purpose on love again.

Human beings are selfish by nature, far from being perfect. Mark could not push a woman to be with him, against her own will. He would rather suffer than live a lie. Against all odds even, he stopped believing she would give them a chance.

So, to let her go was what he could do, for the sake of both of them.

At the crack of sundown, Mark brought his luggage to the van and joined with the rest of the guys to leave for the airport. He must have exuded a sense of sadness because the usual cheery atmosphere turned into a looming silence.

“Mark? Everything okay?” Jackson asked, putting his phone to the side.

“Yeah, sort of.” Mark replied and put the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, with a loud sigh. Ultimately, he gave up. “Everything is not okay.”

Jinyoung just sighed and folded his arms over his chest. Mark turned his body to the side to speak with the driver. “Can we make a stop to SMP hospital?”

“What are you even doing, adding oil to the fire?” Jinyoung commented, clearly dissatisfied that his friend just chose to torture himself further.

Mark fixed the hood over his eyes, relaxing his body into the fabric of the seat. “I’m letting her go.”

Bambam almost spit the water he was drinking. “You’re doing what now?”

But Mark just ignored the guys, opting to stay silent during the rest of the ride to the hospital. Admittedly, both Jinyoung and Jackson were surprised by Mark’s disclosure. Something had to happen during the night before for Mark to take such a decision, especially as they saw and knew about the feelings Mark harbored for Samantha. They knew better than to pry, Mark would share when he considered appropriate, and all they had to do was to be there for him.

Thoughts were racing through Mark’s mind, as was his heart in his chest, trying to figure out what exactly he would say to rip the band-aid as fast as possible. Whose band-aid he was going to rip off most probably would belong to him, still against his better feelings. Was he an impostor for not fighting more? Although there is nothing louder than the silence of two people being in love but walking away because someone had to choose themselves over the other?

“We’re here, Mark.” Jackson broke the silence, shaking Mark off his trance. “Still going?”

Mark just cracked open the door of the van in response, unpeeling himself hastily from his seat. Back in the car, there was an avalanche of buzzing coming from the cellphones of the other guys, and there was a collective shock.

“Oh my God”, the leader of the group spoke, looking through the pictures their manager had just sent them in the shared groupchat. “This is very bad.”

“Is it Samantha in all of them?” Jackson spoke and could not believe what he was seeing.

“Mark will have to make a statement for this shit, there’s no way. Where did these even come from?” Bambam threw his phone on the back seat. “Is it a fact Dispatch is going to publish it?”

“But he’s letting her go, no? So that’s… nothing is good.”

Mark’s phone was left in the backseat of the car, assaulted by messages and calls from their manager. Jinyoung looked out the window at Mark’s back walking away from the van, still stuck upon the striking picture in which Samantha was heatedly kissing the bartender of the club where the group spent their night some weeks before. Where Mark inadvertently met Samantha. Another picture in the deck where a dashing blonde man was sharing laughs with Samantha on the back of a motorcycle. And another one, alongside a charming tall brunette, doting over one another on the golden sands of a foreign beach. “Let’s hope he’s letting her go.”

The walk from the back of the parking lot to the entrance of the main lobby started a high-pitched ringing in Mark’s ears and he could not realize when he was met by the hospital receptionist.

“What can I help you with, sir? Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Could you page doctor Stoss? I need to talk to her.”

The receptionist was happy to comply with his request and Mark leaned his elbows against the reception counter. There were unusually few people that night in the main lobby of the hospital, keeping the bleak silence of the hospital intact.

“Out of everyone I could have met tonight, I never expected to meet you here.”

Initially, Mark did not recognize the arrogant voice, but when he turned his body to face the owner of that voice, he felt his blood pressure increasing.

“Neither did I, Doctor Carter.” Mark noted, keeping a snarky comment, still a prisoner, under a feigned sense of respect. He was hoping Henry would just leave, albeit highly unlikely.

“I get it, you’re here to see my dear Sam. Heroic, if you ask me. Mark, was it? How important must you singers be.”

The way he was using Samantha’s name was making Mark angry, more than belittling himself. “I didn’t ask. I have nothing to say to you.”

Henry chuckled and fixed the collar of his white coat. Using his analytical and cocky demeanor, Henry was actively looking for ways to assert dominance over Mark. He posed the physical advantages at least. “I have a couple of things to say to you, might as well just listen.”

Mark turned his body fully toward Henry, keeping his stance strong and definitive. Henry arched a curious eyebrow and decided he’d entertain Mark.

“Do go ahead and speak to her while you have the chance. Next time you’d be back, maybe you won’t have it.”

“As if I need any permission to ask of you. You are too self-sufficient to see beyond your shadow.”

Henry laughed yet felt annoyed. He reached into his pocket to reveal a small velvety box to Mark. “When she becomes my wife, you won’t get fifty meters around her shadow.”

The guts of the guy made absolutely no sense to Mark who, out of instinct, just burst out laughing. There was a passer-by, alerted by the bizarre sounds of laughter.

“I don’t know if you’re either too stupid or too delusional but thanks for the laugh.” Mark concluded and threw his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture.

In any other setting, Henry would have grabbed Mark by the collar. He took a step closer to Mark’s silhouette. “Why? Think it is going to be you whom she chooses?”

Undeterred by the feelings of a broken heart twisted by an invisible knife, Mark mirrored Henry’s actions to also take a step forward. “Doesn’t matter who it is going to be but sure as hell it’s not going to be you, doctor. If you can keep calling yourself that.”

“Mark.” Samantha’s voice broke the tension between the two men and caused them to back away from one another. Henry put the velvety box back in the pocket of his coat, regaining his self-confidence. He met Samantha with one of his charming smiles, but she did not pay him any attention. Her eyes were focused on Mark, in a contradiction of happiness and fear. “You paged me, did anything happen to you?”

Mark glanced at Henry, signaling that he wanted to get some privacy with her.

“Let’s go to my office.”

“Will I have the honor to see you a tad later? I’ll get you home.” Henry chirped but Mark and Samantha turned their backs to him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He finally spoke, unable to acknowledge he was no longer Samantha’s main focal point.

Samantha closed the door of the office behind her in a clumsy motion, struggling to gather the words to speak. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, I thought you were flying out?”

Mark turned to her and voluntarily allowed her to see the sadness and impatience flowing over his face. “I am, the van is parked outside. I wanted to see you one last time.”

Samantha scoffed and suddenly felt like throwing up. She quickly recalled the looming feeling of the morning, Murphy’s refusal to leave Mark’s house. “One last time? You’re coming back soon; we’ll get to see each other again.”

Biting in the plush of his inner cheek, Mark walked towards her and tenderly cupped her face. “I cannot see you again, Sam. We won’t see each other again. I came to say goodbye.”

She shook her head in disbelief, watching Mark with a desolate expression. “What, no, no you can’t. What do you mean goodbye?”

The tear rolling down Samantha’s cheek twisted the knife deeper into Mark’s heart. He guided his thumb to wash it away. “I cannot be with one foot in and have the other ready to go. It’s very, very painful for me, and I can’t force you to love me if you don’t. I tried to be that guy, but I can’t. I want people to see us out in the street holding hands, I want people to hear us when we’re making love and know it’s me in our bed. I want to experience things I’ve never felt before with you. I want to kiss you right in Henry’s fucking face and I want all the love songs I’ll write to have you as their muse. Everyone else fades was about you. I don’t want to see you with anyone but me.”

Mark leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on Samantha’s forehead, his lips finally whispering against skin as he pulled her into him. “I’m so sorry.”

Samantha’s eyes peeled wide open with each sound crossing the barrier of Mark’s lips, with each pulling the rug from under her feet. She did not become aware of when heavy tears flattened against her features, no whimper leaving her chest. The silence was deafening, and Mark was one inch away from slipping into a place where she could not reach. The warmth of Samantha’s tears was flooding into the crook of Mark’s neck, and he had to gather all ounces of strength to keep himself together.

Still, voice was trembling. He wouldn’t wish in his wildest dreams to make her cry, when he convinced himself, he would never. “I have to go, Sam. Please, let me go. I need you to be fine with it, you must be fine with it so I can go.”

No physical counter could account for the pain stacking up in Samantha’s being. Mark placed another butterfly peck on her forehead as he distanced his body from hers, briefly caressing her hand with his. Just as Mark was about to turn the knob of the door, a cry bubbled out from Samantha’s mouth.

“How will I love you if you leave?”

Mark’s fingers froze on the knob, his head jolting back to capture Samantha’s saddened frame. To then face her in utmost distrust. That was no moment for his mind to have him hallucinate. “What did you say?”

The woman faced Mark, repeating the sweet words Mark wished to hear, in the faintest of murmurs. “I love you, Mark.”

A sole tear escaped the chains of Mark’s eyelids, and he approached Samantha carefully, barely grasping the events unfolding. Samantha gathered from behind the thick veil formed on her irises that he was still there, still in her proximity. “I didn’t know I loved you the first time you left a note on my coffee table that you walked Murphy after that heavenly sex. I didn’t acknowledge I loved you when I poured my heart out in the rain to the other side of the world where you were, in New Delhi. I understood I loved you when you said you’d take me with you to see the world. And I felt I loved you when you were running through my fingers last night.”

Mark rushed to envelop her absolute anatomy into his arms, swallowed by the need to feel her every atom at the tips of his fingers. There was no force tempting her to break down crying, she was just silently staring into an empty imperfection in the floor. “I was so afraid you’d leave me.”

“I was so afraid you’d never have me,” Mark countered and buried his face into the crown of her head. “Gosh, I feel like an idiot now.”

“Will you leave me?”

When Samantha gathered the strength to finally make eye contact with Mark, the image of her, with the porcelain skin glowing underneath the cascade of tears, with the glimmer of the eye burning with fear, was alluringly devastating. Samantha was convinced the wound of a bullet wouldn’t hurt as badly as Mark denying their love. It all should have started to fall in place. It all should have started to make sense. She should have thanked every deity the otherworldly coincidence for putting mister Dalton into her path, and she also knew she had a long way of repenting for the hurt she caused to Mark. Part of which he confessed again, one too many times. For all of which, she almost chose to ignore.

Almost is never enough.

“It’s almost been half an hour; we are going to lose our plane.” Jinyoung observed, growing steadily impatient. “Someone should go and get him.”

“I’ll go,” Jackson volunteered, fixing the champagne-colored shirt on his body. “We all know how shit this situation is but you of all people should know not to get mad.”

Jackson hopped off the car, to make his way to the hospital entrance. With the paparazzi resurfacing all of a sudden, he wished to be fast and smooth and not attract any more unwanted attention that would add to the already poor situation. Jackson followed the directions to a corner of the lobby where the management offices were listed and took an elevator to the second floor, in search of Samantha Stoss’ office. A quick question, among his fine features and a gentle smile, was all he needed to locate the room towards the middle of an adjacent corridor. From far away, Jackson noticed two people were coming to the same direction as he was going, a beautiful curly haired woman, and a tall blonde manly figure, both in surgical attire.

The faster they approached, the more he recognized the man was the same in the picture with Samantha, straddling the two wheeled vehicle. Their presences were the sole ones in the corridor. Not the one to jump so quickly to conclusions, Jackson chose to be mindful of the other man’s actions.

“Could we help you with something, sir?” the man spoke, a hint of confusion in his voice as he failed to place Jackson in that scenery. It was clear that he did not know who he was. Not the same could have been said about his companion, whose eyes acknowledged his presence differently from that of a complete stranger.

Leena watched him intently and the virtually unnoticeable gesture of her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue forced Jackson to linger slightly. “Oh, don’t mind me, thank you. I am here for Doctor Stoss.”

Jonathan quirked his eyebrows. “Samantha is quite popular around these parts. So, I gather there’s someone else besides Mark?”

The last remark was intended more for Leena who reciprocated Jackson’s lingering action. “I am not sure bandmates toss their girls around to one another. Am I wrong?”

Jackson chuckled and Jonathan could not help but feel dissatisfied with the exchange. “Much to my dismay, Mark met Doctor Stoss first. Otherwise, who knows?”

Leena laughed and before Jonathan had the chance to reply, Jackson continued. “Apologies, I wish I had more time to stay, I came to take Mark, so we won’t lose our flight.”

“Mark is here?” Leena followed curiously and watched Jackson extend his hand to open the door. Then, leaning to Jonathan, voice lowering into a whisper, eyes fixated on Jackson’s body dressed elegantly in Louis Vuitton attire. “What if they’re having sex?”

“I’d feel too bad to end the goodbye sex.”

Jackson opened the door to meet a hugging Samantha and Mark. Fully clothed otherwise, Jackson noticed Samantha’s face was smeared with tears and he could only hope Mark made it as easy as possible. The couple quickly pulled apart, and Samantha brought her hands to her eyes, to wipe them. Mark frowned at Jackson, if anything to show genuine confusion.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“I hope you’ve finished breaking up because as of right now, you do not really have any other choice.” Previous chapter

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barnesafterglow · 3 years ago

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505

summary: love can only last so long for two highly trained assassins

pairing: assassin!bucky x assassin!reader

word count: 6k

warnings: mentions of reading being "physically fit" due to training but no other body description, use of hard drugs/overdose, described murder, weapons, mentions of torture (this does get mildly graphic but not like... gory idk), smut (MINORS DNI), use of fake names, a lot of reader's background comes from the show scandal

a/n: i know the warnings make this sound super hardcore but it's really not terrible, but do heed them if you're sensitive to anything mentioned (and if you have any specific questions feel free to message me about it!!). i actually really enjoyed writing this even though it took me about two weeks of going back and forth. also loosely inspired by 505 by the arctic monkeys. always thankful for @pellucid-constellations who tells me whenever my writing is shit xoxo

505. Exactly where you needed to be. In less than 30 seconds, you had the lock picked and stepped silently into the room. It was a pretty typical target: son of a politician, kept entertained by money, drugs, and women. From the drug you had slipped into his drink at the bar downstairs, you suspected he should already be sedated in the room. However, you didn’t expect to see him already tied up, body slumped over in a chair. Just as quickly as you realized, you had your gun pulled from your thigh holster, pointed at the figure across the room.

With your guns trained on one another, he stepped out of the shadows. Another thing you hadn’t been prepared for: your unexpected guest was also the most beautiful man you had ever seen. You both slowly circled the room, sizing each other up.

“Who the hell are you?” Your voice was strong and commanding, and obviously seemed to have taken him aback. A small surge of pride was over you as his composure cracked, for a brief second, before hardening back to his impassive expression.

“Who the hell are you?” The nerve of this man, as if you would tell him. Well, the shoe’s on the other foot and all that. The most important question here was why. Why did he have your target tied up? Why was another organization able to get their hands on your intel? Why hadn’t you made a move yet?

At this point, you weren’t entirely interested in digging for information you likely wouldn’t get from this man, or the one on the chair. You just wanted to take out the mark and get back to your own hotel. You could see your feelings mirrored in your competitor, and decided you might as well press your luck.

“Let’s make a deal. I won’t kill you, you won’t kill me, and we can both kill this target. Whatever information you're looking for I’ll be able to keep to myself and then we can both be on our merry way. I’m not in the mood for a fight tonight, and you’re way too pretty for what I would do to you.”

This time, he couldn't mask the surprise on his face, or the quirk of his mouth as he contemplated your offer. Finally, he nodded, gesturing at your gun to call a truce. You both lowered your weapons before taking a few steps to meet in the middle of the room.

“James Grant, pleasure to meet you.” He let out a small huff of laughter at your narrowed eyes, holding his hand out for you to take. “I’d like to at least know what to call the beautiful woman I’ll be working with.”

Reaching to give him a dainty handshake you answered, “Elizabeth Hart. Though that’s not what my friends call me.” If you were never going to see this guy again, might as well have a little fun right?

“Oh, is that right? And when do I get the pleasure of being considered your friend?” Wanting to match his demeanor, you informed him that after this was finished you might give him a little more. At this point, you were practically nose to nose, his breath hot on your cheek. Just as he made the tilt of his head towards your mouth, you stepped back.

“Oh James, I know you're smarter than that. Let’s get a move on here. What was your plan? He’s too young for potassium chloride, they’d never believe a heart attack - I personally have some coke laced with fentanyl. Figured with a 21 year old playboy who frequents parties just like tonight’s, it’d be automatically ruled an overdose. Thoughts?”

(Bucky's thoughts were that he might already be in love, not that he would ever tell another soul that bit of information, least of all her.)

“I figured pills, but I like your idea better.” He immediately wanted to wipe the smug look off your face. “Don’t get too flattered, sweetheart, I really-” He was cut off by the groan of… what was his name again? John or Josh or something of the like. Though you had just been talking about the details of his death, you nearly forgot he was even there.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. It’s time we all have a little chat.” You had mastered the sickly sweet and condescending tone, it just made it all the more fun. He started begging to be released, bribing you with money, the typical responses you usually got. Instead of listening to his pleas, you and James started a fun little game. One of you would ask a question, he would refuse to answer, the other would force a line up his nose, then discuss your favorite techniques, weapons, etc. until he finally gave in. Once he started babbling and dribbling vomit, you set your stage. While James unreleased him from the satin restraints (perfect if you didn’t want to leave any obvious marks), you set up some lines of coke, adding the finishing touch of a streak right under his nose. Looking up from your handiwork, James had an expression akin to awe on his face.

“As much as I adore that look you’re giving me, I think it might be time to get out of here.” You fully expected to get out of this hotel and part ways, and never see each other again; but apparently James had other plans. The second the elevator doors closed, he had you pushed against the wall, lips on yours like his life depended on it. He wasted no time kissing down your neck and the deep slope of your dress, until the elevator dinged, signaling that you had arrived at the lobby. The both of you exited with perfectly blank expressions, as if you were total strangers, but once you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you turned your head just enough for him to hear you.

“My hotel is two blocks away. Be smart about it.”

You’d had a lot of sex, and you had no shame about it, but James was irrefutably the best you’d ever had. His head was buried between your thighs as he pulled your third - fourth? - orgasm out of you. He hadn’t even fucked you yet, and you already knew he was the best. By the time he let his lips trail back up your body, you were begging for more.

“Be patient, Liz, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” With that he pinned your hands above your head, and took the moment of surprise to bury himself in you. The feel of him stretching your walls was an incredible euphoria you didn’t think you could ever describe with words. His precise movements had him grazing your sweet spot with every thrust, and you were a whining mess beneath him. “Go ahead, baby, make a mess all over me.” Determined to edge you on, he put all his effort into sucking new marks across your neck and collarbones, until the coil winding in your stomach finally snapped.

As your high crashed over you, he took the opportunity to change positions, pulling you into his lap for you to ride him. This new angle pushed him even deeper into you, and you didn’t think it could get any better until he lifted his hips to push into you even more, causing him to bury his cock so far into you, you thought he might very well have bruised your cervix.

The throbbing pulse of you wrapped around him as you came down from your orgasm had him crying out and sputtering a string of expletives as you felt him get closer to his edge.

“You gonna let me fill this pussy up, pretty girl? You look so good on top of me like this. Wanna stuff you so full I’m leakin’ out of ya for days, that way you never forget who fucked you this fuckin’ good.” The nodding of your head was so urgent and pleading he had to close his eyes as his hips finally stuttered, keeping his promise of stuffing you full. As they finally fluttered open, he was graced with the sight of you with your hands splayed across his chest, barely able to hold yourself up. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in for another searing kiss before gently lifting you off his lap and beside him in the bed.

For as physically fit as your training had made you, it took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to catch your breath. Once your chest finally began to fall into an even pattern, you glanced over to James, who was already staring at you. The skip in your heartbeat had you slipping out of the bed and heading for the bathroom to gather yourself. By the time you came out, you fully expected him to be dressed and ready to go, but instead he was resting with his back against the headboard, hands tucked behind his head, clad only in his boxers.

“I promise I won’t kill you if you let me stay the night.” His lazy smile somehow made you give him all the trust in the world. It shouldn’t, considering you were both highly trained assassins, but you figured if you were gonna die you might as well do it sexually satisfied.

“Fine, but I’m not spooning you.” You giggled, actually giggled, as he tugged you flush against his body. And either by exhaustion or comfort, you slept better than you had in years.

The sound of the door shutting early the next morning had you sitting straight up, the gun you had hidden beside the bed already cocked and aimed. It took you about 10 seconds of disorientation before you realized it was James sneaking out. Holding onto the fond memories of last night, it took you a moment to notice the scrawl across the hotel notepad beside the bed.

hope i see you again soon.

ps, i wanted to give you a little hint: buchanan

Below there was also a crude drawing you couldn’t quite make sense of. Resigned to just figure it out on your plane ride home, you slipped it into the side pocket of your bag before gathering the rest of your things.

One last look around your hotel room cemented the rush of memories from your heated night with James. Wherever he was, you hoped he would think about you just as much as you would him.

Back in D.C., you were still staring at the note James had left you, until your boss knocked on your office door. Olivia waited all of 5 seconds before turning the handle, barely giving you enough time to stuff the note underneath a stack of case files.

“Good morning, Y/N. You’re glowing; did you get lucky on this mission?” She already knew - Olivia knew everything before it even happened. But your power nearly rivaled hers, so what she didn’t know was who it had been. Although you supposed you really didn’t know either. “Don’t answer, of course you did. You brought Quinn coffee this morning and you don’t do that unless you’re in a really good mood. And seeing as you only got back yesterday, you haven’t really had time to do anything other than get laid.” Damn her, genius woman. “Oh, and you didn’t do a very good job of covering those hickies.” Choking on your own spit, you looked up to see the ridiculously smug look on her face. You were lucky she was your best friend or you would be fucked. People rarely came out unscathed when they got on the wrong side of Olivia Pope.

“Yes, fine, I had the best sex of my life. That’s all you need to know for now. So, you’re here on a Monday morning instead of The White House, what’s going on?” Olivia, along with you and two other amazing women, ran OPA by day and B613 by night. So on your average day, when there was no one needing to be questioned or killed, the three of you worked as a team to mitigate the crises of Washington D.C.’s politicians and elite. By night, you managed a covert government agency known as B613. Well, you managed the field agents while Olivia took care of the rest.

“I just got a call from Nicholas Fury. He has a problem that he believes we can help with.” Nicholas Fury, like, the Nick Fury, director of SHIELD? What the hell was going on? “He’s sending two partners,” she meant government assassins, “to us right now. Their plane from New York lands in two hours, do you think you could pick them up?”

This was an odd situation. While SHIELD held a reputation, albeit disguised under a legitimate government corporation, you all preferred to keep under the radar. And by under the radar, you meant only the only people outside of OPA that knew B613 existed was the president and the head of the CIA. So why were you suddenly teaming up with SHIELD? It didn’t make sense, so you asked her as much.

“Let me rephrase; he needs help from OPA. There’s been an issue with one of their own that they need handled discreetly.” She paused to take in the look on your face. “No more questions, you’ll know the rest when they get here.”

Senator Alexander Pierce. Of course. Best friend of Nick Fury and certified scumbag, had been made aware of the more… intense work that SHIELD did. Fury wanted you all to uncover something career-ending on Pierce before he could take his news public. Simple enough. Your personal approach here was to torture him for information, scare him enough that you most likely would never have to use it, and be on your way. Of course, you couldn’t let these two agents - you had learned their names were Steve and Natasha - know your plan. Instead, you exchanged a look with Olivia, who ushered them into her office.

You turned towards your friends with a pleasant, almost eerie smile. “Okay, ladies, let’s do this. Abby, start digging. Quinn, come with me.” Abby headed to her office to dive headfirst into her slew of confidential files, while you started explaining your plan to Quinn, who was more than happy to be of help.

By the time Natasha and Steve were stepping out of the office, you already had the entire plan put together.

Abby had found some interesting paper trails regarding Pierce’s involvement with exclusive escorts. While this was a good start, it was nowhere near the catastrophic level needed in this case. But it was posed in such a way that the SHIELD agents wanted to be involved in this part of the investigation directly. So while Abby held them with tracking down his tricks and forming a timeline, Quinn would keep surveillance outside Pierce’s house while you made your way inside to interrogate. Olivia would return to her usual Capitol duties, more so to keep her name out of the news than anything, unless she was needed in a detrimental situation. Once you had the information you needed, Abby would create some fake documents to back up your findings, and Fury would be satisfied. The plan was so simple, so easily executable that not even Quinn in her first week at the firm could have screwed it up.

But of course, your life was never easy.

About a week later, you sat happily humming to the song that had caught your ear on the radio, debating your next move with Pierce. It was a very methodical routine you had: cause a little pain, remove the duct tape from his mouth, press record. If he gave you information, you gave him a break. If he refused, you would start all over. You had been going at it for a little over an hour now, the sun long set, when you heard the creak of a floorboard by the back door. Feeling an overwhelming sense of deja vu, you were on your feet, gun trained on the dark figure. The sight of James made your knees nearly buckle. What the hell is he doing here?

“You,” the viciousness in your voice clearly unnerved him, because he lowered his gun in surrender. But you were on the defense now, deep suspicion creeping into the back of your mind. You didn’t believe in coincidences, especially not in this line of work. He had to have been following you, maybe even before you met in that hotel room. Considering the fact that you were halfway around the world that last time only added to your substantial misgivings. With each step toward him - gun still aimed - he took one back, until he was against the wall. You trailed a hand down his jaw, then lower to grip his throat, just to watch him shiver. “Hey, pretty boy. Wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Another chill ran through him at the deep, sultry tone of your voice.

“Yes, yes, let me explain. Not here, you know that, but I’ll explain.” His extreme willingness also made you weary, but maybe he was just stupid. Regardless, you still had a job to do.

“Are you going to kill me?” He shook his head. “Okay, well now that that’s settled, either help me or sit there and shut up. Or if you would like to give me a little hint about our talk later, I promise he’s in no position to repeat anything right now.”

“I’m here for him,” he gestured toward Pierce’s paling body. “That’s all I can say for now.”

It shouldn’t have shocked you, really it shouldn’t have. But it did and now all you wanted was to know more. But you still have a job to do. Your conscience was very dedicated to her work, obviously. So James sat beside you on the floor while you finished, watching you more than anything else.

You spent another two or so hours slowly dragging the information out, with James occasionally lending a hand. When you were done, you cleaned his visible wounds and packed up your bag of goodies, leaning down to whisper one last threat as you turned toward the back door, gesturing for James to follow you.

On the way out the back door, you made sure to wipe any evidence of your being there and re-enabled his security system, as well as shooting Quinn a message of “all clear”, and waited to hear the surveillance van pull off. Turning to James, you nodded toward the road, and he quickly fell in step behind you. The four block journey to your car was absolutely silent, bordering on tense, yet not quite. For some reason, your suspicion had subsided, and that caused you to make an incredibly stupid, possibly catastrophic, decision as you approached the vehicle. James stood fidgeting on the sidewalk, waiting for your next move. You sighed, knowing you were about to seal your fate.

“Get in, we’re going to my place.”

As soon as the two of you stepped into your loft, you had your gun pressed into James’ back.

“Sit down and start talking.” You gave him a push towards the couch and took a seat across from him in your chair. You didn’t want to let on that you had a sense of trust in him, or that you already had feelings that were more than a heated one night stand. He looked you in the eyes, and you tried to keep them emotionless, before taking a deep breath.

“I work for SHIELD-” He can’t get any further because you let out a gasp and drop your gun onto your living room rug. Your eyes flashback to that stupid drawing on his note - a shield. You want to say so many things, but you need more answers, so you just nod and let him continue. “Nat and Steve, they’re my best friends, we all work at SHIELD. They were supposed to come down here to get dirt on Pierce while I - well, while I took care of him. But then I saw you, and it felt like my heart got ripped out of my chest. There was always a rumor in our unit that OPA was somehow involved, but I didn’t expect for it to actually be B613. And you, no wonder you’re so goddamn good at what you do. Do you know they call you the Night Witch? Most people think you’re just a ghost story - like the Winter Soldier. But here you are, and I know you could and probably will kill me, but I’m begging you not to. We can work together. I want to, I want everything for you.”

You stared at him, for far too long, trying to decide what to do. You had never been in any situation like this before, and that said a lot considering your jobs. While all logic seemed to fail you,your instinct never lied. So even though your brain was screaming at you to stop, you lurched forward and crashed your lips to James’, desperate for another night like you had just a week ago - had it really only been a week? As you moved to straddle him, he grabbed your hands and held them to your chest, whispering something so low you could barely hear. “Bucky.”

You cock your head to the side, staring at him with wide eyes.

“James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. That’s my real name.”

You pressed your lips to his again, foreheads resting together, and told him your full name. The thought of revealing your true identity, your true double life, with someone you barely knew had you both terrified and giddy. Pushing away your fear of tomorrow, you pull him from the couch and into your bedroom, not wasting a minute before you’re both wrapped in bliss.

You don’t think Olivia had ever been more mad at you. Once you arrived the next morning, she dragged you into her office before you could get a word in. The look in her eyes said nothing but speak, so what else could you do? When you finished, she proceeded to let you know what an idiot you were, how she wouldn’t hesitate to have you taken out if you threatened the security of B613, and also that she loved you despite all that.

“When you came back from that mission, that was the happiest I had seen you since-” You cut her off with an ice cold glare. “It’s the happiest I had seen you in a long time. Even now, I can tell something’s different. So just- just be smart, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt in any way.”

As far as Olivia Pope goes, this was as close to a blessing as you would ever get. You weren’t going to take it for granted.

By the end of the week, Natasha and Steve seemed to be satisfied with the amount of information you had collectively gathered. Along with making no public appearances - you may be a little proud of your handiwork - they assumed all way clear for the time being. On your way to drop them off at the airport, you wanted to ask about Bucky, learn more about him, more than just what was shared over takeout and long nights in your bed. Obviously, you knew you couldn’t, but you wanted something real with Bucky. Even with Peter, you had never felt this before.

Peter Quill, the man you thought was with you till the end. Also the same man who tried to kill you and everyone you loved. You had let him into your life and he betrayed you at the first opportunity. You were forced to kill the man you thought you would marry to protect OPA. You couldn’t handle that heartbreak again.

All you could do was hope that Bucky was different.

This was your favorite part. Sauntering up to the bar, you leaned over to get the attention of the bartender. Once you had ordered your drink, you glanced to your right to see Clint Barton looking directly down the front of your dress - go figure. You gave a flirty wink, planting the bait. He attempted to chat you up while you waited for your drink, and a hand slipped to your lower back. He was so close to your mouth you could smell the whiskey and cigars on his breath. Right as he tried to close the distance between you two, Bucky was at your side, giving him a slight push backwards.

“Woah, dude, what’s your problem?” Clint’s words slurred, and it only makes this plan even sweeter.

“I’m her husband, and who the hell are you?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you.

“I’m Clint Barton, baby, and your wife here is one hot piece of ass. It’d be a shame if you didn’t share.” You can tell in his mind that he thought that was a smooth line, but if it had been anyone else on the receiving end, he would have been laid out right in the middle of the bar floor. Unfortunately for him, you and Bucky weren’t just ‘anyone else’ and he was in for a hell of a night.

“You know what, I think you’re right.” Bucky nodded to you, knowing your confirmation will officially seal the deal.

“Yeah, honey, James here doesn’t mind sharing. Meet us up in our room in 10 minutes. Room 218, don’t be late.” With that, you reached over to grab your glass from the bartender, and Clint was too busy staring at your chest again to notice you slip something into his drink. As you turn, Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist to lead you out of the bar, and you gave Clint one final wink before disappearing.

That was how you and Bucky spent the next few months, helping each other on missions that were meant to be solo, and making them even more fun. In such a short time you had fallen so deeply in love with each other. The weeks you spent away from each other broke your heart, him in New York and you in D.C. But every chance you could get away, mission or otherwise, you were attached at the hip. No one knew but Olivia - and Steve, Bucky needed a cover - and she had become surprisingly supportive. After the third weekend in a row you disappeared, she demanded to meet him. The two of them together in your apartment started with incredible tension, but by the time Olivia left you could feel the mutual respect.

You started to let yourself dream a little; dream about a normal life, stepping down from B613, just staying at OPA for Olivia’s sake, and maybe even moving out of the city and settling down eventually. And you wanted that all with Bucky. Each time you saw one another, it felt like it was another step closer to being possible.

Until around the eight month mark, you stopped hearing from him. He stopped answering your calls and eventually his number became disconnected. When two weeks passed and Olivia hadn’t heard from you, she showed up to your apartment to find you curled on the couch. You hadn’t moved in eight days, except to use the bathroom and grab crackers from the kitchen. You stared at the TV crying, and when you could cry anymore, you just stared. Olivia wanted to be mad, and she was, but more than that she was heartbroken to see her best friend in such an awful state. You hadn’t even been this bad after Peter. Bucky had taken your heart with him wherever he disappeared to. Olivia left and was back within an hour with groceries. After she put food in the oven, she cleaned your bed sheets and put them in the washer, then coaxed you to the shower to clean up. After you had eaten a few bites of dinner, she put you in bed and held you until your tears lulled you to sleep.

She did this for another few weeks, gradually getting you back out into the world, whether it be to grab coffee, walk in the park, and eventually spending time in the office not even working, just to be there. At the two month mark, you begged her for a mission - anything to take your mind off Bucky.

You threw yourself back into your work, acting like you had never even met him. You knew this would come back to bite you in the ass, but the only thing on your mind was not having him on your mind.

Every mission you were a little more reckless, doing whatever necessary to finish the job, even if it wasn’t the safest. What was the point, right?

The point, it seemed, was to face your demons. You just didn’t know that yet.

You were in Berlin when it all fell apart.

Olivia didn’t want you to go solo, wanted Quinn at your side just in case, but you insisted. Against her better judgement, she allowed it; she was doing a lot just to keep you sane these days.

That’s how you ended up in the back room of this seedy club, perched on the lap of the most notorious gang leader, Jonas Remmo, in Northern Berlin. You weren’t even there to take him out, just get a little information to kickstart Olivia’s investigation. So you were whoring yourself out for the night; it wasn’t the first time and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. As you listened to Jonas talk about business you had no interest in, you noticed a guard of his by the closest door was particularly fidgety. Getting suspicious, you leaned down to whisper in Jonas’ ear that you would be right back, and he waved you off. Before you were fully in the bathroom, someone had shoved you in and slammed the door closed, pushing your back flat against it. Your gun clattered across the tiles, and wide eyes looked up into familiar blue ones.

You felt the blood drain from your body, and all of a sudden you were back on your couch, wallowing in your heartbreak.

“What the ever loving fuck are you doing?” You hissed, body going rigid with anger. This couldn’t be real life, it just couldn’t. This is the kind of shit that only happens to main characters in a TV show. “I could kill you right now, I hope you know that. I have more knives strapped to my body than you could ever guess, and no reason not to do it. Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

“Baby, let me explain, please. It just-”

“Don’t fucking call me baby.”

He took a step back, then two more. He was walking on thin ice and he knew it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I could give you any more words to express how sorry I am. Fury sent me off the grid, to Siberia. I didn’t have time to tell you, or anyone for that matter. I think he was catching on to us; he thinks I can’t do my job if I’m ‘distracted’. And normally I would say he was wrong, but I haven’t thought of anything but for months; I would do anything for you. I would leave this all behind for you without hesitation. I just want a second chance, even a chance at a second chance. Please.”

“You want me to forgive you? And expect you’ll want to give all this up? We’re in this till we die, Buck. You know that as well as I do; there’s no getting out. I don’t want to hear pretty promises you can’t deliver on.”

“Baby. Sorry, just please. Give me the chance to prove myself. I’m all in for you. I-” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I love you.”

