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twotapbuz · 3 years ago

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The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal.

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

“that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap.

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

#NSR #NSR 1010 #no straight roads #rin #1010 rin #nsr rin #neon j #nsr x reader #no straight roads x reader

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

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Ice Cold Pool

Part v of the Without You series: Colson and Y/N try to return to normal, but they still don’t know what normal actually is.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing (as per usual), substance use, people not following social distancing guidelines.

A/N: Seriously guys, wear your masks, social distance, etc. I really wanna go to a concert sometime in the next 2 years.

Word Count: 2743

| i | ii | iii | iv | vi |

masterlist

It had been 4 weeks since you and Colson had made the agreement to just be friends. Obviously, there were some hiccups in this plan. Most notably that hanging around Colson reminded you of all the reasons you loved him in the first place, and thus all the reasons you shouldn’t hang around him.

You were glad to be back to somewhat normal. You could hang around your friends without feeling too much tension, you could talk to Casie (who wanted to know everything that happened), and you could smoke again.

That last one you probably shouldn’t have been so happy about, but after a month without weed, you needed it.

Of course, not everything was back to normal. You and Colson weren’t technically… speaking. Yet.

You said simple things to each other, “excuse me,” “thank you,” and even the occasional “bless you” after a sneeze. But you had yet to have an actual conversation since that night. When hanging around the guys, you tried to be as normal as possible, interacting with Colson as little as possible. You didn’t want anyone else to think you felt awkward, because then they would feel awkward and it would be a whole awkward mess.

Tonight, you were hoping to ease some tension between you and Colson. Trippie was releasing the deluxe version of his new album and was having a “covid safe” album release party. All that meant was they would party outside rather than inside and only invite half the amount of people that they normally would.

Against your better judgement, Slim and Baze convinced you to go.

“There’s not even gonna be that many people there.”

“And Trippie would be so upset if you didn’t come.”

“If I go, will you two shut up?”

“Yes.” “Yes ma’am”

“Don’t call me ma’am ever again, Slim.”

So, you made a plan to talk to Colson at some point that night about something other than all of your problems with each other. If and only if the opportunity presented itself.

So, there you were in an oversized Misfits T-shirt that looked like a dress on you and shorts that no one could see, a beer in one hand, and a blunt in the other. You were sitting at the pool edge, your feet dangling in the water, as you talked to Iann Dior about cheese.

You may have been pretty tipsy, but he was worse.

“Cheddar cheese is the worst possible flavor of cheese.” Iann shook his head, laughing.

“Absolutely not. You can put cheddar in dishes, and they taste great. Cheddar makes things taste better. Brie cheese is the worst cheese. It’s literally fucking moldy.” You giggled, taking a swig of your drink.

“You’re both wrong. Feta cheese is the absolute worse and no one will convince me otherwise.” Colson chuckled, sitting next to you.

“There is nothing wrong with feta cheese, you two are just uncultured.” You laughed, the opportunity you needed apparently presenting itself. You took a quick glance at Colson, who was about to dip his feet in the water. “Colson your shoes are still on.”

He looked at you confused, and you realized just how high he was. “So?” he asked and Iann laughed.

“Dude, if you’re gonna put your feet in the water you gotta take your shoes off.”

Colson broke out laughing at Iann’s comment, his whole body shaking with joy. He slipped his shoes off once he finished and dangled his feet of the edge.

“So, you really think cheddar cheese is the best cheese?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Noooo.” You whined, “I just don’t think it’s the worst kind of cheese. But obviously there are better cheeses.” You kicked your feet up, splashing Colson on accident.

He looked over at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached his hand into the water, splashing water towards you. “Colson!” You squealed, laughing.

You returned the favor by flicking water at his shirt, at which point Iann left. “You get me wet and you die.” He said with a laugh.

Colson then cupped his hands together, bringing water up to your shirt and pouring it all over you, much to your dismay. Luckily, your shirt was black, but the water was still freezing. “Bro.” You pouted, looking over at Colson. He was smiling, but soon mimicked your pout.

“Aww, I’m sorry. Did the little princess get wet?” Your eyes went wide, and you slapped his chest. He grabbed your hand, pulling it up so you couldn’t hit him and accidentally pulling you closer to him. “I didn’t mean it like that!” He laughed, his hand intertwining with yours as he brought it back down.

“Colson…” You trailed off, warning him. He pouted, a sigh leaving his lips as he unlocked your fingers.

“Sorry, forgot I’m not supposed to do that.” You smiled a little, glad that things were slowly becoming normal. “I wanna go for a swim.” He changed the topic, standing up and pulling his shirt off.

“Colson it’s freezing. You’re gonna get sick.” You looked at him with wide eyes but a giggle falling from your mouth.

“Guess someone has to come in to keep me warm.” He shrugged, tugging his shorts down his legs so he was just in his boxers.

It was only at this point that you realized he was very drunk. A few moments later you felt the cold water splash your face as Colson jumped into the pool near you, coming up and running his hand through his hair.

He made his way back over to you, reaching for the beer that he left on the side of the pool. He half-stood in front of you, a needy smile on his face. “Get in the water with me Y/N.” He dragged out the last syllable of your name, causing you to roll your eyes.

“There is no way in hell I am getting in that water.” You chuckled, taking a hit of the joint in your hand.

Colson pouted, taking the blunt from you and smoking it himself. “I guess I could always just pull you in.” He grabbed your thighs and you moved backwards, fighting him.

“Colson, I don’t have a change of clothes, I’ll be cold.” You tried to squirm out of his grip, giggling.

“You can just wear my shirt or something. Someone will have something.” He shrugged, pulling you into the water.

“Colson!” You squealed before your entire body was encased in the cold liquid.

