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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

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The Island | KTH (Two)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: swearing

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni

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You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.

It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.

You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.

So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.

But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.

You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Why would I look at you?”

“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.

“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.

“I’m going to my room now.”

“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.

“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.

Yeah, maybe you are a brat.

~~~~~~

You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.

The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…

“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”

“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.

“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”

You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.

“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”

You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.

“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”

Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.

“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.

You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?

You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?

“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?

“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.

You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.

You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.

You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.

You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.

“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.

“With what?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”

“You want me to kill a spider for you?”

“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”

You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.

“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.

“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.

“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”

Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.

“It was just here, I swear.”

You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.

“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.

“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”

“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.

“Uh, yes?”

“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, nah.”

“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”

“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”

“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”

“How is that even fair?”

“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”

Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”

You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.

“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.

“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.

“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.

Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.

Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.

“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”

Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.

“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.

“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”

“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.

~~~~~~

You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.

Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.

Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.

“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”

“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”

“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.

“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.

“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.

“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,

“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”

Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.

“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”

“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”

“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”

“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”

“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”

“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”

Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.

“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.

“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”

“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.

“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.

“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”

“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”

“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.

“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.

“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”

“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”

“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”

“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.

“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”

Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!

Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.

“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”

“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.

“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.

“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.

Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.

~~~~~~

Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.

He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.

He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.

He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?

He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.

Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.

“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.

They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.

“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.

“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”

Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.

“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.

“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.

“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”

The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.

“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.

“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.

Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.

“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.

“What about us?”

Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.

“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out.

“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.

“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.

“But what?”

“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.

“I would love to. We can—”

“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.

“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.

“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”

Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.

He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.

Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?

He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.

~~~~~

Month: 1

It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.

Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.

You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—

“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.

“This better be important.” He huffs out.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.

“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.

“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.

“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”

Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?

“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.

You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.

“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What game y/n?”

You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”

Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.

“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.

“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.

“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”

“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.

You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.

“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.

“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.

“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.

“Oh…okay.”

“Listen…it’s not you—”

“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”

“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.

“I’ll be in my room—”

“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.

“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.

“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.

You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.

“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”

“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.

“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.

“It does make me feel better actually.”

“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”

“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”

“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”

“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.

“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”

“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”

“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”

“Cooking is so we can eat.”

“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.

“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.

“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.

You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.

“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.

“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”

“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.

“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.

“Just clean it off me!”

“You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”

“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.

“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.

“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”

“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”

You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.

“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”

Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.

“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”

“Uh, actually this was your idea.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.

“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.

“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.

“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.

“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”

“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”

Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.

“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.

“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.

You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.

“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”

You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.

“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.

“There.” You say, “All done.”

“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.

“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”

“They say you’re a smart ass.”

~~~~~~

“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.

“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you

“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”

“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.

“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”

“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.

“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.

“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”

“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”

“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”

“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.

“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”

“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.

“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”

You tilt your head up and chuckle,

“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.

“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.

You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.

You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.

You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.

After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.

“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.

“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”

“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”

You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?

“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.

“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”

Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.

“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.

“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.

“What?” you ask.

“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”

You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.

“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”

“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”

“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”

“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”

~~~~~~~~

The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.

It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.

You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.

You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.

You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.

You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.

“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.

You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.

“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”

“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”

“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”

“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.

He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.

“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”

“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”

“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.

“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.

“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”

You frown at that, “Why crazy?”

“Ugh, you know how women can get.”

You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”

You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.

“Different how?”

“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”

The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.

Why do you have to think of him?

After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.

Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.

“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”

You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.

“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.

“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”

“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”

“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.

“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.

“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.

“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.

“Why not?”

“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”

“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.

“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.