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and you thought he might be about to drop to his knees to beg. He brought your walls down, and you didn’t make good decisions. You needed to think this through on your own.

The breath you took in was more of a rasp, and Bucky’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry, you need to leave. I just- I can’t give you an answer right now, and I have a job to do. If you still feel like this when I’m done, you’ll know where to find me. But this isn’t the time or place.”

All he could do was hang his head, knowing you wouldn’t change your mind - but he didn’t know how desperately you wanted to pull him into you. Instead, you both walked out the door, and you headed back to your mark. As you opened the curtain, you gave one last glance back at Bucky, who stood still in the crowd of people, looking at nothing but you.

The rest of the night could be described as one of the worst missions in your entire career. You were spaced out, and didn’t get any of the information you needed from this asshole. And once you stopped even responding to his advances, he pushed you off and told you to get out of his club. As much as you wanted to gut him for calling you useless, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Calling Olivia to update her on your failure, you step out into the night and find Bucky still outside, leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. The second he spotted you, he stomped it out and rushed over.

“I know you told me to get lost but I won’t be able to even sleep until I-” You didn’t let him finish before you were grabbing his face and smashing your lips to his. Any feeling was better than this empty, aching hole in your heart. After a second of shock, he grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body closer to his. It felt like everything was right in the world again, but your moment of bliss was cut off by Liv calling you back. You pushed yourself off Bucky before grabbing your phone, turning away from him. He grabbed your hand, but you simply pulled away from him, tears already streaming down your face.

Bucky watched you disappear into the crowds of downtown Berlin, his heart shattering along the sidewalk cracks, when he noticed you had slipped something into his sleeve. He looked down at the crumbled piece of paper, and he thought he might be able to sweep those shards of his heart from the ground.

Hotel MANI. Ask for Mrs. Barnes.

20 minutes later, Bucky was staring at the hotel door. Room 505, it felt like a sign. Hands shaking just a bit, he inserted the key and pushed open the door. Everything was dark, except for a soft glow from the bedroom. He carefully made his way across the room, and when he finally saw you, laid out in the bed, his heart all but stopped.

You were waiting for him, smile as bright as he had ever seen it, and he felt whole again.

“James Buchanan Barnes. I would do anything for you, too. Maybe I’m an idiot, maybe I should be stronger, but I don’t want to. Not when it comes to you. You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I can’t pass up the opportunity when I feel like this. Now stop looking at me with your mouth hanging open and get over here.”

Bucky was on the bed, kneeling in front of you, in less than a second; he took your face in his hands so gently it made you tear up. The kiss you shared was so full of love and intensity it was blinding, and everything felt right as you pulled him into you.

tagging fwens *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@lovinggbarnes @artisancowbells @comfortbucky @starrysebastians @starbuckie @calisamcro @buckys-darling @angrythingstarlight @asgardwinter @gray-reads @igotnoname4thisblog @signofthebarnes @cupidsbarnes @belouva @holylulusworld @buckydaddy

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dollslayer · 3 years ago

Text

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

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Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

#quotemeonit6kchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #college AU #college!bucky x reader #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel one shot #bucky barnes imagine #enemies to lovers

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kireijae · 4 years ago

Text

fearless — n.jm x reader

summary: you start a new job at your favourite local bookstore in seoul, however no one cared to inform you of the very pretty delivery guy who comes once a week.

genre: twist (ig?) on a bookstore!au, nonidol!au, fluff, angst, some crack too

warnings: swearing, detailed descriptions of food and eating, edited but not very well, i cried while writing it (if i forgot any or you want me to add specific ones, send an ask or message me!)

words: 6k

a.n: i worked so hard on this oh my goodness it was like giving birth dkfjdsfnsd. but really i love this one a lot so i hope you all enjoy it because i did my best to do the story i had in my head justice. also! let me know what you thought of it!

m.list

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The streets were quiet as you walked to the bookstore. Your bag was heavy in your hand and the sun danced around you, creating a blinding sort of glow on the pavement beneath your feet. You passed modern coffee shops and tall skyscrapers alike, buildings becoming more and more modern the longer you walked. All right angles, smooth surfaces and tinted windows glinting in the morning sun. It was only your second day on the job, but the route was already familiar to you, after having visited the bookstore quite often over the few years you’d been living in the city.

The tingling sounds of the old bell above the door fell around you like snowflakes as you stepped inside. It was quite literally like stepping into another realm. The floor was paved with stone tiles, little shoots of green peaking up between them here and there. The glass walls were lined with creepers and bookshelves alike and the glass roof allowed for the rays of sunlight to poke through the trees’ branches above.

Your eyes were pulled to Jisoo after her voice called to you from behind the cash register. “Good morning!” she said, eyes bright and her voice chipper.

She gave you a short list of things to do before opening the store while she did some admin in the back room. You rearranged bookshelves, tidied the seating area in the centre of the room, fluffing up the old embroidered cushions and wiping the coffee stain off the old wooden table. Once you heard the old clock near the counter sing its tune to signal the hour, you walked over to the door to flip the sign that hung there.

The day went by slowly, with barely any customers walking through the doors. You were half asleep at the register when you heard the bell at the door ring and you sat up from your crunched up position on the old stool. You blinked a few times in an attempt to wake yourself up completely, but your eyes widened when they focused on the person at the door.

You nearly thought it was a scene out of a drama. He walked in, and you swore you saw a curl of wind rush past him and fuss with his hair. Everything around him went out of focus — all your attention honed in on him. He had a white t-shirt on with a loose, light blue button up draped over his shoulders. His hair had to have been dyed, with the depth of the black that coated the strands, but it was still glimmering nonetheless.

You were paying attention to everything he did as he walked towards you, so luckily for you, you caught his words even through your haze.

“Hey, are you new here?” you finally noticed that he held a big cardboard box in his arms, fingers curled around the front, with the bottom of it resting on his forearms.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before any sort of sound could pour out, Jisoo came out from the back room. You were grateful for the interruption, seeing as you weren’t sure you could function correctly just then.

“This is only her second day, Jaemin,” she said, throwing him a knowing glance from the corner of her eye and taking the box from him, “don’t scare her off.”

“Now how would I ever scare someone off?” he leaned on the end of the counter, eyes following Jisoo’s form into the back room again.

The arm that wasn’t leaning on the dark wooden counter was hanging limply from his shoulder, his whole body conveying defeat from the forward curve of his spine to the slack of his jaw.

“You nearly knocked over an entire shelf of books on your first delivery here,” yelled Jisoo, still from the back room.

“I was nervous!” he straightened his posture, his hand now flat in front of you and his arm outstretched, “Anyways I better get going.”

He looked at you as he said it and you noticed the way the glint in his eyes seemed to dance and swirl around until he completely focused on you.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” you forced an arm out along with your words.

He took your hand gently and squeezed it, “I’m Jaemin. I don’t think I’ve ever shaken someone’s hand before. At least not someone my age.”

His tone seemed sincere, not teasing or judgemental — purely observational. He threw you a smile before walking out the door again. His light blue shirt billowing behind him when he opened the door.

“Don’t mind him,” Jisoo said, walking out into the store again with a pile of books in her hands, “he’s insanely annoying, but honestly it’s either him or the old guy who smells like mould. That smell hangs around even after he’s gone.”

Jaemin came back a few days later, no box in his arms this time and a black hoodie on his frame. He usually came once every week with a box in hand and his bright smile stretched out on his face. Some days he was there and gone within the blink of an eye and other days he hovered around the store, gabbering about anything and everything. Sometimes he came into the shop empty handed: no box full of books to deliver. Jisoo seemed surprised the first time it happened, pulling a face akin to one a girl looking at her brother who just barged into her room unannounced would wear. She said nothing of it, however, so neither did you.

One night at 9pm when you were left alone to close the store, he came rushing down the road in his company van and stumbled out onto the concrete. His hair was already messed up before the wind hit it, most likely from his running his hands through it as he so often did.

‘How does it still look so soft?’

“Please tell me I’m not too late?” he said when he was close enough to not have to yell over the wind.

“Hm?” you widened your eyes and leaned your head forward, trying to get yourself to pay attention to his words instead of the glow of his skin under the streetlights.

“If I have to take another delivery back because I missed it Mr. Yoo might kill me,” he said, his eyes held a plea in them.

“Oh,” you turned back, fiddling for the key in your bag, “Sure let me just open up again.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said, setting the box down on the counter after refusing to let you carry it into the store.

“I opened a door Jaemin,” you said, scoffing at him from the door, “it’s nothing. Plus, it’s worth it if it means your boss won’t kill you— What are you doing?”

“I’m helping,” he was faced away from you, hands working at (aggressively) opening the package.

You huffed and set your bag down next to you before walking over to him. You peered over his shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. It smelled fresh but sweet. He’d already taken half the books out and piled them on the counter and one or two had fallen down onto the lower half that formed the desk at which you’d fallen asleep at least five times that week.

“You actually just look like you’re making a mess, Jaem,” you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

He tried his best not to let the shy smile slither onto his face, “Then tell me where to put them.”

He turned around, obviously underestimating your proximity. You were only about five centimeters away from him — at most. He could count your eyelashes if he wanted to, and goodness knows he was tempted to. Anything to be able to look at you for a little longer.

Your heart beat sporadically in your chest, his energy making your system go haywire. You reached behind him to grab one of the books and pulled it towards your chest.

“You don’t have to help. I can do it myself,” you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, you hoped it looked like you were standing your ground and not like you were stuck in your place from the shock of being so close to him.

“I want to,” you swore his eyes glitched — or yours did — because you saw him steal a glance at your lips.

You turned around swiftly before you could think about it anymore, “Alright, it’s organised by genre but these are all just restocks so you can take a few of these to the back.”

It took less time than you thought to pack everything away and enter the stock on the system, nearly half the time it usually took you by yourself. Jaemin was a lot more helpful than you thought he would, and he was a lot stronger than he looked, too.

“Do you want a ride home?” came his voice from behind you as he reached over you to put the last book on a shelf.

“Uh, I’ll be fine by myself,” you said, walking away from the shelf to get your bag again and sling it over your shoulder.

“I need to say thanks for taking the delivery, though,” his hands were back in the pockets of his black skinny jeans. His gaze floated over to you, the bottom lid of his eyes slightly swollen with sincerity.

“You already helped me put the books away, you’ve done more than enough—”

“But, I did make you stay late. And the city’s not safe at this hour.”

You sighed in defeat and readjusted your bag. You did hate walking at night and you’d been on your feet most of the day, so perhaps it wasn’t the worst idea to accept the lift home.

He grinned when you accepted and led you over to the van and you tried not to make a comment about getting into a van with a stranger.

You’d been driving for about ten minutes when you signalled for Jaemin to pull over in front of your apartment building. You reached for the door handle to let yourself out of the car once it came to a stop, but before you could, a hand caught your upper arm.

“Y/n…” he trailed off, eyes on the bend of your elbow.

You waited a moment, “Jaemin?”

And when he didn’t answer, you waved a hand in front of his face.

“Hmm? Oh,” he blinked out of his state and looked at you once again, “Uh, never mind.”

Your brows gathered like the ruffles on a dress but you gave him a moment before he let go of your arm, “You’ve been watching too many dramas, Jaemin. What were you going to say?”

He seemed taken aback at first, your directness not something he had anticipated. But then he smiled.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out sometime,” his shyness was almost gone now, your honesty pulling it away from him.

“And? Do you still want to?”

“Yes.”

Your calm façade faltered when he handed you his phone and told you to put your number in it. His fingers brushed yours and you nearly shivered from the contact. However, you managed to hide it during your swift turn away from him.

He texted you as soon as you got into your apartment. You sat in bed for hours, hands grasping your phone. You only needed to wait a few seconds at a time for his replies. Your body hurt from being pushed into the mattress in such an awkward position, but you barely noticed it. Until it reached 3am that is. You had to force yourself to stop replying after the third time you’d sent a “goodnight, i’m actually leaving this time” text. You lay there for a while before you drifted off, thoughts of Jaemin floating through your mind.

Waking up the next morning was one of the hardest things you’d done in a while. Your eyelids felt puffy — you could feel them around your eyeballs everytime you blinked — and your neck hurt from being held up to look at your phone all night. The only reason you wound up going into work was because of one of Jaemin’s texts from last night:

“I’ll come by the bookshop after work sometime this week and we can have that date.”

“I mean hang out*! Unless you’re okay with it being a date? Bc I’d like that.”

—

None of the drinks in the convenience store looked like the one you wanted, or even close to it. Green, orange and yellow bottles lined the refrigerated shelves and you had no interest in any of them. You’d been standing at the back of the store in front of the refrigerators for a few minutes too long and at this point it was probably getting strange for the cashier. If they were even looking, that is. You realised in your short time in the retail industry that the cashiers are never looking at the customers. Most of the time they were zoned out, or on their phones and not watching the customer’s every move, though it still felt like it. You faintly heard the door swing open, but your eyes remained glued to the drinks on the other side of the glass, and your thoughts most definitely not on your surroundings.

Jaemin hadn’t been to the store in three days and he hadn’t texted you since yesterday. As much as you hated to admit it, that boy had got into your head and so, too, had insecurity. Though your rational mind tried to explain the number of reasons he hadn’t been able to come, your irrational mind seemed to be winning in thinking that he was tired of you. It was absurd that you were having this crisis in the middle of the juice aisle of a 7 Eleven at 10pm and you knew it. You also knew he probably had a busy day at work, he’d even told you last week how busy Wednesdays were for some reason, in fact he’d complained for almost ten minutes while you sat staring at the fluffy ends of his hair. But what could you have done to drive him away? Maybe it was the staring…

“This is getting painful.”

And now you were hearing his voice everywhere. It really was time for you to go home. Take a nap. Maybe it was exhaustion talking. After all, you had stayed up late talking to him last night and you had to get up extra early because you were the one opening the shop.

“Just take the pineapple one.” No, that had to be Jaemin.

You whipped around then when the realisation hit you, however, you still stumbled back a bit when you saw it was his figure standing behind you in the aisle.

“What?” Your brain was still cloudy from all the thoughts swirling around it previously, though they’d completely disappeared now that Jaemin was within your line of sight.

“Take the pineapple soda,” he said again, a giant, perfect smile on his face.

“I don’t like pineapple,” you said, gears in your head finally working again, “I was looking for—”

“Please don’t say strawberry,” he hung his shoulders when he saw the sly grin that crept its way onto your face. “Why does everyone love strawberry so much? It tastes like medicine.”

He took you by the hand and pulled you towards the door, passing the very much unconscious cashier on the way out.

“Where are you taking me to?” Your hand was limp in his, you didn’t have the confidence quite yet to be able to grip his hand back.

“That place never has strawberry soda, I’m taking you somewhere that does,” he didn’t let go of your hand for a second.

You watched him as he walked slightly ahead of you, his hair bouncing as he walked. He was wearing a ring, though you couldn’t see exactly what it was in the streetlights’ glow. It was cold against your skin despite his own skin being warm as well.

You walked for a few minutes before Jaemin’s head suddenly perked up like a puppy who’d heard its name being called.

“Do you hear music?” he asked, whipping his head around in an attempt to find where the waves of music were coming from.

“It must be from the park down that way,” you pointed past Jaemin, to the road on your right.

Jaemin grinned and pulled you with him down the empty road. The park came into view and you saw what seemed to be the remains of a festival. People were littered around the centre of the park, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Some were gazing up at the sparkling lights tangled among the branches, and others were dancing to the music playing.

Jaemin’s grin widened and he turned to you with bright eyes and a pleading expression on his face.

“I thought we were getting soda,” you said, with a smile on your face that told him there was no way you could say ’no.’

“Just ten minutes?” Jaemin bit his bottom lip in excitement as soon as he finished his sentence, he already knew your answer.

“Fine.”

By the time you got the word out, he was already pulling you after him to the row of trees.

Once you were on the path, beautiful trees surrounding you, Jaemin slowed down and craned his neck to look up. He squeezed your hand in order to get you to look up at the trees as well. Clouds of pink petals collected around the branches, and the lights shone like stars among them. The music and faint sound of cars filled your ears and the smell of freshly cooked food floated through the air.

“I’ve never been to one of these festivals at night,” you said, turning your head to the side to look at him instead.

Your words tore his eyes away from the view above, “Really?”

You nodded your head simply and the two of you continued walking in comfortable silence. Every now and then, drops of water fell from the trees above you like rain from the clouds, most likely from the rain that had run through the city earlier in the day. The music floated around your head, it was a song you didn’t remember the name of but the beat was familiar and it caused you to nod your head to the tune. Jaemin sensed the nodding of your head and did his best to hide his smile by looking down at the paved ground below him.

His gaze was brought back to you, though, when he heard a light giggle. Jaemin’s eyes followed your line of sight and found that you were looking at two kids dancing to the music. They bounced about with no sense of the rhythm of the music, giant smiles on their faces. He felt as though he was in the ending shot of a drama, a freeze frame centred on the main character, the background out of focus and the edges of the screen twinkling. Jaemin wanted so desperately to ask you to dance. Right there. In the middle of the park. And he considered doing it, too.

Just then, your smile widened as the two children began twirling aimlessly and Jaemin couldn’t stop himself from speaking his next words, “Did you want to da-“

Luckily for him, the rain was able to stop him when it suddenly came pouring down. Both of you stood frozen for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, until you started pulling Jaemin back the way you came.

“How far is the store you wanted to go to?” you asked when Jaemin furrowed his brows at you.

“Oh, right,” he said, grabbing your hand tighter and walking in front of you, “It’s just around the corner.”

Eventually he stopped the two of you in front of a frozen yoghurt shop. It was devoid of people except for the cashier, who you could barely make out the silhouette of in the neon lights.

He pulled you in through the glass door and pointed over to the drinks glistening in the lights. The whole shop was cold, making you put your hands on your upper arms to preserve heat. You took one of the many strawberry flavoured sodas off the shelf, but you shivered at the even cooler temperature inside the refrigerator. You stood there for a few seconds, thinking before grabbing a pineapple soda from the bottom shelf and turning around to head towards the cashier.

Jaemin was already sat at one of the white tables, facing away from you. The black material of his jacket hugged him comfortably, his body nearly drowning in the fabric. It made you want to wrap your arms around him, whether it was simply to get warmth or if it was to get to hold Jaemin, you weren’t sure.

You yanked your eyes away from him and went over to the cashier, setting the two bottles down on the counter.

“You don’t have to pay,” he said from his place on a stool near the cash register. He didn’t even look up from the phone in his hands, “It’s on the house.”

You jerked your head away in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“Really, you don’t have to pay for it” Jaemin’s voice came up behind you, “that’s my cousin, he’s trying to get fired.”

You looked back and forth between the two for a second, only just seeing the resemblance.

“What? Why?” you ask, not sure who to direct the question to, but that problem was solved when the boy sitting behind the register put AirPods in his ears.

“My aunt will kill him if he quits another job,” Jaemin snickered, “He’s quit five in the last four months.”

You walked over to Jaemin as he spoke and you noticed two cups of frozen yoghurt on the table.

“That has to be a record,” you sat down and Jaemin pushed one of the cups over to you. There was a curl of lilac coloured frozen yoghurt peeking out the top of the cup.

He chuckled, “Yeah, his mom completely cussed him out. But I’ve met the manager of this place and I would want to quit too if I were him.”

It was silent for a few seconds as you dipped the plastic spoon into the swirl of frozen yoghurt and hummed.

“You just don’t like him, because he stocks strawberry flavoured soda,” you spoke around your growing smirk before opening the can and taking a sip from said soda.

“Hey, at least I’m not the one mixing soda with frozen yoghurt,” he said, pointing to the aforementioned drink with a stern look in his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing through his judgemental facade, “You’ve never tried it have you?” His gaze melted into one of rather tense curiosity at your actions as you raised a spoonful of the frozen yoghurt to your mouth.

“No, doesn’t it feel weird?” he watched you with his confusion pulling on his brows.

“That’s the whole point,” you said, before following the spoon of yoghurt with a sip of soda again.

He quickly scooped some frozen yoghurt from the quickly diminishing supply into his mouth and then looked at you expectantly after swallowing, “So it’s like a chaser?”

You let out a giggle, “I mean kinda, yeah. Try it, but keep the soda in your mouth for a little.”

He reached out, took his soda into his right hand, and after opening it and giving it a curious look, he drank from it. His eyes widened at the pleasant sensation of fizzing and bubbling in his mouth and he pulled his lips together as if sucking from a straw. You laughed loudly at his animated reaction and tried to hold back the ‘I told you so’ that threatened to spill past your lips.

“Wow,” his mouth widened, his jaw comically lopsided, and held the can of soda out in front of him, looking at it as if it had just spoken to him. He then looked up at you, his expression turning back into confusion, “Why are you laughing?!”

“I’ve shown this to so many people, but they’ve never reacted like you just did,” you put a hand in front of your mouth as you continued to heave out giggles.

Jaemin’s features softened as he watched your eyes and nose crinkle from your laughter. A smile etched itself onto his own face at the sight and sound of you laughing at him. Your cheeks were jutting out to make room for your smile and he was sure your laugh was the best sound he’d ever heard. He was glad he could make you laugh so hard. Glad that he had any positive effect on you at all, really.

While the two of you continued talking, the sky outside emptied itself of rain until it had none left. The sound of rain clattering to the ground outside was replaced with only the occasional drip from the roof. However, neither you nor Jaemin would admit that you’d noticed it, instead opting to stay in the bubble your laughter and conversation had made around you. That was, until a set of keys was hurtled towards Jaemin, who very nearly caught them. They landed on the floor behind him and he twisted around to pick them up.

“What the hell?” said Jaemin, throwing his words at his cousin who had just woken up.

“When you’re done, lock up for me will you?” he said as he picked up a backpack from behind the counter, “But don’t stay too long, Jaemin, if you keep looking at them like that I’m pretty sure your eyes will turn heart shaped.”

Jaemin scoffed, watching his cousin disappear out the back entrance without another word, leaving only the lights above the refrigerators on.

“Alright let’s go,” he stood up and held his hand out for you to take and you couldn’t help the shy smile that pushed its way onto your face.

After locking up, the two of you began wandering the streets of Seoul, with no particular destination in mind. Jaemin kept your hand in his as you walked. The rain had stopped, but it had left blotches of water for you to dodge everywhere you went.

The boy next to you had become completely silent, the only sounds he made being occasional hums as you spoke. So eventually, you decided to let the sounds of the city enter the space between you instead of trying to fill it with your words.

You made your way to your apartment, Jaemin still by your side. When the two of you stopped in front of your building you had the urge to lean closer to him, to close your eyes and let your lips meld together in a kiss. You wanted to be as close to him as you could in that moment, but when he only gave you a rushed ‘goodnight’ and turned away, your hopes sunk down to the floor of your heart. As you watched him walk away, you felt coldness set in for the first time since you’d met him.

—

Three days after your date with Jaemin, an old man walked into the bookstore with a delivery box in his arms. You went around the counter to take the box from him and sign for the package, frowning all the while. The man left without saying a word, but when he turned around, you caught sight of what must have been a chewed piece of gum behind his ear. Your shoulders jostled in disgust as soon as he was out of sight.

A moment later, Jisoo appeared from the backroom. “Was that Jaemin?”

“No,” you said blankly before looking up from the box you’d just cut open, “but I have met the mold guy now, and you’re right. The smell does hang around after he’s gone.”

“Jaemin better be dying,” she said, going around the counter to start entering the stock on the computer, “or I'll kill him myself for staying home.”

“I don’t think he stayed home,” your shoulders slumped as you said it, “He probably changed his shifts.”

Jisoo hummed in confusion, signalling for you to elaborate. Her eyes were still on the screen but her face was aimed towards you.

“He hasn’t talked to me since we went on that date,” you huffed, placing your hands on your hips. Lifting books all the time still hadn’t become any easier since you‘d started this job. You had, however, learned to appreciate air conditioning after the one day it didn’t work and you were reminded why no one else had turned a greenhouse into a store of some kind.

That pulled Jisoo’s eyes away from the screen, “You went on a what? And he didn’t—? Okay, no, fill me in,” she leaned her forearms on the counter.

“Well, he asked me on a date that night that he made that late delivery, then didn’t specify a day or time and then found me in a convenience store and whisked me away on a really, really lovely date and then he didn’t call or text and now he’s most likely changed shifts because he hates me,” you took a sharp breath in at the end of your rambling.

“That doesn’t sound like something Jaemin would do,” she said, “I mean the last part, the late delivery and suddenly taking you on a date sounds just like him.” She paused for a moment, eyes cast down as she thought, “Have you tried texting him?”

“Of course I have.”

“And?”

“Delivered,” you deadpanned.

The bell on the door rang behind you and you rounded the counter to take over from Jisoo while she asked the customer if they needed any help. Before she left your side though, she sent you a sad, close-mouthed smile and squeezed your arm.

That night, as soon as you’d changed into comfortable clothing and sat on your sofa to watch reruns of an old show, you picked up your phone and wandered over to your chat with Jaemin absent mindedly. As you opened it, you felt a slight pinch in your heart. Maybe being left on delivered was better.

—

You held a bucket above the lamp in the centre of the room, the plop from the drops of water entering it being washed away under the sound of the rain outside the store. You were in the process of trying to place the pile of books you had in your hand onto the table without letting the drops of water get on the lamp, when you heard the sound of the bell ringing above the door.

It had been a while — maybe almost two weeks — since you’d last seen Jaemin; since you’d last talked to him. But now he pushed his way into the shop, bringing with him a whirlwind of the weather outside.

You looked over to his form in the doorway: a box littered with giant dark spots in his hands and his hair nearly dripping from the rain despite the hood of his sopping yellow raincoat framing his face.

When he caught sight of you, your arms holding books and buckets alike and struggling with both of them, he set the box down on the ground near a bookshelf and rushed over to take the pile of books from you. He set them on the old couch and helped you move the heavy lamp in order to put the bucket in its place to catch the water.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, keeping your eyes away from him.

“No problem,” he said, putting his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

‘He has no business looking that pretty.’

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while…”

You scoffed immediately, “You haven’t answered my texts in a while either.”

“I’m sorry about that too,” you can’t tell if he’s avoiding your eyes because he’s ashamed, or because he’s lying.

“Well, at least you don’t have to apologise for not reading them, because you most certainly did that,” you nearly felt bad as the words sprang out of your mouth, nearly.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice was weak, so were his words.

On hearing the words drop from his lips, your anger rose like a wave at high tide.

“Oh really? Then what exactly did you mean to do, Jaemin? Because, taking someone out on a date — which, by the way, was the best date I’ve ever been on — and then leaving them outside their apartment with barely a ‘goodbye,’ and not calling or texting for a week doesn’t sound like you’re trying very hard not to hurt someone.” You took a breath, before muttering, “Not to mention the fact that you switched your shift just to avoid me.”

“Fuck, I know, okay? I’m so sorry,” he looked up at you then, eyes shining with sadness, the excited glow diminished to barely a flicker, “I know I was an asshole. It was the best night I’ve ever had and I was an idiot not to hold on to you and I’m incredibly sorry. If I could rewind and do it the right way I would.”

“Then why’d you do it, Jaem?” his shoulders slumped at the change in your voice, you were holding back tears and you’d grown so small in front of him. His arms nearly wound themselves around you of their own accord.

“Honestly?” he took a moment to collect his thoughts and arrange them into words, “I was scared. It sounds insanely cheesy and like it comes from a Taylor Swift song or something, but the way you made me feel was terrifying.”

“Great, thanks, you really know how to make someone feel better,” You rolled your eyes, a tear falling down your warm cheek in the process.

He didn’t have time to stop the airy laugh that escaped him, “I felt fearless. You made me feel like there was nothing in the world that could stop me, as long as I was with you.”

You wanted to hate him, wanted to yell that that was bullshit. You wanted to push him out the door and into the rain yourself. But, you couldn’t. You knew he was being sincere. You knew it, because that was exactly how you’d felt and it had scared you, too.

“So you ghosted me completely? Because that doesn’t sound so ‘fearless’ to me,” you tried to keep your resolve until you got the answer you needed.

“Like I said, I was an idiot. It was stupid of me to try to get rid of someone who made me feel like that. I just — I’ve fallen for you so hard and so fast that it scared me, because by the end of the night I knew I wasn’t going to stop falling any time soon, I still haven’t. And then what if I lost you? What if I did something wrong and made you hate me?” he sighed, reigning in his thoughts and emotions, “So, I ran before I could fall anymore. I tried to minimise the pain before it even started.”

“So then, why are you here now?”

“This past week has felt like the place you go to if you’re too shitty even for hell,” he took a small step towards you, “I’ve already fallen way too hard to turn back. And plus, Jisoo called me and told me you were genuinely really upset and well, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. So, even if it means possibly getting my heart shattered by you in the future, I’d gladly do anything to make you happy.”

“Jae—”

“Oh and Jisoo said she’d get me fired if I didn’t at least explain myself and I really need the money so— Ow!” He rubbed the spot on his bicep where you’d pinched him. He still held a smile on his face from his own joke.

He was probably the happiest you’d seen someone who’d just been pinched, and suddenly, you couldn’t hide your own smile.

“Will you forgive me then? Or at least let me make it up to you?”

“Depends on how you plan to make it up to me,” gathering yourself, you turned around to enter the back room Jisoo was always hiding in, Jaemin following you close behind.

“What about a date? I’m on my lunch break right now and I just saw this—”

You stopped in the doorway and interrupted him, “I still have to work for another four hours, text me when your shift is over.”

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, uh, okay perfect. I will! I’ll see you later tonight then?” He began backing out of the bookstore with a giant, goofy smile plastered on his face.

Just before he opened the door, you called his name, “Jaemin! Actually text me this time okay?”

“I swear I will!”

if you liked this, buy me a coffee!

taglist: @infnteen (if anyone wants to be added, send an ask or a message!)

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gothfairyfrog · 2 years ago

Text

Treble-Boned

word count: 6k

comments: alr this is my first time writing a ff so plz bare w me LOLLL. enjoy 💀🫶

Me and the other Bellas were all waiting backstage to perform. We were all thrilled to have finally made it to the finals and be able to perform at The Lincoln Center. At that time it was 2011 and the Treblemakers were near the end of their song.

Multiple times I had noticed Bumper, their lead singer, making eye contact with me on the more sexual lyrics. It was odd but I brushed it off not thinking too much of it. Even if he did mean it in such a way, I could never give in. I was a Barden Bella! No matter how much any of us wanted to, we could never hook up with a Treblemaker or we were booted from the group.

“Finally they’re finished! Ugh!” Aubrey exclamed. She was right hand to our lead, Alice. Everyone was pretty sure she was going to take the reins after Alice graduated.

The Treblemakers were walking offstage giving us a nasty look. “You guys are going to do awesome…”. Bumper being nice? No shot. “…ly horrible! I hate you! Kill yourself! Girl power! Sisters before misters!” Aaaand there it was. Nobody could exactly tell why the Bellas and Treblemakers had such a deep rivalry, but after all these years both groups despised eachother.

As I’m walking on stage trying to find my position, I can see Chloe trying to calm down Aubrey. I wasn’t sure why since Aubrey was never nervous for anything. Not shortly after we started, she threw up all over the first 5 rows. That’s it. We had lost all respect from absolutely anyone. Loosing the finals due to a stomach bug sucks but its even worse when Bumper and his friends gloat their win. “Clean up in aisle 5, amirite guys!” I think I understand why the Bellas always hated them now.

Even though all that was last school year, it was still the talk of the campus. Nobody took us seriously and whenever we were seen in public we got nasty stares from other peers.

Aubrey and Chloe tried to get more girls to sign up for auditions at ‘Club Fair’. Long story short, nobody blinked an eye at our booth. After about 15 minutes I decided to go take a break from running the booth to walk around only to see Bumper and his gaggle of nerds singing in the courtyard. Of couse they were singing “Let It Whip”, why wouldn’t they be!

As much as I hate them I have to admit, they’ve got some of the best vocals ive ever heard. ‘Might as well watch them’, I thought. No harm no foul, right?

Suddenly Bumper locked eyes with me. Just like during finals. Maybe it was just an odd coincidence and I was overthinking. But if it was, why couldn’t either of us break eye contact. What the hell was happening and why couldn’t I stop it?

After they finished singing, I sheepishly sped walked away. I had no idea what had just occurred and I didn’t wanna start anything. There was absolutely no way I was going to let myself fall for a Treblemaker. Specifically Bumper of all people.

“Hey! Hey, y/n! Wait up!”

No way in hell was I going to turn back and face the man who had me in eyelock.

“Y/n, I know you can hear m-“

Benji cut him off with his shrieks of excitement. Thank god for that weirdo otherwise I would’ve been caught by Chloe who was right around the corner.

“Y/n there you are! I was so concerned when you just left abruptly.”

“Oh crap, sorry Chlo. I just needed to take a quick break”

Chloe quickly took my arm and dragged me back to our booth. I was greeted with a very angry Aubrey, and at that point I knew I was going to get a lecture about ‘maintaining my aca-duties’ or some crap. She’s been on some sort of power trip since she took over the Bellas.

“Aca-scuse me but where the hell have you been!? I have had to run this booth for the past 15 minutes and I am completely taken back by your carelessness.”

“Aubrey, I’m sorry” I replied “I just needed to take a short break. Plus 15 minutes isn’t even that lo-“

“Not that long?! You need to shape up immediately if you want to stay apart of this group.” She cut me off.

She treated me and Chloe like trash. Like we were inferior to her as if she wasn’t the one who made us lose our Finals. I didn’t want to get kicked from the only thing I knew as home, so I said my apologies and continued running the booth.

I guess I missed something cause when I looked at the sign up sheet there was almost 10 names. That might not sound like a whole bunch but in acappella it was practically perfect.

—

during auditions

Audition day was possibly one of my favorite things, besides competition. Getting to hear all the potential talent is so thrilling.

“Hey Bellas, remember how you tried to play in the big leagues and choked? Let that be a lesson to everybody. Sing the same girlie stuff every year, you’ll blow chunks all over the place.” Bumper and the rest of the boys snickered

God I hated them. He talks such a big game for no reason. I chose to ignore his silly antics and pretend I never heard him but Aubrey on the other hand stood up in anger.

“My fellow aca-people. As most of you know, it is a make or break year for the Bella ladies. But make no mistake. We will not let egotistical, big-headed, garbage pricks, WHOEVER they may be, get in our way. I promise you. The Bellas will return to the ICCA’s and finish what we started last year.”

Rightfully so she called them out! Everyones jaws dropped and laughed a bit at the Treblemakers. Holy crap, she embarrassed them!

“Personally, I wouldn’t take that level of disrespect” someone called out.

“Alright let’s calm down now! First up..” Tommy began introducing the auditioners. And, uh, most of them sounded like garbage. I knew that was what most of the groups were thinking too. Hopefully, we can pick out the few girls and get them to join us.

—

after auditions

Chloe, Aubrey, and I began talking about who we should choose. After figuring out who we wanted in our group we were dismissed back to our rehearsal area. There was a lot of arguing between groups on who they wanted. Aubrey immediately took charge and planned out who we were getting.

While all of this chaos ensued, I could practically feel Bumpers eyes burning into my back. It was as if he couldn’t help but stare at us.

“Bumper? Are you even listening?” Donald said trying to regain his attention.

Even though seeing him out of the corner of my eye made me ponder, hearing Donald say that confirmed those thoughts. He was starring at me! But why? Why has he decided to be fixated on the group he hates the most? More specifically me. It was making me overthink all of our encounters completely.