“Too late.” He said, a cheeky smile on his face. His arms wrapped around you as you turned to face the edge, ready to get out. “Noooo, you’re already in here.” He whined, dragging you towards his chest.

“Colson, it’s freezing. We need to get out.” You said, turning your head to face him.

“I don’t want to. This is the closest I’ve been to you in weeks. I just wanna enjoy this for a moment.” His head rested on top of your head, and you let yourself fall back into his chest.

You had to admit, you did miss his playfulness and his touch, and you really hadn’t been this close to him in a while. But you knew he wouldn’t be doing any of this if he wasn’t both drunk and stoned out of his mind.

You sighed, knowing you needed to end the moment, if not for your own sanity. “C’mon Col, we can’t do this. Let’s get out.”

He groaned. “We did this when we were friends before, how is this any different from that?”

You made your way to the edge of the pool. “It just is Colson.” You sighed, trying to mask the anger in your voice. You tried to pull yourself up to sit on the edge of the pool, but you couldn’t quite make it the first time. Colson, of course, took it upon himself to help you, grabbing your hips lightly to lift you up. He got out and sat next to you, both of you soaking wet.

He reached over and grabbed the shirt he was wearing earlier, passing it to you. “Here, so you don’t get sick.” He seemed to be sobering up, probably due to the cold water.

“Thanks.” Your voice was hushed, your cheeks burning with a blush that you couldn’t explain. It’s just a shirt, you told yourself. You stood up, preparing yourself to find somewhere private to change.

“Where are you going?” Colson asked, looking up at you.

“To change.” You said bluntly. “I can’t exactly strip in front of 40 people.”

Colson nodded, standing up next to you, pulling his shorts on. “Where are you going?” You asked him, a small smile on your face.

“Wherever you are.” He smiled and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I guess I can use you to clear my path inside.” You chuckled, starting to walk towards the crowd of people near the doors of the house. As you moved through the crowd you found yourself instinctively reaching back for Colson’s hand, not wanting to lose him as you moved through the crowd. He happily took the hint and moved closer to you, his free hand resting on your hip to help guide you to the doors, though you didn’t mind as much as you should have.

You made your way through the open glass door, suddenly very self-conscious about the clothes you were wearing and the fact that you were soaking wet. “Bathroom is this way.” Colson mumbled into your ear as the loud music blasted around you. The hand on your hip led you down a small hallway until you found the open bathroom.

You went in, turning to close the door when you saw Colson had followed you in. “I gotta change, Kells. You can’t be in here.”

“Woah woah woah.” He started, clearly offended, “You never call me Kells. That’s not allowed.” You giggled, rolling your eyes. “And I’ll just… look away.” He covered his eyes with his hands, moving his fingers to form a gap.

“Colson, seriously,” You laughed, “turn around.” He thankfully did as told, and you quickly removed the Misfits shirt you were previously wearing and replaced it with his long sleeve pink shirt. It wasn’t quite as long as the other one you were wearing, but it still went down to your upper thigh and the sleeves went far enough past your wrist for permanent sweater paws. Unfortunately, this meant you would have to keep your wet shorts on.

Upon realizing this, you let out a sigh of disappointment. “What?” Colson questioned, still facing the wall.

“You can look now.” He turned around. “It’s not as long as mine.” You pouted, stretching your arms out for him to see before flopping them back down to your sides.

Colson chuckled, “I really don’t see the problem, Y/N.”

You glared playfully, “I have to wear my wet fuckin shorts.” You whined, a pout on your lips.

“I meannn, you don’t have to.” Colson said, playfully. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But I don’t know what to do to help you.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, looking off into the distance. “I’m not giving you my pants, Y/N.” Another dramatic sigh. “Okay fine we’ll just go to his laundry room and through them in the dryer, okay?”

“See, you do know what to do to help me.” You smiled, grabbing your wet shirt and pushing Colson out of the bathroom.

The laundry room in Trippie’s house was surprisingly small, given his house was a small mansion. You were able, however, to close the door and pull off your wet clothes. Colson threw your shirt in the dryer as well.

You hopped up onto the washer, your legs dangling off. “You don’t have to stay, Colson.” You told him, knowing he probably wanted to rejoin the party.

“I’m good. This is much more fun than whatever’s going on out there.”

You laughed, “waiting for my clothes to dry? Whatever, loser.”

He moved towards you, his stomach touching your knees. “I’ve missed this.” He said, softly. You met his eyes with your own. “Just us doing stupid shit. Being friends.”

“We’re still friends, Cols.” You smiled, tilting your head to the side.

He sighed, “Yeah but we haven’t really been friends since…” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. “Not real friends, at least.”

You sighed, trying to decide what you wanted to say. “I’m sorry about that. I just needed a little bit of space and it never felt like the right time to… talk. Like if we started talking in a group everyone would just think it’s weird.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” his hand reached out to touch your waist. “If anything, I should be apologizing. It’s my fault we’re stuck in this weird limbo shit anyways. I was honestly afraid the guys would kill me if I talked to you.”

“Well, good thing it’s not up to the guys anymore.” Your voice got soft as you realize how close your faces had gotten. “And we can be normal friends again.” You added.

Colson looked down. “Yeah, normal friends.” He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but failed miserably.

“Colson, we’re just friends, right?” You asked, trying to convince yourself more than him.

He nodded, “Yeah, we’re just friends.” He looked up and met your eyes, and you could see the emotions in his crystal blue eyes. “But I don’t know that I can just be friends.” His voice was soft, making your heart sink deeper.

His head was inches away from yours, his nose almost touching your own. He leaned his head to the side, his eyes traveling your face. His lips were millimeters from yours. “Tell me that you don’t want this, and I’ll walk out right now.”