You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?

~~~~~~

Month: 2

“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.

Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.

You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.

“What did you do?”

“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.

“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”

“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.

You look at him incredulously.

“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.

“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.

Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.

Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.

“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”

#bts #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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britishassistant · 4 years ago

Note

Crowley kid! Yuu gets kidnapped by one of the villain dorms and Crowley is touring the the lair and just come across his kid, just chilling their designated chair snacking and roasting the villains, maybe joking around with the minions a bit and then they see each other and it’s like that Spider-Man pointing meme

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

This kiiinda got away from me a bit, but I thought it would be good since this blog has now reached over 200 followers! Whoo! Thank you all for your support!!

Crowley was just popping by to see how Leviathan’s operation was running.

He liked to do this kind of thing, show up when the supervillains competing for his attention least expected (or appreciated) it and demand they show him how their operations were running. The reactions and sights he got to see where always so much more honest than what a prearranged visit could offer him.

Take Leviathan-kun, for instance.

The young man is uncommonly nervous in Crowley’s presence, not quite stuttering, but clearly not far off from it either. He keeps adjusting his glasses minutely, making the light flash off them even as he rattles out his salesman’s spiel of guarantees and flattery.

The thieving corvid inside Crowley preens. Today was an excellent day for a surprise inspection.

There’s clearly something going on right now that Leviathan was desperate to hide from him, which just makes Crowley want to dig deep and uncover whatever this dirty little secret is and drag that wriggling, struggling weakness into the light.

Great Seven, he loves his job.

It doesn’t take long for him to ferret it out—as desperate as Leviathan is to redirect his attention the loyal minions moving like schools of fish through the lower levels of the lair, he doesn’t have the authority to do anything but totter after Crowley as he strides towards the control room of this fine establishment, his cane clicking against the ground with every step.

Great Seven, he loves his job.

There’s the raised voices of Leviathan’s lieutenants emanating from within, along with...someone else?

Crowley pauses, taking in the scene inside.

There is a person is tied to a chair in the center of the room with one of the Leeches hanging sideways off of their lap, arms wrapped around their shoulders as he leans backwards and swings his legs back and forth. The chair is beginning to teeter dangerously.

“Floyd, if you make us fall again, I’m suing you for damages.” A familiar voice quips.

Crowley’s insides go cold.

“Aha! So mean~ I’d never let you get hurt, Shrimpy~” The reckless and violent twin coos, nuzzling close.

“You already did.” The most kidnapped reporter in this city deadpans. “Twice.”

“Bold of you to assume that you’d be able to press charges in the first place, Yuu-san.” The sadistic and coldblooded twin grins.

“Azul likes me better than you two, he’ll represent me if I sell him my kidneys.” Yuu says loftily. “Plus I have witnesses, like that guy...there...”

Well, that’s ruined his dramatic entrance, but Crowley slams open the doors anyway, making his cloak billow and letting those leeches see the angry flash of his eyes.

“A-hem!” He booms. “What exactly do you think you’re doing? Is this how you think professional villains behave?!”

The sadistic twin stands to attention, bowing shallowly to him, as though that will keep Crowley from noticing how he’s moved in front of the hostage and his violent brother, who’s curled over Yuu with his feet planted firmly on the ground and is cocky enough to think baring his teeth at Crowley is somehow a good idea.

“Floyd.” Leviathan’s voice is clipped, moving towards his henchman and the captive. “My deepest apologies on behalf of my staff, sir. I’ll instruct them to take the prisoner back down to the holding cells to continue the inter—”

“No, you will not.” Crowley commands, swirling towards the aquatic supervillain. “You will release them from your custody immediately, and as I am so gracious, I will be sure to educate all of you about how violating personal boundaries—”

“Oh, come off it, you old crow.” Yuu drawls, one eyebrow twitching. “Don’t start pretending like you care now.”

The sadistic brother makes a small, choked noise. Leviathan has gone so still it’s doubtful he’s even breathing. Even the violent twin is staring at the reporter like they’ve grown a second head.

He clears his throat to hide the small sting in his chest at the remark. “W-why I don’t know whatever you are talking about, stranger I have never met before. I will arrange for an escort to guide you home, as I am so gracious.”

The reporter scoffs. “Well, isn’t that just the story of my life. I told you last time, I don’t want any of your goons within ten blocks of my apartment, remember?”

“Yuu, while I always appreciate your sparkling wit, please stop talking.” Leviathan mutters, eyes focused on Crowley. “Are you aware of just who this person is?”

“Who he is? Of course I know who he is.” Yuu’s exasperation is evident in their voice. “He’s my bio dad.”

Crowley bristles, feeling his feathers puff up in alarm. “Hatchling!!”

Leviathan chokes, wheezing for air as he gasps out, “Bio—what—?”

The sadistic Leech brother is visibly startled, whipping his head back and forth between Crowley and Yuu, lips moving too fast to read though no sound comes out.

“Eeeh~? The big scary boss man is Shrimpy’s dad? No waay~” The violent Leech brother jabs a thumb in his direction. “Who would fuck him?”

“HOW DARE YOU—!”

“Nobody.” Yuu says. “I was born via in vitro fertilization.”

“Hatchling~!” Crowley whines, disliking how wrong-footed his child leaves him. “That is hardly kind!”

Yuu lets out an undignified snort. “Sure, because that compares to dumping me back on Uncle Divvy after a week out of the test tube with instructions to leave me under a bridge somewhere.”

Both Leech twins pin him with equally unnerving stares, and Crowley has to remind himself that he is three times the villain they’ll ever be, that they couldn’t actually hurt him even if they did both attack at once.

Leviathan is just leaning against his desk, mouthing “Uncle Divvy” to himself with the sort of frquency usually reserved for those afflicted by Divus’ hysteria gas.

“We talked about that!” Crowley pleads desperately. “It was to make sure that you could grow strong through adversity! I could hardly expect you to take up my position if you grew up soft and dependent, now could I?”

“Babies are soft and dependent, that’s the whole point. I’d have been dead within the week if Uncle Divvy hadn’t given me to Mom and Dad.” Yuu sighs, slumping back into the chair. “Whatever. I’m never taking over from you and I don’t want any of your money. Can I go home now?”

“I’ll arrange for a car as I am so gracious—” Crowley states firmly at the same time as Leviathan interjects with “Ah, let me take you—”

He shoots a poisonous glare at the young upstart, and then at the unprofessional lackey who’s still clinging to his child.

“No thanks, to both of you.” Yuu sighs. “I’ll just call Yuuken to pick me up—”

“Eeeh?! But Shrimpy, he’s so lame and boring!” The twin in Yuu’s lap whines. “I can’t even squeeze him properly!”

“Yeah, that’s not really a negative here.” The reporter quips, putting up with the way the merman whines and nuzzles into their shoulder, teeth dangerously close to their jugular.

“I don’t like him.” Crowley sniffs. “He’s too good an influence on you.”

“Well, guess whose business that is?!” His offspring asks cheerily, before dropping back into their irritated moue. “Not yours. I’ll spend time with whoever I please, you can go suck an e—”

“I’ve called you a cab, Yuu-san.” The sadistic Leech brother pipes up, pulling his phone away from his ear. “It’s already paid for, so please don’t worry about it.”

The reporter frowns again, before shaking their head with a tired sigh. “Thank you. I need to go sleep off a migraine, so untie me and I’ll see you three next week or something.”

Leviathan moves forward to tug swiftly at the ropes pinning their arms behind their back and pulling his henchmen off of them, finally. “Let me escort you out at least. It wouldn’t do to have any more unpleasant surprises before you got home.”

“Fine.” Yuu pins Crowley with that look that always makes him want to squirm. “Have a lovely day, Dire Crowley-san.”

“Likewise.” He watches his heir walk out as the violent Leech twin calls out “Bye bye, Shrimpy~!”

He turns to those two upstarts, drawing himself up to his full height. “I am certain I don’t need to impress upon you the fact that none of what went on in here leaves this room, yes?”

The sadistic one meets his eye for a moment, spreading his hands wide with an unpleasant smile. “I am unsure of what you mean, Crowley-sama.”

“Yeah, dunno~” The violent one chirps from where he’s now perched in the recently vacated chair.

“Well, suffice it to say that Divus came up with a very interesting potion to affect merfolk, some years ago.” Crowley allows himself a cruel smirk. “One that gives them legs permanently. Shame it doesn’t do the same for lungs. I will not tell him how...carelessly you boys have been treating one of his most prized experiments, as I am gracious, am I not?”

He watches the pair of them swallow reflexively with a thrill of dark satisfaction. “Yes, Crowley-sama.” They chorus.

“Wonderful!” Crowley chirps, clasping his hands together. “Now, I think it’s time for a special lesson on respecting the personal boundaries of one’s hostages, don’t you?”

#ask #twisted wonderland #twst #supervillain au #dire crowley #twst crowley #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #leviathan #jade leech #twst jade #floyd leech #twst floyd #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #yuu takes none of crowley’s shit #azul x yuu #jade x yuu #floyd x yuu

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years ago

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sugar sugar - the planning 4.0

Summary: The two of them are coming back from their bachelor/bachelorette parties

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Sex, blowjob, squirting

Wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Their wedding is coming closer!

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter //

April 3rd 1 a.m.

This night seemed never ending, but it was kinda funny nonetheless. Seeing Genevieve live out her Magic Mike fantasy, made me turn into the Regina George’s mom of Mean Girls and film her as two attractive oiled up men were grinding up against her, while Viola kept screeching out of sheer awkwardness.

With a smile on my face, I walk into the apartment, only to discover an absolutely parched Henry on the couch. He takes a sip out of a water bottle, which is a rare sight. When he is drained like this, he usually needs a whiskey to feel better. ‘What happened to you?’ I ask, causing him to look up.

‘They pulled me into a strip club,’ Henry answers, his eyes tired and followed by a deep sigh.

They as in Greg, Noah, Gino and Peter. This must’ve been Genevieve planning the entire thing. ‘Me too,’ I chuckle. ‘Just so you know, your bare ass has my preference.’ I kick off my heels and straddle his thick thighs, before wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘You look like you’ve seen multiple ghosts over the course of the night. It couldn’t possibly be that terrible.’

Henry starts to laugh. ‘It was. I don’t think I have ever been this uncomfortable. I absolutely despised that place.’

‘Why?’ I ask him, undoing his tie a bit.

‘I had no idea they would take me there,’ he says. ‘And don’t get me wrong, those women were beautiful and good at their job, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you. It felt like borderline cheating to me.’

I don’t think I ever have to worry about Henry being unfaithful to me. Such a sweetheart. He continues to talk about the perverted types sitting there and how one guy even started to help himself a little, but because he is so busy talking, he barely notices I’m unbuttoning the top of his shirt, before taking off my thin cardigan, revealing only a light blue crop top.

Only when he finally manages to tear his gaze from the ceiling, he stops talking. ‘Oh,’ he says, leaning forward to press a kiss on my cheek. ‘This I like.’

‘I knew it,’ I say. ‘I’m the only one you want.’

‘Of course,’ he scoffs. ‘Why on earth would I want someone else?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Just be honest with me. Didn’t it turn you on even a little? I mean, you told me yourself they were beautiful.’

‘Yeah, they were, but they didn’t turn me on,’ he says. ‘I mean, years ago it maybe would’ve, but now, you are the only one that can turn me on. Nobody and nothing beats your body, your kisses and your whimpers.’ He kisses my lips. ‘I love you and only you.’

‘Hm,’ I say with a smile. ‘I am probably the luckiest woman on the planet. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you were turned on a little.’

‘Were you?’

I shake my head. ‘Oh no, I barely had time for that. I mean, besides filming Genevieve having the time of her life, I just admired certain dance moves. Damn, do those men know how to move those hips.’ I run my fingers through his hair. ‘And I know I said it before, but I’ll say it again: your ass is my absolute favorite and I prefer your hairy chest over those smooth oiled up ones I saw there.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Good thing your body is my favorite as well. No one can meet up to the standards you set.’

‘You’re so cute,’ I say to him with a chuckle. ‘Especially because you’ve spend an entire night at a strip club and now is the time where you grow a little excited.’

‘Teasing me, baby girl?’ he chuckles darkly, giving me a long kiss.

‘Maybe a little, it’s just that it’s the best way for you to give me a compliment.’ I step off his lap, before I unzip his fly. ‘Just relax, okay?’

‘Oh, sweetheart, I’m already relaxed,’ he says.

I sit on my knees in front of the couch, before I pull down his pants. He leans back, after he holds my hairs in his hand. I let my tongue run over his tip and he groans softly. The grip on my hair tightens and I look up, meeting his eyes, his teeth sunk in his bottom lip.

Deciding I’m not gonna tease him too long (he has had a long night), I slowly take more and more of him in my mouth. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, but thanks to the many secret blowjobs underneath his desk, my gag reflex is becoming less of a reflex now. He softly forces me down a little further and I let out a moan. The vibrations cause him to buck up his hips, leaving me to slightly gag on him.

‘Oh, shit baby, I’m sorry,’ he says.

I look up, drool dripping down my chin. ‘It’s okay, honey.’

‘Oh, it’s honey now?’ he asks cocking his eyebrow. ‘We’re not in public, so you better call me something else.’

I smile. ‘I’m sorry, daddy.’ My thighs are pushed against each other, as the heat gathers in my thong. Hearing him like this, feeling him bucking up his hips and the slight pulling on my hair. It does things to me.

When I release him with a pop, he softly pulls me up by my hair, before he presses a sloppy kiss on my lips. ‘Take off your clothes, baby girl,’ he says.

I quickly shred myself from the blue crop top that didn’t need a bra and the matching short. When my thong hits the floor, Henry grabs me by my waist, squeezing the soft flesh. ‘I love you,’ he whispers. ‘In around three weeks we’re married and you’re officially my wife.’

I can’t stop my faint blush. ‘We’re gonna get married,’ I say. ‘I can’t wait.’

He hoists me up and says: ‘Me neither.’ I expect him to take this to the bedroom, but he is too damn impatient, because he bends me over the back of the couch. Without a lot of preparation, he slides deep inside of me.

I try to gain some sort of stance, but my toes are barely touching the floor. He tightly grabs onto my hips. I push the palms of my hands in the cushions of the couch to hold myself up, as Henry rams himself roughly back inside of me. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning out loud, but it earns me a harsh slap on my butt.

‘I need to hear you, baby girl,’ he grunts.

A strangled moan leaves my lips, before it’s followed by many loud moans that fill the living room. ‘Daddy, I’m close,’ I whine and I really wished I hadn’t said that, because he pulls out, leaving me nearly begging for more.

‘I know you’re gonna make a mess,’ he says, ‘since you always do so.’ He pulls me up and smiles. ‘We don’t want to ruin the couch, right?’

I shake my head. ‘No, we don’t.’

He carries me to the kitchen counter, placing me on the cold granite. He buries his member into my throbbing center, holding my chin in between his fingers. ‘So fucking beautiful,’ he mumbles. His thumb runs over my bottom lip, before he pulls me in a deep kiss. I open my mouth, our tongues so familiar with one another.

As his tip kisses my cervix every single time he thrusts in, it nearly forces a whiney moan out of me. He always goes deep, but it’s different this time. It feels so so different. ‘Daddy, you’re so deep.’

He smiles. ‘I know that, baby girl. You like that, don’t you?’

I nod, feeling myself flutter around him. ‘Can I cum?’ I ask, digging my nails in his shoulders.

‘Of course, baby.’

I throw my head back, as I squirt around him, indeed making such a mess. He knows me too well. As I ride out my high, Henry buries his face in my neck, sucking on the delicate skin there. I cry out, sensitivity taking over and my nails marking his back. He grunts as he paints my velvet walls from the inside, his fingers tips digging deep in my legs.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whimper, as insecurity takes over. ‘Daddy, I’m so sorry.’

‘What’s wrong, baby?’ he asks. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I made such a mess.’ My legs are sticky, I know his legs are too and let’s just not say anything about the walls of the kitchen island.

‘Have I ever complained about that before?’ Henry asks with a cocked eyebrow.

I shake my head. ‘No.’

He cradles my face in his hands and whispers: ‘Then don’t you worry about it, okay?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I chuckle nervously. ‘I’ll try.’

Henry cocks his head, taking in every feature of my face. ‘Something’s bothering you?’ he asks me.

Maybe a little. ‘Not necessarily,’ I whisper.

‘You want to talk about it?’

I bite my lip. ‘It’s stupid.’

‘You could never say something stupid,’ he says. ‘How about a bath?’

‘Sounds good.’

✤ ✤ ✤

With my back against Henry’s chest, I stare at the ceiling in the bathroom. We’re engulfed in warm water and he finally asks: ‘So, what’s going inside your head, baby girl?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘the other day it kinda hit me that… When you and I get married, there is a possibility for a divorce. You can exchange me for anyone you want.’

He wraps his arms around my upper body, pulling me closer to him. ‘And why would I do that?’

‘I don’t know. An opportunity?’

He gives me a kiss on top of my head. ‘I love you and only you, mrs Becky Cavill. I am not spending a lot of money on a wedding I know will fail. Heck, I wouldn’t even proposed to you if I wasn’t this serious about you.’

I sigh deeply, realizing worrying about this was absolutely nonsense. ‘I don’t even know what I was worried about.’

‘Just tell me these things, okay?’ Henry says. ‘I wanna be there for you.’

‘I promise,’ I say with a smile. ‘I promise.’

April 24th 9 p.m.

Tomorrow we’re getting married and these last few weeks have been kinda hectic. My dad is officially divorced, lives in a lovely house downtown and has yet to decorate his place, but with the wedding coming up and him actively wanting to help out, that just has to wait.

Genevieve and Viola never met my parents, but they are sure as hell absolutely mad about my dad. They continue to call him: ‘cute as a button’ and I almost feel like he is our dad, instead of just mine. Without the wedding band and my mom next to him, I realize that my dad is actually such a nice guy. We get along really well and he is dead set on improving our relationship, just like I am.

While I did suggest he’d walk me down the aisle, he found himself not worthy of it and though I told him he was, I still respect that decision.

We’re at our destination for our wedding. We chose Maui, Hawaii for a few reasons. One, the weather is great and two, my friends, Henry’s friends and my dad are gonna stay for a little vacation there, while Henry and I go to our private island to start our honeymoon.

I honestly couldn’t be more excited. Henry and I took all sorts of measurements, checking the venue, seeing if everything is alright and then, tomorrow: we’re gonna be husband and wife.

Henry has been reading his vows for at least fifteen minutes now, when he finally folds the paper and places it on the book that we’re taking with us tomorrow.

Leave it to Henry to book the most expensive room in the entire hotel, with a view to die for. My dad had his eyes on a little place, one he had been eyeing for so long. Henry arranged it for him, even making sure he had access to the pool and a taxi.

‘Baby,’ he whispers, when he wraps his arms around my waist. ‘How about a little love making? Last time before we’re husband and wife.’

‘Henry, we had sex today,’ I chuckle. ‘Aren’t you ever tired of me?’

‘No, never.’

I turn around in his arms and say: ‘I’d like to be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow.’

‘That’s why I said a little love making.’

‘How about you and I enjoy the jacuzzi?’ I suggest. ‘I’ll be naked.’

Within ten minutes we’re all set and done in the jacuzzi and I straddle his lap, before taking a sip of my wine. ‘So, when you and I are back from our honeymoon, what do you want to do?’ I ask.

‘I want to travel to some places with you,’ he says. ‘Go look for a new place for the two of us to live in. Get you pregnant.’

I snort. ‘Oh, how romantic.’

‘What?’ He starts to laugh. ‘I mean, it’s the goal eventually right?’

‘We could adopt a dog from the shelter,’ I say, ‘get a little practice in. I mean, a dog and a baby are not comparable, but still.’

‘I’d love that.’ He pulls me closer to him and gives me a kiss. ‘I’m just gonna say it now, but expect to hear this many many times. I can’t wait for you to be pregnant.’

I smile. ‘And why is that?’ I ask him. ‘So I’m even more helpless and you have to do more for me?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, because we made a baby together and are gonna have a family of our own. I mean, how amazing is it that we’re gonna be the Cavills, right?’

I squeal. ‘Oh my, that is so amazing. I cannot wait for that to happen either. I’m tempted to quit my birth control right now.’

‘What is stopping you?’

‘Well, I want to have a little bit more childless time with you,’ I say. ‘Just you and me, traveling the world.’

‘Sounds good, baby girl.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #henry cavill x becky kim #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #asian ofc #becky kim

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adonis-koo · 4 years ago

Text

to the moon and back

Summary: Sometimes the distance in relationships really does make a strain and sometimes...it can really make quite the experience, at least in your experience with your boyfriend who only lives half way across the world...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, theres like,,,implied Taehyung/Reader if you really squint

Genre: angst, smut,

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: long distance relationship that I accidentally projected way too much of my own personal experience into 😃, Jungkook just really loves MC, skype sex, I am sorry, mutual masturbation, a little praise kink, Jungkook says baby in korean a lot and once again I am sorry, sex toys, a lil overstim, nothing too crazy tbh, dirty talk, dom!jungkook and sub!MC 🤑

Note: I missed ldr!Jungkook and MC which is based off this sorta imagine I did for them! So I cured it by writing a lil bit about them!! :)

“Hey Jungkook…”

The said man in question suddenly perked up from where he had been looking down, half his hair tied up and he was rubbing his eyes, he looked tired these days and sometimes you couldn’t help but feel bad. Long distance relationships weren’t always what they were cracked up to be and it wasn’t like you were intentionally looking for a ball and chain at the time...

But well, it was a long night, you were slightly drunk and in a long dry spell so you thought, what the hell? When you signed up for a sub/dom dating website. Again, your intentions weren’t to actually date someone, you were just slightly drunk and horny, and waking up the morning after your phone had been blown up by your now boyfriend. It was innocent at first, you both had a good laugh (to somewhat of your embarrassment) about the whole drunk thing and you were just curious to get to know him.

It was from there you had learned he lived halfway across the planet in South Korea and not only this but when you began exchanging photos he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever seen. One thing led to another and eventually you both decided to make it official.

You were used to this of course, you had never actually met him in person and sometimes you felt a little apprehensive to do so, you knew it would hurt Jungkook severely if he ever found out but still...sometimes it felt like you just didn’t know him as much as you wanted too.

Time zones were a literal hell, by the time you woke up he was getting ready to sleep and most the time texts weren’t sent until the next day, video calls were rare and usually had to wait until the weekend. It sucked.

Jungkook, if anything, had been trying to convince you to at least fly out to see him, he even offered to pay for your ticket as he was- ahem- apparently in the chain of business for a really well known exports corporation and was a supervisor so he lived very well off in comparison to yourself, who was still in college and buried in debt with little to no money left outside of the expenses of living.

But again, you were just...nervous...flying by yourself, to a country you had never been too, to meet a man you had never met...You knew realistically everything would be fine, Jungkook was exactly who he said he was, he wasn’t some criminal that was going to murder you and sell your body parts on the black market but…! You just wanted to be safe! To be careful even if that would never happen.

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed, it was a late saturday night for him but he always stayed up just for you, just to be able to talk to you, to see your face, even if you went hours not talking to one another while he worked and you studied. He told you he just enjoyed looking over at his monitor and seeing you.

Currently you had been curled up on your pillow scrolling on your phone and occasionally admiring your boyfriend’s side profile and strands of hair long hair that fell from his face, “Why did you learn English?”

Jungkook raised his brow a little before suddenly laughing causing you to shift a little in embarrassment feeling as though you had said something dumb, “Well,” He rasped a little, he had been brushing up on his english ever since you started dating but he was also a little self conscious of his accent despite you saying several times over how much you adored it, “English is mandatory to learn in school but I learned extensively due to my family traveling a lot for business and work. I once spent a whole year in New York when my father was employed overseas, that was actually how I became so fluent, classes are fine but experience always teaches best in my opinion....” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smile as he hummed once more, “Which means your studies in Korean would be easier if you visited…”

Flustered you rolled onto your back as you pressed your pillow against your face, “Jungkook…!” You whined wiggling in your best as you heard his laugh filter through the speaker, “I need you know I really need to stay and study for my finals, it makes up for over forty percent of my grade!”

“Not even for winter break?” Jungkook let his lips jut into a pout as he laid his chin against his hand, “Jagi I have a bed that’s way too big to sleep in all by myself, are you gonna make me downgrade?” He sighed dramatically as he fell back in his computer chair pulling his hair tie out as his hair fell at his cheeks as he began to fix it.

You ignored the heat immediately flushing between your legs at the deep rasp of his voice, “My mom’s expecting me to come home to visit for the holidays Koo…” You frowned as you peeped out from behind your pillow to find the massive pout on your boyfriend's face as he sunk in his seat.

“Sometimes I think you’re just embarrassed to tell people we’re in a relationship,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat up in his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he sulked, obviously trying not to let your rejection make him upset but even through a screen you could always read his moods, sometimes too easily.

“That is not true!” Your voice was immediately serious as you sat up, fixing your laptop as you set it in front of you, Jungkook was once more slouched in his seat, his hand resting on his cheek as he looked away from the screen, “That is not true Jungkook, I-...” You sighed, “I can’t just drop all my responsibilities here to visit you, you know this, you know hard I’ve been studying for finals and how much my family has been wanting to see me…”

Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment but you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a scoff escape his lips, “But you still haven’t told your family...have you?”

“I haven’t had the chance…” You were immediately trying to defend your reasoning when deep down you felt bad that well...he was right...to a degree, but what were you supposed to tell you family? You met your boyfriend on an offshoot website based around sexual play and not only this but he lived half way around the world.

“You talk to your mom on the phone weekly Y/n,” The longer Jungkook looked away from the screen the more upset he was getting and you could tell and yet you felt so helpless, it wasn’t like you could just reach over and grab his face, or simply hug him and apologize. Once again, you found yourself at a loss of what to do or say.

It wasn’t that you wished you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d never in your life change that night, but sometimes you wished things weren’t so complicated and that your fears wouldn’t get the best of you. And you did speak some truth, even if you weren’t nervous to meet Jungkook in person, it didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go now with finals approaching and your family expecting you for the holidays.

“I’m just,” Jungkook inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh, “I just feel so frustrated sometimes, I want to be with you, not part time, half time, or only at night. I want to wake up with you in my arms every single day. And I can’t do that, hell I can’t even get a phone call during the week let alone a text at the same time of day if I’m lucky. We just had a work party where everyone brought their partners and I couldn’t bring mine because she lives in America.”

His upset was beginning to make you upset, it felt like your gut was being grinded and it wrenched in an unpleasant feeling as you spoke, “Look I’m sorry okay? I can’t help it that this is where I live, I understand you want to be with me, you don’t think I want the same thing?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you swallowed harshly, “But right now, I can’t help it Jungkook. The holidays just aren’t a good time right now…”

“Then what was the excuse during the end of the summer when you weren’t even in school and your parents didn’t want to see you?” Jungkook replied, his jaw clenched and hurt in his eyes as he questioned you, “Or was it still because you were sick in the middle of july?”