‘Maybe it was nothing and he was drifting off into space’ I kept thinking to myself.

Finally, we got our girls and took them back to the gymnasium to reveal they got into THE Barden Bellas! I was so excited to meet and bond with these ladies since it was a whole new group.

Nothing but partying and singing all through the night. A chorus/theatre kids’ paradise.

—

inductions

Once back in the gymnasium had got all these gorgeous girls into our group, Aubrey had to make them say the oath.

“Promise to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman. Neither sickness, nor midterms, nor my lady times will prevent me from her-monizing with my sisters. And I solemnly promise never to have sexual relations with a Treblemaker or may my vocal chords be ripped out by wolves.” She recited

The new girls looked frightened by that last line but hey, at least she got the point across? As soon as we inducted the newfound Bella ladies we booked it to the party!

—

outside/party

Holy crap, there was more people than I remember. Everyone was either drinking, singing, or screaming. There was practically no in between. It was almost kind of annoying. But that didn’t get in the way of me having a good time.

I was talking to Becca and ‘Fat Amy’ about getting into the Bellas and what happens at these kinds of things. Whilst chatting I hear Chloe call me over.

“Y/n! Wanna come with me to grab drinks? This ginger needs her jiggle-juice!” Chloe giggles

“Sure! I’ll be right over” I shoot her a smile

Walking down the narrow steps I catch a glimpse of Bumper and Donald, drinks in hand, talking about god knows what. Unlike me, Fat Amy goes over to talk to them but thats not a me problem so I decided to keep walking and catch up with Chloe.

“So, can you actually believe we got girls to join the Bellas! This is so exciting oh my god!” Chloe squeals. Her energy goes up by 10 when shes drunk.

“Yea! We actually did it.” I say as I continue sipping on my drink

Chloee grabs my shoulder, cleary not sober but I’m sure she means it “I. Love. You. You are literally my best friend Y/n” Making kissy faces at me.

I hug her and tell her im going back up to sit. Probably not the best idea on my part considering he was up there. Yet I hand Chloe off to Stacie and Aubrey who take her dancing.

‘Geez, It was chilly out here.’ I thought to myself. I completely forgot to grab a jacket before leaving.

“Oh great..” I said under my breath seeing Bumper walking towards my direction.

“This seat taken?” He said with a smug face

Obviously it wasn’t so I couldn’t just say no. He would see I was clearly lying to get him to leave. I mean I did want him to leave but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Feelings?! Why would I care about his feelings, I hate him! Ugh he makes me crazy.

“Youuu.. good?” he asked

“Oh! Uh.. yea. You can sit here, I guess” I told him nervously

He totally knew what he was doing! He was doing it on purpose, no doubt about it! Right..?

“Sooo, I saw you guys got a bunch of girls to join your little tea par-“

“What do you want, Bumper.” I said cutting him off.

Did he really come over to piss me off? What a jerk! I knew I should’ve just shunned him when I had the chance. God I am an idiot.

“Im sorry. I don’t really know how to talk to you. Y’know.. being a Bella and all.”

Talk to me? Because I’m a Bella? I thought he despised Bellas. Is the universe breaking? I can’t tell if he was being genuine right now.

“Oh really?” I said slyly “Because I’m a Bella?”

“Well yea. I mean we hate you guys!” he cleared his throat “But you.. you’re just different to talk to.”

I should’ve shut this whole thing down. What if Aubrey saw me! I hadn’t even thought of that. He is ruining my life!

I stood up “Wow it sure is cold! I better go” I told him, laughing nervously trying to walk down the steps. Almost falling because of how steep they were, he catches me. Trying to hold my balance.

I gasp, accidentally grabbing him to pull myself back up.

They only thing I could think of during this moment was ‘WHAT THE HELL.’

Bumper helps me back up and sits me down. Neither of us say a word. At this point my mind has gone blank, just grateful I didnt break my tailbone falling on the concrete steps.

“Are you alright? Here” He gives me his Treblemaker varsity jacket.

“Oh, nono! Its alright!” I try to tell him so I don’t get caught with it on.

“No, I insist. You’re shivering” He reassured me.

Was this really happening?! It felt straight out of those cheesy rom-coms Chloe adored. Maybe he was just trying to get into my pants. Which was NOT happening. Well… NO! What has gotten into me!

“Thanks..” I say as our knees touch.

We were back in that stupid eyelock! I guess I never looked hard enough, but his eyes were this dark brown with sparks of a lighter brown. I could feel us getting closer and my cheeks getting brighter but immediately shut it down. Only because I could see Aubrey in the corner of my eye coming this way.

“I have a feeling that we should.. kiss. Now, is that a… good feeling or..?” He said clearly tipsy.

There was no way he would say that sober. Aubrey was heading this way quickly, I had to shoot him down fast.

“Y’know, sometimes I think I can do crystal meth and then I think.. hmm better not.”

I had to make my leave now before I got caught.

“I gotta go. You know how Aubrey is. Thank you, again, for the catching.. and the jacket..” I say awkwardly, getting up

He shoots me a smirk “Of course”

Drink in hand, I go the opposite direction of where Aubrey was. Trying to get back to the center was harder than I thought, especially actively hiding from your friend.

Finally I get down there without being caught by Aubrey, or any of the Bellas for that matter. Such a fun night.

—

day after

Time to get to work and start getting a plan together to win nationals. Except Aubrey already had a whole whiteboard dedicated to what we were going to do to win the finals. Sheesh, she was putting a lot of pressure on these newbies.

“As you can see, Kori is not here. Last night, she was Treble-boned. She’s been dis-invited from the Bellas.” Aubrey said firmly.

“Woah that oath was serious?” Becca raised.

“Dixie-Chick serious.” shooting back at Becca.

‘What a good way to scare our new girls’ I said softly under my breath.

After a few more stern comments about hooking up with a Treble and even kicking out another girl for it, she showed us how to get the ‘aca-win’.

^rehearsal/cardio montage^

Aubrey pulls me off to the side before we left rehearsals. I completely forgotten I still had Bumpers jacket on!

“What does the ‘T’ on your jacket stand for, Y/n?” Aubrey asked in a knowning tone of voice

Crap! She definitely knew. This was it, this was the day I was getting booted from the Bellas. I knew I had to think of an answer just in case she didn’t know.

“Oh! It’s for ‘Taylor’!” I stated trying to play it off. “As in Taylor Swift. Why do you ask?”

“No reason..” She trailed off and ended with a smile.

‘God that was a close one’ I thought to myself. I need to give this jacket back before anything else happens..

—

riff off

Tommy announces it was ‘riff-off time’. My personal favorite of the night! After teaching the new Bellas how these work we were ready.

With my whole situation, I was beyond nervous to even look at any of the Treblemakers. It wasn’t their fault I was squeamish, but I still didnt wanna see them. It didn’t help Bumper winked at me before Tommy gave us our categories.

“Ladies of the 80s!” He shouted and the groups took it from there.

^riff-off^

Of course Tommy screws us over and lets the Trebles win. Why wouldn’t he?!

Now they think they have an advantage over us and begin to gloat.

“OHHHHH you ladies just got owned!” They all yelled.

I shake it off and the rest of the Bellas walk away in disbelief. Me on the other hand was fixated on Bumper who was walking right towards me, trophy in hand.

“You did good” he smirks “But we are just sooo much better than you girls” he jokingly brags.

I wanted to smack the grin off his face so bad. But instead I shot him a sarcastic smile and walked away.

—

regionals

After a few more months pass and we hope all our practicing pays off. The only thing Aubrey cared about was showing up the Treblemakers.

The ‘Sock-apellas’ had finished their set and it was time for us to get on stage. While walking onto stage I could hear the Treblemakers boo-ing us. It also didn’t help that the crowd was not as excited as I had hoped they’d be. No worries, no pressure though. Right? We can’t do any worse than people using socks to sing.

^after our set^

Of course people fell silent during our set for the millionth time. If it wasn’t for Fat Amy, the crowd would’ve been dead asleep. So howcome Aubrey was already yelling at her? Shes was such a perfectionist.

Luckily, we got second and could move on from regionals! Everyone in our group was celebrating except for Aubrey. She was more relieved to even had made it.

—

day of semi-finals

After a month of two of rehearsals, it was finally semi-finals time! I was so excited.

Before leaving, Fat Amy stopped to get gas. It was a long trip ahead of us so it was a good time to stop.

Little did any of us know, the Treblemakers were not far behind after we stopped.

“IVE JUST BEEN SHOT” Fat Amy yelled.

Immediately I ran out to see what had happened. She told us Bumper and Donald had threw their burritos at her for ‘sabotage’.

Great! Theyre trying to ruin our chances even more. I help Fat Amy get back in the bus and we keep on trucking through to get to Semi-Finals.

—

back on the bus

Everyone sings, “So I put my hands up! They’re playin’ my song and the butterflies fly awayy.”

Suddenly the bus broke down. Oh god this could not be good.

“We could call-“

“DON’T say it.” Aubrey says, cutting off Chloe.

“No, that’s actually a good idea! I have Bumpers number. I’ll call him now” I told them.

“Why do you have Bumpers number?” Aubrey shot me a look.

“Uhhh..” I kept thinking ‘Crap. Just ignore her and call Bumper to save us.’

—

in treblemaker bus

“Well this is fun..” Fat Amy said sarcastically.

I was next to Bumper, of course, and we all sat in silence.

Geez, this was awkward. It didn’t help that Bumper was practically invadeding my space. Our legs were pressed against eachother, arms toppled on top of themselves, and if i even turned my head to look at him we would be nose to nose.

This made my heart race. But obviously I couldn’t give into my urges, not with Aubrey continuously looking at me weird.

“9 miles till we’re there” Donald shouted from the driver seat.

I cannot believe we all sat in silence for the whole bus ride.

—

semi-finals

Getting off the bus, we got back into our groups and went inside. Me and Bumper were in the back of the line, together.

“Soo.. what girl power fueled set do you ladies have for us this evening” He asked in a snarky tone.

“Wow!” I exclaimed “You must really not want me to keep talking to you, huh” giving him a condescending smile.

He laughed it off. Gosh, he was too cute to hate. I mean yes, I hated him for being a jerk and a Treblemaker but you had to admit he had some sort of sex-appeal.

“Good luck tonight. I mean it” he looks down and tries to hide his bright red face. Jesse calls him over to stage right to prepare to get on stage. Chloe calls me over aswell.

Once on stage, we started singing the same song that gets the crowd yawning. Out of absolutely nowhere though, Becca starts mashing ‘Bulletproof’ into the set.

It took everyone by shock but definitely got the attention of the judges! Thank god Becca took such a risk. Maybe she should’ve asked before hand but nonetheless the audience was loving it.

Almost immediately we went backstage, Aubrey started yelling at Becca for her little stunt. I decided I was not going to be apart of this drama and went to go sit somewhere backstage.

—

spring break

After Semi-Finals, Aubrey basically kicked Becca from the group. Not fair whatsoever but it wasn’t like my opinion even mattered to her. Aubrey wouldn’t listen to any of us after we lost her championship.

With the Bellas being done for, I decided to take this time to do.. uh.

Crap! I completely forgot those girls were my only friends. And the only other person in my contacts was… Bumper.

Well that was enough for me. I took this as a chance to shoot my shot with him since Aubrey wasnt around to control my love life.

Texting Bumper: Hey! I was wondering if you wanted to hang out over break :)

‘Aaaand send! That wasn’t so hard, now was it!’ I told myself.

Almost immediately I got a response.

Text from Bumper: Yea sure. I’d love to

I couldn’t believe this! I was actually going to hang out with Bumper one on one. And I didn’t even have to worry about Aubrey coming to yell at me! Maybe the Bellas taking a break wasn’t so bad.

—

FINALLY BRO

I see Bumper in the distance walking over to me. I’m still in shock he wanted to go on this date with me, considering he’s still doing Treble stuff.

“Hey!” He smiles “I see you still have my jacket” he teased.

I completely forgot this was his jacket! I started taking it off to give back to him and he stopped me.

“Nono! It looks good on you. You can keep it, I don’t mind” looking at me in awe.

“Anyway! Are you ready to go on possibly the best date of your life?” He gloated.

“So confident!” I tease him.

We walk hand in hand into the park and set up our picnic. This was kinda romantic actually! I’ve known Bumper for about 2, almost 3 years now and I never saw a good side to him. There’s always been some rivalry between us due to the groups own rivalry.

Even during last years run with the Bellas, I was attracted to him. But the hatred definitely took over. Hes never been the nicest but I feel as if it was all an act to show dominance. Aubrey and Alice did the same so I can’t exactly call him out for it. Jeez there’s so much history.

“Here we go!” He said as he finished setting up the picnic.

We talked about nonsense, teased eachother a bit, talked about how we found our way into acapella. Y’Know, normal date stuff.

“I don’t know why we never talked to eachother before this year! You’re so funny” I told him, with a giant smile on my face. I could feel my cheeks burning up.

“I know why.” “Hm?” “The whole rivalry bullcrap! It’s so dumb, I don’t know why both groups keep giving into it. I know i dont help but it’s always been some unspoken argument” Bumper said with some anger in his voice.

“I know, it’s not fun. Especially when Aubrey gets on my back when I talk to any other group.” I told him slightly getting upset aswell.

There was a pause. A good minute of neither of us saying a word. We were too sour to say anything. We knew we agreed but didn’t want to talk about it.

“Well..” He sighed “I’m glad we’re here.. together… now” grabbing my hand.

I looked down to hide my smile, eventually facing back up to see him smiling back at me.

I was head over heels for him at this point. Even though I was upset we lost championship, I was so happy I could finally spend time with Bumper.

Before we decided to pack everything up and part ways, he asked me if I wanted to watch the sunset with him. I turned bright pink just at that question. Obviously say yes, he put his arm over my shoulder bringing me in close.

All I could think was ‘This was it! This was the moment I had been waiting for! He was going to do it!’

While watching the sun go down, I could see Bumper looking at me from the corner of my eye.

Turning to look at him I asked “Why aren’t you watching the sunset?”

He replied “I’d rather take in something even more beautiful” shooting me a smile.

My heart practically fluttered as I immediately leaned into him. I can’t believe this is happening! I was kissing a Treblemaker! This went against almost everything I was taught by Alice and Aubrey but in that moment, I couldn’t care less. I was in love with Bumper.

We both pull back and take a short breath. You could tell he was also in awe of what just happened. Nonetheless I went back in for another kiss. Except this kiss turned into a tiny make out session.

“Wait.. hold on” he paused with heavy breathing “Would you rather go somewhere that isn’t a public park?”

Still panting “Yea that’s probably a good idea” I giggled.

He cleaned up everything and drove me back to my dorm. Shortly after we arrived, he walked me back to my room. Of course I invited him in, I mean why wouldn’t I?! All I wanted was to make sure we finished what we started out in that park.

IM NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT SO IM GONNA END THIS SCENE HERE LOLLLL

I woke up the next morning, completely forgetting what had happened last night.

‘Oh my god’ I accidentally murmured.

He was still in my bed! I was stuck in this state of shock. I did the right thing and got dressed in a big t-shirt and a pair of short-shorts, looking back at him sound asleep in my cheap bed.

After a short period, he finally woke up. I was reading a coffee table magazine while I waited for him. The way he looked at me gave me butterflies.

He yawned “Mmm… Good morning beautiful” looking up at me, smiling.

‘God his morning voice is attractive’ I thought to myself.

“Oh hello!” sending him a smile back. I put down my magazine and got into a more comfortable position.

He then latched onto me, still tired. God, he was so cute.

“I don’t wanna leave” he murmured into my chest.

“Well, we could sleep in?” I suggested while playing with his hair.

I scooted down to make it easier for him to cuddle me. We laid in my bed for a good couple of hours. I knew eventually I had to let him leave.

He felt me moving to get up and slowly awakened.

“I better start getting ready to head out. I have to go do boring acapella rehearsal stuff.” he told me.

“God you’re so lucky. I would do anything to be with the Bellas again.” I sighed, helping him retrieve his stuff.

He walked out my dorm room but before leaving he turned back, almost nervously.

“I was because I was thinking that maybe, perhaps” he takes a breath. “this is harder than I thought it was gonna be” he sighed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I wanna date you. That's what I want. Like, a real couple. Where we, like, go out in public and hold hands and ride bikes together. Or we go to an orchid and pick apples. Or we, like, do one of those Build-A-Bear workshops together, and build bears. And you'd name one Bumper, and I'll name one Y/n. It’ll be cute.”

Oh. My. God. I couldn’t even say anything. I was too stunned. Not in bad way! I’ve just never been asked anything so.. romantic. He has swept me off my feet completely.

“What do you say?” He asked me in a softer tone.

The only words I could get out were “Yes. Yes please, oh my god.”

I saw his cheeks turn a light red before acknowledging that we were finally together.

“I guess I’ll see you soon, then” he teased.

I pulled him in for one last kiss before sending him back to the Treblemakers ‘HQ’.

—

coming back + fighting

It was a day before spring break would officially end. I was getting ready to finish up the rest of my studies when suddenly I got a call Chloe.

“Y/N! The aca-gods have blessed up! We get to compete in the finals!” She told me ecstatically.

My jaw dropped and I joined her squealing immediately. We were back baby!

Soon enough I got to hang out with my girls and talk about gameplan. Realizing quickly that Becca wasnt here.

“I didn’t invite Becca. She doesn’t make us any better” Aubrey said in a smug voice.

Chloe and Becca were incredibly close so it was no wonder Chloe got upset at Aubrey so quickly.

They were yelling back and forth and caused a huge scene that got everyone in a very uncomfortable mood.

Fat Amy came to break the tension and told them to stop and shut up.

I accidentally shouted “Finally! Someone said it!” and Aubrey almost went to come fight me. The only reason she didn’t was because the stomach bug came back.

She stopped in her tracks and threw up just like she did at last years finals.

Perfect! We come back and almost immediately started fighting with eachother. I decided to get up and walk out.

To my surprise, I walked right into Becca. I thought maybe she would help calm down the argument, so I walked back to my seat to watch it all play out.

As soon as she walked in it went dead silent. Almost scary how quiet it got.

Becca stood there fiddling with her fingers “I came back to apologize messing up our chances and leaving. I would be grateful if you could have me back?”

Aubrey just looked at her in silence. Was she really going to let go of the only person who knows how we can win? Was she that much a power hungry freak?

Without anybody saying a word Becca picked up a chair and dragged it to the exit. After a few seconds, Aubrey yelled for Becca to stop.

“Thank you. That would’ve been so embarrassing.” She laughed nervously.

After Becca and Aubrey talked it out, Becca said none of really knew anything about eachother.

“Let’s go around the room. Everyone say something about yourself that no one knows.” She told us.

Everybody started spilling their secrets, and it was then my turn. I didn’t have any secrets, except for the fact I was Treble-Boned. But I wasn’t going to admit that, I could be shunned.

“Well..?” Chloe said trying to get my attention.

I took a deep breath. “I… I started dating Bumper.” I couldn’t help but look down in shame. I didn’t want to tell them but I felt as if they deserved to know.

Nobody said anything, which made this whole thing even scarier for me. I was waiting for Aubrey to scold me but she never did.

“Oh.. well..! I’m glad you’re happy!” Chloe said giving me a soft smiling. She was my best friend so she could definitely tell I was embarrassed admitting that.

Aubrey looked disappointed but then again, she always does. Why should I even care about her opinion? It wasn’t like she was going to be around after this year.

After a short moment of silence, Aubrey gave the pitch pipe to Becca.

“How are we doing this?” Aubrey said almost desperate for her to take the lead.

“Follow me” Becca said then leading us to the abandoned pool.

^pool mashup^

—

call from bumper

It was the day of finals and I was so excited to see the Treblemakers set and not want to punch them.

While getting ready, Bumper called me. Maybe he was calling to tell me good luck. How sweet of him.

“Hey! What’s up Bumper?”

“Hey..” He said in a low tone.

“What’s wrong?”

At this point, I was kinda worried. Why did he sound so disappointed? What was going on.

“So.. I got a call from THE John Mayor, asking to be backup vocals on his new album. Which means I won’t be at finals tonight” Bumper told me slowly.

“Oh.. That’s! Uhm.. That’s great, love. I’m sooo.. happy for you!” I tried to show excitement for him but I just couldn’t.

The one time I wanted him to see our set, he couldn’t be there. I was glad he was making it big time but it still hurt.

“Yea! I’m sorry though. I’m sure you’ll do great tonight. I’ve won that stuff a million times so I’m rooting for the Bellas” He said in a more uplifting tone.

“Thanks. I gotta go get ready to leave. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He could tell I was disappointed. It was obvious. “Alright! Uh.. Love you! Good luck.”

I could practically hear him smiling. He meant it, but I just wish he would’ve told me in person. It doesn’t matter anyway.

I continued getting ready and tried to brush off the news. We going to win whether Bumper saw it or not.

—

finals

Once we got down this whole mashup thing Becca taught us, we knew we were ready to finally win the finals.

She should’ve taken charge a long time ago! Im glad Aubrey loosened the reins though. It was a lot less stressful with her not being in charge.

backstage + onstage

The Treblemakers were about to go onstage and I could only think about Bumper. He was probably living it up in LA not even thinking about me.

Crap, he might leave me for some hot super model! Who knows what he could be doing right now. Thinking about it only made me sad.

“Good luck Benji! Same to you Jesse!” I told the boys. I decided since things were changing, I would also end the whole rivalry crap.

While I was watching the boys perform, Chloe hugged me from behind.

“We are going to do awsome! C’mon we’re about to do hands in the middle!” She was beyond excited for this.

“I know some you are pretty thin, but you all have fat hearts. And thats what matters” Fat Amy said before we went on stage.

It was finally time. ‘My god, it’s packed’ is the only thing I could think.

While getting into position, I scanned the crowd. ‘Wait.. Is that..?’ My heart dropped.

I couldn’t believe it. Bumper?! No way. He actually came to watch me perform! But wasn’t he supposed to leave for LA tonight?!

My heart was racing. He postponed his flight to come see us win. He cared about me that much that he would risk losing his one shot at fame to see me happy. I could feel my face start burning up. I loved him so much.

^singing blah blah blah^

Holy crap! A standing ovation! We had this win, no doubt. As soon as our set had ended and the crowd sat back down, I knew exactly where I was going.

Running off stage, I practically jumped into Bumpers arms. Hugging him tightly, I started tearing up.

We had just won the championship and I have an amazing boyfriend?! I couldn’t believe my life.

“Congrats, sweetheart!” He slyly smirked at me, knowing he surprised me.

I couldn’t get myself to let go of him. I was too happy to realize I still needed to ask him why the hell he was even here!

I pull back, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Wait! What..! How..? Why are you here?!”

My confused look made him laugh. “I knew how upset you were when I told you the news. I couldn’t bring myself to just leave without saying goodbye in person.”

“God, you’re such a dork, I love you” I told him, pulling him in for a kiss.

He was perfect. I wasn’t even upset he had to leave for LA for a month or two. I knew he wouldn’t cheat on me for anybody while being in a big city.

He was mine. He loved me, nobody could change that.

—

end

Six months later, and we’re back in the audition room. Wanting to flaunt our trophy on the Treblemakers, we placed it on our table. Everybody in that room knew not to underestimate us.

“Listen up aca-ballers” Tommy said, starting the auditions “As a tribute to our most recent ICCA national champions, their team leaders will pick the audition song. Bellas?”

I take the lead, “Let’s go with…”

fin.

#pitch perfect #bumper #fanfic #basically my dr #someone plz make more pitch perfect content #bumper ff #treblemakers #the bellas #adam devine

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221bshrlocked · 4 years ago

Text

Deepest of Desires

Y’all I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself but here we go. I’ve already talked about what some of Pedro’s Characters’ kinks would be but I need to compile them in one place...don’t ask me why. All suggestions for any characters are welcomed, I will happily add to the filth on this list.

Warnings: NSFW under cut

Words: 6K+

The Mandalorian - Breeding Kink. Period.

You somehow don’t notice it at first. He’s always careful not to make a mess of you because he thinks you deserve to be worshiped and not taken like a common whore. But then it gradually escalates and you’re not sure what caused this new change but you don’t mind it. Little do you know, Din noticed the little bump in your arm one night when he was kissing every inch of your skin. And something switches inside him and he becomes more needy and desperate whenever he fucks you. The first time he comes in you, you think it’s because he may have been distracted so you don’t think too much about it. The second time, you blame it on the kid cooing from the other room just as Din comes. It’s the third time that gives you an inclination as to what Din has been doing because not only does he cum in you, but he continues to fuck you and moves his hands down to feel your combined juices soaking your skin and the sheets. You feel overwhelmed by how much it turns him on but say nothing, choosing to bring it up another time. When it finally rolls around, and you’re in the middle of the most passionate, sweaty, crazed sex ever, you pull him down and mouth at his jaw, begging him to cum in you. Din freezes for a moment and you hope you haven’t said the wrong thing. Before you think twice of it, he’s hooking one leg up against his shoulder and railing into you, whispering his need to fill you up with his cum over and over again until you’re leaking with it. You could barely manage to respond, moaning when he tells you how often he thinks about breeding you, how much he wishes he could fuck a baby in you, and how hard he gets when he pictures you nursing his kid while taking care of the little womp rat. And you all but lose it when he cums in you and continues to fuck you, not caring about the filthy squelching sounds emitting from where you’re joined as he ensures you reach your pleasure. As soon as he tells you how he wishes he could fuck your tits when they’re full of milk and suck on them until you’re oversensitive and you’re soaking him, you’re coming on his cock and are reduced to a mess as he pushes his cum deep into your aching cunt to ensure that not a single drop is wasted. And it’s not until later that he suggests you take the implant out so he could see your belly growing with his child.

Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels - Bondage, preferably with his lasso or whip.

Jack loves to play in the bedroom but he never brings it up with you, afraid that his tastes might be a little too much for someone as sweet and innocent as you. You’ve only known each other for a couple of months but he’s been smitten when you walked in and showed him who’s boss during one of the training sessions. And ever since then, he’s wanted nothing more than to tie you up to his bed and have his way with you all night long. But he’s reluctant because even if this dating thing is official, he’s still the senior agent and he should be taking care of you everywhere, including the bed. So mark him surprised when you literally crawl to him on your knees one day with his lasso hanging loosely around your neck and tell him to take you on the floor. Jack loses whatever self control he has left and instantly take hold of the lasso, pulling you towards the couch until you’re kneeling in between his spread thighs. He tightens it just a little as he nods to his belt, almost coming as soon as he feels your lips around his cock and your nails digging into his thighs. You beg him to take what he wants and he trusts that you’ll tell him to stop should you feel uncomfortable. And that’s how his little games with you start. You’re either following him around with the rope around your neck like a fucking collar or you’re bending over or getting on all fours as he expertly whips your backside without breaking skin. It makes him hard knowing how much you trust him and he finally has the courage to ask you if it was possible to tie you to his bed. You’re all giggles and smiles before you run up to his room and strip for him, barely letting a moment pass after he ties you before you’re begging him to fuck you dumb. He takes you in as many positions as possible all night long and you take everything he gives you like a little sweet girl. Whether your hands are tied or your legs are tied and spread out open for him, not a single complaint leaves your lips. And he keeps fucking you long after the two of you are sensitive because he can’t believe how lucky he got with you and how willing you are for him to take over.

Javier Peña - Degradation in the forms of Dirty Talk, Choking, and Spanking.

There is a lot of pent up frustration and aggression that Javi keeps bottled up throughout the day. And you realize this job is really getting to him when he stops visiting his friends after work. When you ask him why he doesn’t go to any of them anymore, his answer is surprising. It’s not because he doesn’t want to have sex anymore, no. It’s because he can’t get the same satisfaction out of a simple fuck. And when you press him further, he tells you that he would never want to mistreat one of them how he wants to because they’ve seen enough and they don’t deserve seeing this ugly side of him and they really don’t deserve getting called all sorts of names that fly through his lips in the moments of passion. So you strike a bargain with him. It’s much more difficult to convince him than you think it would be considering how much you know he enjoys this and you leave it on the table until one day, he knocks on your door and apologizes because he can’t take it anymore. There is an awkwardness to what the two of you do in the beginning and he does nothing of what you know he yearns to do. But slowly, his touches get rougher, his words get harsher, and before you know it, he’s no longer the private, somehow shy agent that you’ve worked with for a few years now. No. He’s a man who twists his hands into your hair and pulls you up to him when he needs to bite your neck. He slaps your ass until you’re a crying mess and then he calls you his ‘sweet fucking cockslut’ because you’re taking him so well. You occasionally find his hand around your throat as he rails into you against the wall or in the shower or even on the floor when he’s desperate, and you can tell that he enjoys this more than he’s letting on because the louder you whine for him, the harder his thrusts become and the tighter his grip around your neck is. He loves sees the bruises after and he especially enjoys it when you don’t bother to hide the handprints beneath a scarf. No, you wear it proudly so everyone knows not to fuck with you. And it takes you a while to notice that it’s the fastest way he could get you coming, something that he realizes much before you, hence the constant need to keep his fingers tight around your your lovely skin. But as rough as Javi gets, he also knows how to take care of you after. You smile when you hear gruff voice whispering how perfect you were for him and how he can’t believe you’re letting him do this and how lucky he is to have someone like you giving him this much pleasure and allowing him to use you as if you were nothing more than a harlot. He leaves you sore and bruised most of the time, and his words echo in your mind until you fall asleep and dream of him fucking you over and over again...

My cockslut...Little fucking whore...Letting me fuck you like a bitch in heat...This is my filthy cunt...You belong to me querida...Look how pathetic you are...You gone cockdumb now hermosa? I own you...My fuckdoll...My filthy girl...I’m gonna fill all your holes...Such a good girl for letting me fuck this ass...You’re mine my little whore...No one gets to fuck this except me...You’re nothing but a quick fuck that gets me off...So filthy...Worthless...Wet pussy...Scream my name...Or better yet, shut the fuck up so we don’t wake the neighbors...Fucking hell this cunt is so wet...knew it...Knew you were a whore.

Pero Tovar - Spitting Kink or anything with fluids really.

He’s still unsure of how he managed to have you lay in his arms night after night. He swears this is a dream because you’re an angel and he’s a monster. But you go to him night after night, begging him to have his way with you. Tovar loses his mind when you moan his name so innocently and he can’t bring himself to deny you anything when you’re asking him so sweetly and spread out for him. He does, however, grow quiet when he watches you one day as you get on your knees and suck on his cock until he cums down your throat. But that’s not what surprised him, no. It’s that you’re drooling and spitting and making a mess of yourself. And Tovar likes how you look when your chest is messy with your spit and his seed. This interest only gets worse when he fucks you so hard you squirt around him, and he wants to do that again. He wants to bring you this much pleasure again. So he fucks you hard and deep until you’re soaking the two of you and then he’s coming hard. And before he does anything, you’re leaning down and licking his cock, humming when you taste yourself on him. And that seems to be it for him because he grabs your chin and forces you to open your mouth, and before you can say anything, he’s spitting twice in on your tongue and shoving his fingers deep down your throat. He’s proud of your shocked expression and swears into the night when you get on all fours and start sucking him off again, this time knowing that he has his spit and yours on his cock. And that’s how it is for the two of you from now on. Him spitting down your throat to make sure your mouth is wet enough for his cock, or sometimes spitting on his hands and pushing them past your lips so he could keep you quiet. Occasionally, you’ll ask him to hand you a cup of water but instead, he drinks it and raises an eyebrow for you to open your mouth. You do so without hesitation every time and it almost always ends with the two of you fucking like animals on the floor or against the wall. And one hundred percent of the time, the two of you have to go wash because there is spit and cum and sweat and your juices drenching the two of you.

Oberyn Martell - Touch and anything that involves fruits and drinks.

It’s intimidating in the beginning. Actually, the act itself is not intimidating. He is intimidating. Prince Oberyn is anything but shy and it takes you a while to realize that you shouldn’t be shameful around him. As a matter of fact, you notice that he will reward you if you treat him as a lover and not as your Prince. He teases you the first few times, telling you that there was no way you were the same person he’s heard so many poems about. You grow bolder with him and beg him to lay down as you walk across the room and take hold of the basket of fruits. Oberyn raises an eyebrow at your actions but says nothing, spreading himself out and whispering a quick ‘careful’ when he sees you bring a knife out from between your thighs. He watches as you expertly cut the large orange, and hisses when you begin to squeeze it on his nipples, down his chest, and finally on his cock. The nectar is cold but his eyes never leave you as you lean down and lick him dry, his hands going instantly into your hair when you gag on his cock. He cums down your throat not too long after that and pulls you towards his lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning when he tastes himself and the orange juice. And it becomes a habit after that. Sometimes he’s drenching you with sour liquids and massaging them across your muscles and other times, you’re licking them off of his warrior body. It comes to a point where he no longer enjoys fucking you unless there’s some sticky juices slipping between the two of you. He doesn’t care what it is. All he cares for is touching every inch of your skin with whatever viscous material you chose this time and it’s his happy day when you bring in honey and drip it all over yourself and him. It’s the filthiest it’s ever gotten between the two of you and you notice how he can’t keep his hands to himself anymore. He’s torn between fucking you into the next kingdom and kissing and touching your sweet soft skin. But he’s an intelligent man and he finds a way to do all of that simultaneously, bringing you closer to your pleasure much faster than before. Who knew honey and fruits would make the Prince of Dorne this unhinged.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales - Mile High Club. Enough said.

It’s something the two of you have briefly discussed but never actually had a chance to act upon. But then Pope approaches the two of you for a job that doesn’t sound too exciting even though it pays well. As soon as he mentions how they need Frankie to fly them to the drop point though, you’re both nodding furiously and telling him that you’re in, smiling to each other when he tells you he’ll send you the details before leaving. You’re not sure how it will work but you agree that you’d figure it out once you’re in the plane. It’s not until you’re in the air that you realize how quiet you have to be, with the guys sitting outside and talking through the plan. You’re thankful that Frankie manages to convince them that he needs you to co-pilot the aircraft with him since it’s been a while. Once you’re up in the air and it’s safe to put the plane on ‘auto-pilot’ you’re moving across the small space and kissing down Frankie’s neck. He’s still looking ahead to ensure that nothing surprising happens but it’s getting more difficult to pay attention when all he wants to do is commit every little nip and kiss and lick to memory. You’re shoving your hands down his pants immediately, knowing that one of the guys could come in any moment and you smile when Frankie moans and swears beneath his breath. You don’t tease him, kneeling down between his thighs and taking him in your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He almost cums right then and there but tries his hardest to last a little longer, if only to enjoy this and feel the adrenaline kick in a little more. As soon as he looks down and watches spit corner at your lips, he’s groaning and moaning your name and you nip at the underside of his cock to shush him, telling him that you really didn’t want to give the other guys a show. He obeys your warning and tries to keep himself in check, torn between removing his hands from the controller to push you down on his cock further, and begging you to strip down and sit on his lap as he continues to pilot the plane. The former seems like a better option and he does tangle his fingers in your hair before pushing you down and savoring the sounds of your throat gagging on his cock. When he sees you touching yourself through your pants, he cums down your throat, so far down that you don’t even taste him when he finally pulls you off of him. You’re both panting and the windows have gotten a little fogged up and it smells like musk and sweat in here but you don’t find it in yourself to care as you stand up and wait for him to right himself before opening the door. You’re met with a couple of whistles and you can’t help but laugh at how flustered Frankie is when the guys continue to tease him. Oh well, it was worth it.

Comandante Veracruz - Exhibitionism.