“I…” You couldn’t form a sentence with his lips so close to your own. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered.

“That’s not what I asked.” He paused, touching his nose to yours lightly. When he spoke, you could feel his words on your lips. “Do you want me to kiss you right now?”

You couldn’t answer him for a few seconds. “I don- I don’t know Colson.” You breathed out, leaning your forehead against his.

Part of you was hoping he would take matters into his own hands and just kiss you, but the other part of you knew you would regret anything that happened right now.

He jerked his head away from you, a frown etched across his face. “When are you gonna make up your goddamn mind? I can never figure out where I’m at with you.” His voice raised slightly, making you jump. “One minute we’re not even talking and the next you’re holding my fucking hand at a party. You say we’re just friends and then don’t say no when I ask if you want me to kiss you. Like what the fuck is this?” He ranted, causing your grip on the edge of the washer to tighten.

“Colson, I told you. I need time to figure all of this out. It doesn’t just happen overnight.” You tried to keep your voice calm.

“It’s been weeks, Y/N. How long do you need?”

Confusion took over your features, and then anger. “Colson do you even realize what you did? Honestly, you’re fucking lucky I even wanted to be friends. You kind of screwed me up, really bad. So, excuse me for needing time to figure out if you’re worth it or not.” Your eyes fell to the floor, suddenly very self-conscious of all the things Colson had said to you 2 months ago.

Colson scoffed, backing away from you, “Well honestly it would be a lot easier if we weren’t friends.” His words were harsh, and you were reminded that he wouldn’t change, not really. “Y/N I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice became soft, but it was already too late.

You hopped off the machine, pushing past him and pulling your damp shirt and shorts out of the dryer. With your back facing him, you pulled your shorts on and then took his shirt off, replacing it with your own.

“Y/N I’m sorry I jus-“

“No, Colson. I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that my existence seems to be the bane of yours.” You shove his shirt into his chest. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” You walked out of the small room and through the house, determined to call a cab home.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst

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levixreader · 4 years ago

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Levi x K-pop! Reader - It's not what it looks like - Chapter IV

Summary: Did he... Kiss you? Based on @cakeswashere KISS CAM prompt: x

Previous Chapter | Master List | Requests | Next Chapter | Chapter I

It's not what it looks like

《 Chapter IV》

It had been a long day at the office. This month had proven a little overwhelming, R.I.E, three months before, had bought a small marketing firm in order to integrate it into its ecosystem. Every month without fault there was some kind of miscommunication with them that resulted in some sort of internal problem. And who had to fix it? Him, it was always him. He would have stayed later at the office if he hadn’t made plans with you.

He looked down at the tickets in his hand; You’d gotten floor seats.

“Did you find her?”, Hange asked. He didn’t answer instead his eyes wandered around trying to locate you. There you were. Sitting, one leg hammering the floor, your face glued to your phone. He smirked, “There”, he said pointing his nose at you. “My Queen!”, Hange screamed waving ferociously. He saw your face detach from your phone, your eyes scanning for Hange’s voice. You couldn’t locate them, his smirk deepened as he scooting into the row, Hange trailing behind him.

When he reached you, he took a second to look at you. You were wearing a short thing that hiked up way too high up your thighs. His eyes lingered on your legs, they looked smooth. Without even thinking about it, he took off his leather jacket, throwing it brusquely on your lap. This visibly startled you, your eyes looking up to him riddled in confusion; your face half shaded by your cap. His expression was neutral. He looked good; his dress shirt looked a bit wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up. He probably came straight from the office. Of course, you knew that he had been dealing with a particularly tricky absorption. You smiled up at him, he didn’t correspond, simply stared. “My Queen, hello!”, greeted Hange, poking her head from behind Levi’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes and sat down.

You looked striking.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed. It felt like the whole section around your little trio was pointing and taking pictures. Hange sat at your other side. He felt pleased, at least you wouldn’t be sitting next to a stranger. Sometimes you could be quite dense, like now, you were chatting away with Hange about some new singer, seemingly unaware of the lustful eyes around you.

He didn’t like it.

There was little he could do but glare when he felt the person too close to your seats. He sank into his chair, already feeling a bit riled up, being in the public eye was adding to his stress. He crossed his arms in front of his chest not really in the mood to engage in conversation. This didn’t seem to be a problem for you, too busy waving at nearby fans, smiling without a care in the world as people pointed and treated you like some kind of display. They could at least have the decency to leave you alone on your time off. Hange was no help, she was basking in the attention, poking you so that you would look across the court at gaping fans desperately trying to catch your eye. He was getting a little frustrated. Feeling a bit antsy, he took out his phone reading unnecessary emails. That would keep him distracted. Why did he come? This was far from a good idea.

He briefly looked at your lap, his jacket covering your lap. He couldn’t even begin to think the mess that would spur from that little act. Sure, the media now knew you were strictly just friends and that you actually went out together in a platonic way. But they hadn’t seen you in public, there were no pictures. Everything was just retellings of people who had seen you together like at the bar, the other day. He groaned quickly typing an email to PR.

Stop any stupid pictures from leaking.

It sounded threatening. “Serves them right”, he thought sending the short message. They had enough to prepare for what the media would do seeing you and him in public. He wasn’t completely delusional, he understood that not everything could be blocked but, this much they could and would do. After the hell that had been your little crowd diving, they needed to remind him why he paid them the exorbitant amounts of money they billed him monthly.