“I just met you!” You cried out now beginning to feel genuinely hurt at your boyfriend questioning the sincerity of your feelings, “I wasn’t going to fly out to Korea to meet someone I had only been talking to for three weeks! Jungkook this is-”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you! God, that is literally the last thing on my mind right now! I’m embarrassed at the way we met, I’m embarrassed that I- I somehow have to explain to my family that my boyfriend lives in South Korea and that I’ve never met him and somehow explain to them that you aren’t some serial rapist or human trafficker out to sell my kidney! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to hear! And I’m sorry I just haven’t been ready to deal with that!” You couldn’t even stop the tears from flowing down your face as you pressed your hands to your eyes, “It’s easy for you to talk about us because you’re an adult who lives debt free by himself in his own apartment with your own secure job and you don’t have to answer or deal with anyone, even your own parents! That’s not how it is for me Jungkook.”

Your head was lowered as you tried to muffle your sobs that was the only thing that filled the loud silence that filtered the air, running your hands through your hair as you took a breath. You could hear a sigh on the other side before Jungkook spoke, “Y/n…”

“You know what,” You sniffled as you straightened up, “I’m not in the mood to talk anymore,”

“Y/n! No! Jagi listen-”

“No I’m done!” You argued back as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoody, “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Goodnight.” You clicked the end call button before closing down your laptop. Sitting now, staring at your distinct reflection on the black screen before bursting into a new set of tears.

Your phone’s ringtone was immediately set off as you sobbed, picking it up as you harshly punched the decline call button before it quickly popped back up on the screen only for you to press it even more vehemently. Your phone lit up several times being flooded with messages from Jungkook trying to convince you to talk to him but you immediately turned off your phone as you collapsed back against your bed, weeping against your pillow as you tried to ignore the pure hurt that filtered your veins despite it being justified.

God you shouldn’t have even said any of that to Jungkook! Really it was your fault you hadn’t seen him, you had made excuses all because you were just scared. He was probably going to break up with you now...Squeezing your pillow tight you closed your eyes as you muffled your sobs.

“Girl why are you staring at your phone?” Lisa sighed in exasperation, “Don’t tell me…Oh shit…” She sighed as she watched your eyes begin to pitfully water, “What was it this time?”

“I’m a horrible person be-because I can’t just fucking suck it up and tell my family about my boyfriend and- and I can’t just go visit him!” You were already wiping your eyes despite not even crying yet and you refused to ruin your mascara in a public store. The bookstore was quiet as ever and the barista who worked the cafe was still sorting magazines out on the rack not even paying attention to you both but still you had to keep up your ideals or else you’d be crying all the time.

“You are not a horrible person oh my god!” Lisa raised her brows before scoffing, she pointed a long acrylic nail at you as she spoke, “That boy needs to calm his hormones, you are strapped for the rest of the holidays. Y/n! Come on, seriously you need to draw some boundaries with him! Just be honest and it’s going to save you both a lot of trouble.”

You sunk in your seat as your lips began to tremble making Lisa sigh, “How many messages did he send this time?”

“Twenty four.” You mumbled.

“Jesus Christ.” Lisa groaned as she pressed her hand against her forehead, her bangs which had been melded together with hairspray not even moving an inch, “What even started this fight!?”

Lisa was not only your closest friend but most times she was also your voice of reason which you knew was most times right but still you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you twirled your straw that poked through the lid of your iced coffee, “Well it was innocent at first, I just asked him why he learned English when he was younger and it translated into him saying experience taught him best which meant going to Korea would help me with my own language studies.”

“Why can’t you just be honest with him!? Seriously! Y/n!” She gave you her premium disappointed look as you whined, kicking your feet as you covered your hands over your face knowing she was right, but!

“That would literally crush him!” You replied feeling defeated as you slumped in your seat once more, sighing as sadness filled you, “It feels like…” You poked your tongue into your cheek as you exhaled in frustration, “No matter how hard I try, I just always end up hurting him. Jungkook would be so hurt if he knew my main reason for not wanting to see him.”

Lisa raised her brows as she scoffed, “No he would not! If he’s so desperate to jump on your pussy he’ll come to America and not only meet you but he’ll be meeting me as well the first time. This relationship is a two way street Y/n-”

“He has a whole team he’s managing Lisa, he’s told me he’d visit if he could schedule the time off but-”

“All I hear is an excuse,” Lisa clacked her tongue, “Fair is fair, you’re just being cautious as anyone should be when they’re talking to someone over the internet,” She curved a brow before snorting as she sipped her drink, “Now listen, do I think he’s a kidnapper that’s gonna kill you? No. Do I think he’s a fuckboy that just really wants to smash you? Maybe, it’s your relationship. Do what you want but regardless of whether your reasoning is legit he should respect it regardless.”

You deflated as you sighed, scrolling through his messages where he had profusely apologized several times and went on to explain that he just really wanted to be with you and never meant to dismiss your feelings on the matter. You hadn’t replied yet which made you feel even worse but truthfully, you just really wanted to talk to see him tonight on a video call and talk things over.

“Anyways, it’s time to boss up bitch,” Lisa pulled out the three textbooks from her bag before dropping them on the table as she offered a smile, “We got finals to prep for, we’re in the two week countdown so we need to cram as much as possible.”

Sighing you glanced down at your phone one last time before turning it off knowing the temptation to look over Jungkook’s messages would be too tempting. Putting your phone away you pulled out your notebook along with your own textbooks as you nodded, “You’re right, it’ll at least take my mind off of it…”

You could only hope.

You had spent the last ten minutes trying to gas yourself up, Jungkook had stopped texting around lunch time having obviously given up and giving you space as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and he knew if he just gave you time you’d eventually reach out to him.

Like right now, except you felt severely embarrassed for your actions this morning and you knew you could have handled things in a better and more mature way then you had, regardless you were struggling to even send a text at the moment let alone video call him...Checking the clock on your phone you sighed, it was already 1pm in Seoul....

Jungkook if anything was probably on his computer sulking while playing video games as he usually did on his weekends off when he wasn’t talking to you. Sucking in a breath you knew you needed to talk to him now because if you didn’t you’d have to go the whole week with stale texts that never went over well and you weren’t working with much to begin with, you didn’t want to make it worse. Sighing, you sat down on your bed as you began to type.

[10:25]

‘I’m sorry I haven’t replied to any of your messages :( can you video right now?’

You chewed on your lip anxiety immediately spiking in your head as you wondered if you came across too much like a victim...Or maybe you should’ve just not mentioned the not replying to his messages and just asked if-

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the skype call sounding with Jungkook’s name under it, grabbing your chest you collapsed onto the bed as you made yourself comfortable, shying away from the camera as you grabbed your pillow in insecurity before accepting the call.

“I really am sorry Jagi,” You couldn’t even open your mouth before Jungkook’s worried expression showed up on your laptop, the hoodie covering his head and just as you expected his puppy like eyes were glossed and filled with sadness, “I- I didn’t realize how much stress you were under and I shouldn’t have been so careless. This is the only time during the week that I get to see you and I really don’t want to argue…”

You curled up against your pillow as you mumbled, “I should be the one apologizing, I know how much it means to you for us to be able to see each other in person and I need to make the time for us to be able to do that it’s just…” You had meant to tell him the truth but- “I just have a lot going on right now but I didn’t mean to take that out on you, I know you just want us to be together...”

“Oh jagiya,” Jungkook sighed, longing filled his face and his fingers twitched a little as they ran through his hair as if wishing he could just hold you close to him, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t want the whole week to drag by without being able to talk to you, you know you always make my day better…”

And just like that your chest blossomed with warmth as you curled up, hiding the smile that began to creep on your lips as you squeezed your pillow, “Not as much as you make my day. Especially when you send those tease pictures for me right before I need to go to bed.” You would never get enough of that addictive feeling of talking to Jungkook, his smile was always infectious.

And just like that you watch, just like every other time, in amazement at the way Jungkook’s personality switches like a light, the innocent sweet smile that was once on his lips is suddenly twisted into a cocky smirk and he leans back his chair, his long hair is slightly messy but just enough to make him look truly wicked, “Oh? Is that right gongjunim? I thought you’d appreciate it?”

Said photo in question was sent thursday night when you were prepping for bed and Jungkook had very obviously just gotten out of the shower in the mirror selfie he had sent that displayed the chiseled abdomen and broad chest and not to mention the….ahem package he was sporting beneath the thin towel that he had purposely clutched with his free hand.

Yeah...that nearly destroyed your right hand.

“Well I did…” You immediately coiled up, no matter how many times this happens with your boyfriend- which is nearly every weekend, you always end up getting shy despite your thighs furiously pressing together and wetness building up in your panties, “Maybe a little too much…”

Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as his smirk widened, just his stare made you press your face into the pillow as you heard his chuckle, “What? What did you do?”

The fact that he skipped to the golden question made you whine as you kicked your feet, you could hear another laugh from him as you curled up once more, “You know…” You mumbled, feeling your face burn as you pressed it against the pillow.

“No baby I don’t.” Jungkook pouted but his voice rasped and something about saying baby in english with that accent of his had your fingers twitching as he puffed a breath of air in cockiness as he hummed, “Why don’t you tell me hm?”

Shifting against the bed you shook your head, “You know what I’m talking about…”

“Do I?” Jungkook challenged as he raised a brow, his beginning to clench as he slipped into his dominant headspace, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he asked, “If you can’t use your words would you rather show me? Be a good girl and show me, yeah?”

Your words were muffled as you replied, “I had help…” Your face felt like it was practically on fire as you rubbed your legs together as you heard him laugh, “Then be a good girl and go get it jagiya, I’ll still be here.” You gave Jungkook a good laugh as you nearly scrambled out of bed to get your bullet vibrator off it’s charger before diving back on the bed making your laptop bounce as you sat up right.

Jungkook meanwhile had pulled off his sweatshirt and repositioned his camera to expose his lower body, the familiar sight of his plump cherry lips exposed in that forever tainted smirk as he made himself comfortable in his chair, his thighs spreading apart and the indent in his sweats showing off proudly, “Good girl kitty, now I want you to take off your clothes, all of it.”

You wiggled in your comfy sweatshirt feeling a little shy as you began to shed your clothes, “The bra too baby,” Jungkook coaxed as he licked his lips, his cock tightening and becoming harder at the sight of your flustered, shy expression as you unhooked your bra, there was nothing more this man wanted then to suckle on your nipples that immediately hardened against the chilled air of the room.

Jungkook’s hand found its way to his bulge as he palmed himself through his grey sweats, “Panties too baby, I know you’re shy but you need to be a good girl and take them off. And remember your words.” He added with a low growl.

“...Yes sir.” You mumbled, feeling chilly and exposed to nothing more then the camera on your laptop and Jungkook of course before you pulled off the panties you wore, arousal sticking to the fabric that stringed before you tossed them aside, your eyes unable to stay off his hand that kept stroking his bulge.

“Good girl,” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, “Now spread your legs jagiya and show me what you did to that photo I sent you, every little detail baby.” You whined as you looked away from the camera, “Jagiya…” Jungkook’s voice deepened a little in warning, “Are you gonna make me get out the controller?”

Outwardly you’d completely deny that but inwardly....The idea nearly had you frothing out the mouth, but reluctantly you did as he asked, the chilled air nipping at your exposed warm wet folds had your levels of arousal that much higher and you could hear a soft verbal moan from Jungkook as he squeezed his hand over his cock, “Shibal,” He muttered a few other words in korean that you could only half make out before he spoke once more, “You’re so fucking wet baby. Play with yourself, don’t make me wait.”

Tenderly you slipped your hand between your thighs, flinching a little at the cold that seeped from your fingers that met in opposition to the heat radiating off your cunt, arousal met your fingertips as you dragged them up you slit before rubbing slow circles around your clit, your lips parting a little at the idea of it being his fingers doing this to you.

Jungkook let out a little scoffed laugh, licking his lips as he pulled down his sweats just enough to free his throbbing cock, a sight you’d never fully get used too and had your mouth watering at just the sight. He was much thicker then he was long but he certainly wasn’t short, the vein on the underside of his cock displayed and you could even see his tip beginning to weep as it became red, “How bad do you wish those were my fingers playing with that little clit baby? Put those fingers inside your cunt baby,lay back and use your toy to make yourself feel good for me.

Situating your laptop before you laidback, opening your legs once more as you began to transition to your subspace as you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers dragging up your inner thighs.

Letting your eyes open you whined at the sight of lube slipping from his cock as his hand slowly pumped his shaft, his lips parted at the sight of one finger slipping inside your cunt before pulling out and adding a second finger. You could just imagine those long thick fingers filling you up while fitting up against your g-spot.

Fumbling with your vibrator you turned it on, switching the setting to a low pattern before carefully placing it on your aching bud. You had anticipated your reaction just as you did everytime and yet every time you still jolted, your walls tightly squeezing around your fingers as a whined squeak escaped your lips.

“Fuck princess that’s it,” Jungkook edged you on, his tongue in his cheek as his hand squeezed around his cock before he used his free hand to grab his own toy, the fleshlight that nearly always turned you into a mess, “Bet that little hole can hardly fit your own fingers let alone my big fat cock, right baby? Yeah?”

Your thighs were twitching as pleasure was rapidly buzzing against your clit and your walls kept squeezing around your fingers as you desperately tried to reach to your g-spot in need for an orgarsm to make up for all the anxiety and stress you had been under the whole day, “Yes! Yes sir! Ah- Mmph need you! Fuck, please! Sir.” You whimpered as your hips jolted to fuck back against your fingers.

Jungkook pushes the opening of the flashlight over his tip as he let out a soft moan, his hips fluidly began thrusting to the point your walls were so tight you could hardly move your fingers just at the idea of his cock forcing its way inside you, you just knew this mans stroke game was good and proved it every fucking time he took out that toy.

Watching his cock disappear with every thrust inside his toy as his lips parted a little wider this time, “You want this baby? You wish this was your pussy I’m fucking nice and deep?”

Your body was too excited for all of his dirty talk as you squirmed shifting the buzzing vibrator to the sweet spot of your clit as you squeaked, trying to keep yourself from being too loud as your roommate was home, “Want it! Want it so fucking bad! Please sir! Sir!”

You were embarrassingly horny and this made worked you up every single time, your hips we’re stumbled and your walls were rapidly clenching in excitement as his thick cock rocking it’s way in and out of the toy that you could just imagine was your pussy he was fucking nice and slow, making you feel his nice fat cock with every killer slow thrust.

“Oh Jagiya,” Jungkook moaned out, “Don’t tell me my kitten is already close?” He chuckled as he watched the way your body withered the way it always did when you were close, his eyes feasting on the way your pussy was stretched so delicately against your small fingers and the way your thighs clenched and your feet kicked, “Do you need to cum so soon?”

“Please! Please! Sir! I- I don’t think I can-“ Your thighs clamped together as your lips fell open, unable to even wait for his blessing as your orgasm ripped through your body, your toes curling as little whimpers escaped you, you could hear a long moan from Jungkook as you liddedly watched his hips stumble against his flesh light, hand running through his hair while he fumbled something in Korean.

“Baby fuuck,” Jungkook’s voice lowered as he moaned, “Cum again princess, cum for me baby I wanna hear you make those noises again for me. Keep those little fingers stuffed inside yourself.” Jungkook’s hips kept stuttering against his toy, his cock throbbing desperate as his moans became breathy at the sight of you obeying him. You were always such a good girl.

Your fingers were aching but your desire to watch him come undone was even greater as you began pushing your fingers back against your g-spot once more, feathery whines escaping you at the feeling of pain beginning to mix with pleasure at the consistent thrum of the vibrator against your clit.

“Ah! S-sir…!” You whimpered quietly as your walls suddenly clamped around your fingers once more, “I- ah! I don’t think I can…!”

“Yes you can,” Jungkook growled his hips bucking up into his toys faster his cock throbbing and squeezing in pleasure at the sight of your arousal slipping from your soaked cunt and the sight of your tits bouncing at the way your body kept squirming, he could only imagine what it would be like fucking you tied up and left to his mercy, “And you will,” He snapped with command, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me again princess. I wasn’t fucking asking.”

Your legs immediately twitched and your breath hitched as you cried out, your back arching at the way your body listened to him so easily on command, your walls tightening around your fingers rapidly and pleasure seered into your clit as the orgasm roughly filled your body, “Ah Jungkook! Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Fuck! Ooh!” Moans escaped you louder then you intended as your hips desperately fucked into your fingers to ride the powerful orgasm you experienced.

Jungkook moaned softly as his hips bucked one last time into his toy before cum was filling it up at the idea of milking all of himself in your little warm cunt, letting his hips swivel as he milked every last drop of cum from his cock as he moaned before relaxing back in his chair.

Chuckling a little at watching your lower body scramble at your vibrator continuing to drill against your over stimulated clit as you struggled to turn it off, “Take your fingers out baby, I wanna see them.” Jungkook licked his lips as you obeyed him, pulling your fingers from your cunt to reveal the thick layer of arousal and cum on them nearly making Jungkook’s mouth water with the desire to lick every drop off your fingers, this man couldn’t even describe what he’d do to go down on you.

“Ah fuck, jagiya,” Jungkook laughed, a little flustered at the way you sat up, looking directly into the camera before putting your fingers in your mouth, licking off the salty and somewhat musky taste of your arousal which in your opinion wasn’t that great and Jungkook would never accept your opinion on the matter, “You’re gonna make me hard all over again.” He whined as he carefully pulled the toy off his cock, feeling the white substance already rolling down his softening shaft to reveal the mess he had made.

You giggled a little, feeling shy once more as you stood up with wobbling legs, “I don’t have to help with that.” You called out, grabbing your favorite sweatshirt to pull over your body. It was your favorite because...Well because Jungkook had sent it to you and because it was big on him it was massive on you.

You absolutely adored it, coming back in view you collapsed onto your bed as you curled up, Jungkook had just finished cleaning himself up, fixing his camera for you to see the beautiful radiant smile and eyes light up that was your boyfriend. He always had that dreamy look in his eyes while looking at you everytime you finished having Skype sex and everytime it always made you shy as you grabbed your pillow and curled up.

“You’re always so fucking good baby,” He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, his smile permanently on his face as he stared in adoration at your curled up figure that was practically buried in his sweatshirt, “Mmm you were such a good girl too, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when I told you to cum again.”

He had a boyish laugh at the way you curled up, “Stoop! You know I was already overstimulated, you better hope my roommate didn’t hear anything…!” You covered your face in embarrassment at the realization you were a little loud.

Jungkook’s face stiffened a little at the mention of your roommate before he tried to play it off with a small laugh, “Yeah well, what’s he gonna do about it anyways? You were just being my good little girl jagiya.” You covered your face in semi embarrassment. You knew Jungkook was redirecting the conversation back to verbal aftercare because you knew he didn’t like the fact that your roommate was a guy who was not only your age but also very attractive.

It wasn’t like Taehyung was ever interested in you, but you had mentioned to Jungkook when you first started talking that you used to have a crush on him. You felt as though some days that still lingered in Jungkook’s mind despite the fact that you didn’t even look at Taehyung twice anymore.

Especially since you and Jungkook became an item, however you also hadn’t told Jungkook that Taehyung had been...Well you weren’t sure what he was doing to be honest outside a few innuendos and winks. It mainly weirded you out as he had never paid any attention to you but regardless. This wasn’t about your roommate, this was about your amazing, handsome boyfriend who somehow managed to make you cum twice just by the sound of his voice, not everything could do that.

“You make it difficult to try and disobey.” You mumbled as a smile tugged in your lips, closing your eyes at the idea of his arms wrapped tight around you and his forehead pressed against your own, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face and his lips pressing against your forehead.

“Mmm id like to see you try,” Jungkook laughed as he leaned back his seat, letting out a content sigh as he spoke, “I’d make you wear those vibrating panties the whole day after making you overestimate yourself and I’d make sure to wake up every hour just to hold that button for three minutes straight.”

“You’re so mean!” You whines as you fluttered your feet before crawling under your covers as you yawned, “You’re already planning a punishment when I haven’t even done anything wrong.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook laughed as he objected, moving his hair from his face, “I’m just telling you what would’ve happened if you weren’t obedient. I mean, that’s not always a bad thing baby.” He sent a wink your way that immediately made your cheeks warm as you pressed your face against the blanket with a giggle.

“I can’t do that over a video call…! Maybe if you were here in my bed I’d be a little more defiant.” You always had a hard time trying to flirt confidently but Jungkook always ate it up every single time you threw him a crumb.

“Jagiya if you can’t be defiant over a call what makes you think you’d manage it when I’m between your legs sucking the soul out of your pussy?” Jungkook was immediately cackling at the way you shoved your face into your pillow with a whine, “Exactly baby, you can’t even look at me right now.” He cooed out.

“Well maybe I’m just a little more bold in person.” You challenged, peeping out from behind your pillow making Jungkook chuckle as he shook his head, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well sweetheart I’ll just have to see for myself one day huh?” Jungkook’s smile was so beautiful, it was arguably one of your favorite features as he spoke, “You know I love you to the moon and back jagiya.”

“Well I love you love you to the stars and beyond,” You whispered back as you hugged your pillow close, closing your eyes sleepily as you smiled….One day...Hopefully you’d overcome your anxiety soon to make the one day become soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand being apart from the one person who would never stop making your day.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #ldr!jungkook

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elisaphoenix13 · 3 years ago

Text

Bonding With Clay

Tony woke with a soft groan and rolled onto his side to throw his arm around Stephen and buried his nose in the back of his neck. He even hooked a leg over Stephen's and ground his hips against his ass until the younger man hugged and swatted back at him.

"Tony, no. There's a child in our bed and I have to go to Kamar-taj today." Stephen mumbles.

Tony cracks his eyes open and lifts his head to look over Stephen and sighs when he finds Valerie cocooned against the sorcerer. "Doesn't she have her own bed?"

"She had a nightmare."

"What about William?" Tony complains and Stephen chuckles.

"You know as well as I do that there are some things parents can do that siblings can't." The sorcerer pushes Tony's face away. "Go brush your teeth."

"Absolutely not. You have to suffer my morning breath now." Tony laughs and kisses Stephen. It only lasted a few seconds before the younger was pushing him away again with a look of disgust.

"I can even taste it!"

Tony laughs again and rolls back over to get out of bed and shuffle into their bathroom to brush his teeth. As he passed Lucy's crib, he found her wide awake and sitting up, patiently gnawing on her teething ring...which she fondly chucked at his head. It was her way of saying good morning and also her way of showing that she liked someone. Fortunately she only threw soft things at people. The more dangerous items were chucked at something random. Like the lab incident.

So he and Stephen considered themselves lucky. Of course they still tried to get her to stop, but she was stubborn like her parents. Lucy did what she wanted.

"Just a minute Lulu. I've been ordered to wash my mouth and you know how Mom is." Tony says and grabs his toothbrush. Lucy babbles in a way a baby might be offended and Tony looks into the bedroom to look at Stephen as he gets out of bed as well. "Y'hear that?"

"She always has something to say." Stephen scoffs as he fixes the blankets over Valerie. "It'll be you, Lucy, and Valerie today. The kids have school and classes, I have things to check on in Kamar-taj, and everyone else is busy."

Tony spits into the sink after rinsing and frowns. "I don't mind, but Val never seems to enjoy our time together."

"She's getting better." Stephen sighs.

It was true...for the most part. Valerie wasn't completely reliant on Stephen anymore ever since the twins came to live with them. She adored William, and of course she loved Tony, but she and her father had yet to find something to bond over. She loved reading and the piano like Stephen just like Lucy loved being in the lab with Tony. He would figure something out though. Maybe tough out sitting through The Little Mermaid for the fourteen hundredth time? That was Valerie's favorite movie.

"You taking the cloak?" Tony asks.

"Mmhmm." Stephen responds as he brushes his teeth.

"Athena?" Another noise of approval. "Right... we'll figure it out."

"Mmnnbbbftt!" Lucy babbles.

Tony leaves the bathroom and takes the baby out of her crib. "I heard you the first time, bossy."

"If that isn't evidence enough that she takes after you--" Stephen starts until Tony points at him.

"She could have just as easily gotten it from you Duchess."

Stephen chuckles and walks back over to the bed when Valerie sits up and rubs her eyes. While he got ready for the day and explained to the little girl that she would be spending the day with her father and sister, Tony got himself and Lucy ready for the day. His mind was already occupied with how he would spend the day with the girls since Valerie had no interest in the lab, and everything led to Disney movies and tea parties. Not that he had anything against either of those since he was used to it, but he had tried that before and Valerie just didn't seem as interested as she would usually be.

It sort of made him feel like a failure as a father. There had to be something they would enjoy doing together right? Hell, even Lucy enjoyed being run around by Thomas.

"What sounds good for breakfast topolina?" Tony asks as Valerie climbs down from the bed.

"Fwench toast."

Well, that was easy. "French toast it is." Tony says.

Stephen crouches in front of Valerie when he finishes getting dressed and brushes her hair back. "I'll be back later. Have fun with Daddy, okay?"

"Okay."

Stephen kisses her forehead and gets back up to grab his sling ring off the nightstand, and waits just long enough after opening a gateway to wait for Levi to fly into the room and hang on his shoulders. Then he and Athena were through the gateway and it closed behind him, leaving Valerie to stare forlornly at the space it had been. Tony gently pats her head before leading her out of the master bedroom.

"Where's Mooey? Why don't you go get him and you can help me with breakfast." Tony suggests.

"Can we have fwuit?" She asks softly.

"We sure can." Tony smiles. "We can even have some chocolate chips on our french toast if you want."

Valerie smiles and nods before skittering away to her room to find her stuffed cow. A smile from a promise if chocolate chips was a good start to their day, and he would make sure they had a fruit salad with all of her favorites. So with that thought in mind, he descends the stairs to the kitchen where he deposits Lucy into her high chair and answers her demands when she smacks her hands on her tray.

"You are your mother's daughter...but don't tell him I said that." Tony mumbles and searches through the cupboards for the baby cereal puffs. "Look at that! Apple cinnamon flavor, your favorite!"

He pulls out the container and opens it to pour a dozen pieces onto Lucy's tray and she immediately grabs one and pops it into her mouth, humming happily. Lucy would be fed some proper breakfast later, but the puffs would tide her over until he and Valerie cooked and ate their own food. When he started to grab all they would need to make breakfast, Valerie finally joined him with Mooey in one of her arms, and he grabbed a step stool for her to use.