It’s no secret that the Comandante loves to have his women screaming his name into the night. But when you’re assigned to him, he makes it his life’s mission to ensure that no man will come near you. He’s heard of how you like to play and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to start a little game with him. Not even a month in his camp and Veracruz has you writhing in his bed. He fucks you every chance he gets, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because he’s gotten bored with the other women. But he knows very well that it’s only because he’s gotten so fucking obsessed with you that he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t realize that you’ve stopped sleeping around as well and you don’t bother to mention it, mostly because you know it gives him a little edge when you fall into bed with him. He becomes a crazed man when you come to him in the night but then he sees you wrestling with one of his men and he loses his shit. He doesn’t care how pathetic it looks when he comes through the late night camp and drags you across so every one knows who you belong to. Your laughter only makes it worse and he isn’t able to make it into his tent, instead pushing you against one of the trees that’s too close to camp and ordering you to strip down. You do as you’re told and bite back from sobbing when he shoves his cock deep into your cunt. He doesn’t go slow, doesn’t wait for you to get used to him. He just fucks you and keeps fucking you until you’re screaming his name and telling everyone how well he fucks you. He’s whispering filthy things in your ears and you feel his cock grow impossibly harder when you tell him how good it feels and how much you love pleasuring him so everyone could know who makes him cum. It should be the other way around but he doesn’t care, continuing his assault and occasionally spanking your ass when you’re not loud enough for him. The camp grows quiet and he’s sure it’s because everyone can hear the two of you hate-fucking the shit out of each other. When he cums in your cunt, he doesn’t give you any reprieve, instead dragging you again the few steps into his tent and not bothering to tie it closed as he pushes you to your knees and forces you to gag on his cock. Anyone can walk and he’s sure that anyone can hear him calling you his filthy cocklut and you’re giving his ego a boost with all the noises you’re making and how much you’re begging him to take you out to the bonfire and fuck you in front of all those men so they know who owns this pussy. Perhaps one day he would do just that, but for now, he’s content with having you to himself. Well, except your screams that is.

Marcus Moreno - Age Play.

He’s not sure what to do anymore. All he knows is that he hears you telling Missy that she needs to get ready so ‘daddy’ isn’t late for work and he has to run to the bathroom before he embarrasses himself. After that little incident, he rarely leaves the two of you alone when he’s at home, always making sure that he’s around just to hear you say that godforsaken word again. He feels guilty for thinking of you that way and he tries to convince himself that he should stop because you’re his kid’s nanny and you probably already have someone closer to your age and it occurs to him that he is getting turned on because of the age gap and how sweet and innocent you look. He feels bad for avoiding you but he doesn’t know what else to do, afraid that he’d lose his control one day and pounce on you. But you’re cornering him one night and you’re asking if you’d done anything wrong and he says that everything’s fine and he’s just been tired but you don’t believe him. He’s about to tell you when Missy walks in crying and she’s telling you that she had nightmares and she wants to go Marcus but you kneel down and take her in your arms and tell her that daddy needs to rest too. Your eyes widen in horror at what you just said and you look up at Marcus only to find him clenching his jaw tightly and thank god the kid is already half asleep in your arms because as soon as your eyes trail down, you find a large tint in his pants and when you make eye contact again, you know. You know why he’s been avoiding you and you see him blushing because he knows that you know. Marcus thinks he’s screwed up and when you walk into his office after putting Missy to sleep again, he’s embarrassed and tripping over his words. But you’re not giving him a chance to say anything and you’re pushing on his chest until he’s sitting on the couch and you’re unbuckling his belt and it’s all happening so fast. Marcus feels his heart skip a beat when he sees you looking through your eyelashes and begging for him, for daddy, to cum down your throat. From then on, it’s hidden glances and soft touches and Marcus waits for you every night in his room, his eyes beaming with joy when you walk in and coo in his ears. He’s hard in an instant when he hears you call him ‘daddy’ and he switches between making love to you and fucking you into the next world every time he hears you whisper how much you enjoy it when he uses you and how much you love it when he calls you his ‘little girl,’ and how you’ve longed to hear him say that he owns your pussy because he’s your daddy and because no one else gets to fuck his sweet little angel. You tell him everything, of how long you’ve wanted him and how none of the boys at college can come close to the way he makes you feel and how much you wish you could stay in his bed forever because he makes you feel safe and he’s your daddy and he takes care of you. And it’s not long before Marcus realizes that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Missy to have a little brother or sister.

Ezra - Cockwarming.

He’s shy when the two of you shift towards a more physical relationship, mostly because it’s been a while since he’d had anyone he could call his, especially someone as beautiful and kind as yourself. He’s not sure what he’s allowed to do at first but he quickly comes to the realization that you would let him do anything he wanted with you. He’s overwhelmed by your affections and how deep they run because they mirror his own. The idea comes to him one night when the two of you are back in his pod. Neither of you have the energy for anything but he really wants to feel you against him so he begs you to open up for him. You do, thinking he was going to take it slow and pleasure the both of you until you fall asleep in each other’s arms, but then he’s not moving at all, not one muscle, and you quickly realize that he just wants to be inside you and doesn’t care for moving or for doing anything. The thought makes you clench tightly around him and he hisses in your ears, begging you to relax so he doesn’t cum. Not yet. It slowly becomes a habit and more often than not, the two of you are relishing the feeling of being warm and in each other’s arms. His cock twitches inside you and makes your pussy soak him through, squeezing him tightly until he can’t take it anymore and he’s coming deep inside you. Neither of you move as he fills your cunt with his seed and he bucks his hips involuntarily before the two of you relax. You wake up in the middle of the night and he’s still inside you and you sigh when you feel him harden the more you flutter around him. It doesn’t take long for Ezra to pull you closer to him in his sleep and you shut your eyes to enjoy how full you feel before you let your mind relax until you’re softly snoring against him once more.

Maxwell Lord - Praise Kink.

You’re not sure if he’s being serious or not when he mentions it in passing, but you start to notice how he reacts to your words whenever the two of you are alone. He relaxes and leans into you the more you praise him and tell him how good he’s been for you and how lucky you are to have him. It gradually becomes a thing in bed as well except it’s his turn to whisper those sweet filthy words in your ears as he’s pulsating inside you and filling you up over and over again. You were never into this because of how embarrassing it sounds but you find yourself growing hotter and shaking with need the more he tells you that you’re his ‘good little sweetheart’ and that he doesn’t want anyone else but you because you’ve stuck with him through the tough times and now that he literally owns the world, he’ll bring you anything your heart desires. You’re telling him that he’s the only thing you desire because no one treats you so well or cares for you this much or thinks of you so often and Maxwell’s heart shatters because he’s never thought he could hear those words from anyone and he loses himself and takes you as many times during the night as he can because you’ve fallen into his lap and he can’t imagine a life without you and he grows harder in your cunt the more you tell him how good he makes you feel and how perfect he fits inside you and how full you are from his hard and fat cock and it brings him over the edge. So every time he bends you over his desk or pulls you to his lap, you’re both exchanging sweet words to each other because he’s never felt like he could bring the world to anyone but he can with you and you never thought you would every feel this satisfied by someone and you are.

Dave York - Con/Non-Con Play, and the knife/gun comes into play here. (this is dubious so please don’t read on if this makes you uncomfy)

You had some inclination as to what you were getting yourself into when you started working with Dave. He was your senior in the field and never once did you think of breaking his rules. But you do one day and his calm resolve shakes you to your core because his tone maybe patient but his eyes are swimming with anger and frustration. You listen to his orders and nod before going your separate ways. Something is off, however, when you go back to your hotel room and find it darker than you left it. You have about three seconds to react, but you’re three seconds too late and your training is about to kick in when the familiar musky cologne hits your nostrils. You know who it is immediately but his hold tightens around your throat and he’s biting into your neck to let you know who’s in control. You can feel him smile against your heated skin and you’re not sure what he wants but then his hand travels down and roughly grabs at your cunt through your jeans. You’re already a wet mess but Dave is full of surprises, and your eyes widen in horror when you feel a knife to your neck. He breaks for a single moment, asking you if this is what you want, and your brief nod makes him chuckle because he didn’t think he’d be able to get this far but you’re letting him take over. He pushes the knife harder against you and you’re whining and asking him to not hurt you. You took a wild guess at what he was silently asking from you and you’re right on the mark, no pun intended, when his grip tightens around you and he’s shoving you against the wall and ripping through your clothes. You’re begging him not to hurt you and it eggs him on. You don’t have time to think of a proper reaction as you feel the knife dig into your shoulder blades, bordering pain and pleasure. He’s telling you that he owns your body, your breaths, your noises, your arousal, and there’s nothing you could do about it. Because he can kill you with the simplest flick of his wrist. His cock twitches in his pants when you start crying and begging him to not take you but he’s already shoving his dick in your impossibly wet cunt and he can’t believe he found someone who’s tastes run as dark as his. You’re sobbing at how good it feels and how shameless he is with his touches and you’re losing yourself to the pleasure. But right before you fall over the edge, you hear the sound of a gun clicking back and your eyes instantly widen at the sudden shift in the air. You turn around just in time to see Dave hold the gun to your throat while the knife is between his teeth. He’s looking dangerously at you and you realize he must have really had it with you today because he’s pulling out all the stops with you. One glance and you know the safety is off and at the realization of how far he’s willing to take this, you’re coming hard on his cock, soaking him and the your clothes and the ground. He continues to fuck you through it, not caring about the mess the two of you are making. When you lean down and start begging him to not cum in you because it’s not safe, his pace picks up and he shoves the gun in your mouth. One look at how wrecked and sweaty he is and you’re clenching tightly around him. He growls his release when he sees mascara running down your cheeks and he shoves the gun deeper in your throat until you’re gagging on it. He stops and pulls out just to watch his cum rolling down your thighs and he can’t hold back from pushing the handle of his knife in your cunt so you wouldn’t lose any more of his cum. You’re panting and shaking against him and he brings you to your bed and strips you down until you’re naked beneath him. He takes his clothes off as well and pushes himself against your back, telling you to get some rest because he as nowhere near done with you yet, making sure his tone conveys that you may have little choice in what he has in mind for you.

Marcus Pike - Somnophilia.

His hours are hellish, he knows that, but that doesn’t stop Marcus from wanting to sink into your sweet, wet cunt as soon as he gets home. He’s happy that you text him and tell him that you’d wait up for him but when he walks into the bedroom and sees the television playing while you’re fast asleep, he can’t bring himself to wake you up. So he shuts off the television and walks into the bathroom, taking himself in his hand and pretending it was your nimble fingers bringing him pleasure. And before he knows it, he’s coming hard on and makes a mess of himself. Not thinking much of it, he throws his shirt in the laundry and cleans up before slipping between the sheets and bringing you closer to him. It takes him a few moments to allow his heart to rest because you’re so beautiful and warm against him and he feels his cock twitch at the thought of you bringing him pleasure even in your sleep but he brushes the thought aside just as quickly as it comes because he would never do that to you. It’s a surprise when you’re doing laundry the next day and see proof of what he’d done and you feel a little guilty but also, you’re not sure why he didn’t wake you up. So you make sure to wait up for him and confront him, guilt eating you alive when he tells you that he didn’t want to disrupt your sleep because it wasn’t that important. But then you’re asking him why he doesn’t just have you while you’re asleep and you think you’ve gone too far because of the look on his face. But Marcus gulps and asks if you’d really be okay with that or not because the thought of him fucking you in your sleep is making him hard and ready. You feel your panties dampen just from thinking about it and you’re pushing him down on the bed and fucking him and telling him he could do anything he wanted to do with you and you wouldn’t mind. He cums with your name on his lips and you fall asleep immediately. He doesn’t think he’ll want to do it this soon but when he comes home the next day and you’re asleep, he thinks about it but decides not to. But then he sees what you wore to bed and he swears you did this on purpose. Before he thinks about it, he’s pushing your thighs open and licking at your cunt like a starved man, groping and cupping your breasts through the flimsy material of the lingerie and you’re moaning in your sleep but you’re not awake yet. He takes his pants off immediately and feels you clench around him as soon as he sheathes himself inside you. He thinks he’s died and went to heaven because he’s barely touched you and you’ve cum around his cock and he’s fucking you slow and deep, and you’re moaning in your sleep. He’s sweating from how much he’s holding back and he cant’ take his eyes off of your heavy chest and how willing you are. You’re at his mercy and the thought almost brings him over the edge but he holds back and continues to thrust into you until he feels like he’s going to lose his soul. He’s coming in your cunt but he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left in him and he goes to sleep without cleaning you up because he’s probably going to wake up in the middle of the night and fuck you again and he wants to push in you easily when he does and just use his cum as lube. And he does, two more times. And still refuses to clean you up because he really wants to watch you wake up in the morning and feel your mixed cum between your thighs and know that he used you for his own pleasure...

Max Phillips - Biting and Bloodplay (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy)

It’s a little jarring when you find out the truth about Max. You think it’s a dream at first because there’s no way vampires exist, it’s just not the world that you live in. You’re a bit afraid in the beginning because you know how he gets sometimes but he’s been nothing but patient with you thus far. When he invites you for dinner at his place one night, you can’t help but joke about being his meal and it’s awkward for a few moments but he laughs along and promises you he doesn’t bite...yet. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know, you’re staying over his place almost every night. Curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him what it feels like to sink his teeth into someone’s skin and he’s reluctant to respond because he doesn’t want to give himself away. He doesn’t want to tell you how he dreams of biting your neck and your thighs and anywhere he could reach almost every night. But he doesn’t have to because you're moving closer to him and you’re whispering reassurances in his ears and you’re telling him that you trust him and it’s all he needs to hear before the thread snaps. He’s on you like dew on leaves and you’re baring your neck for him and he nips at your jaw before moving to your neck and your shoulder, leaving love bites anywhere he could reach because he can finally mark you as his. He can feel blood rushing through your arteries and he looks at you with need, a silent question swimming in his eyes and you sink your nails into his shoulder when you nod and he immediately digs his sharp fangs into your skin. You’re so glad you started this conversation because it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced. There’s pain shooting through your neck from how deep his fangs sank into your skin but there’s so much more pleasure coursing through your veins and there’s something erotic about hearing him sucking and slurping and gulping down your blood. He sits up for a second and you’re met with the scariest yet prettiest sight in the world and Max knows he should stop but he can’t and he turns your head to the other side and breaks the skin at the top of your breasts before he starts sucking again and it’s filthy but erotic all at once. He laps harshly at the puncture wounds before he wraps his lips around your nipples and bites a little harder than he intended. You have no time to react as he descends down your body and pushes your thighs open before he’s biting into the meat of your thighs and you’re shaking with need. As soon as he shoves two fingers into your cunt, you’re drenching his arms and coming violently around him, and Max forces himself to pull off of you just to watch you come undone at his touches. He leans down and licks across your cunt, his cock twitching in his pants when the taste of your arousal and your blood mix on his tongue and he realizes, then and there, that you’re it for him. He looks down at your blissed-out expression and he’s proud of how wrecked your look, even more so because he sees his marks everywhere on your skin, from your neck and shoulder to your breasts and your thighs. And fuck if this isn’t the prettiest sight in the whole wide world. And you’re all his.

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jjoutermaybanks · 4 years ago

Text

Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 6k

warnings: time to get ~smutty~

(also rubber up kids no glove no love don’t do it like Y/N and JJ)

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART THREE

The end of the party finally came, after what felt like an eternity of waiting and avoiding JJ. Sarah had to go home with her dad and Rose to celebrate whatever award he’d received, but she swore to meet up with you all tomorrow. Pope claimed the same thing; his dad had wanted him to work the event, not attend, so he felt obligated to spend the night at his own house. Kiara didn’t mind doing whatever, and John B. looked to me to see what I wanted.

“Want to come back to the Chateau with us?” he asked softly, and Kiara nodded in support.

“We can watch a movie and raid John. B’s snack stash.” Her brown eyes were warm and hopeful, and you knew what they were trying to do. By now everyone had heard--or seen, more likely--what JJ had done. He’d flaunted the brunette all night, at one point blatantly making out with her in the middle of the party. Kie had tried to make you feel better by calling him an asshole and swearing she’d kick his ass, but this didn’t really help. You didn’t hate JJ; quite the opposite, in fact. Calling him an asshole didn’t soften the pain, because it only made you remember all the times he wasn’t an asshole. Like when he carried you home after you split your foot open on a rock, or the time when you were miserable after a fight with your mom and he stayed up half the night at the Chateau cracking jokes just to make you smile.

“That sounds amazing,” you conceded, taking a deep breath before adding, “but I can’t. My mom is gonna want to hear all about my night, and more importantly gossip about hers, so...I’ll see you guys later.” Your smile was forced, but after John B. gave you a hug it became more natural. No matter how rocky your relationship was with JJ right now, you knew you had true friends in the other Pogues.

As you made your way through the dwindling crowd, a familiar blonde appeared in front of you. At first JJ didn’t see you, looking around for someone else. And then his eyes landed on you, taking in your broken expression and sagging shoulders. You noticed his undone bow tie, hanging limply by his neck despite the expert job you’d done on it earlier. His hair was messy, and his shirt was almost entirely untucked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he looked like this, and your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

His jaw set, eyes steeling as they met yours. “Going to find Rafe?” His tone was clipped, a slight smirk twisting his pink lips that dug into your heart like a knife.

You attempted to appear unaffected by him, raising your chin with a blank look. “No, I’m not, actually. Not that you’d believe me either way.” Your fists clenched by your sides as you stood your ground. JJ raised his eyebrows, disguising his reaction with a smirk.

For a second, his lips parted as if to say something. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a slender hand snaking around his waist, belonging to the brunette. She was even prettier up close, in a fake tan, perfect teeth kind of way. She gave you a calculating look, causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

JJ cleared his throat, throwing an arm loosely around her shoulder as they breezed right by you. Just as he passed, you caught JJ’s eye; the look he gave you was chilling, his eyes icy and distant. Goosebumps raised on your skin at the sheer frigidity of his demeanor, but you had to push this aside. It didn’t matter, you shouldn’t care so much.

You repeated this mantra all the way home, until you closed the front door behind you and collapsed against the wall. You could hear your mother bustling in the kitchen, surely on cloud nine after tonight. Working up all the energy you had to talk to her, you trudged into the kitchen.

“Y/N! Finally! Wasn’t that just splendid?” Your mother had taken off her gaudy dress and was now in a robe, but still had her hair and makeup done. She looked like a clown, and you knew if JJ were here you two would be laughing about it.

“It was...fine,” you said simply. Honestly, you didn’t even pay attention to the party itself, your thoughts too preoccupied by something else. This didn’t please your mother, however, who then launched into a lecture about how ungrateful you were and that you should show more appreciation for her hard work.

“Look, Mom,” you interrupted after letting her rant and rave for five minutes. “I’m exhausted. Can we fight about this later?” It was no point trying to end the argument; you two were always in a constant combative state. If it wasn’t about the party, it would be about your reckless friends, or your laziness, or the fact that you were never home.

Your mother scoffed. “Fine, avoid confrontation, take the easy way out like you always do. One day you’ll have to take responsibility, you know!” she called after you, but you’d stopped paying attention and slammed the door to your room before she even finished.

The next day you reconvened with the Pogues as planned. Almost all of the Pogues, that is. JJ didn’t show up to your usual meeting place at the dock, and no one had heard from him.

“I wonder where he could be,” Sarah fretted. It wasn’t like JJ to just ghost on you.

Pope rubbed his arm uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes. You could sense he had something to say, and sighed. “Spit it out, Pope.”

He nodded. “It’s just...I think he’s probably with that girl from the party. If I had to take a guess, that is. I could be totally wrong--” He rambled on, trying to soften the blow of an idea you’d already thought of. You knew Pope was probably right. JJ had most likely spent the night with the girl, and he wasn’t the type of guy to just skip out on someone the next morning. You were almost irritated at how chivalrous he was.

“It’s fine, you guys,” you stated, hating how your stupid feelings were affecting the group. “Let’s just move on, alright? What do we have planned for today?”

And it actually was fine, for the most part. Pope needed help fixing his dad’s boat, and so the day was spent working out mechanics and laying around in the sun. Sarah relayed all of the Kook gossip to you and Kie, and it was pretty entertaining hearing about the problems of Outer Banks princesses. Even when the day was winding to a close with no word from JJ, you already felt slightly better. The pain always subsided, it just took a little time. And with the added distance JJ had apparently decided to put between you two, the process would be even easier.

However, after a third day without seeing JJ, you started to worry. Even the other Pogues had started to wonder what had happened to him. It wasn’t like JJ to skip out on all of you, and you knew he valued friendship over everything else. No girl could have changed him this much, no matter how pretty she was.

“At what point do we file a missing person’s report?” you questioned on the fourth afternoon, sitting on the dock beside Pope as he worked on the finishing touches of his dad’s boat. It was just the two of you, so you felt comfortable enough to voice your fears.

Adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, Pope cast you a doubtful glance. “I don’t think the cops around here would care too much if we said he was missing,” Pope admitted. “I mean, it’s JJ. He’s gotten in so much trouble before they might even be happy he’s AWOL.”

Hearing the harsh words stung your heart, but you knew they were true. Sensing your grimace, Pope sighed, setting down his tools to sit beside you. “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“Not mean,” you murmured. “Just true.”

Pope was quiet for a while, and you both watched your hazy reflections in the water before you. Your feet swished in the murky depths as thoughts swam around your mind. After a few minutes, he spoke up again. “What exactly went down between you and JJ? Other than the kiss thing with Rafe.” Pope’s question was innocent, and you knew you owed him an explanation. The only problem was you didn’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

Inhaling deeply, you shrugged. “With JJ it’s always been...different. We’re best friends, of course, but sometimes it felt like more. The way he talked to me, the way he looked at me...I knew he wanted something else, but I was too scared to give it to him.”

“Why?” Pope asked you. “This is just me guessing, but I feel like you maybe liked him too.”

You smiled. “It was that obvious, huh?” Your thoughts drifted to JJ, and for the first time in a while you let your true emotions speak. You remembered his bright blue eyes, how you felt when they connected with your gaze. You remembered his charming smile, how it always managed to banish the darkness. Frowning slightly, you responded, “I don’t know why I was scared...maybe because I’ve never had anything serious with anyone before? Maybe I was too worried about ruining our friendship. I had a lot of excuses, but none of them were good enough to ever get rid of the feelings fully.”

Pope nodded along as you spoke, understanding as ever. “That’s how I feel about Kiara,” he told you, surprising you with his honesty. “I’m crazy about her, but I’d hate to ruin what we have now.”

You nudged his shoulder. “You can’t live in fear, Pope. You have to make a move or you’ll never know.” You also knew Kiara would be thrilled if he actually confessed his feelings.

He smiled at you, eyes full of amusement. “Exactly, and that’s what you should do too.” Rolling your eyes at his reverse logic, you chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re right, obviously. I just need to get over myself.” You knew this was the answer all along, but talking with Pope made it that much clearer. The next time you saw JJ, you would confront him, and whatever happened would be worth it because at least you tried.

But you didn’t know when you’d see him next. He’d been gone for so long, it was anybody’s guess when he’d be back. You didn’t know how long you could wait before all of this newfound bravery was gone.

Getting to your feet quickly, you grinned at Pope. “You know what? That’s just what I’m going to do. I’m going to find JJ.”

Standing up as well, Pope furrowed his brows. “Uh, how? No one’s seen him for days.”

Waving your car keys in the air, you said, “I’ll drive around the whole damn island before I give up. He has to be somewhere around here, right?” You let this brief optimism fuel you as you climbed into your car, firing up the engine and rolling down the window to hear Pope.

He leaned his forearms on the door, peering into the car with a skeptical glance. “Look, Y/N, I’m all for you shooting your shot and following your heart. But...if it leads you nowhere, try not to be too devastated, okay?”

You nodded, hoping your smile was convincing enough to soothe Pope’s worries. You heard what he was saying and took it to heart; for all you knew JJ would laugh in your face when you told him how you felt. But you had to try, or you’d live the rest of your life regretting it.

For the next few hours, you drove around the whole island, searching all the usual spots for JJ. He wasn’t anywhere near the docks, he wasn’t hanging out in The Wreck. You drove through The Cut to no avail, even getting out to ask a few locals if they’d seen him. Refusing to give up, you tried Figure 8 next, thinking that maybe he’d been spending his days terrorizing Kooks. But he wasn’t there either, and once you’d searched everywhere imaginable you slowed to a stop on the side of the road, smacking the wheel out of frustration.

Where the hell are you, JJ? Biting your lip and peering out at the empty street, you wracked your brain for any place you’d overlooked. After a minute of thinking, only one place came to mind. It was so obvious you’d figured he would never go there. You also didn’t think he’d want to set foot anywhere near it.

His house.

You’d only been there once, but with all the Pogues there with you. JJ had needed to get something from inside, and the tension in the air when John B. pulled the van up to the run-down shack was suffocating. Your heart had never beat harder than when you were waiting for JJ to reemerge, hopefully unscathed. After a painful twenty minutes, he’d finally come out, but with a few bruises and scratches to show for it.

When he’d slid into the seat beside you, he said nothing about what had happened inside. And you hadn’t asked, either, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted. So you simply leaned your head against his shoulder, praying that he knew you were there for him. His only reaction to this had been to kiss the top of your head, and that was all you needed to know he understood.

Now, the thought of going back there terrified you. It was truly the last possible option, and you knew you had to check it before giving up on your mission. But the thought of going to that place where so much hurt had occurred...you almost prayed not to find JJ, because that meant he was safe from his father.

Hands shaking as you drove, you tried to compose your breathing. It was a short drive, too short for the amount of mental preparation needed. You parked the car and turned it off, staring out at the seemingly quiet exterior of the house. Appearances were deceiving, though; you knew the horrors that took place behind those walls.

Sucking in a breath, you forced the door open and began to walk towards the house. No point in dawdling, you had a job to do. But as you came closer and closer, you began to hear something. It was a sound you’d seldom heard before, but one that haunted your sleep for weeks on end.

It was the sound of JJ screaming.

Automatically you froze, your entire body immobilized by his voice. Along with his voice was another, a man’s, yelling just as loud. There was a harsh crack, followed by a deep thump that made you flinch. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, and terror overtook your body.

All of a sudden the front door flung open. The shouts were clearer now, and you glimpsed JJ wrestling out of someone’s grip. His blonde hair was stained with something, his ripped tank top smeared as well. Your heart sank when you realized it was fresh red blood.

JJ’s grunts echoed in your ears as he fought, and the sound of a fist cracking against someone’s face made your eyes shut tight. But they quickly reopened when his father hollered angrily, and you saw JJ rushing towards you.

“Y/N?!” he cried, completely stupefied that you were here. Struggling to form words, you felt your eyes well with tears. But JJ didn’t stop to console you, instead grabbed your arm and ripped you back. It was then you saw his father barreling out the door as well, pure malice in his black eyes.

Slamming into your car, you fumbled with the door and held your breath as JJ collapsed into the passenger seat. “Fucking drive!” he snapped, and you didn’t hesitate before flooring the gas and sending the car jerking into motion. JJ’s father stumbled to the ground, and you watched his figure recede in the rearview mirror.

Gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles were white, you swallowed hard before risking a glance at JJ. If you were stunned before, this was a whole new level of shock. Not only was his shirt and hair stained with blood, but it was dripping from a deep gash in his forehead and cut in his lip. Purple bruises dotted his face, and one of his eyes was a gruesome black color.

You took a shaky breath, swerving accidentally as your shell shock distracted you. JJ immediately lunged to grab the wheel, and the car lurched violently as you hit the brakes.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, eyes hooded with anger as he glared at you. “Can you drive?”

You couldn’t speak, your heart hammering too loudly to think straight. JJ saw the pure fear in your eyes, and instantly softened, his tense shoulders slackening as he pushed his matted hair off his face.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring out at the road in front of you. “What the fuck were you doing at my house?” His tone was a mixture of anger and genuine concern, and it took everything in you not to cry.

“I-I was looking for you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “You disappeared, and I...I missed you.”

JJ’s face flashed with anguish for a brief second, before he heaved a sigh. “You know the shit that happens at my house,” he said quietly. “What if you’d...what if you got hurt?”

Sniffling, you twisted in the seat to face him. “I don’t care, I had to see you--”

“I care, dammit! I fucking care if you get hurt or not,” he retorted angrily. You shrank back at the hostility in his tone, and when he saw your reaction JJ pressed a hand to his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to yell, it’s just...” His glazed over, as if with tears. “If anything had happened to you back there, if my dad had even laid a hand on you--”

Reaching out to touch his shoulder, you shook your head quickly. “But he didn’t, I’m fine.” When he didn’t look at you, you leaned closer and tried to meet his gaze. Finally he conceded, and watery blue eyes met yours. “Let me take you somewhere,” you begged. “You need to be cleaned up, see if you should go to the hospital.”

JJ tensed. “I’m not going to any damn hospital, Y/N.”

Worried he’d get angry again, you rubbed his arm soothingly and smiled. “Okay, no hospital. Just please let me take care of you?” JJ leaned back against the seat, struggling to breathe normally. After a second, he finally nodded, and you started up the car.

Thankfully your mother had chosen this week to go out of town. It had been nice having the house to yourself, and now especially you were grateful to be alone when you walked through the front door. Holding JJ’s hand, you led him upstairs into the bathroom and had him lean against the counter.

Finding what little first-aid materials you had, you joined him in the bathroom and shut the door. Rifling through the box you found only a couple band-aids and some disinfectant. Biting your lip, you grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink. JJ watched your actions closely, arms folded in a guarded position to protect himself. Your heart ached at the thought of him in pain, and you had to force tears out of your eyes a few times.

“Look at me,” you instructed softly, trying to compose yourself when his blue eyes turned to you. You focused on his cuts, gently touching the wet washcloth to the wounds. JJ winced when you made contact, and you placed a hand on his thigh to calm him down. Working slowly and methodically, you cleared off most of the blood from his face, still horrified by the purple bruises that remained on the skin.

A particularly deep cut on his eyebrow refused to stop bleeding, and you moved to press the washcloth to the wound. But JJ resisted, ducking away from you.

“You don’t need to clean me up like a child, Y/N,” he growled, making you press your lips together in a thin line.

“I’m not,” you answered plainly. “Please, just hold still.” He complied, and you pressed the cloth to his eyebrow. JJ hissed at the pain, and you held back a grimace. The thought of you hurting him devastated you, but you also knew he needed to be cleaned up.

JJ was refusing to meet your eyes at this point, anger practically rolling off of him. It was hard to breathe in such a small space, and you found yourself getting lightheaded after a while. When JJ’s eyebrow stopped bleeding, you decided it was time to move on.

“Okay, take your shirt off.” You needed to inspect the bruises there to make sure he didn’t have a broken rib or internal bleed.

But JJ wasn’t having it, and he jumped off the counter. “No way, we’re done here. I’ve got shit to do.” He went to leave, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait, please!” He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Please, JJ. Let me help you. I just...I want to know what happened, and what I can do to make it better.”

Finally he faced you again. A thousand emotions sparked behind his eyes, and he clenched his teeth to fight off emotion. “Why? Why do you care?”

Parting your lips, you said, “Because you’re my best friend.”

He winced, and panic flared in your chest. “Best friends,” he echoed, sounding hollow and uncaring.

Panic flared in your chest, and you grabbed his hands. “More than best friends, JJ. I--” You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know if you could handle rejection right now. JJ’s expression changed when he heard you start speaking, but when you stuttered his brow lowered over his eyes.

“You kissed Rafe, Y/N,” he reminded you, causing you to sigh.

“I didn’t,” you forced, hoping he actually understood. “I know what it looked like, but I promise you, I did not want to kiss him.”

A few seconds passed, his expression still furious. “You mean that bastard kissed you without permission?” At your slight nod, he huffed. “I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands--”

“No, no, JJ!” you quickly interrupted, stepping closer so you could press your hands to his chest. “Don’t kill anyone, not for me.”

Gazing down at you, he lifted a hand to rest on the side of your neck, igniting sparks where his fingers fell. “For you, I’d do anything,” he whispered, and your heart flipped.

But then you frowned. “What about the girl from the party? The Kook?” It hurt just to mention her, and the guilt that flashed across JJ’s face only hurt you more.

“She was...nothing. She meant nothing,” he explained, willing you to understand with his eyes. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.” His hand on your neck moved up to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. “The whole time I was with her I was...thinking of someone else.”

Your heart stopped beating. “S-someone else?” There was no oxygen left in the room at this point.

JJ brought another hand over so he was cradling your face, looking deeper into your eyes than he ever had before.

“You.”

Once the word left his mouth that was it. You grabbed his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the fervor you’d had stored up in you for weeks.

After imagining this very moment for so long, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. JJ’s lips fit yours like a glove, and the taste was something you would never get over. He was warm and firm in all the right places, and his body reacted to yours like you’d been in sync for your whole life.

You were careful to avoid his injuries, your hands gentle on his chest and your mouth light by his busted lip. Despite how delicate he was in this moment, JJ didn’t let this inhibit his passion as he kissed you with a wild vigor.

His fingers wound through your hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a moan from your throat. The sound must have turned him on, because JJ exhaled deeply. His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently as his hands pulled at your hair again. His back was up against the door, and your hand slithered out to grab the handle.

A smirk played across his mouth as you stumbled into the hallway. “Going somewhere?” he murmured into your ear, breath washing over the shell causing you to shiver.

“Trying to find a bed,” you purred, and his eyes darkened at the words. You pushed him towards your bedroom, closing the door behind you as he fell back onto the bed. You wasted no time in straddling his hips, legs on either side of his thighs as you kissed his lips fervently.

Disconnecting your mouths for a brief second, you pulled your shit over your head, tossing it onto the floor and gazing down at JJ as he took in your bare chest. His hands slowly slid up your torso, igniting fire where his fingers touched, until he reached your breasts and you sucked in a breath. He kneaded your breasts, thumb swiping over your hardening nipples. JJ leaned up to press his lips to your skin, swirling his tongue around your nipple and making more moans of pleasure echo through the room.

“JJ,” you whined as you felt his teeth on your sensitive bud, hands wrapped in his blond locks. As he focused on your chest you expertly slid off your shorts, panties going along with them, and settled with your exposed core on his thigh. He felt your heat there and growled, the sound low and sexy in his throat. You kissed up his neck until you found a sweet spot that had his hips bucking, and as you nibbled at his sensitive skin you began to grind against his thigh.

“Holy shit--” he stuttered, hand skimming down your naked back to guide your hips. You giggled into his collarbone, swiping your tongue across his glistening skin.

Tired of the layers still shielding his body from you, you sat back and started lifting his shirt. Once the fabric was tossed onto the floor, you glanced down and gasped at what you saw.

If the bruises on his face were bad, the ones on his body were a hundred times worse. They were huge and the deepest purple color you’d ever seen, littering his ribcage and abdomen. You could practically feel them aching just by looking at them, and suddenly you were afraid to touch him.

JJ sensed the horror you felt, and shifted so he was leaning back on his elbows. “Y/N,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m fine, please don’t cry.” But you couldn’t help the tears flowing in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine how someone--how his own father--could do this. How could one person inflict so much damage, and on someone so pure and good? Your entire body ached for JJ, and for the little boy who never knew love from his own dad.

You felt his hand on your cheek, and you melted into his touch. Sniffling, your lower lip trembled as you slowly came forward, hovering above his torso. And then, with the lightest of touches, you kissed his bruises. Your lips were feather-light against his damaged skin, careful not to hurt him as you moved across his ribs. JJ’s breathing was shaky as your fingers ghosted across the bruises, trying to heal him with your loving touch.