Contrary to what the media was spitting out, you and he weren’t all that different. There was a reason you were… friends. As had become painfully obvious, you both had a love for the same kind of food and wine, not to mention concertos. That first dinner, he had mentioned his favourite composer in passing, but you latched on to that for the rest of dinner. He hadn’t been able to talk to someone so thoroughly in a very long time. Perhaps that’s what made him venture into inviting you to a concerto. And boy was he glad he had. That had been the most pleasant of your surprises; that you shared so much in common with him. You even recommended a few modern composers that he had dismissed years before. And what’s worse? You had been right.

The one difference? He could never get used to how public you were. Even If the media didn’t publish any pictures of the two of you together, they always knew where and with who you were. Storied came a mile a minute with so many listed sources that he couldn’t possibly track them all down and shut them up. That had never happened to him. He was well known at best, but people barely knew who he was because he rarely showed his face. Recently, however, that had changed. He couldn’t go to his usual tea shop anymore without at least someone taking a picture of him. He knew why it was happening, but, if that was the price to have you close, he would gladly pay it.

He sighed, reclining further into his seat. He didn’t even like basketball, except, you had looked so proud holding the tickets. Your voice was so hopeful that he would come. He had stayed the afternoon watching videos to at least understand the game somewhat.

“Sorry”, you whispered at him. His eyes lazily looked at you, his face still facing forward. “For what?”, he asked a little taken aback. “I know you’re not exactly a fan”, you said apologetically. “Hmm”, he answered his eyes returning to watch the court. “I didn’t tell you this”, you said still whispering. The only indication that he was listening was his raised eyebrow, “but I also got us tickets for Yann Tiersen”, she said her voice dripping with excitement, “but I only managed to get two”, you explained further. Ahh, this is why.

Hange liked basketball. You didn’t want her to feel left out. “Then why am I here?”, he asked his voice deep and velvety. It made you feel as if butterflies had hatched in your stomach. “Well,” you said licking your lips, “I didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t understand what is going on”. He smiled, startling again the butterflies. He chuckled, covering his mouth with one of his hands. “Speak for yourself”, he answered playfully. “PASS THE BALL!”, Hange screamed, “PASS.IT”, she yelled. Both of you turned to watch her, frown in place, eyes glued at the court. You chuckled, his eyes now on you, he smiled. Perhaps basketball wasn’t that boring of a sport.

* * *

It had been a long fifteen minutes; too many noises, people hailing, complaining, everything had to be a scream. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the game, he kept getting distracted by your knees occasionally knocking into his. Every time without fault he would jolt to attention. You seemed to not notice at all; your attention fully on the game. This somewhat irritated him.

You were always like this, he knew you didn’t particularly enjoy basketball, in fact, he would bet his right leg that you didn’t even know any players besides LeBron James; but, like anything you did, you always got weirdly excited just immersed yourself in it despite your lack of interest. He had already seen you make your small hands into tiny fists and shaking them whenever the yellow team made a point. It was cute.

He sighed looking down at his phone, they were finally taking a break from the game and he could check on the emails that had already accumulated in the short period of time since he last checked. His thumb scrolled reading the latest proposal for budget from the marketing department; they were asking for, yet again, another increase in budget. He frowned, the overwhelming chatter around him dying down.

Something felt off.

He could feel the whole court staring his way. He turned to check on you. You were looking down at your lap fiddling with his jacket. You were nervous, his eyes narrowed. He could make out a pink tint colouring your cheeks. “Also embarrassed”, he noted. His eyes shifted to Hange, she was staring wide eyes mouth opened. His eyebrow rose in confusion. The fuck was going on.

“Well?!” Came a voice from behind him, “kiss her!”, the voice screamed.

He could have choked.

His eyes were fully alert, he twisted his body to turn to see who the fuck was talking. “The fuck?”, he asked annoyed. “Yeah! KISS HER!”, it was a woman this time. He quickly turned to see her. “KISS HER!”, yet another. “Kiss her!”, “kiss her!”, the crowd began to chant.

“It’s the kiss cam!”, mouthed Hange. He immediately relaxed. He looked up at the massive screens, sure enough. There was a heart-shaped filter focused on you and him, “kiss cam” scribbled at the bottom. Raising both hands and crossing them in an “x” shape at whoever was filming him. A chorus of boos echoed through the court. He sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sinking into the chair again.

He looked up at the screens, a failed animation playing. He sighed, the camera turning to another couple. “Calm down, it left”, he whispered. You nodded, unable to speak; your cheeks still flushed. His eyes scanned over your figure, they glimmered with curiosity. Smirking, he returned his gaze back to his phone, “Good”, he thought.

* * *

Yet another break came.

Finally, half time.

He just needed to get through another two breaks.

As he had decided, he took out his phone yet again, reading the budgeting proposal; they were finally making some sense. It looked coherent and well structured, they hadn’t asked an exorbitant amount either.

“Levi”, he heard Hange call out. Unwillingly, he twisted to look at the woman. “Look!”, she mouthed pointing at the goliath of a screen. He groaned, there he was, frown displayed on TV with you next to him, “KISS CAM”, written in big bold purple letters. He could see you blushing even from the low-quality camera pointed at the both of you.

“Just do it”, Hange said making you flinch. His eyes narrowed at your response. “Common! Kiss her man!”, someone screamed. “Yeah, kiss the girl!!!”, “Kiss her!”, “Don’t be a pussy! Kiss!”.

The previous chant echoing throughout the court, “Kiss her! Kiss her!”.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, bones included, being rejected on national TV was pretty embarrassing. Did he not want to kiss you? Had this tension between the both of you simply been in your head? You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted him to want to kiss you.

“Fuck it”, you heard Levi whisper. Callous hands cupped your cheeks, softly guiding your head to face him. Steal grey eyes greeted you, his nose next to yours.

And then…

You felt it.