He gave her the easier tasks such as cracking the eggs and putting some cinnamon in them before it was whisked, and while he cooked the french toast, she washed the fruit. Strawberries, grapes, bananas, and even some kiwi were thrown into a bowl after Tony helped her cut them into pieces, and Valerie carefully mixed them together before stepping down from the stool and carrying the bowl to the table. It was amazing how independent Valerie was already being in her own way. She loved helping any way she could and even got a little upset when something was beyond her capabilities. Like when Stephen got sick. She was able to help make him soup but not much else and hated that there wasn't more she could do to make her mommy feel better.

William had to distract her most of the time, and the other times he had to reassure her. Tony and Stephen didn't like the girls to go into their room if one of them were sick because they didn't want them to get sick too.

"Here we go. Piping hot toast with…" Tony makes a show of topping Valerie's french toast with a few chocolate chips and she giggles. "Chocolate chips as promised. Buon appetito."

"Tank you Daddy," Valerie says softly when he places the plate on the table in front of her. He cuts it up for her before kissing her temple and then gets his own plate before sitting across from her.

"Want syrup?" He asks and grabs the syrup dispenser he had filled with warm syrup and pours a little bit on her toast.

"Ba!" Lucy reaches out and Tony chuckles and puts a drop on his finger to stick in her mouth.

"There. Like it? You don't get anymore." Tony says as Lucy sucks on his finger.

Tony made quick work of his french toast and fruit so he could feed Lucy before she started to demand more syrup. He grabbed a jar of chicken and rice--which made him gag a little when he opened it-- and a spoon, then offered a spoonful to the infant. He really didn't understand how babies could like the meat purees. He didn't dare try it in case it tasted as bad as it smelled, and the vegetables weren't much better. Tony was seriously considering giving the task of feeding Lucy her meat and vegetables to the Avengers.

Or the boys if they misbehaved. He knew for a fact the smell hit Peter harder.

"All done." Valerie announces.

"Great job." Tony glances at her plate. "You sure polished your plate. Go ahead and go watch your movie while I finish feeding your sister."

"Kay."

Valerie gets down from her chair and grabs her plate, carrying it to the sink and carefully lifting it up to drop it in. She checked her hands to see if they needed to be washed, found them clean, and shuffled to the living room and asked Friday to put on her favorite movie. Tony smiled and finished feeding Lucy and cleaned her up before taking her to the playpen in the living room, and then returned to the kitchen to clean up the mess. With how quiet things were, Tony honestly would have forgotten that Valerie was even there. All he heard was the tv and Lucy...and the water running.

How Stephen and William remembered her when she was this quiet was nothing short of amazing, but the thought sounded terrible to him at the same time. He didn't forget about Valerie, not by a long shot, but if someone told him they came by and took her to do something, he would be inclined to believe them. But she was sitting on the couch with Mooey clutched in her arms when he finally finished cleaning up and sat on the couch next to her.

"So...I thought of an idea." Tony smiles when Valerie looks up at him.

"Idea?"

"Yup. I think Tibbs is around here somewhere and he's due for his next pedicure."

Valerie's eyes brighten and she giggles. "Dia and Cassie do that!"

"Well I think it's our turn."

The little girl hopped off the couch to go find the pet safe nail polish and Tony looked around for the cat. It didn't take long to find Tibbs dozing in a patch of sunlight on the floor and the feline protested with an annoyed meow when Tony scooped him up.

"I don't know why you bother throwing a fit." Tony snorts as he carries Tibbs back over to the coffee table where Valerie was already waiting. "What color is he getting today topolina?"

"Purple!"

Tony laughs. "Purple it is."

Once Tony sets Tibbs down, Valerie gently takes one of the cat's paws and carefully applies the polish to each nail. Tibbs, the ever chill cat, sat calmly after yawning and patiently let the little girl do his nails. He was more than used to letting the girls do stuff like this to him and knew eventually they would finish and let him go so Tony wasn't worried about him scratching. All the other animals got pedicures as well.

Even Emir.

"Tibbs gets tweats!" Valerie says after finishing.

"He sure does. You know where they are." Tony says and Valerie gets up to retrieve the cat treats.

She shook the bag as she returned from the lower cabinets in the kitchen, and Tony laughed when the cat's ears perked up. Tony helped his daughter open the bag and she grabbed a small handful which she held out and let Tibbs eat straight from her hand. While the cat purred contently, Tony glanced over at Lucy to find the baby fast asleep with her teething ring still in her mouth.

"Where's the Play-Doh Uncle Steve got you?" Tony asks and Valerie points towards her room. "Go get it. We'll make some sculptures."

"You too?" She asks.

"Me too. You can show me how to make flowers."

Once again, the little girl scurried away, leaving Tony with The Little Mermaid to fill the silence, but soon enough, Valerie came back with an armful of containers of Play-Doh. She sets them down on the coffee table before sitting on Tony's lap, and he smiles as she starts opening the containers and taking out the clay. They spent the next couple of hours shaping the clay into different things, from flowers to Tony's suits, until they were rudely interrupted by Lucy's teething ring. Specifically when it sailed into the air and hit the side of Tony's head.

"I'm guessing it's time for lunch." Tony snorts and lifts Valerie out of his lap, groaning as he gets up from the floor. "Daddy's getting too old for this."

"Burro di arachidi e gelatina?" Valerie requests.

"Yes ma'am. With milk." Tony says as he walks over to the playpen and picks up Lucy. He sniffs and grimaces. "After I change your sister."

Valerie wrinkles her nose. "Yucky."

"You said it. You finish your sculpture and then we can make lunch and watch a movie. Sound good?" Tony asks.

"Uh-huh."

Tony couldn't believe he was worried about this just this morning. He enjoyed playing with the clay with Valerie, and he was pretty sure she enjoyed herself too. He made a mental note to think of more things to do for the future days like this, with another side note to think of things that Lucy could eventually join in on. The baby was growing up fast and wouldn't be content to stay in the playpen forever.

"Phew." Tony reels back a little when he opens the baby's diaper once he gets her on the changing table in the master bathroom. "Are you taking lessons from Harley?"

#stephen strange #supremefamily #ironstrange #tony stark #mama bear stephen strange #valerie stark strange (oc)#lucy elina stark strange (oc)

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write-orflight · 4 years ago

Text

Galileo: Chapter 5

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Light smut, 18+

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.

A.N Unedited because i’m sleepy. There’s a fic I read when I first joined the fandom that inspired some of this chapter. i can’t remember the name but if you do, please tell me so I can credit. Comment on this chapter only or message to be on taglist please.

Chapter 5: Saturn

There was a rare occurrence that happens sometimes in Space where a Planet will tilt off its axis and disrupt the order of things in the galaxy forever. Even though it hasn’t happened yet, it doesn't make it not possible. You had always thought about that phenomenon and how you never quite understood how so many scientists just blindly believed in that possibility with no proof. It wasn’t until that dance with Spencer that you believed in it. If you were the galaxy, that dance was the tilt in your axis.

Nothing could quite be the same again.

It seemed that Spencer himself was the disruptor.

Since that day, everything between the two of you was different. It was simpler. It was too easy to have conversations, to laugh at each other's jokes, to spit inane useless facts at each other. But it also became too easy to melt at Spencer’s bright smile, too easy to stare at his hands as he helped you with your math sometimes, too easy to flush whenever he paid you a compliment on your work.

Too easy to fall in love with him.

You didn’t want to think about that but you couldn’t help it. At first, you wanted to chalk it up to you not knowing how to differentiate your feelings. Maybe you just thought you were in love with him because he was the first guy to be nice to you since Jonathan but as the days went on you knew that to not be the case. None of this felt like how you were with Jonathan. With Spencer, it just felt easy. Just felt right.

It was the weekend so you had off work. Before you would always end up going into work anyway and getting some extra logs in but now you liked staying in and hanging out with Spencer. Right now the two of you were walking in the plaza near your home, fresh cups of coffee in hand. Spencer, at first, did not want to be out but after some convincing (which was just you threatening to leave without him, which he did not like) he was all for joining you out. The two of you stopped in a bookstore and you made a beeline for the astrology section. You hear Spencer scoff when you pick up a book to look through it. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” You say.

“Astrology, really? Aren’t you a scientist?”

“Yea, an astronomer. I love Space, so while Astrology isn’t a proven science. It’s fun to think the stars have a say in what kinda person you are.” You shrug. “When’s your birthday?”

“October 28th.”

“Of course you’re a Scorpio.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Astrology isn’t real.”

“You must be real fun at parties.” You roll your eyes.

“Well, what’s your sign?”

“I’m a Cancer. Did you know that water signs are the most compatible? Especially Scorpios and Cancers.”

Spencer laughs out loud at that. You turn looking him in the eye. “What’s funny?” you say.

“That itself doesn’t tell you that astrology is bullshit?” He laughs. You narrow your eyes at him. “I mean, us, compatible? It’s funny.”

You try. You try so very hard not to look hurt by his words, you know Spencer’s a profiler and will see right through it. And he does by the sympathetic look he gives you.

“You’re right, maybe it is bullshit.” You say, putting the book down instantly. “Let’s go home.”

You and Spencer don’t talk the whole walk home, in fact you don’t talk when you get there. You’re about to just retreat to your room when you feel a hand circle your wrist.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I hurt your feelings.” He says.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” You lied. “I’m just with you all the time. Sometimes I just need a minute alone. Is that okay?”

He lets go of your wrist. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

You nod and retreat to your room, blowing a heavy breath as you fell into your bed. Might as well take a nap. You thought as you let sleep take you over.

-----------------------------------------------------

Long, slender fingers found their way into your hair and yanked roughly. You couldn’t help the soft whimper that came behind it. You felt the lips that were sucking hard bruising marks into your neck smirk slightly. His other hand trailed your body lightly until they met their final destination at your sex. You gasp loudly when the digit rubbed soft circles around your clit.

“Are you going to be good for me?” He asked, you nodded dumbly before moaning out loud when the first digit found its way inside you. Spencer smirked at you. “Look at you. I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet for me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asked, you nodded and gasped again as he found that spot inside you. “Hmm, I don’t think you want it enough baby.”

You’re shaking your head immediately. “No. Ple-please fuck me.” You stutter. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

The smirk he gives you is almost devilish. “Alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says as you feel member pressing up against your sex--

You wake up to the smell of something burning and Spencer shouting expletives from what you assumed was the kitchen. You groaned, frustratedly. Since that day your mom came to visit, you dreamed of Spencer almost constantly. Today was no different. You couldn’t escape him in your waking hours and now it seemed you couldn’t even escape him sleeping.

You hop out of bed and run to the kitchen. The sight before is Spencer frantically waving the billowing smoke that was coming from your oven. You run to open your window and turn the oven fan on. You both look at the pan that had something that couldn’t even be described as food anymore by the degree of which it was burned. Spencer looked at you guiltily.

“You seemed upset so I thought I’d make you dinner but I was reading and I lost track of time. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You smile at him. “Thank you for thinking of me but I wanted chinese tonight anyway, sound good?” You say, he nods gratefully.

Later the two of you are sitting at your kitchen table, eating chinese out of the takeaway containers. You were talking about nothing and everything until the topic came to College. You talked about how freshman year you did the whole partying thing before quickly finding out it wasn’t your scene and keeping to yourself for the rest of your college career. Spencer told you he never went to any parties in college.

“You never went to any parties?!” You asked, shocked.

“Well, I was 12. No one was really scrambling to invite me to frat parties.”

“So you didn’t do any traditional college games? No beer pong? No ‘Never Have I Ever’?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head. That’s when you get a fantastic idea. You get up and look in the cabinet above your stove which is where you kept your liquor and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. Spencer sees this and immediately shakes his head.

“No.”

“Aww, come on. Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” You smile. “If you’ve done the thing you drink.”

“I don’t want to play a remedial drinking game.”

You think for a second. “How about this? You’re a profiler, right? And I like to think I’m a little observant so how about this. We’ll take turns making assumptions about the other if the person is right, the other drinks and if they’re wrong, you drink.”

“I don’t know… it probably isn’t wise for me to be drinking. I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“It’s not like we go anywhere that’s not here anyway.” You say. “Plus, if you're good at your job, you’ll hardly have to drink.” You throw a pouty face on for good measure. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He says standing up and snatching the bottle from you, walking to the living room. You giggle at him before grabbing two glasses to follow him out. “Just so you know, it’s wrong to peer pressure people.” He says.

“Well, what’s a college drinking game without peer pressure.” You laugh.

-------------------------------------------------

“Who’s starting?” You say as you watch Spencer pour your glass. The two of you are settled on opposite ends of your small couch, facing each other, your knees just almost touching.

“You can.” Spencer says. “I want to see if you're actually observant.”

“Okay.” You say, sitting up slightly at the challenge. “You’re an only child.” You say. Spencer raises his eyebrows at you, shocked you actually got something right, but drinks anyway.

Spencer looks at you for a second. “You have an older sibling you are not close to.”

You drank. “Yea I’ve got an adoptive older brother. There’s nothing wrong, it’s just he was already much older when I was born and we have nothing in common, other than our parents.” You look at Spencer for a second. “I wanna say divorced parents, but only raised by one.”

“You’re a lot more observant than I thought.” Spencer says as he drinks. “Dad left when I was 10.” He says offhandedly.

The game goes like this for a while, both of you confirming your beliefs of each other. You find out about Spencer’s mother's illness, Spencer learning you smoke when you’re stressed. Spencer was winning though, not that you had a problem with that as you wanted to drink, hence why you suggested the game. You were giving him a little bit of a run for his money. It was now your turn and the alcohol in your system must’ve turned off your filter because you say.

“You’re a virgin.”

You pause for a second waiting for him to drink when you realize he’s waiting on you to. You widen your eyes in shock but take your drink anyway. “I thought Maeve died before you got to meet her fully.”

Spencer nods. “She did.” He says, “The two don’t correlate.” He says, like it's obvious.

You hadn’t been expecting that. “You just didn’t strike as the hit it and quit it type.”

“And I’m not, but sometimes things are just temporary.” He says looking at you, deeply in your eyes. “You were upset today, in the shop because I said we weren’t compatible.”

You solemnly take a drink. “Why?” He asks.

“Hey, that’s not a part of the game.” You say.

“Please?” He adds.

You sigh. “I don’t know… I guess, it seemed like the idea of being with me repulsed you. And that was upsetting.”

Spencer looks at you with the most intense look in his eye. You had never seen that look before and you were glad you hadn’t because it was so heated that it was melting you where you sat. “The idea of being with you…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “Doesn’t repulse me. Trust me.”

You knew you weren’t the best at social cues sometimes but that seemed like a pretty big one. You move closer to him, so that your faces were close but someone would still have to make that final move. You realize it’s your turn, so you think, Fuck it...

“You want to kiss me right now.” You say, looking Spencer in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow swig from his glass, eyes never leaving yours. He sits his glass down on the table next to him before saying.

“You want me to kiss you.”

You sip your drink, looking him right back in the eyes. You sit your glass down next to his and Spencer's hand catches your wrist on its way back. Before you can even get a good look at him, his lips are crashing on to yours. You groan in surprise before melting into it, your hands immediately going for his hair. His massive hands almost engulf your face as he tries to pull you impossibly close to him. He groans as he licks into your mouth, both of you tasting like the Jameson you had just drunk but there was also something under it that was just pure Spencer. You push him back until you are fully seated in his lap. His hands go immediately to your waist. Feeling risky, you experimentally grind your hips, causing Spencer to groan and grip you tighter. His hands slide up your shirt slightly, you moan at that.

“Fuck-” Spencer says as you suck bruises down his neck. “Fuck, w-we’ve gotta stop.”

You pull back. “Why?” you ask.

Spencer swallows, pushing you off his lap. “There’s this thing called transference. You only want me right now because I’m protecting you. You don’t like me.” He says. “We don’t like each other.”

You realized what Spencer was trying to say. You were both drunk and there, he didn’t really want you. It was being stuck together for so long that was making him attracted to you. You were foolish to think a guy would actually want you.

“You don’t like me.” You say. “And I read this situation wrong again. God, I’m an idiot!”

“I didn’t say that, Y/N-”

“No, you’re right. You only kissed me because I’m what you’ve been stuck with for weeks. You don’t like me. I can’t blame you no guy ever does.”

“No, Y/N, I just didn’t want to take advan--”

“I need to smoke. I’m going out.” You say, grabbing. “Alone.”

“Y/N, that’s not safe and you know it. Let me go with you.”

“I think we both need to be away from each other. I’ll only be out front. Please.” You plead to him.

Spencer doesn’t say anything so you take that as your cue to go. You pull your pack and lighter out the kitchen draw and stomp out the door. As soon as you get in front of the building, you light the first cigarette as stray tears fall down your face. You were such an idiot to think someone like Spencer would want you. Sure you were both smart but you were arrogant and spiteful. Spencer was the sweetest person ever when you got to know him. It was stupid to think there was a world the two of you would work.

You frustratedly put your cigarette out and stand to head back inside to probably embarrass yourself some more when you feel it.

The hard slam to the back of your head knocking you out cold.

------------------------------

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#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #bau x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

Hold Me Close

John Constantine x Original Female Character, Angst/Hurt Comfort

A/N: So this little bit of self-indulgence turned into a thing, because it's me and of course it did. I'm still in the early stages of developing Evie and her relationships, so please let me know what you think.

Warning: Mentions of child neglect, lots of crying

Summary: After an emotionally draining day, Evie finds herself with some unexpected company.

Word Count: 2.6K

The Waverider was completely silent, a rarity on the best of days, and a blessed relief to Evie.

She sat in the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea in her hands. She hadn't taken a single sip in the fifteen minutes since she made it.

All the emotions of the day were simmering to the surface. A tightness clung to her throat making it hard for her to breath. She needed to cry. She needed to sleep. She needed to scream. She needed so many things, all she could do was sit and stare into nothing.

"Are you ever going to drink that?"

Evie blinked. Looking up, she finally noticed John leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and tie.

"John? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She wanted to say something smart. On any other day she might have, but she was just too tired to be clever. Instead, she raised her mug to her lips and finally took a sip.

It was warm and did its job, loosening the lump in her throat, but it did little to help with the one in her chest.

"Need something stronger?" John suggested.

She shook her head. "This is about as strong as I can handle right now."

"Fair enough."

She expected that to be the end of it. But he surprised her, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a drink.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, misery loves company."

"And what have you got to be miserable about?"

He gave her a cynical smile. "Oh don't you worry love, I’ll think of something."

He took a seat beside her and raised his glass in a toast.

Evie obliged, clicking her mug against the tumbler before drinking.

They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, but there were questions hanging in the air that needed to be addressed.

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I told you."

She shot him a skeptical look.

He let out a sigh. "I don't sleep most nights. I saw you in here and..." He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I saw the look on your face when you saw your mum."

The tightness came back in her throat. Quickly, she turned back to her tea and took a long swig. All it did was stall the inevitable.

"How much did Michael tell you?" she asked, with a twist in her stomach.

"Not much," he admitted. "Just that his dad died before he knew him, didn't talk to his mum and that his sister was about the only parent he ever really had."

Evie huffed out a short laugh. It certainly sounded like the description Michael would give, and a more accurate one than she was willing to admit before.

"I take it there's a bit more to it than that," he continued.

She nodded. "Just a bit."

She took a drink, once again assuming a natural end to the conversation.

"You're just going to leave me with that?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"You seem to know most everything about me, whether I like it or not,” he answered, casually. “I like to work on an even playing field."

Evie considered him for a moment. It seemed like a reasonable answer. Still she couldn't help but feel her problems were childish compared to his. There was a reason she kept them to herself. Nobody actually wanted to know.

She turned her head away, her fingers rubbing absentmindedly against the mug. If she kept her mouth shut for just a few moments, he'd forget the whole thing.

She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. Her grip tightened. She willed herself to breathe.

"Evelyn..."

She stopped.

Looking down, she finally noticed rough fingers pressed gently around her wrist. She followed the line connecting the fingers to a hand, then to an arm, moving her gaze ever up until she dared a glance at the man they were attached to.

John’s expression was not soft, but his eyes held something she had not seen in a long time; a need to understand. How could she say no to that?

“My dad died when I was eight,” she began, swallowing the roughness of her voice. “My mum took it really hard. She might as well have been dead that first year. I’m not sure she even left her bed. Gran watched after her and didn’t want me or Michael causing trouble.

“Eventually though Mum was able to leave the house and Gran even got her a job at a pub not far from where we lived. But, it didn’t last long. Mum just...wasn’t there anymore. She’d forget to go into work or mess up orders or any number of other things until eventually they had to let her go. She didn’t work after that. Dad’s life insurance kept us afloat and Gran helped so, it wasn’t like we were starving. Even so, she would still...forget. By the time I was ten I was cooking most of the meals and made sure to stop by the shop on my way home from school, that sort of thing. And Mum would just...drift. It was like living with a ghost.”

Evie paused, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I can remember my dad, before he died. I can see his face. I remember bedtime stories and how he called me his little Evie Rose. But, for whatever reason, any time I try to remember what my mum was like, I draw a blank. Every memory I have of her is as this...corpse. It was easy for me to believe she was always like that. I convinced myself she couldn’t help it. She didn’t choose not to be there. She was trying and I just needed to pick up where she couldn’t. That was my job.”

Her throat tightened. She sucked in a breath and let it out with a slow quaver.

“But seeing her today, before...everything. She was real. She was real and alive and...there.”

Warm tears spilled down her face. She wiped them away, trying and failing to keep them in check.

“I know grief affects people differently. I know it does. I can’t imagine losing the love of my life like that. But I was her child. Michael was just three years old. We were alive and scared and confused, and we needed her. I needed my Mom and she wouldn’t…”

There was no stopping the tears now. Anger and resentment and grief twenty six years in the making poured out of her. It burned her skin, even if she tried to hide it, ever aware of the man watching her in careful silence.

“I spent so long telling myself it wasn’t her fault. I blamed myself for not doing better by her. But she never cared. I know she was grieving, but at some point she decided her grief was more important than her own children.”

She stopped, forcing herself to fill her lungs with much needed air.

“And I would get so angry. I used to think Michael was just being selfish, that he only cared about himself. But he knew. He knew what she was doing was wrong. He just wanted me to see it too. God, I said so many awful things.”

Guilt weighed in her stomach as she pushed away her straggling tears. She could still feel the prickling behind her eyes, but she didn’t want to spill any more than she had. She had no right to them.

“I’m just a horrible mess of a person.”

A scoff came at her side.

She turned, to see John shaking his head.

“Something funny?”

“Aye, everything,” he said, sardonically. “Trust a Catholic to come to that conclusion.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon Evie, you’re not a horrible anything. You looked after your brother and your mum when no one else would. When you should have given up on her is a matter for yourself to deal with, but you’re not a bad person for holding out hope. As for Michael, I have a feeling he’s not as resentful as you think he is. Besides, he definitely had some of it coming.”

Evie couldn’t think of what to say, but the corner of her lip did quirk up, just a little. Still, guilt lingered and exhaustion was now taking the place of her anger. The prickling was back, reminding her of the tears still left to shed.

“Now, how about that drink,” John said.

Evie let out a long sigh, rubbing her hand across her face. "Not a bad idea. Honestly, what I could really go for is someone to just hold me for two or three...hours." She tried to make it sound like a joke, but the strain on her voice made her attempt at laughter come off as forced and awkward.

The look on John's face only made her feel worse. He had been uncharacteristically kind to her already. Now, she just made an embarrassing situation down right uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I laid this all on you,” she said. “I should just go to bed.”

She stood quickly, not even bothering to grab her mug as she headed towards the exit.

She barely made it two steps when a hand grasped at her own.

“Wait.”

She turned.

He was still sitting. His eyes focused on their intertwined fingers. The expression on his face was unreadable. For a moment, she thought he’d let go and forget the whole thing. But then, he came to a decision.

Standing, he took a step toward her, never dropping his grip for a moment. He watched her, carefully checking she had no objections to how close he was.

Her stillness was his answer.

Reaching out his free hand, he cradled her head and guided her to him.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to do.

His hand slipped from hers, but found no place to land, as if he wasn't sure where exactly to touch her. All the same, the intent was felt.

Taking initiative, she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

His clothes still held the scent of detergent with just a bit the tobacco smoke she secretly loved. She let herself breathe it in, enjoying the warmth against her cheek and the firmness of his body.

Slowly his hands found purpose. One wrapped tight around her waist while the other curled gently in her hair.

For a while, they just stood there, neither of them daring to break the quiet calm that had settled in the air.

"It's alright Eves," John whispered into her ear. "I've got you, love. It's alright."

It was only then Evie realized she was crying again. The tears and emotions leaked out of her, spilling over the side like an over filled sink. She was starting to shake, trying and failing to keep her breath in check all the while John held on, pressing her even closer into him.

"You're alright," he promised. "I've got you, Eves. You're alright."

The tears weren’t as violent as before. This was catharsis. The last breath of emotional release she needed. So, she let herself feel.

She cried for her brother. She cried for her father. She cried for what might have been and what was. All of it came out in gentle sobs made bearable by the man who wouldn’t let go.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but after a while she had nothing more to give. Her breath returned to something manageable. Her heart, no longer quiet as heavy. Still, she couldn’t pull away from John just yet. She was too tired and he felt too good. She could see herself closing her eyes and staying right there until her legs gave out.

“Not that I’ve got anywhere to be,” he said, gently. “But were you serious about the two to three hours thing?”

She laughed, a real one this time; short, but bright and welcome.

“No,” she assured. “I wouldn’t do that to your reputation.”

He didn’t say anything back, but she took the hint.

With a great effort, she pulled herself from him, leaving her skin colder for it. Now that she had a proper view, a sudden spike of embarrassment shot through her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, immediately reaching to brush away the obvious stain on his shirt.

John looked down as if just noticing himself.