Once you’d finished kissing each one, you brought your lips to his. This kiss was different than the one before; it was soft, and full of so much emotion you could barely contain it. JJ held you close to him despite the bruises, and you craved his touch just the same.

Foreheads tilting together, your eyes met in the darkness. “Y/N,” he began, threading through your hair and stroking down your neck. Anticipation for his next words nearly killed you as you held his gaze.

“I love you.”

A tearful smile breaking out across your face, you chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you too, JJ.”

That was all it took to reignite the heated passion from before. All gentleness from your moment with his bruises was gone, replaced by an intense desire for one another. JJ flipped you over so he was on top of you, and you bit your lip as you watched him slide off his shorts. His cock sprang free from the restrictions of his boxers, hard and stiff as it slid against your thigh.

Reaching a hand out, you gripped his shaft and earned a hiss from JJ. When your hand started moving up and down, his breathing all but stopped, eyes shutting as he let the pleasure take over. Your hand worked slowly but expertly, fingers working his swollen tip and collecting the precum there. Your thumb circled his slit, and this caused JJ to jerk in your hand.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned, giving you a sloppy kiss. “You better stop doing that or this is gonna be over real quick.” Smiling devilishly, you met his lips in a feverish kiss and let go off his cock. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and surely leaving marks.

JJ’s hand drifted down your abdomen, nearing the place you were desperately aching for him. When his index finger dragged up your core, you suppressed a moan and rolled your eyes back, feeling bliss explode in your stomach. He traced your entrance carefully, teasing your folds in a way that made your thighs shake.

Sensing you were holding back, JJ kissed your neck and instructed, “Moan for me, baby.” His seductive tone was too much for you, and a string of moans left your lips. His finger finally dipped into you, curling against your walls and spreading heat through your body. JJ’s movements were intoxicating, and he knew just where to touch you and how to do it. His thumb pressed against your clit, making you cry out, and then he circled the bundle of nerves. The stimulation was overwhelming, and your hands fisted the sheets to try to hold you to reality.

JJ added another finger inside of you, pumping faster now. In combination with his thumb on your clit, you knew you were done for when the tight ball in your abdomen exploded into a million sparks. Your orgasm fizzled through your nerves, and your cries became louder as they pierced the quiet air.

“God, JJ,” you breathed, gripping his shoulder for support. He grinned above you, shifting his hips so they aligned with yours. You felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding through the slick folds and running over your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asked you quietly, hand affectionately running through your hair before resting on your cheek. You leaned into him, nodding with the smallest of smiles on your face.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one swift motion, JJ pushed inside of you. The initial stretch nearly took your breath away, and it took a minute to adjust to his size. He filled you up entirely, hitting every sensitive spot you had. The stretch was deliciously searing, and as he began to move inside of you the feeling only intensified.

“You’re so tight,” JJ moaned, his thrusts slow and controlled. His hair fell over his eyes, lips parted in concentration. He looked strikingly beautiful in this moment, and you couldn’t believe he was actually yours.

You rested your hands above your head, and felt JJ wrap his fingers between yours. It was an intimate gesture that made your heart swoon, and you molded your lips against his with every emotion flooding between you.

His thrusts eventually picked up, and he hit even deeper inside of you. “JJ,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He grunted, using one hand to massage your breast. “Say my name again, Y/N,” he ordered, and you were glad to comply.

“JJ,” you moaned, arching your back while his hips rolled into you. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Fuck,” JJ swore, falling on top of you a little. He only had one arm to support his weight, and he used all of his energy to quicken his pace. His cock slammed deeper and deeper until you felt his balls slap against your skin, and when he hit a particularly good spot you saw stars dance across your vision.

“I’m close,” you panted, bringing a hand down to rub your clit. JJ let out a series of curses at this, clearly frenzied by your self-pleasuring. Your finger played with your clit as he pushed into you, lips brushing yours in a lazy kiss as the euphoria began to take over.

Your second orgasm was building to the breaking point, and with one last stroke you were done for. A second round of fireworks went off inside of you, and your walls instinctively clenched around JJ’s cock. He let out a loud groan at this, clearly close to finishing as well. He thrust a few more times before finally pulling out, a spurt of white liquid flying out onto your stomach.

Senses blurred by pleasure, you reached out to grab his cock and work him down from his high. JJ’s moans echoed in your ears, his voice like a beautiful symphony you’d replay over and over. When you could finally breathe steadily again, you placed your hands above your head, just soaking in the euphoric after-effects of the orgasm.

JJ reached out onto the floor and grabbed his shirt, using it to clean up your skin. He smiled down at you, blue eyes sparkling with residual lust and something else. Love.

Collapsing beside you, JJ pulled the blankets up to cover your naked bodies, cocooning you in warmth and privacy. In this moment, you were the only two people on earth. When he looked at you, it was like nothing else in the universe existed. You shifted forward until your foreheads were pressed together, breathing in each other’s scent.

JJ’s fingers lazily brushed across your cheek, and you pursed your lips to kiss the tip of his nose. He smiled at this, throwing a hand over your waist to haul your body into his. Now you were pressed together in every way, chest to chest and heart to heart.

He studied your eyes, looking straight into your soul. “I love you,” he said again, almost like a reminder. As if you could ever forget he said those amazing words.

“I love you,” you answered, grinning softly. JJ chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He said it again, making you laugh. So you said it again, and again and again. You would never stop telling him you loved him, and neither would he.

He was yours and you were his; finally.

#outer banks #obx #pope outer banks #pope obx #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #kiara outer banks #kiara obx #sarah outer banks #sarah obx #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj one shot #jj mayback x reader #jj smut #obx smut #outer banks smut

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gcmblingdice · 3 years ago

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Hopefully my next paycheck will push me having 2000 so i can pay off my aunt so I can get my car this weekend. Gotta make sure too that I can also pay off dad too (but he says to wait til next week?) But then i gotta like buckle down again om finding insurance.

Im also afraid Ill loose my state insurance and wont be able to afrord my meds because i cant afford insurance (unless i go through my work but idk how much extra that will be out of my paycheck.)

Yes I am moving in with my boyfriend and his partner, but I think its only until I am able to be on my own??? Idk. I need to get that clarification but i always forget.

Im also nervous and worried that once I move my dad may decline and idk. Also im not over how my brother keeps joking about me paying dad back cause its his inheritence too.

Like we already did the math and between bills going out and income coming in, he would have 600-700 a month of left over money to use for gas and grocerries etc. He can easily rebuild that 6k+ (8k if we counting the vet) and i mean I understand he wants the money back, but he keeps asking me ans reminding me and i keep telling him Ill.pay him back.

Then he also says to not rush it, but will remind me.of what i already paid him and its like SIR PLEASE? AND I AM SO DONE.

Im full on bulimic again and dont fucking care much anymore about shit and Im slipping. I find myself drinking more and more.

I resubbed to the gym but only went once and feel like shit. Like good job ya dumb bitch 10 dollars wasted a month. (I been trying to do evening walks tbh but i wanna do the gym for real again)

OH AND EVEN THO I CLOSED THE CREDIT CARD MOM HAD FOR DAD I FORGOT I NEEDED TO 0 OUT THE BALANCE LOL I FUCKING HATE IT SO THAT ONTOP OF EVERYTHING.

Man i just do not. Not to mention the walking on eggshells and I am still not over how my dad's side has villainized me ever since the funeral when i told them to fuck off. Also the gays are pedo narrative is one they cling tigthly too because CLEARLY ME HELPING TO LET THIS 13 YR OLD BE HEARD AND ENCOURAGING HER TO LEARN MORE ABOUT HER GENDER AND SHIT IS BIG NONO AND I AM I NOT ALLOWED TO HELP A YOUNG QUEER BECAUSE SHE IS 13 ANE DOESNT KNOW WHAT SHE IS FEELING AND ITS A PHASE.

Man fuck off. The way she was so excited to see someone who was also queer, who gave her space to vent, made me cry.

My aunt knows of her being gay (or qieer) but even she says that the girl might change her mind.

MA'AM. and even if she does end up not being queer ( which i highly doubt since she confessed she was always different in that she liked girls and those who were non gender conforming and always said she felt more seen by gay tiktok and that she wants ti learn more before she can settle on who she is, but she isnt allowed...

BUT APPARENTLY ME JUST SHOWING BASIC DECENCY AMD GIVING HER SPACE TO BE IS BAD AND MAKES ME A P*DO???

and people on either side of my family constantly telling me i look like mom or how well I am doing when ITS CLEAR I HAVenT HAD TIME TO HEALTHILY PROCESS ANYTHING BUT OKAAAAY AND YEEESSSS

Tell me Im selfish because I want a safe space to grieve. Tell me I should be more respectful of my dad cause he is hurt too. Also we love them telling me i am not allowed to speak out on my own abuse at my dads hands because "now you onownyour dad is a good man"

FUCK OUT HERE WITH THAT SHIT. ON GOD.

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kinosternon · 4 years ago

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State of the turtle

Hey!

So it may go without saying, but I haven't been around very much since November/December. There's a few reasons for this, the major practical ones being that I'm doing grad school and also moved and, y'know, the world existing as it is at the moment. But a big part of it was also that I got really burnt out and have been struggling to figure out how to go about fixing that.

Details below (nothing too intense, but some mental health talk comes up). TL;DR, I'm quiet but still around <3

The experience of writing CSCG was fantastic, but it was A Lot. I was staying up late a few nights a week, almost every week, just finishing chapters—on top of work, school, another side project or two, and general life stuff. I can't say I fully regret doing things the way that I did them, because without weekly deadlines it probably would've taken me years to finish, if I managed it at all. It was a whole huge rush, and that left it sloppy in places, but it also added a lot of energy to the process. I think it had a good effect on the story's tone as well, in a way that would've been hard to maintain otherwise. (If anyone here followed me because of my Undertale longfic, that's what happened there. I have not given up on it yet, but I'm not quite ready to get back to it yet, either.)

I just made sure I posted Every Week No Matter What, because I was scared of stopping if I slowed down, and because there didn't seem to be any real consequences to pushing myself that way, and because I figured that stretching yourself to the limit is how you grow.*

But when CSCG ended, I hit upon a few problems all at once. I'd pushed myself to the very edge on writing, right before throwing myself into another huge writing event, NaNoWriMo. I'd been doing it for so long that I didn't really want to skip it, and stopping cold turkey after writing (what ended up being) 6k-10k a week, almost every week, would've probably messed with me too, like an athlete who just suddenly stops training altogether. I had fun, even if most of the words I produced were pretty much unusable.

I'd also pushed...honestly well beyond anything I thought I was ready to accomplish in my writing by actually posting and finishing a longform story. At the outset, I hadn't expected anything but relief and/or pride at the end. That...wasn't what happened. There was definitely relief, and a whole ton of gratitude, and some pride in the abstract, but mostly I just felt exhausted. And annoyed with myself for not feeling happier about it, because the joy about reviews was part of what helped keep me going through writing, and yet something about finishing the story cut off a lot of my positive feelings related to that.

It also hurt a bit because I'd thought of myself (in part) as a person who was unsatisfied with myself because I couldn't finish stories. When it turned out I could, it meant that the uncomfortable feelings that came along about my writing couldn't be blamed on the fact that I'd left something unfinished.

But I think the worst part of finishing the story was how hard those final chapters were—not because of plot considerations (though tying off loose ends was definitely a challenge at times!), but because of how hard the emotional notes were to hit. I spent a year—a really rough year, that I'd known going into it would be rough but that quickly got more worse than I could've imagined at the outset—writing an angsty story about exhaustion, breakdown, and recovery. And then, when I hit the happy ending, I was still far away from any happy ending to the challenges I'd been facing in my own life, and I realized it was hard to write the characters being happy.

I felt terrible about that. I still do, to be honest. These were characters who spoke to my soul, who I fond points of resonance in closer than just about any other form of media that I'd ever experienced. And yet, after literal hundreds of thousands of words explaining their dynamic and finding ways to repair it, I could barely find it in me to write their happy ending. I could barely believe in it long enough to write it, much less imagine what might come after.

I know that plot comes from characters facing challenges, which usually involves a certain amount of distress, but not being able to find the emotion of peace of happiness for them still really distressed me. And I hit the end of the story while still feeling that guilt, and still feeling the pressure to find more within me, to write happy sequels to keep balancing out the trouble I'd put the characters through. And I hadn't even begun to account for the grief that comes up when a story ends, which a post I saw today describes very well.

Basically, I hit some huge walls in the writing process, and blasted through them through sheer force of will. I'd been living that way in general for a year or two even before the pandemic hit, weathering every setback that came my way. The commitments I'd made only slowed down a little when lockdowns started, and some of their consequencess all came together in some nasty combinations a few different times over the ensuing months, which led to me finding out what starts to happen after I push past enough limits, which is: Not Very Good things, mainly of the depression variety.

And so I've spent the last few months (from mid-November on, really) trying to figure out how to deal with said Not-Very-Good-ness. I've persevered through a combination of stubbornness, inertia, and just sheer ignorance of other options, but putting things up on the Internet is one of the hardest things for me to do confidence-wise, so that was one of the first things to go. I'm making progress, but I'm still as intimidated by the idea of putting myself out there as ever.

I've made some changes to my living situation, and gotten therapy and medication, and all of those things have helped a lot. Unfortunately, because of my studies, writing can't be a top priority for me this year, and it probably won't be next year, either. I haven't even had it in me to write many rough drafts lately, which I'm trying to think of a fallow period rather than letting it discourage me too badly. Still, I'd like to find ways to talk with people online more. You're very nice and I'm very happy to get to meet you!

As I figure things out, there will probably be times I'll just vanish for a month or two (or several or more, honestly). But I'm still around; I just withdraw into my shell to rest every once in a while.

* What these past few years have taught me is: yes, pushing yourself can be great for you in small doses! But it's important to do it while valuing your safety, treating yourself and your efforts as kindly as possible, and prioritizing getting plenty of rest afterward. I do okay at parts of that, but I still have (ironically) a lot of work to do on the rest.

#posting this before I get too scared to lol XP #about the writer #cscg #ramblepost #depression mention cw

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napoleon--bonaparte · 4 years ago

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i read @focsle‘s novel Lacrimore. this is my review. it is FULL OF SPOILERS.

rating: infinity/10. i just LOVED it!! it just ah!! it was so good!! i was totally and effortlessly swept up in the whole universe of Lacrimore. i was also completely 1000% invested in every character, including the house's staff (LOVED Fel omfg). i enjoyed every single second that i read this book. it was difficult to put down but because of the way that life is i had to at times and until i could get back to it, it was ALL i thought about. i thought that it was beautifully crafted and well and satisfyingly plotted. it was also extremely emotionally and thematically resonant with me. it just really hit me right where i live!!

i have all sorts of thoughts but they're kind of loosely assorted so bare with me

the house was AMAZING. i mean, W O W! "atmospheric" is the word that really comes to mind the strongest. the writing is not only beautiful but also incredibly effective and fresh. in a work like this, it is so important to get a sense of the house in a physical (well, as close to physical as you can get with this particular house) sense and SJ really just knocked it out of the park. i was blown away. not surprised, just totally delighted. in particular, the ballroom windows and the east wing captured my heart. the sense of history there just totally haunts me

i adored all of the characters. Sivre Sen was a great choice for protag, and such an interesting character in this universe. i found her internal struggles with her faith to be deeply compelling. i really felt for her and cared for her as things progressed. and. fkjda; sorry to keysmash like its 2011 here but. the whole ass climax !! INTENSE. ROOTING FOR HER SO HARD. and the close... when she lit that lantern... and starts calling spirits away.... what a beautiful, powerful culmination of her character arc and the book as a whole. i just. knocked on my ass. found dead, rip me she was so young

Vandorus. i. i love him. ALSO rooting for him so hard. number one, what a GREAT character. like, just conceptually within this universe. fascinating. number two. he stole every scene he was in. i mean, everything was well balanced and super well written. but he was just such a compelling, interesting dude with such a strong personality that it was hard not to be just totally taken with him wherever he went!! god. I JUST WANT HIM TO BE OKAY. when he and the house were getting buddy buddy i was like.... this is very sexy of you Vandorus, however as your mother i am concerned.

his relationships with Sivre and Lalichai were the touchstone of the whole book for me. i loved watching his relationship with Sivre evolve. it was exactly what i would want to happen between the two of them but i'm not used to getting that kind of satisfying turn in a lot of narratives... and when it happened, i was just beside myself. they have such an interesting dynamic. when he let her go... and then when she didn't leave him. i'm crying like a baby over here, its 1am, i'm scaring my dog.

ugh. IK THAT IT ENDS ON KIND OF AN AMBIGUOUS NOTE. WHICH I **LOVED** AND THOUGHT WAS PERFECT. so whether or not he fully survives this whole thing is kind of up in the air. the ambiguity. god, him telling Sivre that he knows he should have just put Lalichai out of his misery... tears. Van isn't a bad guy. i just. head in my hands. when Sivre tells him that the house would just use him, i'm like throwing shit into the air. like listen to her you beautiful salty dingus!!! I JUST WANT WHATS BEST FOR YOU

also. every time Sivre and Van have a scuffle this was me irl:

and Lalichai. smoothes shirt. i run a Lalichai stan blog now. i was NOT expecting at all to like him so much, just figured he'd be there, but he was JUST SO CHARMING and i am a SUCKER FOR THAT TYPE OF BOTH CHARACTER AND REAL LIFE INDIVIDUAL PERSON. and when he died, i wasn't expecting to see him again so like, to have a whole ass other scene with him was just a true delight. i just loved him to bits. here's something i wrote at some point for my notes for this review: "lalichai is SO my type as a character love that bitch GOALS except the evil house part but would totally also make that mistake so like i get it babe."

anyway. here's an assortment of moments that made me have a irl physical reaction:

i GASPED AUDIBLY and in doing so SCARED MYSELF when sivre found minah's bead

i had to stop reading and get up to take a little emotional walk every single time van's mom was brought up (i was literally like wow.. rip my heart out, thanks) and ALSO at that four lines of dialogue between lalichai and minah. i'm just. those lines are fucking haunting me

i cried throughout the entire climax and also at any point where minah showed up.

overall, in a broad sense i loved the whole narrative structure. i loved that it was on a bottle on the island. i thought that was very effective and well done. i also loved the broad thematic tanglings with legacy, death, ambition, struggling against authority, etc. this might sound odd but i'm still processing them, not that they were difficult to understand or not well crafted but i think they're just really hitting me very hard and i need some time to parse how the work is impacting me emotionally beyond my deep investment in the characters and universe. i will certainly be rereading this again.

i don't know a great deal about american spiritualism. but the influences on this work was such a rare treat. i haven't said a lot about the worldbuilding, but it was fascinating and effective. it just... all worked really, really well.

in conclusion: i really enjoyed the book. it has been a long time since a written, non-podcast work of fiction has grabbed me like this. i find it terribly gauche when fans rope creators into fandoms or try to talk about things like fanfiction with them. but i would be remiss if i did not share that, for me personally, it is rare that a work grabs my heart and imagination to the extent that i would want to read or produce any fanwork. it must be very special in a particular way for this to happen. and right now all i want to do is dive DEEP into a healthy lacrimore ao3 tag!!!

where's my vandorus & sivre "buddy cop" style sequel riffs. and at least one 6k fic where they go find his mom (IF SHE STILL ALIVE....) that makes me lose my mind.

#lacrimore #me #SPOILERS

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atruththatyoudeny · 5 years ago

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Monthly Reads | May 2019

Happy 28th! If you want to promote your fic or your artwork head on over to @kingsofeverything and send Lauren a message! She’s doing self recs - fics and art - today. Thank you to all of you amazing authors who brighten my world with your words ♥ Here are all the fics I read and loved this month:

Let Our Hearts Collide || crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) || While You Were Sleeping AU - 90s - mistaken identity - fake/pretend relationship - coma - amnesia - pining - grief - 76k When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son. In the Paynes, Harry finds the big family he's always longed for...and a love he never saw coming.

Can't Help Falling || Anonymous || open ending - 15k The one where Harry's a workaholic, until best mates Liam and Niall drag him away for a holiday to Ibiza.

24K Magic || Justalittlelouislove || famous/not famous - drug use - 32k A fic based on 24k Magic by Bruno Mars, in which Harry's a mess and famous, Louis is a mess and not, Liam and Zayn are probably hiding something, and Niall is a horrible flatmate.

For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry || amomentoflove || vampires - past abuse - slow burn - angst - depression - anxiety - 50k Harry is cold. His bones ache. Every movement draws a whimper from his cracked lips. The stone underneath him is practically like ice. He’s numb, but can clearly feel the sharp pains on his neck every timeHe visits him. Below the icy cold, the achy bones, and the pain on his neck, Harry Styles is pissed. There’s a fire burning in his mind and the anger for the man who keeps him imprisoned is the fuel. He despises him, the man who feeds from him and is a daily reminder that Harry’s suffering won’t end. The man who keeps Harry so weak that he can barely move most days. Harry’s waiting for the day when his owner will go too far and finally kill him. Death must be better than this cold hell he is in. It won’t happen, though. He has a way of keeping Harry’s heart beating. So for now, all Harry can do is wait for death to come. He’s been waiting for years.

Consequences || allwaswell16 || amnesia - exes to lovers - getting back together - injury recovery - angst - 74k Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

The Fire and the Fate || dimpled_halo || A Star Is Born AU - depression - alcohol abuse/alcoholism - addiction - drug abuse - famous/not famous - angst - hurt/comfort - break up - post-break up - getting back together - 56k An A Star is born au with a happy ending. Harry is a troubled musician about to reach the end of his rope when he finds Louis singing in a club one night. He’s instantly mesmerised by the man with blue eyes and breathtaking voice.

And That's The Tea || 2tiedships2 || a/b/o - soulmates - strangers to lovers - friends to lovers - 27k The one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

I Must Confess (I Still Believe) || objectlesson || High School - Catholic School - Girl Direction - coming of age - self-discovery - self-doubt - self-acceptance - angst - pining - slow burn - internalized homophobia - 44k Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl's School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Like A Siren In The Night || whoknows || a/b/o - light dom/sub - 24k “There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet. Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?” For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months. It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

Let Me (Be Your Girl) || dimpled_halo || Girl Direction - cheating - pwp - 6k Louis hires Harry to help her find out things about her husband. What she doesn't expect is to discover some things about herself in the process.

Come together || bottomlinsons || college/university - One Night Stands - miscommunication - angst - pining - 11k Harry and Louis slept together three weeks ago, and haven't talked. Their coming group project is gonna change that.

Tonight's not over (come over and stay) || louistomlinsons || famous/not famous - fluff - 17k Harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

Born Ready For You || taggiecb || Sequel to That's What I'm Here For - children - adoption - family drama - 2k Harry and Louis' life gets turned upside down once again with an unexpected visitor.

Getting high in mine || bottomlinsons || meet-cute - drug use - 4k Getting home from a festival is miserable by any method, but a three-hour train ride is truly the bottom of the barrel. This time, though, with the help of the cute guy sitting on the floor, it might not be so bad.

The Daddiest Place on Earth || lovelarry10 || Social Media - Disney World & Disneyland - strangers to lovers - 23k Louis. Harry. Instagram. A whole lot of confusion and a whole lot of laughs...

I Won't Give Up So Come And Get Me || runaway_train || strangers to lovers - Blind Date - 15k The one where Louis meets Harry and it all just seems too good to be true...

Picking Up The Pieces || Halos_Boat || strangers to friends to lovers - angst - slow burn - emotional hurt/comfort - 72k Harry just signed his second set of divorce papers. He felt like his life was over, like he had nothing left. Then he meets Louis.

Ready, baby? || jaerie || pain kink - rope bondage - earrings - 1k Harry gets an earring. Louis is the one to do it. Or a pain kink drabble.

Impress Me || lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) || Chefs - homelessness - fluff - 5k Harry's a new chef who can't cook to save himself, but when he meets Louis, he learns more than he thought possible

Drunk in Love (last thing I remember) || MrsStylinson || fluff - pining - banter - 22k The one where Louis wakes up, naked, in a stranger's bed and has no idea how he got there. Maybe it's foul play. Maybe it's just the kindness of a handsome stranger amused by his drunken antics.

Take The Bitter With The Sweet || rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife) || Coffe Shops - fluff - pining - 7k Liam recruits Louis to spy on the 'rival cafe', which Louis is less than enthusiastic about but it does lead him Harry, the pretty barista who works there.

Harry Poppins || jacaranda_bloom || strangers to lovers - kid fic - hurt/comfort - past character death - fluff - 32k When Louis’ best friends pass away he finds himself with an instant family. Maddie and Thomas are wonderful children but take an immediate dislike to every nanny that sets foot inside their house. After nanny number six is summarily dismissed Louis is at his wit’s end, that is until an unusual man arrives on their doorstep. Harry Styles is like nothing any of them have ever encountered before, and perhaps, exactly what they’ve been looking for all along.

You Bring Me Home || reminiscingintherain || Saving Mr Banks AU - fluff - 22k The one where Louis wants to turn Harry's book into a film, and Harry's very picky about what happens.

Big, Bright World || || pining - jealousy - slow burn - cheating - miscommunication - 35k It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really liked anyone he'd worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself. Little did he know that over time his 'little crush' would develop into a blazing inferno of Hell-fire proportions. Every day, Louis' feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. Louis felt it every moment they were together. The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at Visionary.

Barren Souls || Snowy38 || Dystopian - mpreg - angst - emotional hurt/comfort - 37k It's 2907 and things are different. Organic men and women are no longer fertile and only genetically modified humans are permitted to procreate. The sexes have equalled, men are able to give birth in these dire times and roles have been created to both sire children ('Stud') and carry them ('Provider'). Public displays of affection are a criminal offence and the procreators cannot get emotionally attached without severe consequences. Harry has hit 19, the legal age to bear children. He's looking forward to producing babies for his host family and he's just had his placement confirmed. All that's left now is to meet the Stud who'll impregnate him. It might tug at his heartstrings thinking about the beautiful babies he'll be carrying who he'll have to let go but he's trained for this. He's spent his whole life preparing. Being a Provider is a special job and Harry's one of the chosen.

In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights || Anonymous || strangers to lovers - fluff - travel - 13k It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left. He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile. It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received. Harry: Hello! Harry: Thank you for swiping right Harry: I have a proposition for you

#28th appreciation #1d fanworks appreciation day #fic rec #my reads #my fic rec #monthly reads #1d fanfiction #larry fics

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tuanyiems · 6 years ago

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Past The Fog

Min Yoongi x Fem Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 6k [Masterlist] Plot: When you arbitrarily join a group project, you are greeted with one of your more intimidating classmates, Min Yoongi. But over the span of the project you come to realize there is more than meets the eye to your scary project partner. Perhaps he deserves a second glance. Prequel to All Clear a/n - @yugyeomsauntmimi I hate you for guessing I was writing this story over a dumb gif I used!!! I was trying to surprise people dammit! Anyways, it’s early but in honor of Yoongi’s bday here it is. Hope y’all like it c:

Min Yoongi scares most people. If you don’t look carefully, you’d think a scowl were permanently on his face. And if he doesn’t scare you, then you probably don’t know who he is. He’s the kid who always sits at the back of lectures, with his head on the desk or lit by the screen of his phone. Strangely enough though, he’s close with two of the most well-known guys in the university—Kim Namjoon, the smartest guy I know, and Jung Hoseok, the friendliest guy I know. That’s how I first came across Yoongi. “Y/N, want to be part of our group for the project?” Hoseok smiled at me cheerfully, gesturing to Namjoon and Yoongi who were sitting across the room. “With you, we’d make the perfect team!” I shrugged my shoulders before getting up to join the other guys. Normally I would’ve just waited for the person sat next to me to give me an awkward look before giving into a silent partnership. When I sat down between the warm Hoseok and the ever constant, Namjoon, I was pleased to have been personally invited this time around. “Thanks for joining us, Y/N, we could use your aesthetics,” Namjoon smiled politely. I shook my head softly, naturally brushing off his compliment. We had worked together in different classes before and it was always a pleasure with the ever savvy Namjoon. “Your art is awesome! I’ve always wanted to get to know you better,” Hoseok added, his classic bright smile shining on me. I chuckled, offering him my own, albeit lesser, smile. “Same here.” And then my eyes landed on Yoongi, his serious eyes boring into mines before flickering back down to his phone.

“This is Yoongi,” Namjoon introduced. “I’ll get us started with a group chat tonight. For now, we can delegate team roles.” “Since we have to make a commercial, it only makes sense that Y/N be our designer, right?” Hoseok added. I shrugged my shoulders, nodding complacently. “Yoongi, you down for the music?” Namjoon asked. Yoongi lifted his head, his lips twitching into a half smirk for a split second. “You mean a jingle? You asshole.” “Awesome!” Namjoon chuckled before pointing his pen at Hoseok. “You’re in charge of presentation then. I’ll do the research.” “Wow, we’re really the perfect team!” Hoseok exclaimed before the class regrouped as one for lecture. The second time I met Yoongi was through a video call. “Hey Y/N, thanks for meeting us at my place,” Namjoon smiled, offering me a can of cider. “It’s alright, your place is neat,” I shrugged. I had come to his flat a few times to work on different projects. His roommate, Jin, was always out working or in class anyways so we were never disturbed, and it honestly was neat—way neater than any guy’s apartment I had ever seen and certainly quieter than my family’s house. “I think Hoseok’s coming up the gates. I’m gonna go grab him, can you pull Yoongi up on video while I go get him?” Namjoon tossed me his phone before pulling on a cardigan and briskly stepped out of his flat. “Sure, no problem Joon, I’m not intimidated at all,” I muttered, staring down at the phone screen with Yoongi’s contact already pulled up. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and hit the video call. “Fucking fuck,” Yoongi’s first words resounded throughout the room as the video call remained black. There was some fumbling on his end before a dim light clicked on and I was faced with Yoongi in a big black hoodie, on the other side of the room to turn the lamp on. “Fucker, you knew I was on last night. I didn’t read your text until now.” “Uh, hey Yoongi,” I smiled politely, waiting for him to sit back down towards the front of the screen. “Namjoon told me to call you. He’s getting Hoseok right now.” “Oh shit…Y/N, hey,” Yoongi’s face slowly settled into a small frown as he tilted his head uncomfortably, rubbing at his neck. “They’ll be back soon,” I chuckled, feeling embarrassed for some reason, as if I were the one getting caught cursing like a sailor. Yoongi returned a small half smile, pulling on the hood of his hoodie further down his head. “Sorry I couldn’t make it,” he let out quietly. I shook my head, resting Namjoon’s phone against a pile of books on his coffee table. “Not at all…You were on last night.” I smiled, seeing his own lips stretch wider just a millimeter more. I had no clue what “on” even meant but it sounded important enough. This was just a silly class project anyways (that was 50% of our grade, but that was just a smaller detail). “Yeah,” he chuckled, breaking into a bigger grin now. I felt myself leaning in, as if that would make his lighting any less dim. “And that fucker knows I wouldn’t check my texts until now.” “Who you calling a fucker?” Namjoon called out as he and Hoseok entered the room. Yoongi broke out into a bright smile, his pink gums on display as his eyes curled into crescents. “You, you asshole.” And if it weren’t for Namjoon grabbing his phone back and Hoseok coming to greet me I think I would have been permanently star struck. Not only did Yoongi just smile, but that might have been the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. (Which is saying a lot as I’ve witnessed a smile from the sunshine, Hoseok, himself.) “So this is the research I’ve done so far,” Namjoon interrupted my thoughts. “I forwarded the file to everyone’s email already.” I chuckled, opening my laptop to pull up the file, though my eyes continued to flicker back to Yoongi who was now in Hoseok’s hands. His face remained blank as he stared into the screen of the phone, his chin resting in his palms. Between a screen, he didn’t seem so scary anymore. “So I think it just makes sense for you and Yoongi to work together more,” Namjoon finished, breaking me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen to see Yoongi nodding half heartedly, a crooked smile on his face. “You two can figure out how you want to do it.” “I can text you later to set up a meeting,” I added. He continued to nod, his crooked smile soon depleting into a tired stare. “Alright Yoongi, you can go back to bed now,” Namjoon smiled. “Wow, he’s beat his record today!” Hoseok cheered, clapping towards the phone. Yoongi answered with the roll of his eyes though he broke out into another gummy smile. “Later,” was all he said before his screen went black. “Beat his record?” I asked as the two guys chuckled amongst themselves. “Yeah, normally Yoongi just shuts the phone off ten minutes in.” “Or he just falls back asleep,” Hoseok laughed. “I’m surprised actually. I didn’t even expect him to answer since he was on last night. I already prepared a summary for him in advance,” Namjoon grinned, showing us a file on his screen. “So, is he always that quiet too?” I wondered aloud. “Only when he’s tired,” Hoseok explained. “Which is pretty much always,” Namjoon joked. “But he laughs around you two. For a while I thought Yoongi wasn’t capable of smiling,” I admitted, causing the boys to laugh. “For a while, huh?” Namjoon lifted a brow. Hoseok smirked, catching on quickly. “Aw, does Y/N have a crush on our Yoongles?” “W-what? No, I was just—” “It’s okay, Y/N, we’re just teasing,” Namjoon interrupted, saving me from what probably would have been a mess of an excuse. “But Yoongi could use a girl like you,” Hoseok chuckled, nudging me playfully with his elbow. “Maybe he’d be less grouchy.” “Yeah, if you’re into Yoongi,” Namjoon added, “we’ll be totally down to set you two up.” “Yeah, you two would match really well. You’re both creative!” I smiled, shaking my head at their teasing. “Let’s see how much I like him after this project is over.” Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged looks before turning back to their laptops. “Yoongi can stay single.” - “It’s…nice. I like the use of color in your piece.” I stared at Jenny as she gestured loosely at my canvas as the other members of my cohort nodded along. “I think your strokes could be more defined.” I took in a deep breath, looking back at my midterm painting, blatantly titled “Fog” and the muted colors across the canvas. “Anything else?” Our professor asked. “Overall, I think it’s a pretty piece.” “Alright, since Y/N was our last peer review we’re done for the day. Keep working on your project for next week.” Jenny sighed, stretching her arms across the table as we all proceeded to put away our supplies. “Man, I’m so glad this week is over!” “I know, I just want to drink the weekend away,” Krystal sighed, plopping herself on Jenny’s table. “Do you guys want to hit the club after this?” Jenny asked, sitting up with renewed energy. “Oh my gosh, yes! Let’s!” Rose squealed, swinging her paint brushes in the air. Johnny turned to me with a smile. “Let’s all go together! Y/N, you too!” And normally I would have insisted they go without me. My cohort and I never truly clicked and I knew they were just inviting me out of politeness. But the truth was, it really had been a long week. Part of it was the fact that I had pulled an all-nighter to get my midterm piece ready for the review and yet the only feedback I got was essentially, that it was “nice”. I could use a glass of whiskey right about now. But honestly, would I go to the club by myself ever? The answer was no. And so despite my better judgement, I smiled at Johnny and nodded along. We arrived to a club I had never been to before. It didn’t appear like anything more than any other brick building in the city, but once we were inside the dark place, lit with neon lights, the music rumbled thick in the air. The base was so strong, I could feel the vibration on my skin with each beat drop. As my cohort left for the dance floor, I shrugged my shoulders and made my way to the bar. Relieved of any other forced interaction with my cohort, I was now free to drink to my heart’s content while listening to good music. I guess it was a good idea to tag along after all. “On your own?” The bartender shouted my way. I smiled handing him my card along with a hefty bill. “I’d like my glass filled at all times tonight.” He laughed, pocketing the bill and sliding my credit card through. “You got it. How do you want it?” “Jack Daniel’s, straight.” With a wink and a fresh cup of whiskey, my bartender left to serve others and I was left by myself again. But it was nice to sip on the dark, bitter taste of whiskey while listening to music, which by the way, was great. Turning around to the dance floor, my eyes landed on Johnny and Jenny getting a little too friendly on the dance floor, but soon my eyes glazed over and fell on the DJ. He was slouched over his turntables, black hoodie over his head. It reminded me of Yoongi. He was always slouching. He also always had his hoodie over him. Such a shame though. It wasn’t like he even had the kind of face that needed hiding. I smiled to myself as Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s teasing replayed in my head. Maybe I did have a slight interest in Yoongi. If only he weren’t so scary. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned back around and continued to enjoy my drink, satisfied when the bartender reached his arm over to refill my glass each time. After a while I found myself giggling. “You’re really good at this,” I mused when he did it again before I could even lift my glass for his attention. He smiled, blowing at the whiskey bottle as if it were a gun barrel. “You could call it a sort of intuition.” “Hey there beautiful,” a voice whispered way too close to my ear. The smile left my face as I turned to my right. Though it took a few blinks before my eyes could focus, I could already tell it was going to be a sleazy guy. That was the downfall of going to a club. I looked over my shoulder before turning back to him. “Where?” I could hear my bartender scoffing from the corner. “You, of course,” he smiled, unfazed by my joke. “You look like you could use some company.” “Do I?” I deadpanned. “You want to come to my place?” he continued, completely undeterred by my answers. I had to give it to him, at least he was tenacious. I chuckled before downing the rest of my glass. “Listen—” “How about I get you a drink then?” he interrupted. “That’s alright, I’ve already got her covered,” my bartender intervened, pouring me another helping of whiskey. I giggled when he sent me a wink. The man beside me sighed before getting up from his seat, “It’s too late in the night for this.” I laughed when he finally slipped away, downing my glass again. “You are really great at your job!” He shrugged, smiling humbly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, why are you alone? I saw you come in with friends.” It was my turn to shrug my shoulders this time. “I wouldn’t really call them my friends.” “I see,” he nodded understandingly. “So you’re by yourself? Do you need me to call you a cab?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I’m a big girl. I can get home by myself just fine. Look!” I jumped off my seat to show him just how fine I really was only to feel the ground get pulled from right under my feet. “Woah there,” a voice grumbled from behind me as firm arms came around my waist, holding me upright. “Y/N?” “That’s not my fault! The floor was just slippery!” I yelled towards the bartender who was laughing wholeheartedly now. “You know her, Yoongi?” my bartender asked, addressing the man behind me. “Yoongi?” I turned around in the man’s arms only to be faced with a blurry but very Yoongi, unamused face. I giggled, relaxing into his arms now. “Hey Yoongi!” “Well it looks like she knows you. Is your shift already over?” Yoongi sighed, helping me back onto my seat. “Yeah, it’s finally over. Why’d you give her so much to drink, Jimin?” “Hey, when a cute girl hands me her card and asks for bottomless whiskey, I can only oblige. I’m a gentleman, Yoongi.” “Gentleman my ass,” Yoongi scoffed, grabbing my glass of whiskey and taking a gulp. “You just wanted to take her home for yourself.” Jimin smirked, pouring more whiskey into my glass for Yoongi. “Well, if it were to happen like that, I wouldn’t have been opposed. But clearly, she’s off limits.” I frowned. “Hey! That’s my whiskey!” Yoongi chuckled dryly, finishing off the glass before flipping it over. “You’re drunk, Y/N. And no, she’s not ‘off limits’. It’s not like she’s a patch of grass.” I sighed, placing my head on the counter in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. “Can you guys not talk about me like I’m not here, please?” “We will when you finish saying your abc’s backwards,” Yoongi answered back curtly. “C, B, A!” “She’s got you there,” Jimin chuckled. “Okay, smart one, now tell me your address,” Yoongi continued though his tone seemed lighter. “Okay,” I agreed, lifting my head off the counter. I stared at Yoongi, waiting for his clones to disappear. “Say please first.” He sighed. “You can go trip in a ditch, I don’t really care.”