His lips came soft, barely gracing yours. The front of his bangs tickling lightly your cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded, avoiding your shocked irises. You couldn’t move. It had been so fleeting you that you could have missed it. You blinked, feeling the warmth leave your lips.

His face retreated from yours, his body returning casually to his seat.

You simply stared, too surprised to react.

Your stomach somersaulted, a faint ringing sound covering your ears; loud enough that you barely registered the crowed erupting in cheer and whistles.

His lips had been soft.

Your hand reached up to your lips, your fingertips touching gently your lower lip.

He kissed you.

Heat. Your cheeks coloured gently turning peach.

You didn’t say a word.

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years ago

Text

Come Over (3/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. Neighbor AU.

Warnings for Series: Fluff, angst, pining, the ush! Also, swearing, because nobody ever washed my mouth out with soap.

Notes: So I’ve daydreamed about a neighbor AU for an embarrassing amount of time, and I need something to get my creative juices flowing again. So, ta-da.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A month into your new life in New York, you feel more settled in. Your apartment doesn’t look like a warehouse piled high with boxes, and you’ve even spent some of your signing bonus on artwork to hang on the walls and a few plants to bring some life to the space. You’re even considering getting a cat.

At work, you frequently eat your lunch with not only Wanda and Vis, but the three other women on your floor. Maria, Charlotte, and Sarah are all mothers, so they don’t usually attend the girls’ night out you and Wanda plan every week, but they’re still pleasant to sit and chat with regardless. It’s made you feel even more at home at Stark Industries.

Speaking of, Tony is a riot, you’ve learned. You’ve come out of your shell a little more with each day you work for him, and it’s mostly in thanks to Tony’s easy-going personality. Though he’s clearly a workaholic on top of being addicted to caffeine (for anyone else this might’ve been a destructive combination but Tony seems to wield both extremely well), he feels more like a weird brother/father figure than a boss. He keeps most projects secret from you, but occasionally he’ll show you a new update or ask for your opinion as a consumer. You’re honest with him without kissing his ass too much about it.

Since he lives closer, Sam comes over a couple times a week to hang out with you and catch up on your favorite shows. He tries to bring Clint with him most times, but being neck-deep in a new case makes it hard for him to get away to visit. You settle for FaceTiming him during the week even though it isn’t the same.

It’s one of your weekly nights with Sam, who reclines in your new armchair with his feet up and an open beer in his fist. You’re catching up on Mindhunter with him, relaxed on the couch under a big fluffy blanket with your own beer. In between episodes Sam has been telling you all about the girl he’s been seeing, to which you demand you meet her for approval.

He rolls his eyes and asks, “Isn’t that my job?”

You scoff. “You’re my best friend, Sam, and as my best friend, I’ve got to make you’re taken care of just as much as you’re taking care of her.”

He grumbles under his breath but you can see a slight pinkness to his dark skin that makes you smirk in victory. A few moments of silence and then:

“So what about you and Neighbor Boy then? What’s going on there?” While your smirk drops, his widens. You take a long pull from your beer.

“Absolutely nothing, Sam.”

He snorts and gestures with his beer. “You have coffee dates almost every week!”

“He helps me put furniture together! There’s absolutely nothing but friendship there, I assure you.”

A doubtful look characterized by lowering of his eyebrows and pursed lips. A responding eye roll and scrunched up face, a silent don’t give me that look.

“Want another?” you ask, needing to busy yourself in order to keep your unusually attractive neighbor out of your head. Throwing the blanket off your lap, you stand up and accept the empty bottle Sam holds out to you.

If he notices that you take a little longer to fetch two more beers, he doesn’t say anything when you get back to the couch. He presses ‘play’ on the remote and the topic of your neighbor is dropped.

For an hour.

“So, you’re coming next Sunday for our football party right?” Sam asks.

Once a month during football season, Sam and Clint co-host a party at your brother’s apartment. You make your five-layer chip dip and Sam brings a massive amount of wings while Clint provides endless beer and a giant wrap-around couch that seats eight. (You’re still not sure how he fit the damn thing in his apartment.) To antagonize Clint and to make the day a little more fun, you and Sam always show up in your matching Patriots jerseys representing the McCourty twins.

“Of course I’ll be there! I never miss it!” you reply with an incredulous look. Sam holds up his hands.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any new furniture that needed assembling that day.” He chortles when you chuck the throw pillow under your hip at him and nail him in the chest. “I’m kidding. Mostly. But, uh, I was gonna say, if you wanted to invite him, you could. Not as a date, don’t you throw that bottle! Jesus. Crazy. Just, Clint and I think he’s cool and it’d be cool to have another dude around.”

You watch him for a few moments, see no trace of his earlier teasing, and sigh and relax back into the couch. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“All I ask.”

Sam, bless him, leaves you be about Bucky for the remainder of your evening together. When he’s gone, your mind can’t rest just yet, so you open up a new beer and put on a rerun of CSI. You’ll regret staying up so late in the morning, but for now, you let your mind get sucked into the emotional episode of Warrick’s funeral.

Regret is a bitter bitch, and the next morning it comes in the form of a prominent headache paired with under-eye bags your makeup barely hides. A three-hour binge of CSI definitely wasn’t your smartest move considering you’ve a fairly important meeting with Tony in about two hours. Hair tied back in a ponytail and makeup...done but slightly unsatisfactory, you slip into a black pencil skirt with a mustard blouse tucked in. Your feet slide into a pair of black pumps and you throw on a jacket to combat the cool October morning.

You know your face shows your exhaustion as you give yourself a final once over, but there’s not much you can do short of downing copious amounts of coffee. Tote bag slung over your shoulder, you head out of your apartment with a sigh. As you’re locking your door, the one next to yours opens, and Bucky steps out looking ten kinds of delicious in his running gear, tattoos on full display thanks to his tight tank top.