“Oh believe me, I’ve been covered in worse. Besides, holy woman’s oughta be good for something.”

“I’m not that holy,” she said, with not as much annoyance as that sentence usually carried.

“But you are good,” he countered. “You can’t be anything else.”

Again, something was missing from this usual exchange. The irony had somehow disappeared. The way he was looking at her now, she could believe he meant them.

Then, something happened. His expression became pensive. His eyes shifted away as he took a small step back, putting some visible distance between them.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his tone now back to its usual guarded self.

Her brow creased in confusion. “You sure you don’t want company?”

“I think if this whole exercise has taught us anything it’s that you need to stop worrying about other people all the time.”

His tone was curt, but there was something performative in it, making it land awkwardly on its intended audience.

All the same, Evie knew rejection when she heard it and felt the intended hurt in her chest.

Apparently it showed on her face as John gave a long sigh. “Look just, get some rest and you can worry about me tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. She didn’t know what she had done to make John’s mood shift so abruptly, but she needed to fix it. He had helped her, after all. It didn’t feel right to end the night like this.

With cautious determination, she took a step forward, effectively closing the gap he had created.

John appeared frozen in place, his brow creased in confusion.

Taking the opportunity, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She was met with rough stubble and the smell of whiskey, a combination she was surprised to find she liked. But couldn’t appreciate it as John turned his head, meeting her eyes.

“Now, why would you do something like that?”

Evie swallowed, a sudden dryness coming to her throat. His lips were much closer to hers than she anticipated.

“I just wanted to say, thank you,” she said, softly. “You’re a good man, John Constantine.”

He looked down at her, his throat and lip tightening as he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

She smiled knowingly. “Yes you are.”

She kissed his cheek again, this time lingering just a moment as if touch would convey the truth of her statement more than her words could.

“Goodnight, John,” she whispered.

To her surprise, he didn’t push her away. His eyes lingered, floating between her eyes and lips and back again.

She held her breath, wondering if he would lean down and feel her lips for himself. She wondered if she would let him.

But he hesitated. A breath was drawn in and his gaze settled on her eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Evie.”

She nodded, feeling the moment slip away as quickly as it had come.

She settled back down on two solid feet, turned and walked back to her room without looking back. Only when the door closed did she allow herself to linger on the burning of her lips and the hard thumping in her chest.

She didn’t know what truly happened between her and John, but there was no use denying it. Something was different and time would only tell what that meant.

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow oc #arrowverse #arrowverse oc #john constantine #john constantine x oc #john constantine x reader #evelyn doyle

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poutyyybangtan · 4 years ago

Text

ready or not - j.jk

genre: friends to lovers, enemy to lovers, (almost a slow burn?), a mix of everything lol character pairing: jeon jungkook 9bts) x female oc warnings: not really any lol just angsty fluff kinda stuff word count: 5.4k (it’s alot) authors note: i wrote this months ago and it’s not finished but i can finish it if yall want? let me know :)

______

(prompts from @im-here-to-help-you-all-write)

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets.” “yeah, kinda like your face.”

“i need your help.” “holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that.’ “please don’t rub it in right now.”

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet” “you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time.”

you can’t believe you actually had to do this. the last person you ever wanted to look at was your only shot at getting out of the situation you brought upon yourself. you had originally counted on one of your other friends to help you out, but of course, life never seemed to work out the way you wanted it to.

“jin, please. can’t you just cancel and come with me?” you begged, watching as your older companion continued to chop away at some vegetables.

“you know i would love to help bamboozle your family with my impeccable acting skills, but unfortunately, i do have a business to run. this weekend is a big deal for the restaurant and joon would kill me if i left him alone to handle such a thing. and besides, we all know joon can’t toast bread without having to call the fire department first,” jin laughs. you laugh softly, knowing jin had a point. poor namjoon had amazing business skills, but unfortunately that means he lacks in the cooking department.

“i guess you’re right,” you mumble begrudgingly.

“why not ask jimin if he can go?” jin asks, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pot.

“my mom knows him, she’ll know something isn’t right. and besides, he and hobi are going to a dance camp for school,” you shrug.

“and tae? yoongi?” jin asks.

“he’s got that test retake for his photography class and yoongs has an audition for an entertainment company in gangnam,” you sigh. you’re really proud of all your friends and the successes they have, but you really wished they could’ve helped you in your time of need. but you couldn’t be that selfish, so maybe you had to admit defeat.

“you know, you could just ask jungkook,” jin asks nonchalantly.

“you know i can’t do that,” you answer bluntly, refusing to even entertain the idea.

“i mean, you could,” jin laughs, putting the lid on the pot and onto the stove top, turning to you afterwards.

“jin, you know i can’t. he is the last person on earth i would ask to help me. i would rather die of embarrassment than to ask him for his help,” you dramatically claim.

“you just might if you don’t ask. besides, what's the big deal? it’s only for a weekend,” jin shrugs.

“yeah, a whole weekend of him pretending to be my boyfriend. jin, we can barely tolerate each other as is, having us cooped up together and pretending like we actually like each other is a whole other ball game,” you said.

“well, here’s the way i look at it. either you tell your mother that you don’t have a boyfriend and face embarrassment at your mother's wedding, or you can suck it up, ask jungkook nicely to do you this one favor, and have fun this weekend. you never know, jungkook might actually be up for it,” jin says, an underlying suggestive tone in his voice; one that you never caught.

you had to admit, jin was right. as painful as it was, jungkook was your only chance at escaping this nightmarish weekend.

you found jungkook in his usual zone of comfort: with his lips attached to some random girl he probably barely knew. you found yourself scrunching your face in distaste. such a vulgar display in a library no less. you huffed off your second doubts and approached the table with confidence. you noticed that neither party acknowledged your presence, so you knocked on the table to gain their attention. reluctantly, the girl pulled away first to throw you a bitter look.

“jeon, can we talk?” you say softly, not trying to cause a disturbance.

“i’m kind of busy, can’t it wait?” jungkook asks, a smug look on his face, the girl sat next to him donned a complacent smile on hers.

“please, i saw you making out with some bimbo blonde yesterday, i’m sure you can find some other toy to play with when we’re done,” you smirk, watching the look on the girls face fall with every passing word that escaped your lips. she glanced over at jungkook with disgust before grabbing her belongings and walking away in a fit.

“great, well there goes my whole afternoon,” jungkook scoffs. he leans into his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“you’ll deal. look, i need your help,” you admit, much to your dismay.

“holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that,” jungkook laughs ironically.

“please don’t rub it in right now,” you groan.

“how can i offer my service to you?” jungkook smirks, looking up at your obviously irritated figure.

“i need... i can’t believe i’m saying this. i need you to be my boyfriend for the weekend,” you spit out.

“you what?” jungkook asks incredulously. you don’t blame him for his confusion. what you were asking was heinous, add to the fact that you two barely tolerated each other? it was the biggest taboo situation you could’ve put yourself in. but you were desperate.

your mother, as loving as she was, was relentless. she just wanted the best for you. you were about to graduate college soon, about to get a real career and be a real adult. and to her, that meant start a family as soon as possible. and that couldn’t happen without being in a relationship first. and what better way than to hook your daughter up at a gathering for family friends? cause nothing says love like a wedding, right?

“what’s in it for me?” jungkook asks. you looked at him in disbelief.

“wait, you’re actually considering it?” you asked.

“well, you gave me a proposition, so why not?” jungkook asks.

“uh, because we’re not necessarily friends? it’s not like you owe me anything to even consider the idea,” you chuckle.

“you might not be my friend, but that doesn’t mean i’m not yours,” jungkook shrugs, finally standing up and collecting his scattered books. you hadn’t actually noticed them before, you just thought that the library was a good place for jungkook to hook up, not an actual study zone.

“well, uh, what do you have in mind?” you asked, answering his question finally.

“i need a date for this work thing, and my usual hookups aren't going to cut it. they’re not exactly what you would say… modest?” jungkook jokes, causing you to laugh a little bit.

“sound like a deal?” jungkook asks after a moment of silence passes. you pretend to consider his proposition, as if you actually had a choice. you look up at him and you can see that he saw that too.

“what kind of work thing?”

“where are you going?” jimin asks, watching you step out of your bedroom clad in a cocktail dress. you really would’ve rather been at your shared apartment, cuddled up next to jimin and tae watching some horror film eating greasy food, but alas, you had to uphold your end of the bargain.

“remember i told you that in order for jungkook to uphold his end, i have to uphold mine? apparently, he works at some magazine company and they’re having a company gathering to celebrate the issue's 90th anniversary and he needed me to come with,” you groan, strapping on your heels.

“you’re going all out for this,” taehyung comments, a teasing tone hidden in his words. you looked up and glared at him, knowing what he meant.

“if i put forth 100%, maybe he will too,” you say.

“oh, he most definitely will be putting in 100% effort,” jimin says, low enough for only taehyung to hear which makes him giggle. you look up and see jimin smirking at you which makes you groan internally.

suddenly, the doorbell rings and you thank whatever being there is that saves you from the conversation that was happening, with or without your participation. you pull the door open and the first thing you see is jungkook, properly dressed head to toe. you notice the bow tie pressed snuggly against his neck, not a wrinkle in his suit jacket or his dress shirt. his long hair was parted down the middle, brushed out out of his eye. you hated to admit it, but he looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“wow,” jungkook finally says, eyeing you in a way that made the blood pool in your cheeks.

“uh, yeah. let’s- let’s go,” you murmur, noticing the boys in the living room giggling at your guys’ interaction. you shove him in his chest. he grabs your hands and laughs, pulling you out the door.

“what did i miss?” jungkook asks. you roll your eyes, noticing the way jungkook held onto your hand, even after you got further and further away from your apartment, but not minding the warmth his hand provided against your cold one.

“trust me, nothing you want to hear, and nothing i’m willing to repeat,” you scoff.

jungkook was right. he had warned you beforehand that everyone at his job was stuck up and snobbish and would continuously point out that fact that you were no model. and like he had forewarned, all you heard all night was “you’re too pretty not to be a model” or “jungkook ended up with you?” you were appalled, sure, but you didn’t take their words to heart. you don’t know these people, and after tonight, you’re never going to see them again.

but jungkook flinched every time someone opened their mouth. he felt bad for you, but when he saw you delicately handle the situation, he knew you would be fine. still, it didn’t make him feel any less bad.

“we can leave whenever you want, you know?” jungkook whispers into your ear. you look up at him and smile.

“sounds like you’re using me as an excuse to ditch this snooze fest,” you giggle. jungkook smiles back down at you and laughs with you.

“busted,” he finally says.

“thank god, let’s ditch these runway wannabes and get some pizza. i’m starved,” you groan, looking away, missing the endearing glance he tosses your way. you both ditch the stuffy building, and headed to a late night pizza shop down the corner. you sigh in relief once you step into the restaurant, inhaling the smell of cheese and dough. you both decide to seat yourselves in a booth in the corner of the dining area. once you both place your orders, you settle into a comfortable silence.

“so, what caused you to conjure up this boyfriend lie?” jungkook asked after awhile.

“my mom thinks that i need to be in a relationship to be happy since i’m getting ready to enter the real world,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and leaning into your elbows that rested on the table.

“thats stupid,” jungkook scoffs, leaning into the booth. you were caught off guard by this, expecting jungkook to somewhat agree with your mother.

“you look surprised,” he says, gauging your reaction.

“i kind of am. not gonna lie, i was expecting you to agree with her,” you say, shrugging. the waiter brings your slices and leaves you two alone, settling back into the conversation.

“no way. if you want to be single, you should. i’m sure you’re single by choice anyways,” jungkook says, picking up his pizza and taking a huge bite of it.

“what do you mean?” you ask him, slightly confused behind the intentions of his sentence.

“i just mean that you’re insanely smart, funny and talented. and you’re extremely beautiful. if you wanted any guy, you could have him,” jungkook shrugs, munching on his pizza in peace. meanwhile, his statement sent you into a frenzy. who knew jeon jungkook thought so highly of you. you were under the impression that he dispised your entire being. he never really complimented you before, so his statement shocked you.

“never knew you thought so highly of me,” you said, smiling to yourself. you can’t really explain it and you don’t know why, but knowing how jungkook truly felt about you made you extremely happy.

“there’s a lot you don’t now about me,” he winks, causing you to roll your eyes and eat your pizza. and yet again, you missed the way jungkook smiled at you, enjoying your presence more than he would care to admit to.

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet,” you murmur, feeling your hands start to shake as you stood outside the venue.

“you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time,” jungkook smiles, taking hold of your hand and waltzing you two into the building. your mom had asked you to come early for a surprise so you decided to give her a surprise of your own.

“jungkook, maybe we should say you caught food poisoning and we had to leave,” you murmured as jungkook continued to drag you further and further into the building. jungkook smiled at your child-like nature and shook his head.

“we’ve come too far to give up now. let’s just rock this and get home,” he says, smiling at you. you felt a sudden urge of confidence that surges through you and gives you enough momentum to swing open the doors of the chapel hall. you were taken aback by the way the chairs are decorated with white pieces, hanging off the backs. you take notice of the pale yellow and white combo that you didn’t think would match so well. you felt happy for your mom and that she met someone who loved her so much that they were willing to do this for her to cherish the day.

“it’s beautiful,” you gape, admiring all the minute details your mother probably agonized over. jungkook admired the astonished look on your face as you practically ignored his presence to take in your surroundings. he always found you beautiful, but watching you be you while nobody was looking was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. jungkook had the biggest crush on you for as long as he could remember. and he refused to even fathom the thought of confessing to you when he knew how you felt. he knew you couldn’t stand his lifestyle, his choices that he’s made regrettably. but how else was he supposed to cope with the fact with the one person he’s allowed to steal his heart hates him.

“ah, there you are,” a voice says from behind you two. you both turn around and you see your mom, hair curlers and full glam.

“hi mama,” you smile, running up to her and giving her a big hug.

“hi sweet pea,” your mama coos, swaying you both back and forth. you pull back and look behind you to see jeon smiling at the interaction. this made your heart jump for a split second before you returned back to your surroundings.

“ma, this is my boyfriend, jeon jungkook,” you smile.

“oh my, you’re so handsome,” your mother gushes, rushing up to him and pulling him into a hug.

“thank you,” jungkook smiles, blushing slightly. you’ve never seen jeon blush before and to see him in a such a fragile state made you happy. and you couldn’t seem to figure out why. your mom finally released jeon from her clutches and she turned back to you.

“hun, i’ve got a surprise for you. follow me,” she says, grabbing yours and jeon’s hands dragging you to what you assumed was the dressing room. there were two dresses that were covered hanging off of a clothing rack. your mom shoves you guys onto a couch and rushes over to the dresses.

“one of these beauties will be yours to wear for the wedding because… hon, will you be my maid of honor?” your mother asks, eyes full of stars that made your heart swell. you felt the air leave your lungs and your heart begin to race. you remember watching your mom struggle with love all her life, her face in a frown always. you’ve never seen your mom so happy now, and you would do anything just to see her happy.

“ma, are you serious?” you ask, wanting to be sure this is what she really wanted.

“of course baby,” she smiles. you jump up and hug her tightly, muttering a yes into her hair. you both squeal with delight, jumping in place like teenage girls. suddenly, another pair of arms are wrapped around you, chest pressed against your back. you managed to look up and see jungkook bouncing with you and your mom.

“i wanted to join too,” jungkook says, his voice high pitched and filled with excitement which in response, made you giggle. you all finally stop bouncing and jungkook pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, catching you off guard. you felt your heart race and you swore his heartbeat matched yours. you brushed it off as it being the sudden activity you all had just endured.

“i’ll leave you two alone so you can try the dresses,” your mother says after she catches her breath, winking at you.

“you’re just gonna let your daughter get undressed in front of her boyfriend alone?” you ask incredulously.

“hon, he’s your boyfriend. i’m sure he’s seen more,” she giggles, exiting the room, leaving you with your jaw wide open.

“can you believe this?” you ask, shocked at your mothers bold statement.

“i’ve always wondered where you get your vulgarity from,” jungkook teases, his chest causing a vibration that you felt in your back, reminding you of your close, read as nonexistent, proximity. you push yourself away and whip around to face him, catching a glimpse of him trying to fight the smile that tried its best to take place on his delicate features.

“i’m not vulgar and you’re not watching me change. however, i do need an opinion on the dresses, so i guess you can stay,” you say, walking past him to try on the dresses. you snatch both of them of the rack and head into the bathroom, changing into dress number one.

at first you thought it was a joke, the frills and exotic colors making your eyes hurt from how loud it was. you tried it on anyway, and you couldn’t believe how ridiculous you looked. no way your mother was being serious when she picked this dress out. you unlocked the bathroom door and stopped your way to where jungkook was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. you clear your throat to capture his attention and you nearly explode with the laughter with the way his eyes widen and face drops.

“what do you think?” you ask him, twirling around in the godforsaken dress you know your mother probably bought as a joke.

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets,” jungkook says, a dumbfounded look on his face. you withhold your laughter and stare at him in distaste.

“yeah like your face,” you scoff, playing with the dress as if you actually admired it.

“are you gonna wear that?” he asks, secretly hoping you’d say no so he could release a breathe he didn’t know he was holding.

“well, i like it, don’t you?” you say, continuing to pretend like you actually were considering wearing this deafening dress.

“uh.. if you like it then… sure,” jungkook says, shifting in his seat. you admired the fact that he was trying to cater to your feelings and for some reason it made your heart race at the thought. you don’t know whats been going on with you lately but every kind gesture has made your heart race with excitement. you didn’t know when it happened, but you started looking at jungkook as more and it scared you. you couldn’t be with him. you knew that. jungkook had a reputation, and he was proud of it. he was proud of the amount of women he could pull in one night. hell, in one hour. he was used to the idea that feelings were a concept he wasn’t willing to understand or try out. and you had to accept that.

“i’m messing with you gukkie. my mom probably bought this as a gag, the real dress is still in its cover,” you say laughing at jungkooks face that was contorted into one of discomfort. you leave him to relish in your teasing as you retreat back to the bathroom to change into the actual dress. you could still hear jungkook laugh to himself as you unzipped the dress to change into the other one. little did you know, he was laughing to himself about the nickname you gave him. he’s never had a nickname he actually enjoyed before. he was still lost in the thought of you calling him gukkie forever when you finally exited the bathroom.

he always thought those scenes in cheesy rom-com teen films where the guy is staring at the girl like she’s the only one that matters was cliche. but he was wrong. so very wrong. watching you in the tight floor length pale yellow dress that just made you glow knocked all the air out of his lungs. you’re hair that was in a messy ponytail allowed some pieces of hair to frame your face as you continued to fumble with the dress.

“it’s a little longer than i thought, but it fits well, yeah?” you say, still looking down at the gown. you honestly felt ridiculous. you rarely dress up like this. you hid your body underneath baggy clothing so to have something so tightly pressed against your body made you severely insecure. the silence coming from jungkook made everything worse. you looked up to see jungkook leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs, hands holding his head up. there was a look in his eye you had never seen before and it made your stomach churn with excitement.

“that bad huh?” you joke, hoping to ease some of the tension that was building in the room. jungkook stands to his feet and approaches you, his body so close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook says, smiling down at you. you feel yourself blush and begin to fumble with your fingers, a nervous tic jungkook found absolutely adorable. jungkook was helplessly in love with you, this much he knew. from the way you laughed, to the way you rolled your eyes in his presence. he loved the way you gave yourself wholly to the ones you cared about, willing and able to do any and everything for the people you love. he loved the way you strived to work hard and how incredibly intelligent you were. and suddenly, his heart was full with all the love he was dying to give you, but know he never could. because you deserved much more than some player who was willing to sleep with anything with legs. but if he could at least pretend like the love between you two was real, even if for a short while, he’ll take it. as desperate as he was, he wanted to know what it felt like to have you love him back. even if he knew it was all pretend.

“jungkook, i can’t thank you enough for doing this. i know you would rather be in some girls bed trying to figure out a way to sneak out without her noticing, but i’m glad you’re here… with me,” you smile, hands gripping his bicep’s to keep him close. his cologne was hypnotizing, causing you to pull him closer and closer.

“there’s no place i would rather be,” jungkook said honestly, placing his hands onto your waist, allowing you to lean in.

“you don’t mean that,” you scoff, smiling and rolling your eyes, getting ready to pull yourself back from a dangerous territory. jungkook stops this from happening, wrapping his arm around you til your pressed flush against his body.

“you have no idea how bad i want you. all of you. mind, body and soul. but for right now, for the sake of our friendship and the momentum its growing, i will take you in whatever way you will allow me to have,” jungkooks says, forehead pressed against yours as he wills himself to hold back from pressing his lips against yours and taking you on the small couch in the dressing room. the words jungkook spoke so honestly made you shake from it’s intensity.

“jungkook i--”

“how’d the dress fit?” you mother asks, barging into the room. you and jungkook scramble apart from one another, him taking seat on the couch and you standing in front of him. you mother misses the way you two seemed highly unfocused and nervous as she coos over how adorable you look in the right dress.

“you need to finish getting your hair and makeup done, so scooch along so me and your beautiful boyfriend can get to know each other,” your mother says shoving you out of the room and directing you to where the other bridesmaids were getting their hair and makeup done. it wasn’t until you were sat in the chair that you realized.. your mother and jungkook were alone. oh boy.

you never felt so girly in your life. your hair was curled and put up in a half up half down situation, your makeup light and barely noticeable, but enough to tell you were wearing it. this wasn’t you, you didn’t like wearing makeup mainly because at the end of the day you forget to take it off and causes acne. you were working part time and went to school full time so you always left your hair in a ponytail or a bun. this look was new for you and you were kind of excited yet nervous for jungkook’s reaction.

you surprised yourself with the thought, not really caring about jungkook’s opinions before, but now it was all you could think of, and that scared you. you knew this was just a favor he was owing to you, but he was really going above and beyond and it warmed your heart. but you had to remind yourself that you were just friends, nothing more. hell, you were barely friends. had it not been for you incessant need to prove yourself to your mom, you two would’ve never even became cordial with one another.

you brush these thoughts aside, trying to manifest positive vibes for such a joyous occasion. you leave the dressing room, filled with chatter, in search of jungkook who may be suffering your mother’s constant conversation. you return back to the room you first were in when you arrived, catching your mother exiting the room.

“you didn’t scare him off, did you?” you tease, hugging your mom.

“honey, you look beautiful!,” your mom gushes, taking in the sight of her daughter. you smile and thank her, happy that she was happy.

“is he still in there?” you ask, nodding towards the door she came out of. she giggled and placed her hands on your shoulder.

“he is, and he is absolutely in love with you,” she smiles, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“what do you mean?” you ask, your heart starting to race.

“the way he talks about you, the way his eyes gleam with love with the mere thought of you. hunny, this man is undoubtedly in love with you,” she smiles. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, there was no way that jeon jungkook, the university playboy, is in love with you. you two barely conversed without an argument taking place. you doubt he knew anything about you, despite you two running in the same circles. sure, you knew a lot about him, just because your friends talked about him a lot and it was hard not to listen to sometimes.

“you’re crazy ma. you need to finish getting ready, the weddings going to start soon,” you laugh, trying to brush off the conversation.

“jungkook is in there getting ready, one of robert’s groomsmen caught food poisoning so he’s gonna walk down the aisle with your cousin, sam,” she said, rushing off to get ready, leaving you no room to reply. this wasn’t what he signed up for and you felt bad, so you went into the room to check on him. you caught him standing in front of the vanity, trying to finish off his tie. you had seen jungkook dressed up before, but there was something different about this time. you felt something more for him, and honestly, you always have. but his reputation…

“looking sharp,” you smile, looking up at him. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smiles, and this time you see it. the love your mother was talking about.

“you look beautiful, as usual,” he says, his charm peeking through. you scoff at his comment, walking up to him. you seemed small compared to him, and it was kind of an odd sight for you. you leaned your head against his shoulder, just staring at him staring at you through the mirror.

“something on your mind?” he asks, noticing how lost in thought you were. you focus in on him and the surroundings around you.

“my ma said something interesting earlier that’s got me thinking is all,” you say, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue much further. you didn’t want to make the air awkward or uncomfortable by trying to involve feelings, but a big part of you want to know how he feels from his own lips.

“what did she say?” he asked, his nerves jumping. he didn’t say anything wrong did he? he tried to be as cordial and respectful as possible, wanting your mother to like him. if things were to happen in the future, he didn’t want to be on bad terms with your mother.

“she said… she said that you love me?” you murmur, you heart caught in your throat now that the truth was out there and you can’t take it back. jungkook froze, caught off guard by your confession. he wanted to play it off like it wasn’t true, that your mother was delusional. but he knew the truth. and he knew that you also knew it too. he wanted you. he’s always wanted you. and now, he’s presented with the opportunity to have you in any way he wants and he can’t make the move to move forward.

“is it true?” you ask, trying to get a clear and concise answer. you’re not sure what’s going to happen, regardless of what his answer is, but the anxiety of not knowing is starting to kill you. you shouldn’t be forcing him to confess, but now that it was out there in the air, you couldn’t take it back. maybe you should tell him?

“if you’re not comfortable talking about it it’s o--”

“i love you,” he blurts, interrupting you. you pick your head up off of his shoulder and now you’re standing side by side, staring at him through the vanity mirror. you’re frozen, unsure of what to do now. you didn’t actually think he was going to say it. you thought your mother was pulling your leg. but she didn’t know that you two weren’t actually a couple and maybe that’s why you had hoped what she said was true.