“Wow, rude!” I whined, pointing my finger into his arm. “And I was even telling Mr. Bartender here all about you! And now you’ll never know!” “She was talking about me?” “Don’t look so happy Yoongi. She was enjoying your DJing though.” “Urgh, Mr. Bartender!” I pouted. He only answered with a hearty laugh. “Anyways, let’s get you home Y/N. It’s getting late and I wanna go home,” Yoongi grumbled, getting up from his seat. “No thanks, I already made plans to trip in a ditch.” Yoongi broke out into a smile at this, his pink gums peeking out. “Aww that’s nice,” I cooed, reaching closer to cup his cheek though my hand landed on his shoulder. “What is?” he grumbled, helping me out of my chair. “Your smile,” I answered, leaning my weight on his body. I let my head rest on his chest, indulging in the clean scent of his laundry detergent that amazingly managed to last in a crowded, sweaty place like this club. “I like your smile.” “That makes two of us.” “Shut up Jimin,” Yoongi groaned as warm arms came back around my waist. “Come on, let’s go. Can you walk on your own, Y/N?” I yawned, lifting my head off of him. “Hmm, I can. Do I want to though?” Yoongi rolled his eyes making me laugh. “Okay okay, I’ll use the two legs my mother birthed me,” I relented, letting go of his shoulder, though his warm touched remained on the small of my back. “Have fun you two!” Jimin cheered. “Alright,” Yoongi sighed once we were outside the club. “Okay,” I giggled, taking in the cool air of the night. I bit my lip, trying to contain my own laughter as I looked back at Yoongi. “My legs are jelly.” “I can see that,” he answered dully though the smile on his lips said something else. “Come here, let’s get you down these steps. My apartment is five minutes away.” I smiled as he took my hands in his before leading me down the steps and onto the sidewalk. “So that’s what ‘on’ meant.” “What?” “You’re a cool DJ!” I could feel Yoongi chuckle against me. “Thanks I guess.” “Is that why you’re always tired?” Yoongi huffed, pulling me closer to him as we entered a new building. “I’m tired because life is tiring.” I grinned, holding onto his hands tightly as we walked up a flight of stairs. “Whiskey helps though!” He chuckled. “You’re right about that one.” “Next time,” I muttered as Yoongi bent down to pull off my heels. “I’ll treat you to some whiskey next time.” In the dimly lit entrance way I felt a weight over my head and then Yoongi let out a sigh. “How about you work on getting sober first.” I pouted as Yoongi walked away, flipping a switch on his way and lighting the rest of the room. “Sober’s not as fun though.” He smiled, handing me a bottle of water. “True, but neither are hangovers. Drink up.” I giggled, taking a sip before offering him my hand again. He chuckled before taking my hand and leading me into a bedroom. And as I giggled my way into bed, the room went dark and I was fast asleep. I woke up with cotton mouth and a sore throat. With a groan, I forced my eyes open. The room was bare, aside from the nightstand next to me with a bottle of water and an old alarm clock. I sighed, seeing the red lights read 11AM. And if it weren’t for the fact I was in a strange room, I would have curled back in bed. Unfortunately, the responsible side of me won over this time and I forced myself out of bed. When I opened the door I was met with Yoongi curled up on his couch, sound asleep with his phone still in his hand. I bit at my lip, the guilt finally seeping through. I really hadn’t meant to get so drunk last night…or well, I did, but I hadn’t meant for Yoongi to be the one to care for me. I could usually find my way home no matter how shitfaced I got. As if sensing my presence, Yoongi stirred awake, peeking on eye open before rising at the sight of me. “Morning,” I spoke up softly. “I’m really sorry, Yoongi.” He shrugged his shoulders, rubbing at his eyes. “If I get back pain later, I’ll just sue you.” I smiled at his nonchalance. “And thanks. For not leaving me in a ditch even though I probably annoyed you all night.” His lips moved ever so slightly as he looked down to check his phone. “Your phone is charging on the kitchen counter.” He pointed his thumb behind him without looking. My eyes lingered on his profile for a moment longer before I finally headed towards his open kitchen where my phone was, indeed, charging. As I lifted my phone off the counter, I couldn’t help the smile growing on my face. Min Yoongi scares most people. Up until now, he was the scariest person I knew. But now, instead of the nervous tick of my heart beating against my chest, I felt something I could only describe as warmth. Was I embarrassed about my behavior last night? Absolutely. But did I regret it? It was a strange thing, but no, I didn’t. If last night didn’t happen I wouldn’t have realized how sweet Yoongi actually was. - “Okay, so I sent the Powerpoint to everyone last night. I’m filling the first few slides and then Hobi’s section is after that. I looked over your designs, Y/N, and I think they’re great. I think by next week we can finish the filming. From there, you and Yoongi can start editing.” My eyes trailed from Namjoon whose nose was buried in his own notes, to Hoseok who was busy nodding with a big, approving smile on his face. I cleared my throat. “Uh, that’s great and all…but are we going to just ignore the fact that Yoongi’s been missing from class for the past two weeks?” Hoseok laughed, “Don’t worry, Y/N, he’ll eventually show up.” “Yeah,” Namjoon added. “He always does this. He’ll go MIA for a couple weeks, but he always comes back.” “Oh,” I nodded, collecting my things. “Okay.” And the two went on like normal but I couldn’t get the worry out of my head. It wasn’t just about the grade. I could care less about this class. But why would someone go missing all of sudden when everything seemed so normal before? And why were his friends so nonchalant about him going missing? “Y/N?” “Huh?” “We were just talking about hanging out later with some of our other friends. You want to join us?” Namjoon smiled. “We’re getting fried chicken!” Hoseok cheered. I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Maybe another time guys.” “Oh? Plans?” Namjoon grinned teasingly. I chuckled, glancing down at my phone for any new texts. I shrugged. “Maybe, something like that.” Yeah. Something like that. I stared at my phone for probably the hundredth time, hoping to get a text of some sort as I stood outside of an apartment building with a box full of fried chicken in one arm and a six pack of beer in the other. Me: Hey Yoongi… [2:13PM] Is everything okay? [2:15PM] You’ve just been missing a few classes so I was wondering… [3:34PM] are you free this evening? can I come over? [4:08PM] But of course, there was no reply. I don’t know why I was expecting one. If he wasn’t responding to his friends, why would he be responding to me? Which was why I was outside his door now. Honestly, 99.999999% of my body and mind was telling me I was crazy. That he was just tired of people and my face was probably the last thing he wanted to see. But listen. The 0.000001% was screaming in my head, what if this time around things were different? What if Joon and Hoseok were wrong? What if he hurt himself and needed to be checked on? And so with that in mind, I rang his doorbell, praying in my heart he wasn’t home. Okay, not really praying for him to not be home. Of course I wanted to know that he was at least safe and sound. That’s the whole reason I was here. So when a minute passed and no one came to the door, a chill of anxiety ran down my spine and I rang the doorbell five more times. Relief washed over quickly once the door opened though. Yoongi frowned, opening his door just a crack. He looked at me up and down with tired eyes and I could only smile back sheepishly. I raised the box of food up. “Chicken and beer?” Yoongi let out a very audible sigh before walking away from the door. I smiled, taking the sliver of opening as an invitation in. I chuckled, following quickly behind. Yoongi was dressed casually in an oversized white t-shirt and black sweats. It was strange not seeing him in a hoodie. And the back of his head showed clear signs of bed hair. “Did you just wake up Yoongi?” I asked, setting the food down on his living room floor. “Says the girl that woke me up,” he grumbled under his breath. But despite his frown, he came back from the kitchen with plates and cups. I smiled, opening the box of chicken and popping open a can of beer. I handed it to Yoongi. “Figured I should share good food, you know? And I just happened to be near your apartment.” He rolled his eyes, plopping himself onto the floor beside me. “You have good memory for a drunk.” I grinned, raising my can to his. “I drink to remember, not to forget.” “That doesn’t sound very fun,” he mumbled, clinking his can with mines. I laughed, placing a piece of chicken on his plate before grabbing a drumstick. “I’m sorry I woke you up Yoongi. I was worried though.” He bit into his chicken quietly before shrugging. “It’s alright, it was just another depression nap. I had to wake up soon anyways.” “You don’t have to go to work tonight, do you?” When he shook his head, I smiled in relief. “Good, I can’t finish all this food by myself,” I chuckled. His lips curved ever so slightly before he covered it with the sip of his beer. He let out another sigh. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a full meal like this.” I frowned at his words before placing more chicken on his plate. “Here, have some more. Next time I’ll bring some healthier food. But this is good food for the soul.” I laughed at my own words. Yoongi only looked at me with a raised brow. “Next time?” I smiled cheekily, nodding my head. “Well yeah, if you keep ignoring others, we’re bound to worry. I know we aren’t very close…and I’m not usually someone that would stick my nose in other people’s business…” I shrugged, chuckling out of embarrassment. “But I don’t know, I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t come check on you.” He nodded his head quietly, continuing to eat as I spoke. “I…” I bit at my lips cautiously as he continued to eat without ever looking up. “This might sound weird since we don’t know each other much but well…I guess I could say the same about you. You didn’t really know me but you helped me when I was drunk.” “But not drunk enough to forget the directions to my house,” Yoongi deadpanned, making me break out into a smile. “But you’re eating my chicken now, so quit complaining,” I countered. I grinned seeing him break out into a smile. “Anyways I just wanted to say that you’ll make people worried if you just disappear like this. It would be helpful if you could at least send a text.” “Okay, okay, I get it,” Yoongi finally huffed, sticking a wing into my mouth. “Now eat your chicken before I finish it all!” I giggled, chewing obligingly. After cleaning away all the chicken scraps, we sipped at our beers slowly. I looked at Yoongi, his eyes still drooping with exhaustion. At least there was more color in his face. I wondered if that was the beer working its way into his system. “What?” Yoongi looked me. I shrugged, swirling my beer as if I hadn’t just been staring at his face. “Nothing.” “You’re a real weirdo, Y/N.” I chuckled, turning to him again. “It’s your fault, you let me in.” “Only because of your good taste in alcohol,” Yoongi smiled softly. I smiled, scooting closer. “Next time, I really will treat you to whiskey!” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Your memory is really uncanny.” I chugged the rest of my beer before setting it down. “But seriously, if you ever need help with anything, like assignments, or if you just want to talk, I’ve got you—with whiskey or whatever kind of beverage you want. I mean it. I supervise one of the campus art studios but no one ever comes so I’m always on my own. So if you ever find yourself wanting to escape or you just want some quiet company, I’m here.” Yoongi nodded quietly before putting his can down too. “I have a studio too. In my apartment.” “You do?” I smiled along, knowing very well he had just changed the subject. Yoongi got up and I followed along as he led me to one of the back rooms in his apartment. Sure enough, there was a small office filled with music and recording equipment. “So that’s why Namjoon asked you to make the jingle,” I realized. Yoongi scoffed, taking a seat at the desk and opening his laptop. “That fucker was just pulling my leg.” I stood next to him, bending over to look at the files on his screen. “Can I hear something?” Yoongi rubbed at the back of his neck before scrolling down his list of files. “I don’t know…here, this is one of the jingles I made.” He clicked on the file, adjusting his sound before settling in his seat, his head resting on his hands with a look of boredom. But I could only open my mouth in silent awe as the beat resounded throughout the room. “Yoongi,” I whispered as the music came to an end. “That sounds too good to be wasted on a dumb school project.” He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s really not. I’ll work on it more.” I looked at him, smiling. “If we don’t get an A with this, I’m sending our professor to get his ears checked.” Yoongi only smiled to himself shyly. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to work then,” I finally spoke up after a moment of silence. “Let’s meet again and discuss the project properly then.” Yoongi nodded before getting up from his seat. “Next time don’t come knocking on my door at weird hours.” “6PM is not a weird hour Yoongi,” I argued. I grinned mischievously at him. “What if I bring whiskey with me next time?” He rolled his eyes with a small smile on his lips. And with that I was on my way back to my own apartment. Yoongi: thx Y/N [9:40PM] for food and waking me to get work done [9:43PM] ur a good weirdo [9:55PM] - I sat in the quiet of my studio, staring at my midterm painting for what seemed like the thousandth hour. Yet again, no one was using this studio, which I had figured when I took on the job. Everyone else preferred to use the studio that Jenny used. Not that it was the bad thing, I liked that I had a whole studio to myself. “You’ve been staring at that for a long time.” I jerked around to see Yoongi leaning on the door frame. He gave me a small smile before lifting his hand, revealing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I laughed. “Perfect.” “Courtesy of Jimin,” Yoongi added before taking a seat beside me. I chuckled, taking the bottle into my own hands. “Tell Mr. Bartender thanks then.” I got up to get mugs out of the cabinets. I smiled, handing Yoongi a mug. “Sunshine Club,” Yoongi read the cup aloud. “Sounds just like me.” I chuckled, pouring a generous amount into our mugs. “You mean a cup full of whiskey? Yes, it does.” “This is nice,” Yoongi commented, gesturing to my painting. I sighed at the sound of nice again. Yoongi sipped at his whiskey. “In a, you know, sucky, feels like shit kinda nice.” I broke out into a laugh. “Yeah? How so?” His eyes lingered on the canvas. “It feels confusing, like something is just beyond the blur, but I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a scary thing. And that’s fucking anxiety-inducing,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “But fuck, that’s kinda comforting too…to think someone else is thinking the same thing as me.” I smiled. “Can you join the fine art’s department, Yoongi?” “Not enjoying yourself here?” I shrugged, finishing my mug of whiskey. He poured me more quietly. I smiled, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. “It’s better now that you’ve come.” A smile flashed across his face as he rubbed at his neck shyly. “Anyways, what’s it called?” I sighed, looking back at my own painting. “Fog.” “Hmm, fitting.” A quietness settled around us as we stared at my canvas, lost in our own thoughts. “How’s your music coming along?” I finally asked, breaking the silence. He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s going and then it’s not. It cycles over and over.” “It was already so good when I heard it last,” I smiled softly. “I’m glad you let me hear some of it.” “Glad?” “Yeah,” I chuckled. “So when you become famous, I can tell everyone I heard your music first.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, a lopsided smile stamped over his face again. “Whatever.” “And I’m glad,” I added, “because the same way you described my painting is the same way I feel about your music. It’s comforting. Plus, as a fellow artist, I know how scary it is to share your work. Thanks for trusting me.” There was another silence before Yoongi took my empty mug and walked over to the sink. “Thanks,” he spoke softly, his back to me, “for coming to me that day. No one’s ever done that…checking on me to see if I’m okay. I didn’t think I needed it until, well, until you showed me I did.” Most people think Min Yoongi is scary. People see the scowl on his face and look away too quickly. Now seeing the small of his back, bent over the studio sink, I know now Min Yoongi is not scary. He’s only human. And people are so busy looking away, they missed the sweet smile that graces his lips and the way his shoulders squeeze together, shivering softly when he laughs. And if I had been one of those people, I would have missed the tired look in his eyes, the heavy bags that carried the weight of his dreams and worries. I’m glad I wasn’t. “What?” Yoongi glared my way as he turned around to see me staring at him. “Stop looking at me like that.” I shook my head, smiling. “No Yoongi, I’m glad I came that day too. Now you’ll always know where to find me, and I’ll know where to find you. We’ve got each other.” - Thanks for reading! [Masterlist] Prequel to All Clear

#bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #min yoongi #bts yoongi #fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #fluff #angst #college au #writing

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bazzledazzled · 6 years ago

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Special Cases

This is for the @carryon-countdown Day 4: Fluff!! Now I’m not going to lie, there might be a SMALL bit of angst but that’s because I can’t help myself, but I promise there’s tons of hand holding and cuddles and honestly I just love these dorks. This is an idea I’ve been playing with for a while after I read a couple fanfictions based on it for another fandom and I’ve desperately wanted a Snowbaz one so here it is!

Word Count: 6k Ships: Snowbaz

Summary: When the Humdrum sends a bunch of brightly colored pink and purple bugs after Simon, Baz isn’t sure what to make of it. They seem harmless enough, but when Simon is bitten Baz finds out that they’re the infamous Lovebugs, who cause their bite victims to fall in love with the person they saw last for a week. And that happens to be Baz.

“SIMON!” This was Baz’s first mistake in the long list of mistakes that would lead to his inevitable doom. And no matter how much he tried to undo it, the list just seemed to get longer and longer.

Baz bolted for the boy with messy golden curls and sky blue eyes that appeared way too often in his dreams. Sky blue eyes that he was practically sick of he spent so much time day dreaming about them. But still, as soon as Snow looked into his eyes, he felt his heart melt and his stomach flutter with butterflies that couldn’t seem to understand subtlety.

Snow swayed on his feet, his blue, blue eyes fluttering. He seemed like a large tree, about to fall over and crush hundreds of houses under his weight. His magic was overflowing, filling the air with the smell of smoke, and it only got worse the closer Baz got. But nothing stopped him from throwing himself between Simon and the Humdrum’s next monster. It seemed almost harmless. After all, what more could a couple of pink bugs do than scare a couple first years? Baz pulled out his wand, aiming at the bugs. They started to swarm around him and Simon both. Baz turned around to look at Simon. He could barely think, his magic was so thick in the air. Baz knew the look in his eyes. He knew the way his eyes glinted with electricity and the way his edges seemed to blur. He knew what it meant. Simon was about to go off. “Snow!” He growled. And that’s what did it. For a second, there seemed to be a second of silence. A second where the bugs stopped buzzing and the wind stopped blowing as all of the students of Watford held their breath. And then Simon exploded. For a moment, Baz felt himself being suffocated as the sheer force of Simon’s power slammed into him like a wreaking ball, knocking him off his feet. Distantly, he heard Simon call his name and felt the crushing pain fade away, as if something or someone was protecting him. He blacked out.

Simon’s brain felt fuzzy. It always did after he went off. It felt like someone took his brain out, stomped on it, and put it back in, his thoughts never finishing and words getting jumbled up. There was a hollow ache in his chest. A kind of ache that pounded steadily with the pulse of his heartbeat and made his throat seem to choke up. Blearily, he opened his eyes, seeing a shadow of a figure in front of him. “Ba-Baz?” He says, feeling a swell of hope inside of him. That’s not right.... “Oh thank god,” He hears Penny says, sighing in relief. “You’re okay.” Simon’s eyes adjust to the lighting and he focuses on Penny. She looked both worried and relieved at the same time and her curly hair was up in a messy bun, a thing she only did when she was stressed or anxious. Which was more than one would think, considering Penny was always stressed about school work. Her glasses were smudged, hunting that she must’ve been here since whenever they brought Simon in or else she would’ve cleaned them in her room. Penny hates getting smudges on her glasses. “What happened?” Simon says, rubbing his head. The hollow feeling in his chest seems to grow bigger. Like a void. Simon almost would describe it like the Humdrum’s dead spots, but this was more. It was more painful. It felt like someone was pulling him in a certain direction, and he had no idea where that was. Also where was Baz? “The Humdrum attacked and you went off,” Penny says with a shrug. “It’s kind of weird that he sent bugs, don’t you think?” Simon was nodding, but he was no longer listening. Because now the pounding of his heart was beating to a steady rhythm, a rhythm that said the same thing over and over. Baz, Baz, Baz, Baz, Baz, Baz. “Where’s Baz?” Penny frowns, getting her typical “concerned” face. She always does this when Simon talks about Baz. She says it’s because he has an obsession. Simon says he’s rightfully obsessed, considering Baz was a vampire that was trying to kill him. Probably. “He left just a little bit ago,” Penny says, blowing out a puff of air. “He left for the dorm.” Simon felt his heart start to scream Baz’s name. He was so confused and his head was starting to pound too. Where was Baz he needed Baz why wasn’t Baz here— Simon starts to stand up, and Penny immediately starts to push him down. “Woah woah woah where do you think you’re going?” Simon tries to get up again, this time getting shakily to his feet. “I’m going to my room.” “You can hardly walk. Rest.” Simon does not do that. He tries to push past her, his mind screaming at him about Baz. He couldn’t understand why, but he felt it push him to tears. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. He feels like his brain is being pulled apart. “Simon?” Simon stumbles away from Penny, not daring to look back as he bolts out of the door to the infirmary, running as fast as his legs would carry him to the Mummers House. He made it halfway up the stairs to the large tower before his legs finally gave out. He cursed and swore, stumbling up and trying again, making up a few more before swaying on his feet. His head was spinning and the room was spinning and everything— Then everything suddenly stopped. He felt a rush of warmth as suddenly a hand grabbed his, steadying him. The fog in his brain lifted and the hole shrank. He looked up at the person, who’s scowling down at him. “Can’t have you falling down the stairs all on your own, Snow. That’s my job.” Simon just gaped for a long moment, a flood of thoughts filling his mind. He’s so pretty, I bet his hair is soft, I bet he’d let me hold his hand and— No. What was he thinking. That was ridiculous. “Snow?” Baz says, raising a perfect eyebrow. Simon felt himself gasp at the way he said his name, the way it rolled off his tongue and filled the space between them. “Your eyes are pretty,” Simon says sheepishly, not even realizing it slipped out. Baz dropped his hand from his shoulder, his scowl deepening. Immediately the fog returned and Simon whimpered as his stomached seemed to contract on itself. The choking feeling was back. “Woah woah Snow you don’t look so good—“ Baz jumps a little when Simon grabs his hand, twining their fingers together and practically sighing in relief. He leaned the slightest bit towards Baz, who stiffened. “Okay uh... lets get you upstairs...”

Something was wrong with Simon. Not wrong as in just went off wrong, but a kind of wrong that Baz wasn’t even sure to explain it. He had this sort of far off, dopey expression on his face that didn’t seem to go away unless Baz let go of his hand. And when Baz did Simon’s face twisted in agony, his eyes glossing over, becoming glassy with tears. Baz could almost imagine fissures in that glossy surface, just a hint of the cracks tearing Simon from the inside out. They get to the room and Baz sets Simon on his bed, not really sure how to do this. Him and Simon never walked up the stairs together, let alone took care for the other when they were sick. Baz sighs, running his fingers through his hair. Simon whimpers a protest as Baz pulls away from him. “What happened, Snow?” Baz says, standing over him, a deep frown on his face. He looks Simon over for any damage. Then he sees it. A small bite, on his neck right before his shirt collar begins. He frowns, sitting down next to Simon and examines it. Simon automatically relaxes. The bite looks red and swollen. Baz is almost certain that Simon was not ready to leave the infirmary, but here he was anyways. Simon was always like that, putting himself in danger for stupid things even if he had a broken leg and couldn’t walk. Sometimes he was so stupidly brave Baz just wanted to put him in a safe little cottage in the countryside with goats or something since he seemed to love them so much. “Baz you’re so pretty,” Simon slurs. His brows furrow, seeming confused for a moment, but when he looks over at Baz it smooths out. “Like really pretty.” Baz stands up suddenly, causing Simon to loose balance for a second. He cannot deal with this... whatever this was. And if it was some sort of trick he definitely wasn’t going to deal with it. “Baz!” Simon says, stumbling up and wrapping his arms around Baz. Baz intakes sharply, his entire body freezing up. Simon was hugging him, actually voluntarily hugging him. Aliester Crowley, what was going on? Simon looks up at him, a smile on his face. Baz pats his head awkwardly. This was weird, even if this was one of Simon’s plans to throw him off his game. There has to be more to this story, and sadly the only person who would know anything would be the other person who Simon would hang out with. Baz groans. “C’mon Snow. Let’s find Bunce.” Baz pulls him off of him. Simon gets a sort of bewildered expression on his face and it almost looks like his emotions are at war with each other. But then Baz slides his hands into Simon’s and all of that melts away.

“Bunce,” Baz whispered scream, peaking out from a hallway. He wasn’t sure what this situation was, but he was pretty sure the other students would flip when they saw him and Simon holding hands.

Merlin and Morgana... “Baz?” Baz tries his hardest to suppress a groan. Why couldn’t anyone understand this was a dire situation? Baz grabs Bunce, pulling her into the hallway with him and Simon. Penny flashes him an annoyed look, then looks over at Simon, then back at Baz, then down to their hands.... “You’re... holding hands with Simon.” “Yes I’m aware of that.” Baz says, flashing a glare. There’s a moment of silence, where nobody says anything, except Simon. He’s humming to himself in a way that is frustratingly adorable it was really becoming a distraction. “Will you shut it?” Baz hisses. Simon looks taken aback. Baz almost hopes, hopes he’ll come back with one of his snappy comebacks that are awful, but they’re normal. “Okay.” Baz groans, leaning against the wall. “Okay is there an explanation for this or am I just supposed to go with it?” She’s looking at Simon when she says it, but Baz is the one who answers. “I was hoping you would have one,” he says miserably. Bunce frowns at him. “What did your burning hatred turn into burning passion?” Baz almost, almost wanted to light her hair on fire. But he was a nice person, and didn’t want to have that put on his record. “Bunce this is serious.” She pushes her glasses up, a hand on her hip. “I still don’t understand what you’re on about.” “Something happened to Simon and now he won’t let go of me.” Bunce raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious!” It was remarkable how Bunce could manage to make him feel like a child sometimes. Honestly, he was almost a little afraid of her. “Okay but that doesn’t explain why you’re holding his hand.” Baz groans. “Because whenever I let go, this happens.” Baz lets go to demonstrate and Simon gets that look in his eyes. He doubles over, falling to his knees in pain. Immediately, both him and Bunce react, dropping to their knees. Bunce is the first to reach for Simon, putting a hand on his cheek and calling his name over and over. When he doesn’t respond, Baz puts his hand on Simon’s back. Simon responds immediately, his muscles relaxing as he leans into Simon’s touch. Baz and Penelope share a look. “Let’s get him to the infirmary.”

Simon’s dreams were worse than usual. He saw flashes of wars and destruction and had a sinking feeling that all of them were his fault. He saw his friends sacrifice themselves for him, saw Baz sacrifice himself for him. It was too much. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to go off. But he was frozen in place as he watched the events play out, doubled over in agony as pain filled his gut. A bug like the one from earlier landed on him. It had pink wings and purple spots and it crawled up his arm. Another landed. Then another. Soon he was covered in them and he couldn’t stop screaming and screaming and his heart pounded, calling for the same person over and over and over. And then everything faded away and a dreamy haze settled over Simon. The pain was gone, and so was the war and the bugs. He was holding someone’s hand, dancing in a field of flowers. He smiles up at the person to find that it’s Baz. For a moment he feels confused. Wasn’t he supposed to hate Baz? But then Baz twirled him around and he wanted nothing more than for a Baz to do it again. He giggles, his heart pounding with the same name, but this time not with desperation, but with love. He sighs happily, wanting it to always be like this. He remembered hating Baz, hating everything about him, but well... that wasn’t right was it? Do I really hate Baz?

“I think I got something,” Bunce says, running into a room with a book in hand. After leaving Simon alone for a few minutes for Baz to give Penny the full explanation of what was going on, Simon began screaming and thrashing. Baz’s heart twisted painfully and he didn’t even try to hide it as him and Penny rushed to Simon’s side, Baz placing a gentle hand on Simon’s arm. Immediately, he calmed down. Penny frowned at him, announcing that she was going to do research while he stayed here and watched over Simon. Baz sighs, beyond tired. Having Snow cling to him like he was a lifeline really was starting to exhaust him. He was finding it hard to hide his feelings when Simon was snuggling up to his arm or saying things like he said earlier. Seriously why? “What is it, Bunce?” She takes a deep breath, pushing her glasses up. She flips to a marked page, looking for a specific line. She clears her throat and reads it out loud. “The lovebug is a pink and purple bug similar to a ladybug. These bugs most often travel in hoards and can take out many persons at once. It’s power is, for the most part, quite harmless as long as victims perform the proper recovery procedures.’” “What are the procedures?” “I’m getting there!” Penny says irritably. She turns back to the book. “‘When a victim is bitten, common side effects include blacking out, powerful emotions, as well as swelling around the bite. Victims may have a hard time distinguishing thoughts or forming words. This leads them into the second phase of the lovebug bite. “‘The bug gets its name from the powerful effects it can have on emotions, specifically the emotion of love. Typically, once bitten, the first person the victim looks at becomes the person they attach themselves too, though there are special cases. The bite’s venom messes with the brain and stirs up emotions for this specific person, making the victim want to be near them at all times. While this seems harmless, if the victim is rejected or ignored, it can have disastrous effects. Typically victims experience extreme agony when parted with their chosen partner that can, in some cases, be fatal.’” The blood drains from Baz’s face. “So... Snow thinks he’s in love with me?” Penny purses her lips and nods. “I mean, that’s only from one source, but it seems accurate enough. It would explain why Simon gets so worked up when you leave him.” Baz runs his hands through his hair. “How long does it last?” “The book said that it can last for about a week, sometimes less depending on how much time you two spend together,” she says with a small smirk. Baz glares. “So I’m stuck with this? For a week?” Pennelope nods, looking a little sympathetic. “If it makes you feel any better, the nurse says you’re both excused from your clases until Simon gets better.” Baz scoffs. “And break my perfect attendance? Nice try Bunce.”

Managing Simon Snow proved to be fairly easy. Baz tried not to read too much into how easily he fell into the habit of taking Snow’s hand as they climbed the stairs to Mummers House or not even flinching when Simon leaned into him, head on his shoulder. Getting his feelings under control was another story. Bunce kept flashing him glances and Baz couldn’t decern their intentions. She probably thought Baz was going to try and use this against Simon, find some way to embarrass him or flat out reject him, making the damage worse. She hardly would leave Baz alone, asking for reassurance over and over that Baz would help Simon recover. Penny didn’t have to worry. Baz hated to admit it, but he would save Simon in a heartbeat, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Neither of them ever could know how much Baz loved Simon, how much he dreamed of the moment Simon would twine his bony fingers through Baz’s and smile a goofy smile up at him. Baz desperately wished it was real. Penelope finally left them alone around dinner time, but only after Baz insisted she go down and bring back food for Simon. She didn’t seem happy about it, but didn’t argue. Baz relaxed as soon as she left the room. Simon was sitting next to him and it took everything in Baz not to stare. Because Simon was sitting next to him, playing with Baz’s fingers and humming thoughtfully to himself. His eyes were closed and his hair glinted in the setting sunlight. A smile pulls at his lips as he opens his eyes slightly, looking at Baz. Baz tries to push down a blush. “Like what you see?” Simon says, sounding so stupidly drunk it was hard to believe he wasn’t. Baz couldn’t stop the snort that escaped his lips. If Snow remembered any of this.... Would he? Remember it, that is. He seemed so out of everything that it was hard to believe he would. “Sod off, Snow.” Simon giggled a pure little laugh that made something in Baz’s chest tighter. Simon rubs Baz’s hands. “Git.” There’s a beat of silence between them. “Your hands are rough,” Simon says finally. Baz sighs. “Fire burners hands. Also a side effect from the violin.” Simon’s eyes are wide and curious. “It’s so cool that you play.” Baz feels like he’s going to melt. Like, literally melt, Wicked Witch of the West style. “I guess,” Baz says, his voice cool. “Can you play for me?” Baz sucks on his fangs. “Maybe later. I don’t want to hurt you.” Simon seems a little confused by this statement, and for a moment Baz thinks he sees a bit of the old Simon shine through, but then this Simon, the stupidly in love kind of Simon that Baz has never seen comes back. Baz sighs as Simon smiles up at him. He really wishes this was real.