You grunt when he tells you good morning, chuckles good-naturedly until he sees your eyes. Then he’s frowning in concern and you’re almost desperate to do anything to wipe it off. Such a man should not be frowning.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” he asks, falling into step with you towards the elevator. You resist the urge to rub your eyes in order to preserve your makeup.

“Not really. Sam stayed till about ten and then I stayed up a little while longer. Guess I just couldn’t fall asleep.” To punctuate your sentence, a long yawn escapes. Bucky stands next to you in the elevator, close enough you can feel the heat radiating from him and it’s wholly distracting. “And I have a meeting in a couple hours and I’m not really sure how I’m going to get through it without dozing a few hundred times. Know anyone who can hook me up with a caffeine IV?”

He laughs, the sound echoing in the small space, and despite the warmth and your jacket you still suppress a shiver.

“I’m afraid not. Hey, do you have a few minutes? We can go get a cup now, if you want,” he offers, blue eyes boring into yours, and you nod before you can really think about it. His smile brightens up the entire elevator, and then he’s leading you with a hand on your back out into the lobby and finally out onto the street.

He takes you to a place between your apartment building and the subway, stands with his hands in his pockets as you both wait in line. Sam’s invite bounces around in your head, your nerves expressing themselves in the form of tapping your fingers on your arms, which are crossed over your chest.

Bucky and you order your respective drinks and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. Your hand on his arm stops him, has him looking down at you with those depthless blue eyes.

“I’ve got it,” you say softly with a small smile. He opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but you merely hand over some cash to the cashier. “You’ve helped me a ton this past month. Let me at least start paying you back with coffee.”

The blush that overtakes his face has your insides fluttering with giddiness. You have to bite your lip to keep back your grin, your entire body warming over the fact you’ve made this beautiful giant of a man blush. As the two of you stand off to the side and wait for your orders, you feel a small boost in confidence.

“Hey Bucky, I was wondering—” You’re cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. He sighs and pulls the device from his pocket, and if you hadn’t been eyeing him so closely, you’d miss the slight downward twitch of his mouth.

“Excuse me just one sec okay?” he says apologetically. When he looks up at you, you know he means it and you nod. He smiles tightly and walks off down the small hallway that leads to the bathrooms, accepting the call with a hushed “Hi”.

You wait patiently until the barista calls your name and Bucky’s, and you grab both cups and sip lightly from yours while Bucky’s on his call. You can see him in the hall, shoulders hunched and free hand swinging about as he gestures. That pinched look is on his face again and you feel a faint tug in your gut that has you wondering if you’re close enough friends to ask.

Before you can decide one way or another, he’s pulling his phone from his ear and shoving it back in his pocket.

“Sorry about that,” he sighs, accepting the coffee you hand to him with a close-lipped smile. He takes a long drink from it, wincing a little at the burn, and licks his top lip. It’s horribly distracting for a minute. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Oh, um, I was just wondering if you maybe—oh shit.” A quick glance down at your watch shows you’re going to be late if you wait any longer. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get going otherwise Tony’s going to kill me with his newest project. Um, I’ll see you later?”

Bucky’s blue eyes are slightly widened in surprise at your sudden departure. “Y-Yeah, definitely. Maybe you can tell me about this new project.” It’s said with a wink that tickles your insides.

“Maybe. If I’m not sworn to secrecy. Bye, Bucky!”

“Have a good day at work. And thanks for the coffee!” he calls out as you fly out of the cafe.

Your exhaustion only worsens as the day goes on. The meeting you’d sat in on was nothing short of boring—even Tony dozed off a few times, but only you’d taken notice because you were seated beside him and heard the tiny little snores. Your planner had been filled with new doodles of suns, clouds, flowers, and a tiny little witch in the margins. You’re still unsure why you’d been required to attend this meeting; you have a pile of things on your desk that could have been done in the two hours you sat uncomfortably in your chair, listening to the other tech geniuses go back and forth on new design ideas.

By the time it’s time for you to leave, you feel dead on your feet, which are cramping in your shoes. Your neck, shoulders, and back are also killing you due to sitting in your chair and hunching over the screen built into your desk. The subway ride home has you almost falling asleep, lulled by the gentle swaying of the car and the four hours’ sleep you got the night before.

It’s a slow climb to your apartment, and as you pass Bucky’s door you hesitate. You never did get to ask him this morning and so, because you’re too damn tired to be shy, you turn and knock three times on his door. From behind the wood you can make out a scuffle, and then the door is yanked open and your mouth runs dry.

Bucky stands before you, shirtless and gleaming with sweat. He’s breathless, that broad chest heaving up and down. There’s a smattering of dark hair across his chest and beneath his navel that disappears into the band of his shorts. The hair on his head is mussed, as if he’d been sleeping or hand run his hands through it.

“Y/N,” he gasps. Crimson creeps up his neck and across his chest, stains his cheeks as well as he avoids looking at your eyes. He glances over his shoulder briefly before turning back to you, eyes cast down at the neckline of your blouse. “Wha-What are you, um, doing here?”

“I, uh, wanted to ask you if you wanted to come to my brother’s with me for the football game on Sunday?” you ask in an equally breathless rush.

Bucky seems surprised by the question and is about to answer when a second, female voice calls from behind him, “James?”

A blonde head appears over his shoulder and the slender woman tucks herself under Bucky’s arm, looking equally as disheveled. You feel the color drain from your face even though it warms under the implication that you've...interrupted. There’s no question of what they’d been, or had about to have been, doing because the blonde’s hair is ruffled just like Bucky’s, her full lips red and kiss-bitten. Her blouse is untucked and unbuttoned.