“did you hear me?” he asks, voice laced with nerves. he couldn’t even begin to explain the amount of fear and vulnerability he was feeling at the moment. he meant it. he loved you. but why should you believe him. he was a playboy, and though you may never understand his reasons as to why he tried so hard to escape you by sleeping with other people, he wanted nothing more for you to believe him now.

“i did,” you whisper, afraid that the sound of your beating heart was louder than the words you spoke. you wanted him, god you wanted him, but you were scared that his words were from false bravado. a heat of the moment feeling that was fleeting.

“i know you might not believe me, and you have every right not to. but i love you with my entire being and.. it’s scary,” he chuckles, trying to explain his emotions to the only person he’s ever been vulnerable with.

“and like i told you earlier, for the sake of us finally gaining friendship, i will play it to your pace and whenever you’re ready, let me know. because i’ll be here,” he smiles. he turns to you, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before walking out of the room, leaving you confused as to what the hell just happened.

_______

an: part two? let me know :)

#jeonjungkook #jeonjeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk #jungkook #bts scenarios #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #kpop scenarios #bangtan boys scenarios #kpop

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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

Text

What a Lie We’re In (1/3)

All Emma was doing was trying to be nice. Her roommate didn’t have anywhere to go, so she invited him home for the holidays. She thought it would be fine and Killian would be a good buffer for a week at home with her parents. That is until her ex-boyfriend showed up, and while she was freaking out, Killian told him they were dating.

That would have been fine except her parents overheard it.

(A Christmas Fake Dating AU)

Rating: Mature

a/n: What? A holiday fake dating story? So original, you say? No one has ever done it before? Especially not me. lol. Forget all of that, and let’s jump into this trope-a-palooza of a holiday story!

Big thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over this and convincing me that I still know how to write ❤️

ao3: | HERE |

-/-

“Did you eat all of my candy?”

Emma opens another cabinet, looking inside to the wine glasses and tumblers, before closing it. She’s been keeping her bag of candy in the cabinet where they keep their plates and bowls, hidden at the very top behind some reusable water bottles. Killian is a healthy eater, always stocking the fridge with fruits and vegetables and food she doesn’t think is actually real food, so she didn’t think she had to hide her junk food that well.

Hide it, yes. Hide it well, no.

Until now.

“What was that, love?”

Emma slams another cabinet closed and turns to look at Killian. He’s walking out of the bathroom, chest still damp, and only has a white towel wrapped around his waist. When he first moved into the apartment six months ago after Ruby abandoned Emma to go live with Dorothy (live with, get married to, same thing), Emma was taken aback by the lack of clothes wearing Killian partakes in. He’s an attractive man. She’s not blind. He goes to the gym as often as she does, but mostly, he spends a lot of time doing heavy lifting at his job as a contractor since he apparently likes to be hands-on, literally. His body is toned, and the son of the bitch knows it. He also knows he’s got the face to be able to get away with a lot of…well, a lot.

At first, it was all disconcerting, but now, he could walk around with his dick out and Emma wouldn’t care.

What she cares about is where her candy is. That’s the real priority. But she knows Killian will try to use his lack of clothes to distract her. Never worked in the past, not gonna work now, bud.

“My candy,” Emma repeats. “Where is it?”

He wipes behind his ear with the small towel in his hand. “I wouldn’t touch the stuff. You don’t like the good candy.”

“Well, my good candy has been moved, and we’re the only two people who live here.”

Emma places her hands on her hips, staring him down hoping he will somehow be intimidated by her stare and fess up to everything. He won’t be, but Emma can try. They both have their tactics.

Killian clicks his tongue. “What about the fellow you brought home last week?”

“Do you mean the plumber?”

“Was that who he was?”

“You know I don’t bring guys back here.” Emma moves from the counter and opens the fridge, taking out a handful of grapes from the fridge. She probably needs to eat some of them and not candy anyway. As she pops one into her mouth, that’s when it clicks. “Your girlfriend ate my candy, didn’t she?”

He scoffs and keeps drying his hair, but she sees the way he scratches his ear. Gotcha, Jones. “I don’t believe I have a girlfriend.”

“What? Tink break up with you because you wouldn’t let her eat dessert on your dates? Wait, I heard it. Don’t make it dirty.” Killian walks toward her, getting in her space, and she knows him well enough to know he wants her to flinch, to move, to stop her line of questioning. That’s exactly why she doesn’t want to. Emma pops another grape in her mouth. “Did you eat my candy? Was it your way of wallowing? It’s okay if you did. I’ll take another bag for payment.”

“For your information, Swan,” he whispers as he places his hand on her hip, “we are no longer seeing each other, but it was mutual. She did, however, eat your candy when she was last here. If you really want to know, we used it to – ”

“Stop,” Emma groans, pushing him away and running to the other side of the kitchen. “Nope. Don’t take that any further. Some things should be left private.”

His head tilts back as he laughs, the underside of his jaw black with stubble, and then he’s reaching into the cabinet above the fridge and tossing her the bag of sweets.

Oh.

“I hid it after Will and Rob found it while we were playing cards last night. Will nearly went through all your milk duds before I realized what was happening.” He raises his brow. “You have something you want to say to me?”

Emma knows what he’s aiming for, and she isn’t going to give it to him.

“Yeah,” Emma says, “you need a thicker towel. I don’t think you want people seeing you when you look like…that.” She nods her head down and then picks up a handful of Kit Kats. “I gotta go to work.”

“Off to die inside at your cubicle, love?”

“Oh, you know it.”

Emma grabs her purse and unlocks the door only to hear Killian speak. “It’s December. How do you still have Halloween candy leftover?”

Emma shrugs. “I bought one bag to pass out to kids, two bags for me.”

“Bloody brilliant.”

“I do what I can. See you tonight. I’ll try not to wake you up from your nap when I come in.”

“That would be the least you could do.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but then she’s officially walking out the door of her apartment and down toward the elevator, a Kit Kat bar hanging out of the side of her mouth.

The thing about Killian Jones is that he’s simple to her.

He likes his friends, his job, his rum, and his women. There’s not much else to him, and Emma is okay with that. While her last roommate was her best friend, this one doesn’t have to be. He can just be a guy who pays the bills so she can keep living in a nice place and who, on occasion, talks shit about other people with her while they binge watch TV.

That’s all she needs.

And all and all, Killian Jones is a…fine roommate. Yeah, fine is an accurate way to describe him at least eighty percent of the time.

Even if she does get annoyed when he brings his dates home. But that’s only because it’s always on the nights she plans on going to bed early, and the noise of other people being around keeps her from catching up on sleep.

Emma is not one to mess around on sleep.

But yeah, he’s fine. Annoying as hell over half the time, but he’s fine in the small dosages she sees him in. He works odd hours, isn’t always on the job, and she is stuck with regular hours in her office. There’s not a lot of glory in working HR for a small engineering company, but that’s what happens when you make dumbass decisions like Emma did. She’s lucky she has a stable job. She’ll try not to complain too much about it.

That’s what she tells herself every morning when she sits in her car and stares at the drab brick building.

Money. She has to make money.

And hey, she gets almost an entire week off for Christmas next week, and that’s fucking incredible, even if she does have to spend it in her hometown with her parents and their Hallmark-like attitude toward the holiday and the events it puts on. Her mom is a teacher at the elementary school and produces the Christmas play every year while her dad is a vet and outfits all his patients in little holiday bandanas and bows. He even has a tree in his office decorated with bone ornaments.

It’s…a lot. But it’s family, and as Emma stares at this building that’s sucking the life out of her, she can’t wait to have a change of pace and some home-cooked meals, even if there are as many downsides as upsides to going home. Her Kit Kat bars aren’t giving her the nutrients she knows she needs.

Being an adult is not all it’s cracked up to be sometimes, especially when going home for the holidays is seen as more of a burden than a gift with a fancy bow on top. It’s more like that turkey that dries up and falls to pieces in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

Well, that and the squirrel crashing every decoration in the house.

Happy holidays.

-/-

“Nah, mate, I don’t have any plans.”

Emma quietly puts her keys down on the table next to her front door, laying her purse down with it, and she kicks her boots off until they topple over each other and lay in the middle of the hallway. She can hear Killian talking, and it gets even louder when she walks into the kitchen and turns on the coffee maker.

“No, no, well, you know, I rarely do anything, not since Liam.” There’s a pause as the coffee begins to percolate and Emma grabs another Kit Kat from her bag. “I went home with Milah once, but that was years ago…no, mate, it’s alright. I don’t mind staying here by myself…yeah, I think Emma is going home to her parents.”

And that’s when she realizes what Killian is talking about.

Christmas plans.

He doesn’t have any. Emma didn’t know that. She didn’t really bother to ask. She doesn’t bother to ask much of Killian. She picks up pieces here and there, as she’s sure he does to her, but they mind their own business.

He doesn’t have a family to go home to? She knows he’s originally from England, but still. There must be someone.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Killian says. “I promise if I need anything, I’ll let you know. Alright, bye Scarlet.”

The coffee finishes, and Emma picks the pot up and starts pouring, filling her large mug halfway before getting hazelnut creamer out of the fridge and making the coffee drinkable. Killian joins her in the kitchen and perches himself on one of their stools.

“Good day at work?” he asks.

“Eh, it was a day. You?”

He shrugs. “The same. I’m finishing up on this house tomorrow, hopefully, so tomorrow will be a good day.”

Emma nods and sips on her coffee as Killian taps his fingers on the counter, the rhythm the same as the song he usually hums when cooking. “So, when are you heading for Storybrooke?” he asks.

“Monday after work.” Killian nods and keeps tapping his fingers, and Emma, stupidly opens her mouth because despite what her exes have told her, she does apparently have a heart. “If you don’t have any plans and have off work, you’re welcome to come with me. My parents are always thrilled to welcome more people. Just be prepared, it’s like a Hallmark movie up there.”

His eyes widen, the blue lighting up, and his upper lip starts to quiver, laughter very obviously waiting to break through. Dammit, why the hell did she decide to be nice? This is going to give him all of the wrong ideas.

“Why, Swan,” he smirks, leaning forward and resting his chin in his propped-up hand, “are you inviting me home for the holidays with you? You’ve been harboring a crush this entire time, haven’t you? I can’t say I’m surprised. I see the way you look at me when I finish up in the bathroom. Don’t be ashamed of it. Most women find me attractive.”

Emma flicks Killian’s forehead, and really, he should be thrilled she didn’t dump her hot coffee on his lap like she wanted to.

“I was just trying to be nice. You didn’t have to be an asshole about it.” Emma rolls her eyes and turns on her heels to walk away. She is going to her room. She doesn’t have to put up with his shit. “Forget I even offered.”

“Wait, wait, Swan.” Emma’s shoulders tense, and she doesn’t turn around. “Are you serious about your offer?”

“I mean, it would have some conditions in that you are a slightly less obnoxious version of yourself, but yeah, if you don’t have anywhere else to go, you can come home with me.”

“I’d like that.” Emma twists around, trying to size him up, and for once, everything seems genuine. “I have a condition as well.”

Idiot. “What could your condition possibly be?”

He winks, and she already knows this is going to have her eyes rolling so far into the back of her head they get stuck there. “Don’t go falling in love with me.”

What a cheesy ass sarcastic line.

“In your dreams, Jones.”

What the hell has she gotten herself into? This is absolutely the last time she lets her conscience guilt her into doing something nice. Emma was already going to be miserable, but now she’s miserable with a buffer.

At least her mom will be happy getting to go into hostess mode.

-/-

In the days leading up to them leaving for Storybrooke, Emma convinces herself Killian is going to back out of the trip. He’ll realize this is awkward and not a good idea. They live together, sure, but they don’t actually know each other. They’re not close friends.

But Killian never backs out. Instead he asks her things like what the weather is like there, if her parents drink wine, if he needs to bring his own bedding. He asks a million questions a day, and they continue when they’re in her bug making the drive from Boston to Storybrooke. He wants to know what her parents do for a living, what their hobbies are, pretty much everything someone needs to know when they’re about to spend half a week in the house of strangers.

Strangers who don’t actually know they’re having someone stay at their house to awkwardly sit on the sidelines as Emma’s family celebrates the holidays and has their usual holiday arguments.

Yeah, Emma didn’t ever tell her parents Killian was coming. She knows her mom well enough to know the moment Emma mentioned bringing someone home, her mom would have stopped listening before Emma could explain that it was just her roommate. It would have been this whole big thing, and Emma knows she can handle explaining it better in person when she can snap her mom out of getting excited about nothing.

Plus, who doesn’t want a Christmas surprise?

(Emma doesn’t.)

After Killian stops being one of those obnoxious kids who never stops asking questions, they sit in relative silence for the car ride, music entertaining them, and little by little, cities fade away and more trees pop up, evergreen forests surrounding them. It’s always the sign for Emma that she’s leaving her life and going back to her old one.

That and the “Welcome to Storybrooke” sign.

Everything about the town is the same. The buildings are small and kind of dingy downtown, and when she passes Granny’s, she bets those onion rings are the same too. God, she hopes they are. This is probably the only thing that can get her through this week. She should have texted Ruby and made sure her grandmother hadn’t changed any of the recipes. If she had, Emma definitely would have stayed home.

People walk down the sidewalk all bundled up in their coats and scarves, saying hello and chatting with others they pass. It’s the opposite of Boston where Emma can go her entire day without having to say hello to someone, and a little shiver runs down her spine at the thought. She needs to get out of here as soon as possible and to the isolation of her parents’ farmhouse, even if that presents her a new set of problems.

Storybrooke, Maine is, decidedly, not Emma’s favorite place for a hell of a lot of different reasons.

Killian, though, seems to be taking it all in with the wonder and confusion of someone who has never lived in a small town like this and who is a bit shell-shocked.

Get used to it, buddy.

“Oh, hey, one more thing,” Emma sighs as she pulls up to her parents’ street a few minutes later. “My real last name is Nolan. I changed it after high school, so my parents’ names are Nolan. The whole ‘Swan’ thing is a sticky situation for them even though it’s my mom’s maiden name.”

Killian’s eyes narrow, and she has definitely shared too much about herself now. “Am I allowed to ask or…”

“No. just try not to call me ‘Swan’ around them.”

“Whatever your heart desires, love.”

Emma slows down as the road turns from paved to loose gravel leading up to their driveway. There are several cars parked alongside it, and either they now own extra cars or her parents have friends over. Great. Just what she needed. Other people around when she’s coming home and surprising her parents with a guest. At least Killian will likely be that buffer she keeps hoping he’ll be.

They get out of her car, and Emma pops the trunk for them to get their bags. Killian grabs the bigger ones despite her arguing with him about it, but she’s fine to just carry her purse and the bag with presents. Emma closes the trunk, slamming it shut, and squares her shoulders.

This is fine. This is all fine.

Until ten steps later, it’s not.

Her parents have this incredible wraparound porch with swings and rocking chairs, and sitting in one of them is Neal Cassidy.

What the hell?

She doesn’t…she can’t…why is he here? He has no right to be here, no business being here, and seeing his face makes her want to vomit.

It makes her want to cry, too, but Emma can’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she’d like to sink into the dirt and never emerge again.

“Shit,” Emma mumbles, stopping and turning toward Killian who is looking down at her with an arched brow. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What is it?”

God, she can’t believe she has to tell this to him. It’s too many pieces of her past in too short a period of time. This isn’t something she ever wanted to talk about again and certainly not to Killian. She was really hoping she never had to see Neal’s face again.

Honestly, she never considered it to be a possibility.

If only.

“That guy sitting on my porch is an ex of mine. And I’m talking about a bad ex, not one of those who you can be friends with afterward.”

“What the bloody hell is he doing here then?” Killian looks over her head to look at Neal, but Emma grabs his hand and yanks on it until he looks at her. “What?”

“Don’t look at him,” she hisses. “I don’t know what he’s doing here, but I’m sure it has something to do with my parents. Just…I don’t know what to do.”

“Do we need to turn around?”

“No, no, that’s pathetic. Just…maybe he’s going to leave soon, and it’ll be a quick hello and then I never have to see his face again. Let’s get it over with.”

“If you’re sure, Sw – Emma.”

“I’m sure.”

She’s not sure at all. Mostly, she wants to take Killian’s suggestion and run far, far away.

Once more, Emma braces her shoulders, and she moves forward. If she stops and thinks too much, she’ll chicken out. It’s how she is. If she thinks about something for too long, it ruins every bit of courage she has. Now isn’t the moment for that when this week is one that makes her need courage.

Maybe, Emma realizes, she didn’t invite Killian here just to be nice. Maybe she needed that buffer to keep her old demons at bay, even if just barely, and that was her motivation all along.

That really makes her asshole of the year. Well, after Neal. She hasn’t seen him in years, but he still gets the asshole of the year award.

Neal sees her before she can get to the front steps. He rises from the rocking chair and moves toward her. He looks older now. He was always older than her, but she can actually see it now. There’s gray in his beard and more lines on his forehead. His features are similar, but she swears there’s an eeriness to his eyes and a lie to his smile. Maybe those were always there, but Emma imagines she was blind to it all when she loved him.

Amazing how opening her eyes to love blinded her to so much else.

“Emma? Is that you?”

No, jackass, it’s some other blonde woman walking into her parents house.

“Hi, Neal.” She forces a smile that she knows is awkward, but he was never good at reading her enough to know the difference between a real smile and a fake one. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve just seen me for the first time in half a decade, and your first question is what I’m doing here? Nice to see you too, Ems.”

It’s illegal to murder, Emma, she reminds herself. You don’t want to end up in jail because of him.

“It’s my parents’ house. I’m supposed to be here. You’re not. So, again, what are you doing here?”

He shrugs and ignores her. “Who’s this?”

Emma turns to Killian who is staring ahead, his jaw clenched, and he speaks before she gets a chance to. “Killian Jones,” he begins, dropping a bag and reaching forward to shake Neal’s hand, “Emma’s boyfriend.”

Emma nearly chokes on her own air and possibly her own lungs and whatever else is down there, and she’s stuck. Her brain and her feet and especially her mouth are all stuck. What the hell is he doing?

“Emma’s boyfriend,” Neal repeats, his voice incredulous like the fact that she could have a boyfriend is ludicrous to him. “Really?”

“For awhile now,” Killian lies. Wow. Has he always been this good of a liar? “It’s nice to meet you, but I think Emma and I need to get inside and put our stuff away. It’s been a long drive.”

Neal nods, but Emma catches his eyes glance over at her. What was that? “I understand. I need to get my fiancée from inside, but then we’ll be on our way.”

Fiancée?

Neal has a fiancée? Who is in her parents’ house?

What kind of upside down hell has she walked into and how does she reverse time and get back to the place where things are normal?

“Nice seeing you,” Emma lies, but Neal is already walking inside, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him as if it’s his house to go into. She quickly turns to Killian and hopes her face conveys the “what the hell” look she’s going for. And in case it doesn’t, she hisses, “what the fuck was that?”

“Forgive me, love, but you obviously didn’t want to see that man, and I figured there wouldn’t be any harm in saying that. You weren’t planning on ever seeing him again, aye?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“So what’s the harm in him thinking you have a devilishly handsome new boyfriend?”

Emma rolls her eyes, ready to take the piss out of him, when her mother comes running out the front door.

“Emma, you brought a boyfriend home?”

Well, that’s the harm, Jones.

-/-

Emma tries explaining to her parents that Killian isn’t really her boyfriend, that he’s just her roommate who came home with her because he doesn’t have any family, but she never really gets the chance with Neal still hanging around. That would be mortifying, so she rolls with it, hoping that she can clear it all up sooner rather than later.

But Neal never seems to leave.

His fiancée, Tamara, apparently teaches with Emma’s mom, and from the looks of it, they’re great friends. She can’t imagine any other reason why her parents would let Neal Cassidy in their house, but then again, they have always been great at doing the exact opposite of what’s good for her. It’s torture, and as the night goes on, it seems like it’s never going to end.

When are they going to leave?

When can she stop listening to Killian falsify their life?

She’s got to say that he’s fantastic at taking truths and turning them into lies. According to him, they met when he became her roommate (true) and got to know each other as friends first (eh, a half-truth). Then, slowly, feelings started to develop in the little moments, and they decided to give their relationship a chance (unequivocally false).

He’s got this uncanny ability to make everything feel…not ridiculous. She doesn’t know the word she’s searching for, but she’s sure as hell that Killian could find it and incorporate it into a story to make everyone here think they’re in love.

Emma has no clue how they’re going to get out of this without her parents being heartbroken because Emma can see the hope and happiness in her mom’s eyes. She’s over the moon. Her dad, however, doesn’t seem to be.

Of course this is how it goes. Her mom is thrilled because she’s not a spinster, and her dad is upset because she’s not a spinster.

“So what do you do, Killian?” he asks. “You need a roommate apparently.”

“Dad,” Emma hisses, wanting to sink into the couch, especially because she knows she’s the one who needs the roommate and not Killian. “Don’t.”

“What? I’m not allowed to ask about the man who my daughter is dating?”

“You are, but you’re not allowed to interrogate him.”

Killian places his hand over Emma’s on her thigh, and God, this really is the worst night. Why do people have to go home to family on the holidays? At least she didn’t automatically flinch at the feeling of Killian’s hand on hers.

“I’m a contractor,” Killian tells her dad. “I used to work with my brother. It’s his business, but I’m the head on projects now. It’s hard and unpredictable sometimes when my job is to make it predictable, but it’s good work. There’s a lot of good new housing popping up in the neighborhoods outside of Boston. Beautiful new construction.”

“What happened to your brother?” her mom asks.

Killian’s hand tightens over hers while his other hand scratches behind his ear. “Liam passed last year. Car accident.”

Mary Margaret places her hands over her chest while Neal and Tamara look at each other, obviously ready to go. Emma, meanwhile, tries not to act shocked. She should know this. She should know that he had a brother who died. She’s heard him talk about Liam before, but she thought…she thought he was alive, just that he lived really, really far away or something like that.

“I’m so sorry, Killian,” Mary Margaret sighs.

“Thank you, Ms. Nolan.”

Silence falls in the room, and it feels like a lot of her time in high school when she got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. At least now she can have alcohol or drive away. One or the other, though, obviously.

Or she can go back to that sinking into the ground thing. That seemed like a good idea.

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Tamara sighs with a clap of her hands. “Honey, we need to go.”

“Won’t you stay for dinner?” Mary Margaret asks.

What the hell, Mom?

“We really have to go,” Tamara insists. “It was nice seeing you guys, though.”

“Oh, it was wonderful seeing you, sweetie. Good luck in New York. You’re going to be great at your new job.” Mary Margaret hugs Tamara. “Nice seeing you as well, Neal. You’ll fit right in, but I know your dad will miss you.”

Emma is so busy trying to take in all of this brand new information that she doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Through blurred vision, she sees her mom hug Neal, and yeah, Emma wants to go home. She wants to go back to her apartment where she doesn’t have to put up with this kind of shit.

Where there’s no Neal and his fiancée and especially where her mom isn’t hugging her asshole of an ex and treating him like he’s a good person.

There’s a squeeze on her hand and suddenly, Killian’s fingers are wrapping around hers. That’s when everything snaps back, and she realizes Neal is telling her goodbye.

“Yeah, bye,” Emma mutters, putting on that fake smile again.

“Maybe we could go for lunch while I’m still in town,” he suggests.

Emma bites her tongue to keep from scoffing, but she can’t help the words that come out of her mouth. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Have fun in New York.”

Neal looks like a wounded puppy when Emma manages to look at him, but she doesn’t care. He shouldn’t have had the audacity to ask her in the first place, not after everything he’s done.

Happy holidays to them all.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret hisses as soon as the front door has shut and Neal and Tamara are gone, “that was so rude of you! You can go to lunch with Neal.”

“Oh my God, Mom,” Emma groans, letting go of Killian’s hand and standing up. “I am twenty-eight years old. I’m not going to go to lunch with the man who ruined my life because you don’t like being rude. Just…let’s eat dinner, and you guys can tell me what we have planned for this week. Killian is thrilled to go to the play. I told him all about it.”

“Emma, I still don’t think – ”

“Come on, Mary Margaret,” David sighs as he claps his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get these two dinner. They had a long drive, and I’m sure they’re starving. You like ham, Jones?”

“Love it,” Killian says as he stands from the couch. “Can I help with anything?”

“You can get a wine bottle from the rack.”

They’re all going to need it. Or at least Emma is going to.

Dinner is, well, awkward, which Emma expected, but she expected the usual awkwardness of having dinner with her parents after going a year without seeing them. This is an entire other level. Killian tries to ease it. He’s put on his most charming smile, his accent coming through thicker with each story he tells, and while her Dad seems put out, her mom is every bit as charmed by him as Emma would expect.

That makes it all fine and good until Emma’s reminded that her parents think Killian is her boyfriend, and his place would go down in flames if she told the truth now.

As much as she would like to spite her mom, that is the last thing she needs.

“So, Killian, you can stay in Emma’s room,” her mom says as they finish up dinner. “I’d have you stay in the guest room, but it’s currently filled with props and costumes for the play. But you're both adults. Who are we to keep you apart at night?”

“The couch would be fine,” Killian insists, holding his hands up.

“Nonsense, you are a guest here. You need to be comfortable. Let’s get you all settled and ready for bed.”

It’s almost like she’s in a trance as her mom guides them up the stairs to Emma’s old room. She vaguely hears her tell stories of different pictures hung on the wall by the staircase, but she doesn’t really notice. Instead, she hangs back with her dad who does not look thrilled at the whole situation.

For some reason that offends Emma. As far as her dad knows, she’s brought a man home for Christmas. A man who she loves enough to bring home, which is not all sunshine and roses for her. Once again, she’s jealous of the people who go home for the holidays and know it’s going to be a happy time.

“You know, you don’t have to act like I’m sixteen,” she tells her dad. “I live with this man. I think it’s okay for us to share a bedroom here for the week.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy about this. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Emma stops at the landing and turns to her Dad, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down. Or up. She forgot how much taller her dad is than her.

“Try a little harder to make that believable.”

David laughs and leans forward to kiss her forehead. “Welcome home, kid. I’m glad you and Killian are here.”

-/-

Tag list (You can be taken off or added at any time): @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @inth-trees @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @capthamm

#what a lie we're in #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)

Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)

Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending

Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really.

Word count: 3656

Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.

No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.

Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible.

Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice.

January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.

Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California.

Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.

Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.

“We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.

“Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to.

It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.

When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option.

As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.

Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.

Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.

It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.

It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.

But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight.

Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air.

Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow.

He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one.

“Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”

And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.

She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.

“This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”

Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.

“Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”

But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.

“Harry.”

Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her).

Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.

“I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”

“Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.

“I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips.

She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”

“Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”

“Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”

“What more does a person need?”

“Exactly!”

Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.

“I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”

“Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”

Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”

“See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”

That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.

“I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”

If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”

“Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”

He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”

“Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.

“But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”

Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”

And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”

“It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.

“Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”

“Opposites attract.”

“No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”

He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”

“I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”

“Do you love me?”

Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”

“Then that’s all I need.”

“Is that really enough for you?”

“Yes.”

And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.

Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Haz…”

Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.

He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).

His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.

“S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?

“Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’

‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.

“ ‘Ello?”

Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.

“Now?”

She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”

With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.

“Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer.

“Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."

“ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.

The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.

And Harry guessed this was the third time.

He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N.

“It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”

“I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”

“I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”

“ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”

“Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”

“Yeah.”

And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers.

He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway.

The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.

“Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”

With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.

And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.

What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’

Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.

She closed the door.

And smiled.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D

Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)

P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???

P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #golden #fine line #one direction #one direction imagine #1d #1d fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles and y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles and you #harry styles and reader

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago

Text

you’re the one that i want (part 13)

word count: 5k

angst

(part 12) (series masterlist)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21 ; @lokicaramel ; @ttalgimin ; @sakura-uji ; @songsoomin ; @toffee-hwa ; @deobitiful ; @hyunjeansuniverse ;

“your first meal back home and you’re not even gonna touch it?”

you look down at the chicken and rice in front of you, the scent alone making your stomach queasy. you haven’t been hungry since you woke this morning, the second your eyes fluttered open feeling your heart sink.

you felt seonghwa’s hand running through your hair, your face on his chest as you just laid there silently.

you knew he knew you were up by the way he kissed the top of your head, his deeply mumbled “morning, baby,” knotting your stomach even more; you knew it was gonna be the last time you heard that. the last time you woke up next to him and melted under his soft gaze and heard his voice in person.

“what time is it?” you asked quietly.

you both had been up until almost four in the morning, quietly talking and laughing as words just kept pouring out from your mouth.

about your first impressions of each other and wondering how you both had been coming here but never crossed paths until this year. about your fears for the upcoming school year and his crazy friends back home.

you were exhausted by the time the clock struck three but you couldn’t find in yourself to stop talking to him. to close your eyes and miss out on the last moments of time you had to spend with him.

“almost ten,” he mumbled in response. he can feel your pout against his chest, picking your head up and placing a kiss on your lips.

he’d woken up two hours prior and had just been watching you sleep, the calming inhale and exhale of your even breaths wafting against his skin. any time you whined sleepily or thrashed, all he had to do was run his hand through your hair and hum that he was here.

it made his heart soar but also crack a little bit, knowing that tonight, you’ll both be sleeping alone.

“oh,” you say, voice short and quiet and his adams apple bobs as he swallows down his sorrows.

you can’t speak in fear that you’re gonna start crying and you think you’ve cried enough over this goodbye. you’ve made him listen to your weeping and wipe your tears and no matter how much you want to, you can’t do it anymore.

you can’t put either of you through it anymore.

silence hangs between the both of you, his lips against your head and your arm wrapped around his waist as you lay in the sunlight. it’s just like any other day here, the hot summer sun shining and waves crashing and people laughing as they walk down to the beach.

“i have your number and you have mine,” his deep morning voice reminded you lowly.

he takes your face in his hand and makes you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as his eyes look down at you softly.

“i’ll answer whenever you call, okay? whenever you need me, i’ll be there.”

your lips press into one another so a tiny cry doesn’t leave you, simply nodding as tears burn behind your eyes. you watch his gaze roam over you but he doesn’t comment on the tears, just strokes your face gently and presses a parting kiss to your forehead.

it was the last kiss he gave you before the final one in your room, lips parted and your arms wrapped around his shoulders. it was full of desperation and love and left like a true goodbye kiss, his hand on the back of your head as he held you to his chest and told you you would talk soon.

you walked downstairs hand in hand, fingers intertwined and a sad silence between you before your aunt came over and hugged seonghwa goodbye. the two of them shared a knowing look that went unnoticed by you, too sad and upset to notice anything except the sinking feeling in your stomach and chest.

the same feeling in his as he hugs you one last time, kissing the top of your head with such a gentleness it makes you wanna let your building sob break free and cling on to him.

makes him wish you guys could just rewind back to that first day in june so you could have the summer again.

but summer is over and time travel isn’t possible. nor is it gonna be possible for him to go on like this, every shred of vulnerability he has completely exposed and leaving him ready to be even more hurt.

it took you just a few weeks to bring down the walls he’d put around himself and he knows, after the tears he’s gonna cry in his car in the next few seconds, he has to work extra hard to build them up again. forget about who you made him become while not forgetting about you.

but is that possible? can he actually do that? because with the way he’s barely able to pull himself away from you, he’s truly fearful for his emotional state during the next few weeks.

you watched him walk to his car before he waved goodbye, finally letting out the cry that was so desperate to leave your throat once he was out of sight. your aunt pulled you into a hug and told you everything was gonna be okay, that you and seonghwa’s feelings were true and nothing would change between you guys.

“i’m just not very hungry,” you mumble, looking at the plate as your fork scoops up pieces of rice.

the familiar clatter of utensils being slammed down on the glass causes you to jump and squeeze your eyes shut, half expecting something to be thrown across the table.

but nothing of the sort happens, your mom just stomps off and leaves you and your father alone. you don’t raise your eyes from the table, just continue to play with your food before sucking it up and shoveling it in your mouth.

“she talked about making this shit all morning for you,” your dad’s harsh voice finally says.

you look up to see disgust in his eyes, the words falling from his mouth making your stomach sink in guilt.

“she was excited for you to come back and see the new house but you’ve been nothing but an ungrateful bitch.”

you bite the inside of your cheek and let out a sigh, a quiet “sorry,” leaving you that just proves to make the man angrier. he lets out a scoff when you blink at him, swallowing nervously and feeling yourself shrink in your seat; you don’t like the look in his eyes because you know he’s about to rip into you.

“i don’t know what you’ve been doing at fucko’s house but you’re back here now, y/n, and we won’t tolerate your nonsense,” he growls at you.

you raise your eyebrow as you look up at him, the elapsed silence only making him grow more and more tense.

“we’re also expecting you to get a job now, maybe finally pitch in a little.”

you nod your head immediately because that’s not a problem at all; it’ll give you a reason to be out of this house even longer. and when he sees that you’re agreeing too easy, he’s quick to tell you not to make a fuss at your new school and to stay out of the way.

“this is a nicer area so keep to yourself.”

you swallow down the nervousness as you nod and know that he’s not gonna let you leave this table until you at least try to eat, his harsh, cold gaze on you successfully bullying you into eating.

when he gets up with a final grunt, you feel yourself relax. you take a few calming breaths in and out, itching to run into your room and talk to seonghwa; you were too nervous to text him first and hope that you’re gonna walk into your room with a message from him.

but after you throw out your food and clean your plate, you turn to see your mom in the doorway.

this kitchen, the whole house really, is a lot nicer than your old one. it’s bigger and has a more modern feel, the tall glass windows covered with nice white curtains because god forbid anyone saw what goes on in this house.

you see her looking at you with a blank expression and feel your stomach sink again thinking about her this morning. because if she really was excited for your arrival and planned that dinner for you, you completely blew your chances at starting your return on the right foot.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t hungry,” you say quietly. “i...the food was really good so thank you. but i really just wasn’t-”

“it’s fine,” she says shortly and you swallow at her snappy tone.

you look at the floor as you rock on your feet nervously, biting down on your lip before deciding to speak again; talking to a parent shouldn’t be this hard, the small talk should be natural and nice, like the way it is with your aunt.

“so...what’d you guys do this summer?”

her eyes narrow slightly at your question, turning her head to the side as she looks over you carefully. you feel more and more uneasy the longer she looks at you, her head leant lazily against the wall like she can’t hold herself up on her own.

“i think the better question is what did you do this summer,” she says and the vengeful tone in her voice makes you bite down on yor lip. “with your fun, amazing spectacular aunt that can do no wrong.”

your face drops at the bitterness that seeps into her tone, looking at her with furrowed eyebrows as you swallow the lump in your throat. and just because she’s petty and needs to get another little dig in, you hear her mutter “i bet you ate all of her food.”

you let out a humorless laugh, one of just utter disbelief really because it all just seems so surreal.

you’d been dealing with some of the nicest people you’d ever met and that was weird to you; but now this is weird, adjusting to the way you used to live before summer started and dealing with stupid little digs from your grown parents.

“mom, i just wasn’t hungry. it had nothing to do with-”

“whatever, y/n,” she snaps.

the words die in your throat and you can only look at her, wide-eyed and begging for her to just let it go for tonight. to let your first night in the new house be relatively incident free; and it would’ve been if she hadn’t mentioned something about her visit there.

“wasn’t only your aunt keeping you company either it seemed.”

you bite down on your wobbling lip as you look at her, shaking your head because the last thing you wanna do right now is talk about him. but she must see the pain in your eyes and know immediately what happened, a smirk spreading right across her face.

because she saw the way you all but jumped to go over to the dirty blonde boy when they visited that july day, heard your lowly spoken whispers and saw the way he looked about ready to kill for you.

“was he your boyfriend?”

when you don’t answer, only blink at her as your stomach starts to churn even more, she lets out a groan like you’re being overdramatic and keeping gossip from her.

“c’mon, isn’t this what mothers and daughters do? tell me all about your summer romance.”

you wanna snap at her that you haven’t done any mother daughter activities before this so why start now? that she never cared to ask about your life before this so why now over something that’s obviously upsetting to you?

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

your short tone causes her eyes to narrow, eyebrow quirked up and you know she’s just gonna try to get back at you for not eating her food tonight.

it’s why she keeps going on and on, asking if he took you on a dates and if you exchanged numbers. if your aunt approved of him and if you guys all sat around the table like a happy little family.

“i said i don’t wanna talk about it,” you finally snap.

and probably because she’s never heard you fight back before, it takes her a second to respond. for her vengeful, mocking look to turn into one of anger before she stomps toward you and slaps you right across the face.

the harsh sting on your cheek causes you to wince, tears burning your eyes as you remember that this is it; you’re home now and they’re not gonna let you forget it. they hold the control and power over you until you’re quite and docile and the shell of a person you were three months ago.

to not give them any trouble or talk or express your feelings, just act solely like a piece of furniture they can ignore and forget about.

“really must’ve hurt leaving him since you’ve been such a little shit today,” your mom growls lowly.

your teary eyes meet hers and they hold not an ounce of remorse, just a hot anger and disgust because she was trying. she was trying to connect with you and how dare you deny her? she knows you were talking to her fabulous sister with no problem.

“i hope for your sake he doesn’t forget all about you,” she sneers, “but something tells me he’s gonna.”

you fight the tears threatening to leave your eyes before she raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes roaming your red stinging cheek. you can’t help but flinch away when she lifts her hand up, soothingly running over the mark on your skin.

“that’s just how those things work, sweet girl.”

you bite down on your lip harder so you don’t cry or scream, simply swallowing the lump in your throat as you move your head away from her. she lets out a scoff as you do so, looking over you coldly one last time before turning around wordlessly.

you feel ready to completely break down right there in the kitchen when she’s gone, walking straight to your new room that’s in complete disarray.

much to your surprise, your bed frame and dressers were actually set up. but your mattress was bare and boxes and boxes of your clothes and furniture litter the floor.

you only tackled half of it when you got home and you certainly don’t feel like doing it now, laying face down on your mattress as you try to calm yourself.

it’s the first day and you’re all just getting used to each other again; it’s gonna be an adjustment for all of you. you’re gonna have to remember to just keep your mouth shut the way you used to to avoid injury - pick your battles and speak up for yourself at the right moments.

your phone vibrating on your bedside table causes you to jump up frantically, snatching your phone and the tight knot in your stomach immediately vanishes when you see two messages from seonghwa; you bite down on your lip so you don’t squeal or giggle too loudly when you open them.

seonghwa [7:42] hey baby

seonghwa [8:27] don’t tell me you forgot about me already

you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, thumbs frantically working to write back a message.

and it’s with your heart racing and palms sweating that you think maybe this could work out for you guys. that even if you’re back in such a toxic, draining environment, they’ll be at least one good thing in your life getting you through it.

“and she PUKED on him! like legit all over him, chunky and disgusting. i didn’t even think that was-”

“wait, mingi! this fuck’s not even listening!”

“he hasn’t been listening all week!” wooyoung exclaims, knocking into seonghwa’s arm as the boy smirks down at his phone. “he’s been talking to his summer lover with the golden pussy.”

seonghwa’s head snaps up and he kicks the boy in the leg, wooyoung falling back with a grunt that causes the others to laugh.

“shut the fuck up.”

mingi and yeosang share a knowing smirk with one another, seonghwa raising an eyebrow when he sees the look on their faces; because just as he predicted, his friends were obnoxious.

they greeted him his first day back excitedly, wooyoung and yeosang tripping over and hitting into one another to tackle him in a hug before mingi’s towering figure completed knocked them away with loud whines and grunts.

seonghwa only rolled his eyes and pat their backs awkwardly, the boys asking how his beach town was before he could even get out a hello.

“the same,” he told his friends as they spread out on mingi’s couch, seonghwa pushing yeosang out of his spot on the sectional before plopping down.

dick,” yeosang grunted, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his friend’s tone. “and when are you gonna let us come one year?”

“yeah!” mingi whines, “we wanna go to the beach.”

“never,” seonghwa says.

because the last thing he thinks he can deal with is his summer friends and his school friends meeting. he doesn’t know which group is more headache inducing so seeing them together? his absolute worst nightmare.

“oh, c’mon,” wooyoung whines, daringly jumping on the chaise where seonghwa’s legs rest. “then we can meet your friends. and see all the girls you hook up with on the beach.”

seonghwa rolls his eyes despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, knocking his foot into the boy. “i don’t know what you’re even talking about. i don’t hook up with anyone there.”

and it was that blatant lie right there that got the boys intrigued, adding on to the fact that he’d been all but attached to his phone since his return; smirking down and checking it immediately after it vibrated.

it took four days of their whining and screaming and nosy eyes to tell he’d hung out with one girl.

he didn’t want them to know the extent of it, to know how he completely changed this summer and allowed himself to fall for you; but it felt gross, diminishing what you guys had as he told them you guys “hung out.”

and when wooyoung nosily asked if you hung out and did other things, seonghwa only raised an eyebrow and it sent the immature boys squealing.

“are you ever gonna tell us more about her?” wooyoung asks, his hand in a bag of chips as he can’t help but be nosy.

they’d all been in able to sense something different in their friend, the way he’s being so cryptic about his summer and avoiding the topic of girls.

“there’s nothing to tell,” he says, locking his phone and sticking it in his back pocket. “she was cool and we had fun but there’s nothing more to it.”

he hates how easily he lies through his teeth, making it seem as if you were just a small part of his summer opposed to everything. everything had revolved around you.

“then why are you texting her?” yeosang asks, a smirk on his face as he looks at seonghwa unconvinced. but the dirty blonde can only roll his eyes and not say a word, giving the boy a dead stare that tells all of them he’s not gonna give them an answer.

“i’ll tell you why,” wooyoung says, “she’s got him pussy whipped. i never thought we’d see the day, guys but here it is. seonghwa’s balls are in a jar and now he’s gonna be a little bitch.”

“pussy whipped by a virgin?” seonghwa blurts out sarcastically and he doesn’t even realize what he’s said it until it’s too late. until he sees the wide eyed look from his friends, a mix of disbelief and amusement glinted in their eyes. until he feels right in his heart and stomach that he already fucked up.

“a virgin? are you fuckin’ nuts!” mingi yelps. “no wonder she’s texting you nonstop!”

seonghwa rolls his eyes and shrugs, ignoring the way his stomach sinks because talking about you like that doesn’t feel right at all.

you had been nothing but honest and trusting with him during that time and it was something he cherished so why the fuck did he just blurt that out like it was some conquest?

but then he remembers this is what happens. that this summer he wasn’t himself; he isn’t kind or thoughtful or capable of love. he fucks around with his friends and they’re known to be bad, to break girls (and maybe some boys) hearts and use them without any regard for another person.

“how did you even let that happen?” yeosang asks in disbelief; they all knew it was like an unspoken rule to never get with someone like that. that almost always, they need to coddled afterward and get attached.

seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, popping his neck to the side as he looks at his friends. “just did,” he hums lowly, wanting so desperately to talk about something else; his phone vibrates against the couch and all the boys let out amused snorts.

“well i bet you’re regretting that shit now,” wooyoung laughs out, yelping suddenly when yeosang smacks him in the back of the head.

“stop hogging the bag fat boy!”

seonghwa smirks hearing his friends fighting, ignoring the way his hands are itching you look at the two unread messages in his back pocket. but he'll get back to you later, he thinks, he can't be completely consumed by you anymore.

no matter how much he wants to be.

you woke up for your first day of school more nervous than usual. and that’s pretty bad, given the way the three weeks in this house have completely drained you.

the tension and prickly feeling that comes with living with your parents came back full force, reduced you to the meek and timid girl you were before; the only time you felt okay was when you talked to seonghwa.

smiling and feeling yourself relax immediately at the sound of his voice, his deep words and occasional chuckle making the knots in your stomach disappear for just a little bit.

“you find a job yet?”

you’d been keeping him updated on your job search for the past few weeks, applying to cafes and restaurants and movie theaters all over your new town.

you’d just about given up in a fit of frustration, accept whatever punishment your parents had for not being able to pitch in, when a cafe down the block from your new school called you back.

“i did! a cute little cafe, it’s down the block from my new school too.”

“that’s good,” he says, smiling to himself at the way you sound hopeful and positive; it’s the happiest he’s heard you sound in these last few weeks, your voice quiet and mousy that way he was once so used to.

“you start tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” you tell him quietly, feeling nerves flood through your stomach at the thought of tomorrow morning. “i’m scared.”

“no need to be, baby, it’ll be fine. you walked around the other day, yeah?”

you nod your head as you tell him more about the school, how big and daunting it seemed even though it wasn’t much different than your other one. your counselor seemed nice too, walking you through the building and giving you your schedule early so tomorrow would go a little smoother.

“see, so you’ll be okay,” he says to you softly.

you let out a small sigh as you nod your head, the both of you talking quietly until you tell him you should shower and get ready for bed. he says goodbye and wishes you good luck tomorrow, reminding you that if anything really gets that bad, you can always text him.

“wait. but don’t you start tomorrow, too?”

“yeah,” he says flatly, “so?” and when the silence lapses he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth as warmth spreads through his chest. “oh, baby don’t tell me you’re gonna say i shouldn’t text during school hours.”

your conversation with seonghwa did little to calm your nerves though. because the whole time you’re getting ready and walking to school the next morning, your mind is racing.

wondering what the people are like and how they’re gonna treat you. will they be indifferent to your presence or target you, sense your vulnerability and exhaustion and make it even worse?

you recognize the building when you’re just down the block, seeing a flood of cars dropping off students into the mass of other bodies. people are laughing and hugging and smiling as they reunite, a seemingly pleasant scene that you wish you yourself could take part in. reuniting with friends and hearing about their summer as you excitedly walk into school with bumping arms.

but instead you fumble and try to avoid the other bodies, wincing when you walk right through a big group of people with a quiet “sorry.”

you’re looking down at the schedule you wrote in your phone when you hit into someone’s body, a tiny squeal leaving your mouth as your heart immediately drops into your stomach.

“i’m sorry,” you repeat to the boy quietly, watching him turn around and look down at you. his lips quirk up in a small smirk when he sees your face, your pink cheeks and roaming eyes a dead give away you’re nervous and flustered so it’s probably your first day.

“it’s okay,” he smiles. “you new?” but he already knows that, he’s never seen you here before.

you press your lips together as you nod, biting down on your lip when an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth. “yeah, is it that obvious?”

“painfully,” he says and your blushing cheeks immediately cause him to laugh. “i’m kidding. just watch where you’re going next time, yeah?”

your face drops when you hear those words ring in your head, except it’s seonghwa’s voice on the beach on that first day. when you saw him and then bumped into him on your walk, so shy and frazzled by his sharp gaze on you.

the boy can’t even say another word before you nod your head and smile shyly, making your way around him and into the building. he watches your back as you walk into the school, a quiet hum leaving his mouth because that’s very interesting.

you looked to be about his age, he wonders if you’re in the same grade and how everyone is gonna-

“wooyoung! the fuck are you doing just standing there?”

the boy rolls his eyes at mingi’s shouting, making his way over to the tree they always hang out under before class. the cigarette buds are a dead giveaway it’s their spot, seonghwa sitting against the wooden rail as he looks up at the boy.

“a girl bumped into me, think she’s our age and new,” he tells them, mingi and yeosang’s eyes widening as seonghwa looks questioningly at him; his eyes travel to where wooyoung was standing just a few seconds ago.

he feels something settle in the pit of his stomach, like nervousness or apprehension. because there’s no way. there’s no fucking way.

“was she hot?” the tallest boy asks, seonghwa rolling his eyes as he lights up his morning cigarette; this was another bad habit he immediately started up again after returning home.

"eh. not my type. a little too timid."

“or a little too girly.”

wooyoung smirks at yeosang’s comment before shrugging his shoulders, stealing the pack of cigarettes from his hand that immediately causes the boy to shout.

the ruckus pulls seonghwa's attention away from the yard and back to his friends, mingi noticing his set jaw and bouncing leg. but before he can comment on it, the ten-minute warning bell blares from inside.

they all put out their cigarettes and make their way inside as they talk about how crazy and stupid it was that they all had the same homeroom; they bet that within the first week of school, they’ll be separated and put into four different classrooms.

you heard the ten minute bell, courtesy of your counselors warning, when you were at your locker and thought you had perfectly planned everything out. you had ample time to open your locker, run to the bathroom and walk to your class in an uncharacteristically relaxed manner.

but an error on your schedule with your locker combination had you almost in the midst of a full blown anxiety attack, doing it over and over a hundred times before scurrying down to the office and telling them about your problem.

it took them about twenty minutes to get the situation sorted, telling you to go your class and that it’ll all be sorted out by the time you’re done; and while you were grateful for that, you now had to walk into class ten minutes late. with everyone’s curious eyes on you and a horrible first impression to your homeroom teacher.

you took deep breaths and tried to calm your shaky hands, wiping your clammy skin on your shirt as you stand in front of the door. you make eye contact with the teacher sitting at the desk and she gestures for you to come in, swallowing the lump in your throat as you do so.

“can i help you?”

“h-hi, i’m sorry i’m late. i...i’m a new student but there was a problem with my locker. i have this pass from the-”

“it’s okay, just take a deep breath,” she says softly, her smile and kid tone immediately making you relax. but you’re still all too aware of the eyes on you, your shaky voice and stutter already embarrassing you.

“what’s your name?”

“_____”.

you hear people whispering but do your best to ignore it, instead listening to her tell you where to sit and welcoming you to the school.

“there’s a empty seat toward the back. wooyoung, can you raise your hand?”

“we meet again new girl,” you hear the teasing voice say, snapping your head to the side and feeling a blush creep on you cheeks - of course it’s the boy you bumped into; what kind of sick luck is that? that the person you embarrassed yourself in front of already just happens to be in-

a familiar shade of dirty blonde catches your eye and you can’t control the small gasp that leaves you. because there park seonghwa sits just a few seats away, staring right at you with a look you’d never seen in his eye before.

you feel like your heart is about to explode out of your chest, blinking in disbelief because you almost think you’re seeing things. but then as you continue to stare at him, you see that’s he not disappearing. he’s meeting your stare and looking right back at you and it brings a smile to your face.