Simon couldn’t ignore it any longer. His thoughts had cleared just enough where he could finish a thought to the end of a sentence. He knew that he was acting dopey and stupidly in love with Baz, his arch-nemesis, his enemy. And he knew it wasn’t an act. He knew that the first two or three days were fed off of the burning desire that suddenly spread through his heart, completely foreign and unwanted, but the days that followed were different somehow. Baz was kind to him. When Simon started coming to his senses, he realized how horrible this could’ve ended. Baz could’ve taken advantage or left him alone to suffer. Sure, he could still hold this over Simon’s head, but Simon didn’t think he would do that. He held his hand when Simon asked. He spoke to Simon in a soft voice. He didn’t hesitate to pull Simon back into a hug when Simon started to whimper in pain. He even slept on the floor by Simon’s bed when they realized on the first night that the pain would come back if Baz wasn’t close, even while he was sleeping. None of it lined up. Baz was doing everything for Simon, even though it completely messed up his schedule without complaint. He didn’t make fun of Simon, just rolled his eyes and laughed softly as he pulled Simon into a hug, threading his fingers through his hair. And Simon loved it. More than he should. He loved it so much, he loved the feeling of being in Baz’s arms and feeling safe and secure. He loved staying up late as they whispered to each other, Simon rambling sentences that maybe didn’t make sense, but Baz listened anyways. And there was one thing that Simon couldn’t deny. Something that he knew, knew lurked in the back of his mind since fifth year, something that was always there, but never got the right attention. Simon loved Baz, that bastard.

It was Monday, which meant that Baz was going to have to do the inevitable. The past three days were fine. It was the weekend and Baz and Simon were perfectly comfortable staying in their room and letting Penny bring up meals for them, not yet ready to face the world. But now it was Monday, and they had school. Baz sighs, looking at Simon. He was sleeping soundly, no different from any of the other times he slept. His hair caught the sunlight and glimmered like some majestic unicorn. Baz stands from his spot on the floor. He takes a deep breath before hesitantly letting go of Simon’s hand, hoping he could get a moment to shower without all hell breaking loose. Simon’s brows furrowed, but other than that he didn’t stir. Baz breaths a sigh of relief before grabbing his clothes and quickly heading to the bathroom. He showers as quick as possible and gets dressed before heading back in the room. When he gets back, Simon is awake and there’s a pained expression on his face. Baz swiftly walks over to him, sitting down and placing a hand on his shoulder. Simon looks over at him, a small smile on his face. “You closed the window.” Baz rolls his eyes. “Yes Snow I don’t know if you know this but our room gets exceedingly cold.” “‘Cause your a vampire,” Simon says with a condescending smirk. Baz scowls, easily falling into their old habits and forgetting their situation entirely. “If I was a vampire, Snow, I would’ve bitten you by now.” “Arse.” It was only after they made it to breakfast that Baz realized that Simon didn’t act like a hopeless romantic. He acted exactly like the Simon Baz has known for eight years.

Something hit Baz’s cheek. He opted to ignore it in favor of listening to the teacher ramble about their lesson plan.

Then it hit him again. Baz got mildly irritated, but again, he did not care. He tried to continue to take his notes like he always did.

The piece of paper hits his cheek again and Baz finally gives in. He turns around, a sneer on his face.

“Quit it, Snow.” Simon sticks his tongue out, putting his hands on the side of his head and wiggling his fingers. Baz huffs, turning back to his work. Simon bumps their knees, then flicks the paper at him again. Baz clenches his teeth.

“Snow.” Simon pretends not to notice, looking ahead with a pencil in his hands as if he’s taking notes. Baz knows he isn’t. He’s pretty sure Simon has never taken notes in his life. He crumples up the paper, throwing it back at Simon. It hits his shoulder and lands on the desk in front of him. Simon flashes him an offended look, but Baz is back to doing his notes.

Simon tosses the ball of paper back to Baz one last time. Baz’s nostrils flare as he rounds on Simon, ready to punch.

“Read it,” Simon mouths. Baz huffs, rolling his eyes. Why was Simon always so persistent? He picks up the piece of paper, unfolding it slowly to watch Simon’s face twist in agony. On it there was one single word. Baz turns to Simon, who is chuckling wildly because he passed a secret note to Baz that just said “Prick.” Baz sighs.

“Honestly Snow, you talk about yourself too much.” The expression on Simon’s face was absolutely priceless.

The rest of their day went very similar to how it began. They fell into easy, teasing banter as they held hands or bumped shoulders. Baz found himself smiling, being put at ease by the familiarity of it all. It just seemed… right. They didn’t fight to the extreme like they did before, but Simon also wasn’t draping himself across Baz like someone who’s been struck by cupid’s arrow. It was nice, and a small part of Baz wondered if this, the small banter over something stupid followed by lots of hand holding, is what it would be like to date Simon Snow. For a moment, he let himself pretend that it was true.

But he knew it wasn’t, because soon Simon would snap out of it and, more likely than not, run him through with his sword.

Baz however, did not think much of Simon’s behavior until they sat down with Penny for dinner. They continued to hold hands under the table as they ate, flashes of pain still crossing Simon’s face whenever Baz let go, but their chatter remained the same.

“So it wore off?” Penny asks, flashing them a questioning glance. Both Simon and Baz stared at her blankly.

“What?”

“The lovebug venom. Simon’s acting normal again and not… freakily obsessed with you.” Simon scoffs.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not always obsessed with him.”

“See what I mean!” Baz frowns at her, an eyebrow raised.

“What are you suggesting? That it’s wearing off?” Penny’s brow furrows in thought.

“I don’t think that’s it. It’s too soon…” She stares down her chicken, before standing up quickly and grabbing her bag.

“I’m going to the library.”

“Don’t need a play by play, Bunce,” Baz says with a sneer, but Penny is already darting out of the dining hall.

It’s almost the end of the week, which makes Baz nervous. He doesn’t know how Simon will react once he finally snaps out of it. Baz doesn’t even know if Simon will remember, but even if he didn’t it would still be a disaster.

Because Baz doesn’t want this to stop. It’s selfish and he hates himself for even thinking about it, but he wants things to stay like this. He wants Simon to distract him with stupid notes during class. He wants to hold his hand as they walk down to breakfast, completely ignoring any whispers around them (they’ve been constant all week. Nobody is really sure what happened, but it sets them on edge seeing Simon and Baz, who are always fighting, holding hands and acting as if everything were totally normal. It’s been kind of funny, seeing the shock on everyone’s faces).

Baz wanted to make Simon happy. That was the real reason why he was still doing this, even though Simon seemed well enough. Being apart didn’t seem to bring Simon too much pain, but every time Baz pulled away Simon looked almost heartbroken. He knew, knew it was just the venom, but he still didn’t abandon Simon, letting him hug him and hold his hand as much as he wanted.

It’s Saturday again. It’s been a little over a week since Simon has been bitten, and him and Baz were minding their own business as they ate breakfast when Penny came rushing into the dining hall, a book clutched in her hands tightly. Her hair was wound up in a bun but stray hairs were poking out everywhere and her glasses were even crooked. She sat next to Baz, breathing heavily. Baz frowns at her.

“You look terrible.”

“Not looking so good yourself, Basilton.”

“Touche.” Penny’s eyes are alight with life and she’s clutching the book in a tight grip.

“What is it Bunce you look like you’re going to explode,” Baz says tiredly. Penny pushes everything out of the way and sets the book on the table, flipping to a page. On the top of the page there’s the word “Lovebugs” written in elegant script, followed by a sketch of a small insect. Baz raises an eyebrow.

“I thought we already knew what bit Simon?”

“Not that! Look!” She points to a section titled “Special Cases.” Baz flashes her a look.

“This must’ve been what they glossed over in the other book.”

“Okay…?” Baz turns away from her, focusing back on the book.

“While usually the feelings stirred up by the lovebug tend to be fake or nonexistent, there are some special cases. These typically occur in someone who is attempting to suppress feelings towards any individual they may feel complete and genuine love towards. The lovebug acts on those feelings and, rather than having their fixation be on someone they see when they first wake up or someone they saw before they were bitten, their attention will turn towards the person they have repressed feelings for.” Baz scowls at Penny.

“Simon saw me before he was bitten this doesn’t apply to him,” Baz says, crushing any hope that had blossomed in him. Penny glares at him.

“Keep reading.” Baz sighs, but does. He doesn’t know what this has to do with anything.

“At first, a victim in this particular situation will behave much like any other lovebug victim, becoming obsessive of their person and craving attention and acting genuinely romantic. This will generally wear off within three days and the victim will be able to form logical thoughts as well as converse with those other than their chosen person. They will still need physical touch to keep their pain at bay, however they will be more aware of it and may be more hesitant about physical contact.

“Once the victim begins to form logical thoughts once more, they will start to behave more and more like themselves, but less constricted. They will do things they want to do, say things they want to say, with minimal influence from the lovebug. To put it simply, the lovebug simply gives them a boost of confidence to pursue their desires if they happen to be one of these ‘special cases.” Baz stares at the page blankly, looking it over again and again. He feels like he’s going to puke. All of his emotions seem to be overwhelming him. It couldn’t be true. Simon couldn’t have meant all the complements he gave Baz, but at the same time everything matched up. It was the only logical explanation for all of this, but there was no way Simon had repressed feelings for him. It just wasn’t possible.

Suddenly, from beside him, Simon grunts in pain and Baz’s eyes widen in panic. Penny looks at Baz, also looking concerned. Baz starts to reach for Simon’s hands, only to realize he was already holding them. Why is he still in pain?

“Simon--” Baz says softly, too scared to do anything. He doesn’t know what’s going on.

Then Simon drops his hands. He blinks his eyes, once, twice, and focuses on Baz. He looks like he just woke up from a dream and his mouth is open wide, his brows pulled together in confusion.

“Baz?” Baz doesn’t even hesitate. Swiftly he stands up, darting out of the hall before Simon can even do anything. He can hear Simon’s loud, clobbering footsteps behind him, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t turn back. Not until he’s safely in the Catacombs, hoping Simon can’t follow him.

“Simon--” Penny hisses, pulling at his arm. Simon doesn’t want to let Baz leave, but he doesn’t seem to have a choice. He turns to Penny, exasperated.

“Baz--”

“Simon,” Penny says, this time more forcefully. Simon bows his head. “Simon you just finished recovering we need to bring you to the nurse--”

“But Baz--”

“Baz can wait, Simon. Please I don’t want you to get hurt.” And Penny looks genuinely concerned, but Simon can’t bring himself to feel touched.

“He won’t hurt me,” Simon mumbles, looking away from Penny. He feels a little bad about leaving her like this, but he can’t just let this sit, whatever this was.

Simon loved Baz. He loved him so much and he didn’t want the past week to disappear. He didn’t know if Baz felt the same, but he wasn’t just going to leave it unspoken. He needed to know.

Simon knew exactly where to find him. It really wasn’t that hard. He goes down to the catacombs, trying his luck with a finding spell. Of course, the spell backfires slightly and Simon feels himself actually being pulled towards Baz. He stumbles, rounding a corner. He knocks both himself and Baz to the ground. Baz looks dazed as Simon scrambles off of him, but there’s tears in his eyes. Simon puts his hands on Baz’s cheeks, wiping them away.

“What are you doing here, Snow?” Baz says, giving him a half-hearted scowl.

Simon answers with a kiss. Because he wants to. Because he’s wanted to kiss Baz for as long as he could remember, yet he still hasn’t. Because he’s terrible with words and has no idea how to tell Baz about the emotions swirling in his chest.

Baz pushes him away and fear claws at Simon’s gut. He messed up he messed up a lot. Baz looks at him, his cheeks tinged pink, looking at Simon with an unreadable expression. Simon hated how good Baz was at hiding his emotions.

“Are you still under the lovebug’s spell?” Baz whispers softly, his voice sounding uncharacteristically sad. Simon shakes his head and keeps shaking it as the words, “no” tumble from his lips. Baz looks at him with wide eyes and Simon doesn’t even know what to think anymore. Baz moves closer and Simon isn’t sure if he’s going to kiss him or bite him.

And then Baz’s lips are on his and Simon feels his heart stutter in his chest. He can’t believe it. Baz is kissing him. He’s kissing Baz, and the world is upside down.

Baz is kissing Simon and the only thing he can think about is how Simon said the lovebug venom wore off. This wasn’t bitten, love spell Simon. This was the real Simon.

And he wanted to kiss Baz.

Baz burst into a fit of giggles, his hands knotted in Simon’s hair. Simon didn’t know what was going on, but he felt himself giggle too, his arms draped around Baz’s neck. He felt so inexplicably happy that he could barely contain himself. Because he kissed Baz and Baz kissed him back. Because this has been the best week of his life, and he wanted every single day to be like this. He wanted to hold Baz’s hand and hug him and kiss him until his lips were sore.

He sighs, leaning into Baz and Baz doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around him, burying his face in Simon’s curls. Simon smiles, taking a deep breath.

“Can everyday be like this,” Simon whispers into the silence. Baz chuckles a little. It’s so soft and loving it makes everything in Simon melt.

“Maybe not exactly but… yes.” The last word comes out in a breathless whisper, as if Baz couldn’t believe what he was saying. Simon pulls back, looking at him with a wide grin.

“Good.” And then, Simon kisses him again, the kiss holding the promise of many more like it to come.

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #rainbow rowell #wayward son #fanfic #snowbaz fanfic #snowbaz fanfiction #candy writes #carry on countdown 2018 #COC 2018 #carry on countdown #day 4: fluff #lovebug au #au

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panda-noosh · 6 years ago

Text

Sunshine {demigod!Keith x Reader}

Words: 6k

Summary: Keith Kogane was insufferable. An absolute nightmare to be around. So why are you getting visions of him kissing you?

Genre: angst – percyjackson!au

Warning: if pet names make you cringe, you might not wanna read this.

Notes: masterlist – “Tbh just imagine a demigod au. Where Keith is still son of ares and the reader is the daughter of Apollo and Keith calls her sunshine constantly... fuuuuuuuuuuudgee I want Keith to call me sunshine.” I got this lovely anon message a few hours back and I really, really loved it. I know I kind of strayed a little bit from the main concept, but I have a habit of getting carried away with these things and my black heart just had to throw the angst in lol. But I hope you all enjoy!!

---

He was stupid.

Stupid, and annoying, and quite honestly, not worth your precious time.

Keith Kogane had an attitude that just irked you. It got on your nerves, made you bristle with the firey need to put him in his place at all times. He could never just talk. He had to command. All because his dad was Ares, god of war, Keith thought he was some big shot demigod who deserved all of the attention and all of the fame and all of the credit for things that, honestly, he wouldn't have been able to do if it weren't for the Apollo cabin.

It was an Ares personality trait, you were well aware. They all did it. They all had this aura of superiority about them, and even though Keith seemed mild in comparison to his siblings, he still managed to be the one guy who caught your eye and annoyed you.

Even now, during the most quiet time of the day at Camp Half-Blood; training. Training was a necessary thing in Camp Half-Blood, and it was bad if you skipped it. Chiron often got angry at people for skipping it, and an angry Chiron was a Chiron you did not want to deal with, which was why you were currently leaning against the fence post, arms folded over your chest, trying to pretend like you weren't glaring over at Keith Kogane as he battled it out with one of his sisters.

“You know, you're not making yourself look very subtle,” Hunk, your half-brother, called over to you.

Your eyebrows twitched up as you turned to look at him, arms still folded over your chest so that your Sun Blade gently nicked against the fabric of your training gear. “Hm?”

“You. You've been staring over at the Ares cabin for the past ten minutes. Haven't moved a muscle. I thought you'd been paralysed for a moment.”

You flushed, tried to cover it by biting your lip and looking away. Hunk and you were of similar ages, but you didn't like to talk about that. The fact that your father had gone from your mother to Hunk's mother in less than a few months was a fact you both chose to ignore. It was easier that way, just letting the gods get on with their own things and hope they didn't interject in your business in the meantime.

“Do you think you two will ever stop fighting with one another?” Hunk asked whenever you didn't respond to his earlier comments. He was busy now swinging a rope of fire above his head, ready to let it loose whenever the time was right.

“Who?”

“Well who else?” he said, getting impatient with your fake obliviousness. “You and Keith! The sexual tension drives me up a wall, and I think everyone would be a bit happier if you two just finally decided to stop pretending you hate one another-”

“I'm gonna stop you there,” you said, before you clicked your fingers. A ball of fire erupted in your palms and you hastily threw it through the centre of the rope Hunk was still swinging around; the fireball sliced through it, and Hunk's magical rope of fire disappeared, ashes floating to the ground being the only evidence it had been there at all.

Hunk frowned and glared over at you, but you ignored him and turned your head back to where the Ares cabin were training; to hell with them all, you said. To hell with him. To hell with his fancy equipment and the fact that he could easily lift a sword with barely a grimace to describe the weight of it. To hell with his sly comments. To hell with his protruding muscles and black hair that was currently slicked back with a thin sheen of sweat that was dripping down his forehead and his nose and making him glisten golden in the sunlight-

Yeah. Yeah. To hell with him.

Everybody else thought they had it all figured out. Everybody commented on the sexual tension between you and Keith – so much so that you had gotten to the point where you had just stopped trying to defend yourself. In your head, it was utterly outrageous that anyone would sense sexual tension between you and the son of Ares – whenever you looked at Keith, the last thing on your mind was jumping his bones. Whenever you looked at Keith, the only thing you wanted to do to him was tell him to shut up and perhaps send a swift punch to the back of his neck.

But nobody else seemed to understand that. They all seemed to think you two were just dawdling. That you two were just playing your hand at this hard-to-get thing, and eventually you would come together and it would all fall into place and everybody would be able to say I told you so. You nearly scoffed, folding your arms back over your chest and going back to casually leaning against the fence post – they would all see. One day, you were going to fall in love with someone who wasn't a complete asshole, who wasn't a complete show off. Then they'll all laugh and talk about how stupid they had been to think you and Keith could be anything more than mortal enemies.

----

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

You cried out, eyes snapping open as soon as the words were whispered in your throbbing ear.

You jerked upright and immediately came face-to-face with the absolute last person you wanted to see in this moment.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snarled, shoving Keith away from you. He laughed as he stumbled back, giving you just enough time to push yourself away from the tree you had been dozing against and stand up straight. You were well aware of the dribble that was staining the corner of your mouth, the hay currently weaving its way through your tousled hair. You didn't care. Not in the slightest. Not one bit.

You were hurriedly fixing your appearance for you and you only.

Keith was grinning from ear to ear when you looked back up at him, and it was only whenever you made eye contact with him that you realised he hadn't actually answered your question.

“Did you just call me Sunshine?” you asked, forgetting about your previous query. You could care less what he was doing here – he could do what he wanted, just as long as he left you out of it.

He grinned even deeper. “Did you like it? I came up with it myself whenever I was watching you fall asleep a minute ago.”

You flushed crimson, despite trying your hardest not to. “Watching people sleep is creepy.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of left me no choice when you decided to fall asleep whilst on watch. I've basically just saved your ass, Sunshine.”

You gritted your teeth against the nickname, gritted your teeth against the absolute physical reaction it set off within you. You cursed to yourself. Butterflies were stampeding through your stomach, and you hated everything about it.

“If Chiron were to have been the one walking through-”

“Yes, okay Keith, I get it. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. You don't need to go on about it.”

“Oh, but I do. And I think I will for a little while longer.” He chuckled as you ground your teeth together, fists clenching at your sides. You could feel your skin heating up with the anger coursing through you, and it took everything in you not to completely explode at him in this moment – he had some nerve!

“You can go now,” you said. “You did your job – I'm awake.”

“I thought I could give you some company. You still have another three hours of watch to complete, and I'm sure it gets lonely out here all on your lonesome.”

You rolled your eyes and slumped back against the tree. Though he was right, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing such a thing. “I'm good, thanks. I'll make do on my own.”

But Keith, forever being the stubborn Ares son that he was, did not listen. He barely even registered your words as he pulled his sword from his back, set it on the grass before he slumped down beside you.

It was as soon as his shoulder brushed yours that the world melted away and left nothing behind but the oddest sight you had ever seen.

You were familiar with this feeling, this sudden disassociation from the world; all of the Apollo kids were. Having a father who was the god of prophesies often left you no choice but to suddenly disconnect from everyone else so you could catch a glimpse into the future, but never before had you felt it this strongly.

The sight before you was strange; you were familiar with the surrounding area, but you were confused as to why you would be standing in the Ares cabin. But you were. You could see the tapestries hung up on the wall, the weaponry littering the floor, the unmade beds and the scraps of food laying around hopelessly.

The cabin was empty bar you and Keith.

Keith was standing close to you. Much too close for your liking, and his hand was on your hip and you were staring at him in a way you were fairly certain you had never looked at anyone else before in your entire life. Your jaw was clenched – as it usually was whenever you were in Kogane's presence – but you were making no move to shuffle away from his touch.

The scene was moving in slow motion. Keith moved forward a single step, and then your hands were slowly rising and knotting into his red shirt, pulling him closer as if the rope had finally snapped and you just needed him to be close to you.

Keith leaned in. He whispered something you couldn't hear, leaned in a little bit more. From the sidelines, it was almost as if you could feel his breath tickling the space just below your ear, could smell his deodrant, could feel his heartbeat through your-

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped open. You gasped. The heat that had once engulfed your body had grown ten fold, and it took everything in you not to cry out with the slight burst of pain that came with snapping out of a prophesy.

You scattered forward. You didn't want to be touching him. Not right now. Not whenever your powers were sensitive, and every bone in your body was vibrating with the overwhelming emotions you were feeling right now.

Keith was on his knees, having clearly just been trying to snap you out of your episode. He looked at you now, though, with wide, worried eyes, his hands gripping the leaves you had once been sat on as if trying to stabilise himself.

“I'm sorry,” you choked out, unsure as to what you were apologising for.

“What just happened?” he asked. “Gods, Y/N, you look like you're about to pass out. You need to-”

“I need to get back to the Apollo cabin,” you snapped. It came out harsher than you intended, but his recoil comforted you. It meant you weren't at risk of him touching you any time soon. “Can you – Can you take over my watch?”

Keith was stiff. You expected him to tell you to go to hell, to tell you to suck it up and carry on with your job, but he didn't. His head barely moved, but you knew he was nodding, and as soon as you got the green light, you fled as fast as you could into the darkness, refusing to turn back and look at him.

---

Surely he hadn't been about to kiss you?

He was Keith Kogane, for crying out loud. The eerie, annoying boy you had despised from the moment you had both said hello to each other on that cold winters day all them years ago – you had only been seven years old, had been stuck at Camp Half-Blood for a little over two years whenever innocent little Keith stumbled in through the gates and immediately tried to make every person his bitch – he thought he was superior even then. It must have been a shock to the system whenever he learned that every single person he was trying to outsmart had been through the exact same thing as him – he wasn't the only troubled kid with a god for a parent.

You soaked in the bath water and tried to think up any excuse you could as to why your brain had conjured up such an absurd image.

Your skin was still scolding; it hadn't cooled down from the moment you had scrambled from Keith's side. The bath water you had run had been cold, but was now lukewarm at the contact of your flesh against it. You rubbed the water up your arms, but nothing happened. You were still sweating, still shaking as if you had a fever.

It had given you such a physical response, and you couldn't quite figure out why. Perhaps it was because it had been cut off so abruptly – everybody knew that it was extremely dangerous to pull an Apollo kid out of one of their visions. It shocked the body too much, even had a slight risk of death if the shock got the better of them.

You were lucky that your vision had been one you wanted to be pulled out of as soon as possible.

“Y/N? Are you still in there?”

You flinched upright, wiping hair out of your face. “Hunk. Yeah. Sorry. I'll just be a minute.”

“Keith told me what happened to you. He seemed really worried.”

You froze, hands gripping the edge of the bath tightly. So tight that your knuckles paled. Your throat suddenly felt slick, and you closed your eyes against his words.

“You know we have to tell Dad whenever something like this happens, don't you? It's protocol.”

“Hunk, please don't.” You scrambled out of the water then, grabbing a towel and wrapping it tightly around your middle. You were comfortable enough with Hunk like this – sharing a cabin with him for as long as you had done meant that having a towel wrapped around you was hardly a shock to the system.

You opened the door to the washroom. Hunk was leaning against the door, messing idly with his bandanna which he had taken off for the night. He had a green face mask drenching his skin, and was dressed in his silken pyjamas with ducks on them.

He looked up at you through the gaps in his face mask.

“Dad has to know,” he said. “In fact, I don't doubt that he already knows. He sees everything, that guy, I swear to gods.”

You winced. “I don't want to talk to him. I don't even – Look, it wasn't that big of a deal. We all get visions every now and then-”

“And they're dangerous,” said Hunk, because they were. “There's a reason we're trained up to try and fight them off, Y/N. They cause trauma. They've killed some of us.”

You shivered. “I'm still alive.”

“But you're clearly shaken up.” Hunk sighed then and ran a hand through his brown hair. “Keith was worried, and that's what worried me. He said your skin started heating up really badly and then your eyes started glowing golden and then you just bolted from him. What did you even see?”

“Nothing,” you said immediately. “Nothing special. I don't even remember it that well.”

Hunk raised a brow, clearly not believing a single word you were saying. Oh well. You didn't need him to believe you – the prophesy was over, and it was obviously a mistake. What you had seen made no sense, and never would make sense, and you were better off just forgetting about it.

With this thought, your skin heated up even more. You gritted your teeth against the slight buzz of pain that came with such a thing, and Hunk took notice.

He shook his head. “Dad will want to see you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was here by tomorrow to talk to you.”

“Dad doesn't need to worry-”

“Dad isn't worried. He's doing what he needs to do to make sure his kids aren't prophetising some unknown war.” He sighed. “And by the looks of you now, what you saw disturbed you.”

---

Apollo made his appearance the very next day.

Just as you remembered him with his glowing, golden eyes and his tanned skin. He had on his usual pair of red tinted sunglasses, his fingers littered with an unnecessary amount of golden rings, golden necklaces looping around his neck. On his middle finger, he had tattooed a smiling sun.

He grinned brightly when he saw you. “Y/N!”

It was a surprise he even remembered you.

You smiled shyly as Chiron closed the door and gave you and your father some privacy – privacy that you didn't see as necessary, but refused to comment on right now. It would only make Apollo uncomfortable, and you didn't want to deal with an angry, uncomfortable god at the moment.

“I've been made aware that there's some stuff you and I need to discuss, hm?” he said. He pulled a chair out from beneath the large, mahogany desk and sat down, before he clicked his fingers and another one shot out towards you. You hesitantly took a seat beside him, idly messing with your fingers in your lap.

“You had a vision last night, didn't you, little one?”

You gritted your teeth. “I don't know what you're talking about.” It was easier to lie, even though you knew full well that your father was well aware of your deceptions.

He raised a brow, barely visible above his massive sunglasses. “So we're playing dumb today, hm? Did I not raise you to never tell lies? Did I not tell you that lying wasn't going to get you anywhere?”

“That might have been one of your other kids.”

Apollo frowned thoughtfully. “Might have been. I don't really remember.” He snapped back to reality then. “Tell me what it was you saw, Y/N. Exactly what you saw.”

And you were well aware that it was his powers making you do it, were well aware that your father was currently in your head, stifling through your troubled thoughts for that one memory, that one prophesy that had gotten you here in the first place. You were well aware that you wouldn't be able to lie even if you wanted to.

The sudden pull on your conscience was entirely him, and without your permission, the entire vision you had suffered through the night before was pouring from your lips in immense, over-dramatic detail.

Apollo sat back and listened as you unfolded for him. You winced when you heard yourself talking about how Keith had leaned in, how your hands had bunched up in his shirt, how you had been in the Ares cabin in the first place. That in itself was weird enough without the added dramatics of a potential kiss thrown into the mix.

After the tale was told, you gasped and felt a force pushing you back into the chair. You hadn't even realised you had been leaning forward. Sweat now lined your forehead, and you felt manipulated.

“Gods,” you whispered, wiping a trembling hand over your brow. “I don't know how things are in Olympus, father, but here on earth, what you just did is illegal.”

“False,” he said casually. “Your government do it all the time. Now, let's discuss what it is I've just seen – does my daughter have a little crush?”

You flushed bright red, hand freezing on your forehead. “What?”

“Well, why else would you be having prophesies about kissing Keith Kogane? A son of Ares, of all people! You could have gone for someone from the Hephaestus cabin – they're much calmer, I think. Although Hephaestus can cause a ruckus every now and-”

“I do not have a crush on Keith Kogane!” you shrilled.

Apollo flinched back. “Don't raise your voice like that.”

“Then don't make assumptions like that!”

“It wasn't an assumption, little one. I saw what I saw, and you saw it as well – it was a prophesy. A very brief glimpse into the future that will-”

“It was a mistake, is what it was,” you snarled. “Keith and I hate each other!”

“Not according to Hunk.”

Your face fell. “You spoke to Hunk?”

“I thought I'd catch up with him, yes.” He casually leaned back in the chair, draping his arm over the back of it. At first glimpse, you would have truly seen him as no older than his mid twenties. “He told me that the son of Ares was quite worried for you yesterday – flustering around, asking how you were and if he could see you. That doesn't sound like hate to me – not at all.”

“And what would you know?” you mumbled, folding your arms over your chest and sinking lower into your seat.

“You're acting like a brat now, Y/N,” Apollo said. “You were never like this when you were a youngster. You're meant to grow out of these fazes, not grow into them.”

You hollowed out your cheeks, resisting the urge to get up and leave. It was useless anyway. No doubt Apollo had put some magical, double bolted lock on the gods damned door and you would be trapped in here until his say so. But you had butterflies in your stomach, and your skin was prickling with a heat that had not come from the aftershocks of a vision – it was pure embarrassment, pure emotion that was making you want to open a window right now to let air wash over you.

“Personally, I'm relieved the vision wasn't something more,” continued Apollo. “It could have been disastrous, but it was nothing more than some romantic awakening. Quite anticlimactic, if I do say so.”

“Hmph.”

Apollo grinned then, a grin that was almost identical to your own. “Oh, do cheer up, little one. Perhaps Keith Kogane will be good at kissing. Do I need to give him the dad-to-boyfriend talk before I leave?”

“I think you can just leave.”

Apollo grinned even brighter, as if his daughter hadn't just totally banished him from her presence. “Very well then. I bid you good luck for the future and all that.” He stood up, stretched out his limbs dramatically. As he brought his arms back down from their sky-high stretch, he slapped his hands against your head in that way grandfathers often did for the sake of it. You winced, shying away from his touch.

“It was good seeing you again, little one,” he said. “And remember – there's no point in fighting off the inevitable. It'll just leech your energy.”

And without a reply to carry him back to Olympus, your father erupted into flames and disappeared.

---

“Oi! Sunshine! Oi! There you are!”

You quickened your pace. He was the last person you wanted to see. The absolute last person you wanted to-

He grabbed your wrist, tugged you back. As soon as his fingers wrapped around wrist, you gasped and flinched away, afraid of his touch triggering another vision. They were rare, but you didn't want to risk it happening again.

“What do you want?” you hissed, rubbing your wrist frantically, as if trying to banish your skin of the feel of him completely.

Keith's eyes widened. “Woah. What's wrong with you?”

“Can you just say what you want to say and let me leave? I don't exactly wanna speak to you right now.”

He seemed stunned. You weren't sure why. The both of you had ever gotten along – if he was shocked at your attitude now, you hastened to wonder just how soft you had been with him before.

“Well, if you're gonna be a bitch, I guess I'll just go,” he said. “Sorry for wanting to make sure you were okay after last night.”

You were angry. You were furious, and you weren't even sure why. Your skin felt warm, and his violet eyes were pouring into yours and you could feel your legs turning to jelly as you remembered the way you could genuinely feel his breath on your neck during your vision when he had leaned in so slowly, so teasingly-

And it made you mad. It made you mad that people had been right, that this prophesy was something you couldn't avoid. Apollo had made it out to be something so simple, and you supposed it was to him, but to you, it currently meant everything.

The fact that Keith didn't even know just made you angry.

“Don't pretend like you give a shit about what you saw yesterday,” you snarled. Keith's eyes widened even further. “Gods, you must have thought it was so amazing to see an Apollo kid actually have a fucking breakdown in real life – you've only heard of them in story books, haven't you?”

“Y/N-”

“But they're real, Keith, and they happen, and they suck. They hurt, and they destroy lives. So get a good look at the aftermath whilst you still can, because I don't want to see you again after this.” With that, you stepped forward, shoved him roughly for no other reason than you just wanted to feel his skin beneath your fingertips before you turned and fled.

This would be how you avoided the prophesy coming true. You just wouldn't talk to him. You would hurt him, say awful things to get him to stay away from you – then maybe the future would shift. It would change itself and you would never have to worry about making a complete and utter fool out of yourself ever again.

Keith didn't even bother to reach for you whenever you turned and walked away from him, making sure to stomp your feet and clench your fists, making sure to make yourself look extra angry – maybe the fury would repel him even further. Maybe he would see this side to you and realise he had been an absolute fool to mingle with you in the first place.

And weirdly, as soon as you entered the Apollo cabin and crashed down upon your bed, you had never felt emptier.

---

Weeks passed. Nearly an entire month.

Hunk had been keeping you sane throughout the whole thing. He had been there for you the morning after your outburst on Keith, had rubbed your back and said he understood. Of course, he had told you that he didn't think you should have run from your feelings in the way you had, but he hadn't forced the topic of rekindling things with the Ares boy either, which was a relief. You weren't sure how much of that you would have been able to take.

Keith had kept his distance, as well. For the first few days, you would hear the usual hollering of the word 'Sunshine' being thrown in your direction, but he eventually gave up. He had been repelled, making your life a hell of a lot easier. Now, you could easily brush past each other in camp and not even spare one another a single glance.

And honestly, it was destroying you.

You weren't sure why. For years you had been fairly certain that you had only seen Keith as attractive – his personality had never grabbed your attention. At least, you didn't think so. For years, you two had been at each others throats, and now that it was gone – that innocent back and forth – you weren't entirely sure what to do with yourself.

The days were longer. Events became more like business than fun, because Keith had always made them fun. Even though, in the moment, you would swear left and right that he was annoying the hell out of you as he poked you in the side and tried to distract you from the task at hand, now that you were missing his constant mumblings in your ear, you missed it.

But it was for the best, you reminded yourself. Always for the best.

It was a particularly warm day whenever Chiron ordered you to take on laundry duty for the first time in years.

Laundry duty was mostly taken on by people in the Hephaestus cabin, or the Aphrodite cabin. The kids in those cabins had a thing for perfection, and so they very rarely let others touch their clothing, which meant they took on the added task of doing everyone elses laundry, as well.

But the Hephaestus and Aphrodite kids were out training elsewhere today, meaning the baton had been handed down to the Apollo cabin.

“Just deliver these to the right cabins and that's it,” said Hunk, shoving a basket full of warm clothes into your hands.

You groaned, throwing your head back. “I didn't sign up for this.”

“Stop whining and get it over with,” he said.

And so you did, much to your own dismay. You were surprised to see just how many cabins you had never been in before – they were all so different, and you felt a different type of uncomfortable pull with every one, as if the gods were angry at you for trespassing.

You weren't really thinking of seeing him whenever you racked your knuckles against the door of the Ares cabin. At the end of the day, Keith was known to never be tied down to the indoors – he liked his freedom, liked walking around outside and showing off whatever cool new blade he had acquired. So the idea of him opening the door to greet you was the last thing on your mind.