You can’t take your eyes off her, nor she you as she lays a manicured hand on Bucky’s chest, a universal female power move that says he’s mine.

Bucky looks as awkward as you feel, shifting from bare foot to bare foot even as his hand rests on the woman’s shoulder. He clears his throat and gestures with his free hand to the woman, whose eyes have not left your form and are currently on their third sweep of your entire figure.

“Uh, Y/N, this is Sharon.”

“His girlfriend,” Sharon interjects. A sideways tilt of her lips that you know means no good. She reaches out with that manicured hand for yours and you shake it quickly, dropping it as if it’s burned you.

In a way, it has. It’s burned you so badly on the inside that you want nothing more than to duck into your apartment with your tail between your legs. You can feel the flames licking at your gut, sliding up your esophagus to singe your throat. It’s bitter, the burn, and it puts a pressure in your throat and behind your eyes.

“Sharon, this is Y/N, our new neighbor I was telling you about.” He won’t look at you, focusing instead on the blank wall just over your shoulder.

His sudden refusal to look at you pairs badly with your embarrassment, from both interrupting and for ever thinking you might have a chance, and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Chapter Four

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes au #neighbor au #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes neighbor au

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kk095 · 5 years ago

Text

Last Ride

Here's my latest story! @defibresuslover247 gave me the idea and @eyesfixedanddilated gave me a few pointers along the way. I hope everyone enjoys!

****

Brooke was a 22 year old with a full, busty figure, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was a southern girl, born and raised in eastern Tennessee. She was always a bit of a tomboy and enjoyed outdoor activities like hunting, fishing, and riding ATV's.

The night of the incident started off normally. Brooke’s older brother Mike had received a nice tax return that year and decided to splurge a little bit by purchasing a new ATV. Since he knew his younger sister was into riding ATV's, he invited her to try it out with him.

The two siblings went out into a vacant 20 acre lot on the outskirts of town. This particular plot of land had plenty of hills and open areas, so a lot of ATV enthusiasts in the area enjoyed riding there. When the 2 of them got there, Mike parked his blue Ford F150 along a dirt path about 50 yards or so from the road. Mike got the ATV out from the small trailer attached to the back of his truck and the riding began.

For the first hour or so, the 2 siblings were having fun in the outdoors. They were zipping up and down the hills, through the dirt paths, and had a few beers along the way. But as time went on, the drinking and lack of light once the sun set took its toll. While Brooke was riding the ATV by herself, she went was riding downhill at a high rate of speed, losing track of her speed. Her chest hits the handlebars before she goes flying off the vehicle. She lands hard on the ground, striking her head and left side of her face. While tumbling down the hill, the ATV rolls violently down the hill, stomping right over Brooke’s right femur before continuing on down. Brooke screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling her right femur snap like a twig and slightly protruding through her jeans. Brooke’s wild trip down the hill came to an abrupt stop when her left arm and ribcage smashed into the side of a tree.

“Holy shit… BROOKE?!” Mike shouted from the top of the hill after watching the event unfold in horror. “Brooke?! BROOKE?! You ok?!” Mike yells as he starts to run down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, Brooke was screaming out in agonizing pain. She could see a bone fragment penetrating through her jeans on her right thigh, and her left arm was badly broken. She felt a bit dizzy, and could the stinging from open cuts and blood on the left side of her face. Her left humerus, which broke the fall into the tree at the bottom of the hill, was swollen and had some obvious deformities. Brooke tried to get up, but she obviously couldn’t. She sat on the ground squirming and crying, begging her brother to help.

When Mike got to the bottom of the hill, he was taken aback by his sister’s injuries. He stood lorna deer in headlights for a few seconds before whipping out his cell phone to call 911. The call was transcribed as the following:

911 dispatcher: 911, what is your emergency?

Mike: I need an ambulance! My sister’s hurt real bad!

911 dispatcher: Sir, please remain calm. Can you tell me the location of your emergency?

Mike: we’re on that vacant lot off of highway 501 with all the hills and paths! You gotta hurry, I think she’s hurt bad!

911 dispatcher: alright sir, police and EMS are en route. Can you tell me what happened?

Mike: She flipped off the ATV and rolled down the hill. There’s a bone sticking out of her leg!

Due to the extent of her injuries, the 911 dispatcher instructed Mike to refrain from first aid and just stay with his sister to keep her calm. Since the vacant lot was outside of town, it was going to take the ambulance at least 10-15 minutes to arrive on scene. But with the amount of pain Brooke was experiencing, those 10-15 minutes would feel like an eternity.

When EMS arrived on scene, they found Brooke screaming and crying in agony and Mike panicking, feeling semi responsible since this was all his idea. The medics instructed Mike to step away and give them space to examine Brooke.

The medics noted a few injuries immediately: open right femur fracture, left humerus fracture, facial+head lacerations, and some bumps on her head. The medics placed a c-collar since a spinal cord injury was within the realm of possibilities. The medics then removed Brooke’s socks, shoes, and snipped off her jeans so they can reset the open femur fracture. Brooke winced in pain while the 2 medics wiggled the pants off after making a few cuts with trauma shears. Next, the medics reduced the open femur fracture, which cause Brooke to scream loudly in pain for a second. Once the bone was below the skin and somewhat in its ’s normal place, the laceration from the bone protrusion was bandaged up and the area was splinted off. The next order of business was to focus on the humerus injury. There was obvious swelling and deformity, consistent with a displaced oblique fracture within the humerus. The upper left arm was also reset and splinted, causing Brooke a great deal of pain. After the arm was treated, the medics quickly bandaged up some of the head lacerations and abrasions and began setting up 2 large bore IVs. After IV access was obtained, normal saline was hung, but the medics refrained from administering pain medications since alcohol was smelled on Brooke’s breath, and there were beer cans scattered across the ground just up the hill. Brooke’s top was then cut off, sparing her black bra and matching underwear. A 5 lead ECG with a portable heart monitor was set up to obtain readings for her vital signs. On scene, Brooke’s vitals were: BP 87/49, Pulse 121, o2 saturation 94%. Brooke was placed onto a backboard and taken over to a gurney, and taken into an ambulance.