but then you feel your heart drop when his remains blank, squinting his eyes and raising a brow as if to say what the fuck are you doing here? you cock your head to the side as the smile falls from your face, looking at him in confusion as hurt swirls in your chest before the teacher calls your name.

“y/n?” she asks softly.

you tear your gaze away from seonghwa and swallow the panic and confusion down, shaking your head as you mutter what feels like your 100th apology today.

you walk to where wooyoung is sitting and immediately plop down, feeling your hands shake as you sink into your seat and try to figure out why seonghwa looked like he just saw a ghost.

mingi and yeosang watched the whole exchange between you two, the latter boy catching seonghwa’s face when you sat down. he ran his hands through his hair and his leg started bouncing frantically, jaw clenched and eyes wide before yeosang kicked his foot.

“hey,” he whispers lowly, watching the storm of emotions in his friend’s dark eyes. “what the fuck was that? do you two know each other?”

(part 14)

#thank you for 1k followers <33 #im sorry to celebrate by hurting u guys :(#this is also about the time they'd be singing summer nights <3 #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #ateez #ateez angst #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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caswellprmanager · 3 years ago

Text

drawbridge

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

Summary: Snippets of EJ Caswell's life leading up to the mystery that is Ricky Bowen.

Notes: Hello. I decided to bite the bullet and post something here! This technically is in my Trans!EJ and Genderqueer!Ricky AU but I haven't properly written anything for it yet so consider this one to be the first official fic within that universe. Feel free to send some asks or other headcanons in my inbox about the AU! I'd love to hear what people think (but don't be unnecessarily mean. I will delete that very quickly.)

Disclaimer: I'm not an expert in all things transgender or genderqueer. I am writing from my own experience within the spectrum however so it's truthful to what I have been through, but will not represent everyone else's experiences. I also have friends within the spectrum who have given me great advice on how to go about these things but once again, it won't be accurate to everyone's experiences.

Warnings: Mentions of gender dysphoria, transphobia, and neglectful parents

People always told EJ that he had the picture perfect family.

His mom and dad were successful corporate lawyers, they lived in the wealthiest suburb in all of Salt Lake City, and he was the kind of child other parents would compare their own children to saying, "why can't you be more like EJ?"

But EJ knows that's farthest from the truth.

He doesn't have the picture perfect life or the paragon of White American families that people think they do. His parents are affectionate and supportive only when there are people around to comment on it. Most of the time, they're not even at home, leaving all of the child raising to their maids and other house servants. EJ spends more time at Ashlyn's house than he does at home because at least his aunt and uncle actually treat him like a son.

Because there are days his parents would forget they have a son. Sometimes they'd slip and call him their daughter, which makes EJ want to disappear from this world altogether. He supposes he should be grateful that they even bothered to pay for all the things he asked for — binders, testosterone shots, and regular visits to the doctor to check up on him throughout his transition. And he is grateful. He knows so many kids like him that can't even afford a decent sized binder without going bankrupt. He used to be that kid until he gathered up all his courage to come out to his parents.

But what they told him?

"Well, if you're gonna be our son, you will have to work twice as hard to make us proud now."

Yeah. It's a lot to process when you're 12 years old and scared shitless that you'd be disowned for "disrupting the natural order." But he figures things could be worse. So he sucks it up and vows to become the kind of son that his parents could truly brag about.

When EJ was a kid, he loved mysteries. His parents were the greatest mystery of them all. He's spent so much of his time trying to figure out what makes them happy, or angry, or sad. He's put the clues together and has a cork board of pictures and red string at the forefront of his mind whenever he so much as tries to interact with them. Soon, he sort of figured out what makes his parents smile at him — when EJ is excellent.

So, he became excellent at all kinds of sports, took up piano lessons, studied until his eyeballs burned with the lowlight of his desk lamp — all so that he could maybe get a pat on the back from his dad and a small smile from his mom. Their versions of "good job" or "keep it up." He drank that all in, craved it even, and worked his whole life until now to get even an iota of his parents' affection.

So, when he meets Ricky Bowen, the lanky and extremely clumsy skater who seems to live in the detention room, he was met with a brand new mystery to solve.

"Who's that?" EJ whispers into Nini's ear, who just seems to be irritated by the new person's presence.

"That's Ricky," she says with the barest hint of affection but with a whole lot of irritation. "My ex."

"Huh," He says, intrigued by the way Ricky's movements stutter like a half-finished stop motion film and how their wide doe eyes scan the room like — unironically — a deer in headlights. They looked nervous, confused, and all around terrified and EJ wants to reach out to them and tell them that this was a safe space. That they could be whoever they wanted to be in the theater.

He glances at Nini when Ricky starts singing a song that she seems to recognize. The immediate tensing of her shoulders and the way she subconsciously reaches out for EJ's hand for support tells him that this song... means something. Or meant something. EJ's not quite sure but he squeezes Nini's hand in silent reassurance, bringing himself to half-glare at the guitar playing skater just a few feet before him.

He met Nini during theater camp. A firecracker of talent with a voice that could melt the heart of even the coldest man on earth. She was beautiful in the spotlight and even more ethereal beneath the stars. She was kind, gentle, and a mystery that EJ solved quickly enough. She wore her heart on her sleeve despite it being broken because she believes that broken hearts can be mended with time and patience.

Nini was patient with him. She was patient with him when he took her up the little hill next to the campsite just to watch the stars on an old picnic blanket he stole from the camp counselors. She was patient with him when he couldn't keep up with the dance steps. Her hand was warm in his own and the flush of her palm by his neck was a grounding force that kept his head from going in the clouds.

She was especially patient with him when he took her to an empty tent and told her about his life. Nini was kind. Nini was patient. Nini was safe. And if she were to walk away and tell him that she wanted nothing to do with him after what he told her, he would have understood and learned to not associate kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers to what could be barely described as home.

But she held his hand in her tinier ones, a smile on her face that radiated warmth that seeped into the depths of his soul, and told him that she was proud of him.

It was the first time that someone was proud of him... for just being him.

He cried into her arms that night, knowing he's got a lifelong friend within the kind brown eyes and ukulele calloused fingers of one Nini Salazar-Roberts.

"She thinks I'm a Chad?" He asks, less incredulously and more with a burning curiosity.

Nini rubs his arm comfortingly but he keeps staring at the cast list like it was going to burst into flames any second. "You're still a Troy understudy! You could still go on as him in one of the shows."

"Shows only run for three nights, Nini." He says with barely concealed frustration. Great. If he can't even get the role he was technically destined to play, how the hell is he going to explain himself to his parents?

You're not the lead? Oh, then we won't watch. If you're not onstage the whole time, why be there?

EJ grits his teeth and slowly brings his gaze to the person who has just taken away one more way for him to prove himself to his parents. Ricky Fucking Bowen, who stands there once again with their enormous brown eyes, gaping like a fish. EJ wants to deck them in the face. But Nini's hold on his arm grounds him back to reality and he lets out a long breath through his nose.

This is gonna be a long next few months.

"Look, I'm just trying to make the best out of a bad situation."

"Don't try," He ends up saying, still wiping at the blood caused by the basketball Ricky hit him with only moments ago. "It's painful to watch you do something you clearly don't want to do."

"What makes you think I don't want to do this?" Ricky asks with furrowed brows and EJ throws the wadded up tissue paper stained with his blood into the trash.

"You hated musicals before you auditioned. You landed the part of Troy without even fucking trying. And now you think you can get through rehearsals without fucking trying? It's tiring to work with someone who couldn't give two shits about this musical in the first place!" He says, every sentence rising in volume as he steps closer and closer to Ricky. "You also need to stay the fuck away from Nini."

Ricky scoffs then. "Why? Cause you're her boyfriend?"

"What? And you are?" He retaliates, which effectively makes Ricky click their mouth shut. EJ smirks. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

"Nini can choose whoever she wants to talk to." Ricky ends up saying with tense shoulders and a glare that could murder if EJ weren't already a person who doesn't fear death. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Well someone has to!" EJ throws his hands up in frustration, grabbing his jacket and zipping it up angrily. "Because you don't listen to Nini though, do you? Have you ever listened to her? Do you listen to anybody?"

"EJ I—"

"You better listen to me right now Ricky Bowen," he laces every syllable of Ricky's name with venom. "Stop trying to make things right. Stop trying to become a person you're not. If you actually cared about Nini or – god forbid – the musical, you'd stop trying and just get your shit together."

EJ doesn't even bother to look back at Ricky as he exits the bathroom, unaware of the look in Ricky's eyes when he walked away.

It isn't until Ricky approaches him one day after rehearsals that EJ was finally starting to unravel the mystery that was Ricky Bowen.

"Hey... EJ?" Ricky asks, looking at anywhere but at him and EJ would have been annoyed if it weren't for the way Ricky was holding themselves in front of him. They were tense, eyes glassy and unfocused whenever EJ caught a glance, and their fingers were gripping their bag straps so tightly that he was afraid Ricky was going to rip it apart if they weren't careful.

"Hey Ricky," He says with a softer voice than he's ever used with Ricky. "Is there something you need?"

Ricky's eyes dart around the still full rehearsal room, at the dangerously close proximity Miss Jenn was, at the stage managers that were just behind EJ who were reviewing the blocking notes, and finally at Nini who was engaged in a conversation with Carlos and Seb. Ricky's eyes lingered on Nini for a bit before they reluctantly settled on EJ's pristine white sneakers. "I would have normally asked Nini for this but – and you can say no by the way I'd completely understand – it's just..."

Ricky looks around again before leaning closer to EJ and shakily whispering, "Do you have any tampons?"

And just like that, the walls that were built around a certain Ricky Bowen were starting to crack. And EJ was allowed to see the smallest snippet of the kind of vulnerability that Ricky was capable of.

And it was the kind of vulnerability that he could relate to completely.

"My emergency stash is in my locker," He says, hastily packing up the rest of his things while Ricky continues to stand there dumbfounded. When EJ turns back to him with his own bag over his shoulder, he could see that there are a few unshed tears shining in Ricky's eyes. EJ softens for a second, knowing how difficult it must have been for Ricky to come to him for something so private.

"Come on. I'll even guard the bathroom for you." Ricky eventually follows him after a few seconds of just staring at his back and they fall in step around the corner. Ricky stays silent, fingers all fidgety and eyes still darting around like they'll be caught any second. EJ, instinctually, wraps a comforting arm around Ricky's shoulders. Ricky doesn't relax immediately but they do lean a little closer, somehow finding the weight of EJ's arm around them safe.

They eventually reach EJ's locker and Ricky smiles a bit because it's directly across from Sharpay's famous pink lockers. "Did you choose this spot specifically for Sharpay's lockers?"

EJ glances behind him and chuckles, rummaging through his stuff. "Oh yeah. If you say Ashley Tisdale three times in a row while touching her locker, you're guaranteed good fortune for at least a week."

Ricky looks at him with a smirk. "Have you tried that before?"

"Every year during finals week. I'm telling you, that shit works."

"Or maybe you're just really smart."

"Maybe," EJ says, finally locating his emergency stash of period essentials. "Or maybe it's just Ashley Tisdale bopping me to the top."

That's when Ricky lets out a laugh — an honest to god booming belly laugh that makes EJ pause just to stare at him. They look... nice like this. Without the worry lines and longing gazes at a girl who won't give them the time of day. They look just like a little kid, carefree and alive despite the world crumbling all around them, and EJ feels a weird surge of pride at being the person who made Ricky laugh like that.

He wants Ricky to laugh like that more. He wants to be the person who makes Ricky laugh like that more.

And so the walls around Ricky crack a little further, and the drawbridge is opened for one weary traveler to come in.

EJ doesn't notice the cracks on his own walls, nor the knowing little princess who watches from the east tower, smiling.

"Hey, what are your pronouns?"

Ricky doesn't look up from their practice skateboard, concentrating hard on their balance. "I don't have any. I'm just Ricky." They look up though, giving EJ a warm smile. "But go ahead and use any pronouns with me. I don't mind if it's you."

"So would you mind if I call you your majesty?"

EJ doesn't miss the flush on Ricky's cheeks at that and definitely doesn't miss the way they say "I'd like that very much." with the barest hint of embarrassment.

"Okay," EJ says with his chin propped up in his hands. "Your majesty."

Ricky falls off of their practice skateboard then, soon glaring up at a cackling EJ still with a blushing face.

EJ forgot his binder today.

And his body loved reminding him every time he took a step.

Thankfully, there wasn't going to be water polo practice today and he could get away with wearing multiple layers to school. But even with the sports bra, the t-shirt, the sweatshirt, and the letterman jacket doing a good job at making his chest look flat, he still felt his skin crawl looking at the mirror. His jeans hugged him a little too tightly, forcing him to notice the still feminine curve of his hips. His sports bra was a tad smaller than the last time he wore it, so the pinch at his chest doubled in size.

EJ resolved that he was not going to have a good day today.

But today was tech rehearsals and he couldn't ditch that. He was starting to really enjoy rehearsals now that he and Ricky are on good terms. Even the stage managers ask him to hang out with them time to time outside of rehearsals. EJ actually felt like... he really belonged somewhere now. And he wasn't going to let this ruin it for him. Not today.

"Hey EJ," He heard Nini say to him as he got out of his car. "What's with all the layers? It's pretty hot today."

"It's one of those days, Neens." He says with a heavy sigh and Nini just grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Ricky rolls up to them two seconds later, their head suspiciously missing a helmet.

"How many times do I have to tell you to wear a helmet when you're skateboarding, Ricky?" EJ tries to scold the junior despite this weirdly overwhelming fondness growing inside of him every time he even looks at Ricky now.

"Haven't gotten into an accident yet," Ricky shrugs, smiling politely at Nini and changing it into a cocky little smirk the second they look at EJ.

"Yet being the operative word here," EJ rolls his eyes and opens his trunk for Ricky to stash his board in for later. "I won't drive you to the hospital if you end up getting a concussion for not wearing a helmet."

"Yes you will." Ricky says, knocking their shoulders together. "You love me!"

EJ freezes for a bit but before he could even respond, Ricky is already catching up to Big Red and Gina, waving back at EJ and Nini with a wide grin. EJ stares at him for a few seconds, not quite sure how to process the last few moments, until Nini waves a hand in front of his face.

"Hello? Earth to EJ?"

"Huh?"

"Care to share with the class what's going on?" The little smirk on her lips says it all and EJ was not going to fall for that.

"Nope. There's nothing to share."

"Mhm," She says, looping her arm around EJ as soon as he closed his trunk. "Of course there isn't, EJ." Nini pretends not to see EJ staring at Ricky as they walk into school. EJ pretends to not notice that she's pretending to not see EJ pretending to not overtly stare at Ricky.

Besides, EJ has gotten pretty good at pretending.

Aaaannndd that's it for now. I hope you guys liked that! I really enjoyed exploring trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky through this au and it means a lot to me. Maybe next time I'll write something in ricky's pov but for now thanks for reading !!

#ej caswell #ricky bowen #nini salazar roberts #rj #hsmtmts #trans!ej #genderqueer!ricky #tw: gender dysphoria #tw: transphobia #tw: neglectful parents #cloud's writing now #hsmtmts fanfiction #they're not really together yet here but #ej is Definitely pining at the end tho #and nini is the best i will not tolerate nini slander in my blog #caswen #ricky x ej #ej x ricky

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briefinquiries · 4 years ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Thanksgiving Dinner

Description: You invite Luke home for Thanksgiving dinner.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: sorry i suck at updating! but here’s a fluffy thanksgiving fic. i hate this holiday, but love luke so enjoy!!! (obviously this fic is pre Covid times, so keep ur distance and stay at home y’all)

“It’s just dinner, Luke! And my family really wants to meet you. Please?” You beg again, sitting up again to look into Luke’s eyes pleadingly. The two of you were cuddled up in Luke’s apartment watching a rerun of a show you’d already seen. You had one of his throw blankets wrapped around you, but still shivered. Luke always kept his apartment freezing. Something to do with the fact that he was literally a human furnace.

“Thanksgiving dinner is supposed to be a family thing,” Luke sighs. “I don’t want to impose. Why can’t we just do dinner any other day?” He asks. You frown at him, and furrow your eyebrows, your signature sign of annoyance.

You had only been dating Luke for about six months now, but Luke can read you like an open book. He knows all of your little expressions and mannerisms.

“Because,” you groaned, like that’s the only explanation you need to give. Luke raises his eyebrows, so you continue.

“Because that’s the only time my whole family will be there and I want you to meet all of them,” you huffed, falling back against Luke’s headboard, a few inches between the two of you now. “I don’t understand why you won’t just come.”

“Baby,” Luke chuckles, reaching over and pulling you back into his side, like you had been sitting just a moment ago.

When your frown doesn’t go away, Luke sighs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you ask.

“Okay, I’ll do Thanksgiving.”

You smile smugly, and lean back into Luke’s side. “Thank you,” you murmured. Luke gives your side a slight squeeze.

“You're lucky I like you so much,” Luke chuckles.

...

Luke straightens his shirt in the mirror one more time, making sure his hair is intact and his shirt wasn’t too wrinkly. He really, really wants your family to like him, and if he doesn’t look perfect or say exactly the right thing, he knows he’ll blow it.

He’s gone with a dark blue button down, one of your favorites. He picked out his best pair of pants and even trimmed his beard so that it looked clean and presentable.

There’s a knock on the door as soon as he’s finished tucking his shirt into his pants, and he lets out a long breath before he goes to answer it. He checks his teeth in the mirror beside the coat closet before he opens the door, finding you waiting for him in the hallway.

You both just kind of stare at each other for a long moment.

You have on a white sweater and dark pants. Your hair sits perfectly on top of your head in a big bun.

Luke breaks the silence first, reaching out to pull you into his chest. He kisses you softly. “You look great,” he murmurs against your lips.

“So do you,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be late if we don’t get going now. Are you ready?” you asked, reaching for Luke’s hand when he nods. Luke allows you to lead him down the hall and to the elevator, and then out to his car.

The two of you pull up to your parents house an hour later, you’re quick to undo your seatbelt and climb out of the car. There are already several other cars in the driveway, and Luke tries to guess who might already be here as you walk him up to the front door.

There’s a wreath already hung on the door as you ring the doorbell. Luke squeezes your hand tight, making you turn around and look up at him in amusement.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, smirking.

Luke shrugs, “A little bit,” he says.

“They’re going to love you,” you assure him and then the door swings open.

You whirl around, grinning at the little girl in the doorway. Luke recognizes her as one of your cousins from the countless pictures he’s been shown, but he isn’t sure which one she is.

“Hey bug,” you say excitedly, and the little girl jumps excitedly. She runs the few steps it takes to close the distance and jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly around your neck. Luke’s heart melts as he watches you twirl around the porch with her a bit, before putting her down and letting her run back inside.

“That was Kate,” you tell him before taking his hand in yours. Luke nods, already storing the information in his long term memory.

You lead Luke inside, just in time to hear Kate announce to the whole house that you and your “cute boyfriend” were there. Luke smiles at that and you look up at him with the widest crinkly-eyed grin, leading him around the corner to the kitchen.

Luke was not prepared for the crowd of people gathered as soon as they turned the corner.

There’s a male that looks just like you sitting on a stool at the bar, with a double version of himself sitting next to him. Luke immediately recognizes them as your twin brothers. He knew their names, but couldn't for the life of him, tell who was who. Kate has found two other young kids, around the same age as her, and all three of them are clawing at the dress of a woman who Luke presumes is their mother.

There’s an older woman stirring something in a pot on the stove, and another, younger woman sipping from a wine glass and holding a baby. In the attached living room three men sit on the couch, a football game on the flatscreen TV.

Luke is a bit overwhelmed by the chaos of it all, but when you squeeze his hand a little bit tighter, he feels like he can breathe again. You quietly start pointing out who is who before actually bringing him around the room.

He learns that your twin brothers were named Caleb and Elliot. He also learns that Caleb has his hair parted down the middle of his head, whereas Elliot’s was just combed back.

He learns that the woman stirring the pot on the stove was your mother, and the woman getting mauled by all the young kids was your Aunt Christine, and that her three kids were named Kate, Emily, and James. The woman nursing her glass of wine was your older sister, Caroline, and that the baby she was cradling was your three month old nephew. Her husband was one of the three men sitting on the couch. The other two being your uncle Mark and your grandfather.

“The one in the war?”

You nod.

Christine is the one that makes the obligatory new-comer to the family joke about there being a test later on who is who, and when your mother has finally put the turkey in the oven, she turns around to get a good look at Luke.

“So,” she begins, wiping her hands on a tea towel and untying her apron. “You’re the famous Luke that my baby talks endlessly about every time she calls home.” You throw her a look, one that clearly means stop- but Luke just laughs softly and squeezes your hand again.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Luke grins.

“So Luke,” your sister pipes up. “What do you do?”

Luke hesitates. His job was slightly unconventional, so he always just assumed you would have told them about it.

“I work for the Bureau,” he states nonchalantly, but he notices the hush that falls over the room.

“The FBI?” your sister asks.

Luke bites his lip and nods.

“Is that like the police?” one of the little kids asks.

Luke nods, smiling, “Yeah, I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

There’s a blank silence- Luke interprets it as no one knows what the hell that meant.

He clarifies.

“I study criminal behavior to assist in investigations.”

The whole kitchen remains quiet. Luke feels his stomach drop, as he suddenly starts wondering if he said something wrong. He notices you flinch, digging nails into the back of his hand until someone breaks the silence.

“Y/N,” says your grandfather from the couch, and everyone turns to look at him. “Is that boy a cop?”

“He’s not a cop,” you say. “He’s FBI. There’s a difference.”

Luke turns to look at you, lips parted in surprise. Clearly he was missing something here, as the tension grew thicker.

“You’re dating a cop?” He asks, standing right in front of the two of you now.

Luke lets go of your hand and wipes it hastily on his pants.

“He’s not a cop, he’s-”

“He’s a cop,” your grandfather sighs, he doesn’t seem mad, more disappointed. “After what your family has been through, I figured you’d know better.”

Luke looks between you and your grandfather uncomfortably before taking a step back towards the entryway of the kitchen.

“I- uh-” Luke stammers. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone-”

“You didn’t,” your mother pipes in finally. “Dad- that’s enough.”

“Okay,” he says, putting his hands up in defense. But the malice was still there.

Luke takes another step back. “Maybe I should go- I don’t mean to impose.” He takes another few steps before turning around altogether.

He hears you scoff harshly. “Nice going.”

You chase after him, grabbing Luke’s hand and pull him straight out the front door. Luke stands off to the side of the yard, pinching harshly at his own nose.

You reach for Luke with an apologetic look on your face. Luke opens his mouth before you can, though, spitting out the words that are probably on everyone else’s mind right now.

“I should leave,” he says, taking a step back when you reach for him again. “They hate me. I knew I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I’ll call an Uber home, you can take the car.” he mutters, turning away and reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Luke,” you argue, pulling his arm down. Luke groans, refusing to meet your gaze.

“You’re not leaving,” you say. “They don’t hate you, not at all. They haven’t even gotten to know you yet, and they’re absolutely not going to hate you because of your job, of all things. My Grandfather is just a little crazy, but he’ll get over it, I swear,” you assure him.

“Why didn’t you tell them I was in the FBI in the first place, if you talk about me to your mom so much? Kind of a defining feature, I would think,” he grumbles, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Uh, it didn’t come up?” you offer. Luke rolls his eyes.

“Did it have to?” He asks, voice dripping with annoyance.

You finally sigh, rolling your eyes and running your hand through your hair. “Alright, my dad was a cop. Right here in Baltimore. He died when I was thirteen. Shot in the line of duty. So we had to grow up without him. I didn’t tell them you were a cop because I knew that if I did my mom would wanna talk about my dad, and I didn’t want to talk about my dad.”

There’s a long, heavy silence before you sigh.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told her,” you admit, shoulders slumping slightly. “I didn’t think any of them would react like this. I guess it’s still a little raw.”

Luke takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, letting that all sink in. He can see why your family might be a little cautious. Because all that hurt that your family had to deal with must have really been awful.

“You never told me that. I’m sorry that happened,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. You look up at him hopefully, trying to lace your fingers together.

“I promise, after like five minutes of getting to know you, they’re going to love you, just like I did, I promise.”

Your eyes widen at your sudden admission. You look to Luke to see if he noticed your slip up. His grin says it all.

“Love me, huh?” he asks slyly.

You try to brush it off, but Luke’s not having it.

He takes a step forward in the grass and gently touches your chin, he tilts it up so that you’re looking at him. “I love you, too.” He says before pressing his soft lips to yours.

When he pulls away, you bite back your smile. “So you’ll try?” You ask.

Luke nods his head and lets you tug him back inside the house.

“Luke,” your mother says softly and Luke freezes, looking up at her like a deer in the headlights. He can only imagine that she’s about to kindly ask him to leave. “Oh, you poor thing, how rude you must think we are,” she says instead.

Luke shakes his head. “No ma’am,” he insists.

“I’m not sure if Y/N has told you about her father, but he was a cop. Sixteen years,” she stares off as if remembering him. “He passed away in the line of duty. It was terrible- the kids having to grow up without their father. And terrible for me to raise them without my husband. I never wanted that for my kids.”

Luke’s chest tightens again.

“But I’m so sorry about what my father said to you, and I want you to know that you are always welcome inside this house, because you obviously make my daughter very happy, and that makes me very happy,” she says, giving you a smile that looks so much like yours that it eases him just the same.

He releases the breath he was holding and lets himself smile, nodding quickly. “Thank you,” he says, giving your mother his most genuine smile.

“See? Told you she’d love you,” you say smugly.

Luke chuckles softly.

During dinner, Luke works his charm and is able to wiggle his way into every family member's heart. You marvel in awe as he’s able to carry on a conversation about football with your grandfather and uncle. Luke knows a surprising amount about the Ravens- even though he’s a Patriots fan. After dinner, when they all gather in the living room to watch the game, Luke turns out to be as loud and passionate about football as the rest of the men, even with Kate seated on his thigh, because for some reason she will not let him put her down.

After dessert is over you and Luke finally start to say your goodbyes to everyone with promises to visit soon.

By the time you get back to Luke’s apartment, you’re both too full and sleepy from the turkey to do much more than cuddle for a while.

“I told you my family would adore you,” you sigh. “Even my grandfather warmed up to you by the end of the night. Everyone loves you. But I love you the most,” you say, clearly already drifting off to sleep.

Luke smiles to himself and presses a long kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too,” he whispers softly, before letting himself drift off to sleep as well.

#luke alvez imagine #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader imagine

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