Until it was him standing in front of you.

The both of you blanked. You felt your fingers slipping from the handles of the laundry basket, and you had to stumble to catch it upon your knee and haul it back into your proper grip.

It was such an easy mistake to make. It was such an easy situation to fall into, and you had never thought of it happening like this – you delivering laundry. How anticlimactic was that? Whenever you first had the vision, you thought the only way you would ever end up within the Ares cabin would be by force, perhaps a battle raging outside forcing you under the only cover you could find – the Ares cabin.

But nope. It was happening because you had been given laundry to hand out.

“Uh – clothes,” you said. “I have clothes.”

Keith nodded slowly, not once taking his eyes off of you.

“You can take them if you want,” you continued. “Actually, I'd prefer it if you took them. I need to get this basket back to Hunk, and-”

Keith's hand suddenly reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

You gasped, shocked at the sudden contact. Your fingers really did slip then, the basket tumbling out of your grip and landing in a pile right in the doorway.

The clothes spilled out, scattered themselves upon the wooden floor.

“Son of a bitch,” Keith grunted, bending down to clean up. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”

“It's fine,” you said, kneeling down to help him.

Why you had done such a thing, you were quick to question, because you and him were suddenly very close together, and your body temperature was rising again, and this was it. This was the future happening, the future you had predicted. You knew what was going to happen, knew you should try and prevent it in some way, knew there was barely any point in avoiding the inevitable but wanting to do so anyway.

You gathered the bundle of clothes into your hand and placed them messily back into the basket – you didn't even care that the remaining cabins clothing had been mixed up, that you would have to go back to Hunk and other Apollo kids and ask them to sort through the items once again. You just wanted to drop his clothes off and leave.

You pushed past him, shoulders nudging as you made your way into the messy room. Keith gawked at you from the doorway, but you ignored him. You had to.

“You should thank Hunk for the washing,” you grumbled, trying to make innocent conversation. Talking was perhaps the only thing stopping you from buckling under his intense gaze right now. “He even added a special powder so all of your stupid, skin-tight shirts smell better. But I think he ended up-”

Your words died in your throat whenever you felt a warm hand on the small of your back – it wasn't anything suggestive. It was almost as if someone was easing you through a crowd, a gentle brush against the lower part of your back that had you whirling around to face Keith before you could think any better of it.

His eyes were searing into yours. You were the child of the god of the sun, but his gaze had to be more smouldering than what yours was. His violet eyes had turned dark, and he was biting on his lower lip.

“Sunshine,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Where have you been?”

Your eyes closed instinctively. You weren't sure why. Where had the tough persona disappeared to? Why weren't you shoving him away, telling him to go to hell and take his stupid nickname elsewhere?

Maybe it had something to do with the burning desire suddenly coating your stomach, the sudden urge to wrap your fingers in his red jacket and tug him closer to you, feel him closer to you.

“Don't – Don't call me that,” you managed.

He chuckled breathily. You felt it tickle your skin.

“Where have you been, Y/N?” He whispered your real name as if it were some kind of secret, leaning impossibly closer to your ear as he spoke – this was just like an Ares kid to do, but it felt so different, so unexpected coming from Keith.

“I've been busy,” you replied. “Why do you care anyway? It's not like we ever liked each other.”

Keith scoffed. “We certainly didn't hate each other, though, did we? Even the other campers were able to pick up on that.”

You winced, recoiling at the mention of the things the other campers had been saying about the two of you for years now, the things you had both denied left, right and centre.

“You were avoiding me, weren't you?” he continued. “For whatever reason, that vision you had made you want to stay away from me. What did you see, Sunshine? What does your future hold?”

“Don't be creepy,” you said. You were trying to bring the mood back down, trying to bring back the banter you were so used to having with him, but his eyes were still hooded and dark, and he made no attempts to move away from you. On the other hand, you were making no attempts to move away from him, either.

“It was about me, wasn't it?”

“So many questions.”

And then his hand was on your hip all of a sudden. This was your moment. This was the time for you to pull away, to destroy the future you had been destined to have because you were too nervous to throw yourself into that kind of thing just yet – but you stayed rooted to the spot.

His fingertips burned. It was fire against fire, your scolding skin igniting under his grip.

“You know that old saying they have – it takes being away from someone to realise how much you need them?”

Your breath hitched. “Keith-”

“I believe it,” he gravelled. “I believe it now.”

You eased then, his confession making you feel weak. Your eyes closed again and then you were letting yourself go, saying fuck it to every single anxiety you had once had as your hands travelled up Keith's middle until you were bundling your hands in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, just like you knew he would. “Neither of us can change the future, Sunshine. We might as well not try.”

He kissed you then. Slowly and precisely, as if he was afraid of hurting you somehow. His lips were chapped and bitten, but they were perfect all the same, left you craving more.

His other hand rose from his side and he cupped your jaw, moving your head only slightly but still giving you the freedom to do what you wanted – a characteristic you never expected from an Ares kid. He was going to allow you to pull away if you wanted to. For once, he didn't want to be in complete control.

You pulled him closer to you, crushing your bodies together until Keith was gasping against your mouth at the sudden harsh tug you gave to his shirt. You let go of the material, instead wound your hands in his hair and tugged. Keith panted against your mouth before pulling away completely. His eyes were closed, and for the first time, Keith Kogane looked vulnerable.

“Was that – Was that what you saw in your vision?” he asked hoarsely.

You nodded stiffly, still trying to catch your breath.

“And you never told me?”

“I was trying to avoid it.”

“Look how that turned out.”

“You just have to be right about everything, don't you?”

He opened his eyes then, grinned and pressed a short kiss to your lips. “Always, Sunshine.”

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Bandit/Jäger oneshot in which Jäger is convinced that jerking off while wearing Bandit’s jacket is the best thing since sliced bread. (Rating E, explicit smut/eventual fluff, ~6k words) - written for @blitznbandit. Happy Birthday!! 💞💞

The music is loud enough to dampen all other sounds, the usual hard rock Bandit favours, full of cheesy guitar riffs and dudes singing about all the things these kinds of dudes normally sing about – and yet Bandit’s voice easily pierces the cacophony despite being nothing more than a low purr: “I can’t take my eyes off you, you’re beautiful. I could do this all night.” One of his hands pushes under Jäger’s t-shirt, rubs over a nipple while the other continues to slowly but surely drive him insane, keeps the strokes slow. He knows exactly how Jäger likes it, massages the head and his balls now and then before his fist closes around the shaft once more to continue the teasing. They’re in a remarkably clean bathroom somewhere, probably a club, both of them sober but having made the decision to go pee at the same time? No, that’s right, Bandit dragged him here after undressing him with his eyes, couldn’t stand to be separated from him just a minute longer.

When Jäger throws his head back into the pillows at a particularly vicious throb of his rock hard erection, the headphones almost get pushed off his ears and so he has to momentarily withdraw his one hand to adjust them before he pushes it back under the jacket, the only piece of clothing he’s wearing right now. The rhythm of the song returns, resonating in his body, and he sinks back into his fantasy like a comfy blanket.

He was cold earlier, on the way to the club or pub or wherever they are, that’s why he’s wearing it. It fits him perfectly, the soft leather like a second skin and it smells like Bandit, too, dizzyingly so because Jäger’s toes curl every time he moves and catches a whiff of it. In a way, it’s like being hugged by Bandit constantly, and so his projection does, whispers more filth into Jäger’s ear as he proceeds to jerk him exactly how he likes it only now there’s an edge to his voice. He sounds strained and keeps glancing down, is clearly affected by what he sees and it won’t be long until he’s tired of waiting, until he turns Jäger around and fucks him, right then and there in the really quite clean bathroom, claims his body, moans into his ear as he thrusts into him and reaches around to continue -

Jäger gasps and lies to himself for a second, pretends he’ll go for another round if he finishes early but it’s only his impatience getting to him – this together with the mental image of Bandit losing control due to his unbearable desire is too much and he’s so close already. Breathing heavily, he forces his own hand away from his weeping dick and strokes his thigh instead, forces himself to wait a bit before he continues. In his mind, Bandit is teasing him, denying him his release so they can come simultaneously, telling him how good he feels as he keeps pushing into Jäger’s hole which is tingling pleasantly right now. Maybe he should go a step further today, he has enough time. It’s tempting.

For now, he has to pace himself. He could take a break and possibly dig up Bandit’s aftershave as well, change positions and reach a bit lower, to the place where his fingers are lazily trailing now, brushing over his scrotum, travelling further south. He decides to go for it but first, he needs lube, so he heaves a shaky sigh, opens his eyes and does not expect Bandit to just stand there two metres away, staring at him directly with a small, disbelieving grin on his lips and his phone in his hand.

The panic is instant and follows the second in which Jäger’s heart literally stops in horror because not only has he just been caught in the act of wanking on Bandit’s bed wearing nothing but his trademark jacket, no, he’s been caught by the devil himself. Before the consequences which undoubtedly await him register, he jerks upright into a sitting position, dumbly shielding his cock from view, and pushes the blasted headphones off. It’s not even the first time he got caught while wearing some, that’s the beauty of it, he really should’ve known better, learnt from his adolescence but he’s already defending himself from himself mentally, recalls the fact that Bandit wasn’t supposed to be in the base the entire day and yet the only thing he blurts out is a heartfelt: “Fuck.”

“Oh yeah”, Bandit agrees with him and lets his grin morph into the sleaziest smirk Jäger has ever seen, “you fucked up, babe. Big time. Normally I have to pay for a show like this.”

“Delete it”, Jäger demands with burning cheeks.

“Oh, they’re on my cloud now”, Bandit replies innocently while tapping away at his screen – at least his gaze isn’t focused on Jäger anymore.

“Delete it all, Dom.”

“Whoops, I sent them to myself via email.” His teammate wiggles his eyebrows at him. “What a shame, I deleted all my saved passwords from my phone. Even if you steal it, you won’t be able to access it to purge it all.”

Fuck, Jäger repeats in his head and frantically starts searching for an alternative. Have Mute hack Dom’s phone? Mute would probably save the incriminating evidence himself and blackmail Jäger with it in the future. Tell Blitz? Jäger would rather give up his mortal soul than admit to what he’s done. As terrifying as it sounds, Bandit himself seems to be his best shot. Or rather: the least worst. “Okay, look”, he begins and hates himself for how his voice cracks.

“Ready to bargain?”, Bandit guesses correctly with a wolfish grin. “That’s what I like to hear. What are you willing to do to make these oh so delicious photos disappear, hm?”

A dangerous question. An absolutely dodgy and perilous question, a slip-and-slide kind of question because Bandit grants him the option of proposing exceedingly desperate solutions which his teammate might not even have considered viable, discarding them because surely, Jäger would never. But right now, senses heightened due to the adrenaline spike resulting from the shock, skin tingling where Bandit’s gaze unapologetically rakes over it and mind still occupied with residues from his earlier fantasies, Jäger would. Oh would he ever. He looks at Bandit and pictures himself on his knees in front of him, for the first time in his life servicing another man and dear God this shouldn’t be turning him on so much. He bites his lip and remains silent, refuses to answer for fear of what might come out of his mouth.

“No offers? Alright, no problem. I actually have something in mind already.” Humming to himself, Bandit starts rummaging in his wardrobe as if finding one of his colleagues clearly masturbating to him was an everyday occurrence for which he’s perfectly prepared. Regardless of his mortification, Jäger is intrigued, his cock twitching in anticipation and his mind racing while trying to discern what it is Bandit has planned for him. It must be something filthy, maybe he’s going to torture Jäger with toys or maybe he’ll finally, finally go all the way. Not that he’s refused before seeing as Jäger never gave any indication on wanting it, but this would be the ultimate excuse. He can tell himself – and Bandit – he only gave in because he was blackmailed. Right? He’s chewing on his lip and tries not to let his excitement show on his face, not to let Bandit know how much he’s actually looking forward to whatever it is he’s going to do to him.

And then Bandit pulls something out of his closet and says: “Wear this.”

Jäger blinks. Looks at the outfit with an even expression and struggles to come up with a reply for a few seconds. Ignores Bandit’s predatory grin. He can’t be serious. “You can’t be serious. No fucking way.”

“Who do you think would appreciate the pictures the most? Elias? Maybe one of the girls?”

“You can’t make me put this on.”

“Oh, I can and I will. You break into my room, wear my jacket, choke the chicken on my bed and have the audacity to tell me you’re not going to do me this small favour?”

It’s – Jäger can’t do this, he’ll never be able to look into a mirror again. Mindlessly horny or not, there is a line and this is definitely crossing it, he’s fine with performing sexual favours for his own pleasure but this – this is too much. Why does Bandit even own one of these? “Over my dead body, Dom.”

Bandit’s grin widens. “Well, if you insist.” And Jäger is not sure whether he’s joking or not.

Two minutes later, Jäger is kneeling on Bandit’s bed, wearing every midlife crisis suffering pervert’s wet dream of a schoolgirl uniform and valiantly fighting the flush threatening to darken his cheeks. It’s a complete set together with thigh-high socks, a much too short skirt and even a loose tie over the tight blouse – and Jäger wants to die. As if him sporting this abomination of an outfit wasn’t bad enough already, Bandit’s devilishly pleased face only increases his embarrassment to a point where Jäger is this close to actually choosing literal death over this humiliation. Worryingly enough, his dick hasn’t received the memo it’s supposed to be disliking any of this and instead is straining against the underwear on which Bandit insisted. It’s too small and uncomfortable and Jäger rues the day he first laid eyes on Bandit because he’s the whole reason it’s come to any of this.

“Why do you have this”, he wants to know defeatedly. The clothes fit suspiciously well and the two of them are built very similarly, so -

“Shut up and spread your legs. You’re going to finish what you started earlier, only by my rules. How does that sound?” Bandit sits down on a chair he pulled towards the bed, not close enough to reach and yet entirely too close for comfort. His leather jacket is draped over the backrest and Jäger throws it a longing glance. He’d much rather wear it than this disaster.

Upon hearing Bandit’s plans for him, he can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment amid all the horror. He swallows his pride together with the that’s it? lying on his tongue and obliges, allows Bandit a better view and averts his gaze. He’s never done this, never dressed up and… performed for someone else’s viewing pleasure so he’s lost on what to do and how to do it. Arousal is still thrumming in his blood, convincing him to relax a little, give in, and yet he’s hesitant.

“You like this, don’t you?”, Bandit purrs and Jäger only just stops himself from nodding. “This is supposed to be a punishment though. You’ve been naughty, you dirty little slut.”

“Okay, no”, Jäger protests immediately in indignation, “I can – I can do what you asked, but that’s -”

“Fucking slut”, Bandit repeats with gusto and a triumphant grin. “My rules, don’t forget that. Besides, you were the one ready to nut all over my poor jacket. If you want me that bad, show me. Let me see how much you want this.”

Jäger remembers now why this is a bad idea: Bandit is going to be insufferable. Reluctantly, he lifts the edge of the skirt, revealing the outline of his erection which jumped happily at Bandit’s insults (something he’ll have to worry about later, now’s not the time). His teammate’s expression slips into self-satisfied and he stretches out on his chair in anticipation. “Lovely. Go ahead, then. Give me a show.”

With gritted teeth, Jäger pulls down the waistband of the panties, hooking them under his testicles and freeing his stiff member from its prison, and contemplates existence for a second. It’s entirely his own fault he’s here now, there’s no real denying it – he could’ve borrowed the jacket and none of this would’ve happened, he wouldn’t be wrapping his own fingers around his cock with Bandit watching intently. Somehow, it’s worse than being touched by him, he’d prefer Bandit using him instead of this where he himself is in control and has the illusion of agency. And despite the shock earlier, the tip is still sensitive to the touch, sends small electric shocks through his body on every light stroke.

He feels filthy, sullied purely by the fact that Bandit is watching him, that there’s an asymmetry between them: Jäger flushed, breathing unevenly and genitals exposed whereas Bandit is composed and fully dressed. It’s elating somehow, like being allowed something forbidden and so he tightens his grip and speeds up, even leans back and flips the skirt up so Bandit won’t bitch. He can’t lie to himself and pretend he’s simply jerking off like usual because he knows Bandit’s there even if he’s not looking at him and instead fixing his gaze on his own swollen dick, no, it’s completely different and… he can’t say he doesn’t like it.

“Were you thinking about me?”, Bandit asks innocently and Jäger loses his rhythm for a moment, glances up in disbelief. “Huh? Were you imagining my hands around your cock instead of your own?” He’s balancing his chair on two legs while regarding Jäger with a fond smile and in any other context it’d seem almost sweet – right now, it’s nothing but cheeky.

“I wasn’t -” He breaks off and gasps when the words finally register because oh yeah, it’s the logical conclusion from how Bandit found him, isn’t it? Therefore, Bandit now knows of his attraction, possibly guesses a crush and dear Lord. That’s not ideal, is it? He’ll shamelessly exploit his knowledge. Kind of like he is now.

“But you were. I didn’t know you liked me that much.”

“I don’t”, Jäger insists emphatically and vaguely panicked. Even after more than a year, Bandit still intimidates regularly him, his lack of conscience and overall callousness are alarming and the two of them clash now and then, neither of them ready to back down from an argument which often results in stony silence until they go drinking together and suddenly are best friends again. Bandit is fickle and vulgar and yet something about him appeals to Jäger, probably his softer side which surfaces rarely. He can be lovely and thoughtful and even compassionate, and thus Jäger’s mind wanders, conjures up situations where this complicated, complex man feels so drawn to him that his lust wins over common sense – and it’s fucking cliché, he knows that, as cheesy as it is improbable and so he’s ashamed to admit to his fantasies.

“No? You don’t?” Bandit acts surprised and for a moment, Jäger wants to trip his chair and send him flying. “If it’s not my charming personality, it must be my body. Right?” It warrants no answer and so Jäger simply concentrates on not coming too early – the temptation to end this as quickly as possible is strong, just like his desire, though he feels Bandit would make his dissatisfaction known in that case and he wants to avoid exactly that. “Maybe it helps you if I take off my clothes as well.”

Jäger stops moving his hand. While he’s frozen and simply staring at his erection framed by the pattered fabric of the skirt and the white lace, he hears rustling and feels his heart speed up. Slowly, he raises his gaze and is confronted with a flat belly first, then black ink on pale skin, meandering over pronounced muscles and distracting to a point where it takes Jäger several seconds to notice the dark metal. Jesus Christ. His shaft twitches in his fingers the moment he realises Bandit’s nipples are pierced and he watches, thunderstruck, as Bandit licks over the pad of his thumb and begins playing with one of the rings, his grin never once fading.

Holy hell. This is -

“Don’t fucking stop. You’re supposed to entertain me.” With a barely suppressed moan, Jäger resumes his strokes, drinks in the lithe body lounging in front of him and tries to picture the scene from outside – him in this ridiculous outfit, wanking to a half naked Bandit teasing himself. His eyes are drawn to Bandit’s crotch and find what they’re looking for, the outline of his boner visible even through the jeans and when he sees it strain upwards, he inhales sharply. “You want me to join you?”, Bandit questions him calmly and this time, Jäger gives a direct answer, nods eagerly and bites his lip when Bandit’s unoccupied hand starts unbuttoning his jeans. Excitement rises in him because even if he might not get to touch it, at least he’s going to see his dick and file the image away for later, for when he can ‘borrow’ the jacket maybe or find out where he buys his aftershave. He’s not obsessing about this. He’s not.

When Bandit pulls his erection out, Jäger’s first reaction is a bit underwhelming because hey, it’s a cock, very similar to his own, nothing he hasn’t seen before, only then his mind catches up that it’s Bandit’s and it’s in this state only because of him. Heat rises in him at this realisation and he subconsciously mirrors Bandit’s movements, slides his hand from the tip to the base a few times before going for shorter, faster motions which steal his breath away – though not nearly as much as the sight in front of him. He gets it now, gets the appeal of making someone else pleasure themselves. His eyes are glued to Bandit’s erect cock, to the wet head just as much as the long fingers massaging it, working the shaft, and yes. He likes this. It’s mutual, incredibly hot and relatively tame despite his costume. If this is all he’ll have to do, he’s more than fine with it.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much”, Bandit pants, slightly shaken and not unaffected which intensifies the rush Jäger gets from all of this, “how about you put the ass in masturbate and finger yourself a bit?”

Well. So much for that. He halts for the nth time but is too far gone to stop touching himself entirely, strokes over the sensitive spot right below the head and moans involuntarily when he sees Bandit doing the same. “Can’t I just – ah – keep going like this?”

“Sluts don’t get to come from their dicks, sweetheart. Lube is in the drawer.”

When Jäger utters a breathy laugh at the blunt statement, Bandit’s serious façade crumbles and makes way for a short-lived genuine smile which usually shows when Jäger actually managed to amuse him and also destroys the illusion of a power imbalance momentarily. “I can’t do it the other way though”, he says as he crawls to the other side of the bed only to balk at the variety of items in Bandit’s bedside table. The skirt is brushing over his tip and he’s well aware of the view which he’s presenting to Bandit – butt raised in his direction – and yet can’t find the energy to care.

“So you’ve tried before?” Bandit sounds intrigued again and when Jäger shoots him a look and an affirmative though hesitant nod, the smile is gone, replaced by a fiery gaze and an expectant smirk. “How many can you fit in? Three? No, no, don’t take the panties off, just push them down and let me see.”

Jäger knows what he’s asking for and the thought causes all the embarrassment to return which vanished upon Bandit starting to jerk off as well. Uncertainly, he drags the underwear over his hips and shows his backside to his teammate, shuffle closer to the edge of the bed per Bandit’s instructions until his feet are dangling over it. He can only imagine what he must look like right now – basically offering himself, skirt riding up and barely covering his ass, white blouse flattering his narrow waist and thigh-high socks adorning his legs. The feeling of depravity returns once more because it’s a shameful pose, no matter how easily he relented. Without giving it too much thought, he flips the cap open and pours some lube into his hand, coats his fingers and reaches behind him.

“Just imagine it’s my fingers”, Bandit speaks up, voice thick. He seems to be enjoying himself if his laboured breathing is any indication, and so Jäger wastes no time and gingerly pushes one finger into himself, relaxes into it and tries to ignore his pose, him on his hands and knees just for Bandit. It helps to picture his object of desire behind him, pretend it’s him slowly working Jäger open, getting him ready for -

When he adds the second finger, his arm gives in and he buries his face in the blanket to muffle his moan because now he’s thinking of Bandit taking him again, the idea flighty and vague in his head yet oh so tempting. Bandit would claim him, show no mercy, lose himself and it’d be incredible. He can hear more rustling behind him, Bandit probably shuffling around on his seat, but the blood rushing in his ears is louder. It’s rare enough that he does this, breaches himself for the sake of mind-blowing pleasure, and now he’s showing it to Bandit of all people, his gaze setting him ablaze, mind running wild with hopeful thoughts.

“That’s right. Reach all the way inside. You look fucking amazing like this.” Jäger stifles another moan at the low rumble of Bandit’s voice and concentrates on the odd feeling his fingers are causing, not unpleasant but strange nonetheless. He hasn’t fully gotten used to it yet but inserts a third finger tentatively, stretches himself and feels his dick twitch in response. “You’re so eager. Do you do this often? Fantasise it’s my cock instead? I didn’t know you wanted me this badly, you little slut, you’d probably be happy choking on my dick, too.” Jäger is biting his lip once again, the words getting to him more than he’d like to admit. He feels like putty in Bandit’s hands, probably would obey his every order right now, especially if he were allowed to suck him off despite never have done so before. He’d find a way.

And then a hand comes down on his ass, hard. He jumps at the loud smack and it’s the shock more than actual hurt which causes it – Bandit is standing right behind him but Jäger can’t see because his face is still in the sheets and it’s the second time Bandit catches him unaware. “Take your fingers out”, he orders and Jäger does, slowly, leaves behind an odd, empty feeling, made even more vulnerable due to the fact that Bandit is this close now, can inspect it directly. “Do you want this instead?”

Before Jäger can ask, there’s something touching his backside, touching his hole and it’s blunt and hot and holy fucking Christ. It’s finally happening. He’s frozen, focuses on the silky smooth feel of Bandit’s shaft slowly rubbing up and down over his ring of muscle and has trouble breathing, clenches his fists, tries and fails not to tremble. “Huh? I can’t hear you. Do you want me to stick it in?” Jäger is tongue tied with how much he wants it, pushes against Bandit’s dick and is rewarded with another sharp slap to his ass which has him shy away. “As long as you don’t have a cock in your mouth, you can answer.”

Bandit leans over him for a moment and the next thing Jäger knows is an insistent tug at his throat, threatening to cut off his air and so he rises the more Bandit pulls on his tie, has it wrapped around one hand and drags Jäger so far up that he’s on his knees and fingertips now, wobbling unsteadily and eyes wide in alarm. He can still breathe shallowly and it doesn’t hurt but he doesn’t want to test his limits. “Marius, my dear friend and part-time slut, do you want me to fuck you right now or not?” Bandit sounds amused, as if he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Yes”, Jäger whispers and sucks air in through his teeth when he feels Bandit’s thick head breaching him straightaway. His belly flutters and his mouth falls open at the intrusion, his ring of muscle pulsing around the shaft yet welcoming it easily due to the thorough preparation, and it’s – he feels it in his throat, every centimetre is like a landslide, fills him to the brim and makes him wonder how it’s possible for him to accommodate this much. He’s being complemented, becoming one with Bandit and despite the circumstances, it’s painfully intimate and causes a fuzzy, warm feeling to rise up in him. The pressure around his neck disappears once Bandit is buried fully in him and he sinks back down, pants against the sheets and experimentally squeezes around Bandit’s cock, relishes the sensation of it throbbing this deep. It feels even better than he thought it would.

“Fuck”, Bandit hoarsely voices all that Jäger can think right now as well, “oh fuck. You’re so tight. Oh my God.” Hands come to rest on Jäger’s hips, thumbs brushing over his lower back and Bandit withdraws, pushes back in and Jäger is lost to the world. It’s so different to anything he’s felt before, a much more fundamental pleasure, and he has to give himself up for it, trust Bandit to take care of him. His eyes fall shut and his toes curl during the next thrusts, still gentle, tentative, but then Bandit grabs the waistband of his skirt and starts dragging him to meet his movements as Jäger moans helplessly. Bandit’s earlier words come to mind for some reason – and right now, he admittedly does feel pretty slutty.

None of his wank fantasies could’ve held up to the real thing, it’s an odd mix of deliberate and wild, he’s being flooded with sensations yet they’re predictable to a certain point, reassuring and deeply satisfying. He rocks back into Bandit and his senses are being overloaded with intense lust, forcing moans out of his throat and making his thighs shiver – every thrust hits something inside him which makes him see stars, pushes him into the mattress as he just lies there and allows Bandit to take him apart without even considering touching himself. His dick is worryingly stiff and leaking copious amounts of precum, he’s never just dripped like this and yet it feels too good to end it this soon.

Curiosity and the need for a deeper connection win over his embarrassment and he props himself up on his lower arms, twists around so he can look at Bandit and has the sneaking suspicion he ends up gazing at him so lovingly and devotedly he must look like a newly deflowered virgin. He certainly still feels that fluttery thing in his stomach which probably also shows on his face, but Bandit doesn’t seem to mind his longing expression because he just flashes him an affectionate smile and starts petting him. Without interrupting his hard thrusts, he strokes over Jäger’s back, softly drags his nails over his scalp in a soothing gesture and brushes over his side before telling him: “You look so pretty like this.”

You too, Jäger thinks, flattered, and savours the view of all the intricate tattoos up close for a moment before a spike of pleasure makes him whine. Bandit’s eyes darken and he speeds up, reaches around Jäger’s body to jerk him to completion but slows down when Jäger asks him to wait. “Can we -”, he stops when Bandit bottoms out and has to take a deep breath before being able to continue, “- I want to… let me look at you.”

And Bandit returns his gaze, both fond and disarmed, before sighing and pulling out, making both of them groan. “Alright. Lie down.” He pats Jäger’s ass and removes the lacy underwear, crawls between his legs once Jäger has made himself comfortable on his back. Only now does he notice Bandit is actually wearing a condom, something which he didn’t feel before, and not for the first time is his mouth faster than his brain.

“Do you want to take that off?”

Bandit laughs in disbelief and scoots closer. “Are you fucking serious?” He slides back into Jäger and, once again, it’s entirely new since now they’re looking at each other, much closer than before and Jäger can’t help but feel up Bandit’s chest, trace the ink with his fingertips and pull lightly on one of the nipple rings while wrapping his legs around Bandit’s waist, barely taking notice of the long socks. “Looks like you really are a slut, you take my cock so willingly, you’re basically drawing me in yourself. How does it feel?” He thrusts deep and Jäger moans in response, arches his back and grips Bandit’s thighs. “Hm? How does my cock feel?”

He’s starting to get light-headed from the intensity of it, from finally being this close to Bandit, hearing him moan now and then, his features contorting in pleasure – he’s painfully attractive and simply looking at him sates a hunger inside Jäger of which he wasn’t aware previously. “It feels fucking amazing”, he replies quietly because it does but also because the smile he gets in return is blinding. He’s grinding against Bandit now, moving one of his hands to his own crotch to finish with Bandit fucking him what started as him being all alone.

“Yeah? You like it?”, Bandit wants to know and grins, satisfied, when Jäger just nods. “You look so cute, you know, like you can’t get enough. Maybe I’ll dress you up properly next time and fuck you so hard your mascara smudges.” For a moment, the image is in Jäger’s mind, him bouncing on Bandit’s dick in the same outfit as right now, nails and lips painted the same shade, and – and no, he can’t do that. He shakes his head slightly even as his hand speeds up, his muscles tensing. He realises with sudden clarity that he’s close, that he’s going to come with Bandit’s cock deep inside and Bandit looking down at him almost proudly and it’s all he ever wanted, even if he’s wearing a goddamn skirt. Every one of Bandit’s thrusts rock his whole body and he looks down to where they’re connected, can watch the shaft entering him over and over again and it feels so incredibly good.

“I’m gonna come”, he whispers and moans when his words earn him a brutal thrust which hits all the right spots, his hand tightening. “Oh fuck, Dom, I’m gonna -”

“Do it.”

And after Bandit has slammed into him a few more times, Jäger gets pushed over the edge, finally tips over into the promised land of sweet relief. Warmth spreads from his midsection, rushes down all the way into his toes, forces the air out of his lungs and has him curl up in bliss, disbelieving sounds falling from his lips as his dick pulses and spurts thick semen all over his clothes. It’s pure ecstasy, much more extreme than any orgasm he’s ever had before, shakes him to his core and leaves him quivering. Waves of pleasure muddle his brain so that he barely notices the gentle hand pushing his hair back and brushing over his eyebrows as he shudders and clamps down on Bandit’s erection.

While he coasts on the afterglow, slowly relaxing, loosening the death grip of his legs around Bandit and sinking back into the pillows, Bandit continues his affectionate ministrations, strokes his cheek, touches his parted lips, caresses his exposed throat and then massages his chest, digs his fingertips into his muscles and helps ground him, soothes his exhausted body. He stopped moving when Jäger came, displaying an impressive amount of patience and when he manages to open his eyes again, Bandit is regarding him almost victoriously. “Felt good?”, he asks.

Jäger just nods, still stunned, and when Bandit smiles yet again, he just – pulls him down and kisses him. Despite everything, they’ve barely touched the entire time so he’s starving for closer contact now, stretches towards Bandit and hums when he reciprocates, toys with his tongue and admits to himself that alright, maybe he does have a slight crush, but so what? Sure, maybe the target of his infatuation just made him wear this ludicrous costume and insists on calling him a slut but no one’s perfect, right? He’ll easily forgive Bandit everything as long as he won’t stop snogging him like this, thorough and filthy. Since Bandit hasn’t come yet, he pulls him in with his legs, rocks against him and moans into his mouth when Bandit understands and picks up where he left off, drives into Jäger and gasps when he clenches around him.

They never stop kissing until Bandit reaches his orgasm as well, one moment Jäger is sucking on his lower lip with abandon and the next Bandit tenses up and pants and groans against his neck, sheaths himself fully in Jäger and climaxes as well, body trembling under Jäger’s palms and cock throbbing. The sensation is addicting and part of Jäger wishes he’d gone bareback. Just so he can strike it off his bucket list, of course. For a few wonderful moments, it’s quiet, both of them concentrating on their breathing, Jäger basking in Bandit’s body heat, and then Bandit withdraws to tie off the condom and carelessly throw it to the floor. They look at each other, a little lost, and Jäger’s arms feel oddly empty all of a sudden.

“Can I take this off now?”, he eventually wants to know and Bandit chuckles.

“Sure. I’ll have to wash it anyway, you jizzed all over it.”

“I might regret the question”, Jäger responds as he’s unbuttoning the blouse, “but I just need to know: why do you own a schoolgirl outfit?”

“There’s a perfectly normal explanation. It was supposed to be Jackal’s Halloween costume but it was a little too short, so he gave it to me. I honestly didn’t think you’d be so into it, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Jäger echoes and throws the second sock onto the floor. They look at each other again. “Are you going to delete the photos now?”

“Are you kidding? You jerking off in my jacket is the single hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, there’s no way I’m deleting anything. But there’s also no way I’m showing anyone else. That shit stays with me. It’s mine now.” Oh. Alright. If he puts it like that, Jäger supposes he’s fine with it. Mostly. It’d be even better if Bandit wrapped around him again but that’s probably asking too much – they’re done with each other now, it’s like a finished transaction. Both of them got out of it what they wanted. Right? “What were you listening to, actually?”

Jäger opens his mouth but Bandit is faster, snatches the player still attached to the headphones which were discarded on the bed and scrolls through the playlist. The more he sees, the higher his eyebrows rise. “This is all – you always complain when I put any of this on. Do you even like this music? Man, you really must have it bad for me, eh?”

It’s a joke. Both of them know it’s a joke and yet he can’t bring himself to laugh, can’t even pretend to find it funny and so he stays dead silent. Bandit fixes him with a level stare. “You’re fucking with me.”

There’s nothing he can say. He has no defence and so he remains mute.

Bandit lowers the music player and blinks at him, his expression unreadable. “I need a smoke”, he announces and gets up, probably flees and Jäger can’t blame him. After all, this is coming out of nowhere and there was no indication this meant anything. Despite the way they beamed at each other. Despite all the kisses. Just as suddenly, Bandit changes his mind and sits down again, drags Jäger closer and manhandles him onto his lap, embracing him and hissing: “Fuck. You goddamn idiot. Fucking talk to me. How did you think wanking in my bed would help you in any way?”

“I just -” He doesn’t know. In a weak attempt at being funny, he offers: “I mean, it kinda did.”

A huffed laugh and then Bandit is locking lips with him again and this time, both of them are fully aware of what it means. Jäger smiles into it, holds on to him and kisses back contentedly, satisfied with just staying like this for a few minutes, the warm, fluttering feeling returning to his stomach. “I didn’t know”, Bandit murmurs eventually and Jäger shakes his head gently.

“I didn’t tell you.”

“Does this mean I can officially call you my slut now?”

Jäger snorts and jabs him in the ribs. “Absolutely not.” Then, all of a sudden, a different thought occurs to him: “Did Jackal give you the panties as well?”

And, with a wide grin, Bandit says: “No, don’t worry. Those are just my own.”

#rainbow six siege #bandit #jäger #bandit/jäger #fanfic #oneshot #I hope you like it and I wish you all the best!!#also kapcan I've not given up just been busy with this #expect a retaliation later today

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