Mike begged and pleaded with EMS to ride in the ambulance with them, but they told him he couldn’t. “THAT’S MY FUCKIN SISTER! LET ME IN!” Mike shouted belligerently. One of the cops on scene offered a compromise: since he had too much to drink, they’d drive him to the hospital.

During the first part of transport, Brooke was a little short of breath, so an o2 mask with high flow oxygen was placed. The medic in the back of the ambulance lowered their stethoscope onto the girl’s chest and listened to her heart and lungs. “heart sounds good, but we’ve got diminished breath sounds on the left. Might be a tension pneumo.” The medic announced to the driver afterwards. The medic also noted that there was swelling and bruising on the side of her chest along her left ribcage, consistent with possible rib fractures or dislocation.

Over the following 10 minutes or so, Brooke’s condition changed a bit. Her GCS dropped to 10, and became a bit disoriented. Her systolic BP dropped into the upper 70s, and her heart rate was approaching the 130s. With this in mind, the medics became concerned about a potential head injury. The medics checked her pupils: right pupil was reactive, and the left pupil (injured size) had the early stages of dynamic oval pupil. Essentially, her left pupil had a slight oval, or almond shape. This is typically associated with eye trauma, optic nerve injuries, or brain bleeds originating from the back of the head. Since there wasn’t sufficient evidence of trauma to the eyes/optic nerve, it appeared a head injury was within the realm of possibilities. “Hey, what’s our ETA? GCS dropped to 10 and we’ve got a DOP in the left eye. She needs a head CT ASAP.” The medic in the back of the ambulance called out. “ETA 4 minutes. Hang in there…” the driver replied. The ambulance continued speeding down the road, sirens on full blast while Brooke continued to struggle in the back. She was squirming around and groaning in pain. “Miss, you gotta stay still for me, ok?” the medic said calmly, attempting to reason with brooke. Brooke began crying again while fidgeting around and kicking her healthy leg out. “Miss! You gotta stay calm!” the medic said more sternly, grabbing ahold of Brooke trying to hold her in place. Brooke quickly became inconsolable and demonstrated an altered mental status. “she’s definitely got a brain bleed or something…” the medic thought to themselves. Brooke needed to stay still due to her femur fracture, and because a spinal/neck injury hasn’t been ruled out. Since there was no getting through to Brooke, the medic decided to push a round of rocuronium. This medication is a strong muscle relaxer and paralytic agent, so it’s used as a chemical restraint when patients consume alcohol since alcohol doesn’t mix well with other agents commonly used.

Within 30 to 45 seconds, Brooke was knocked out by the medication. Since she was now unconscious, the medic decided to perform rapid sequence intubation on her for airway management. With a laryngoscope in 1 hand, the medic maneuvered a 7.0 ET tube into the girl’s airway. Once it was at the correct depth and place, the tube was secured with a blue tube holder, and an ambu bag was attached. For the remainder of the ambulance ride, Brooke remained hypotensive and tachycardic, and her GCS was still bouncing between 9 and 10.

Upon arrival at the ER, the medics gave the trauma team a brief rundown of Brooke’s condition as they wheeled her into an available trauma bay. Once in the room, Brooke was transferred onto the table and examination began. She was immediately started on blood transfusions- 1 unit A+ and 1 unit O- with 250 units of rhogam, 1 unit of platelets, and 1 unit of FFP. Multiple specialists were paged for consults, including: orthopedics, neurosurgery, and trauma surgery. While waiting on the specialist to arrive for their respective consultations, initial examination began. A FAST scan was performed first. The chest portion of the exam showed trace pericardial effusion, minor to moderate abdominal bruising but nothing potentially lethal, and the pelvic section came back clean. Multiple x-rays were then ordered: the x-ray of the arm confirmed displaced oblique humerus fracture, which would likely require surgical reduction with rods and pins. The chest x-ray showed 2 broken ribs and 1 dislocated rib on the left side of the thorax, along with bruising and swelling in the intercostal area. The chest x-ray also revealed a left sided tension pneumothorax with pleural effusion, which appeared to be caused from air escaping into the chest cavity, which pinched and pressed up against the lining of the lung. The next x-ray was of the femur fracture. The fracture was quite extensive, which required surgical reduction and many months of physical therapy in order to heal properly. The x-ray of Brooke’s head showed no evidence of a c-spine fracture, but there were some contusions on the skull and there didn’t appear to be any fractures; a head CT was still necessary to get a better understanding of her head injuries.

In the meantime, the trauma team decided to do what they could for her. The first order of business was to deal with the tension pneumothorax on the left side. The treatment for this was placing a chest tube in order to evacuate any air or blood. The procedure started after the area in between her ribs was sterilized. A 1 inch incision was made in the skin, followed by an additional one to cut through any fat and underlying tissue. Once a decent opening was created, a 36fr chest tube was placed into the incision area, and navigated deep into the pleural space. There was a small amount of blood drained from the tube, but a substantial amount of air exited the tube, allowing proper lung expansion once again.

Another concern arose in the coming minutes. The lower half of Brooke’s left leg was a bit discolored and cold. Her dorsalis pedis pulse was weak, so compartment syndrome was a legitimate issue here.

When orthopedics arrived, they wanted to set up pressure monitoring in the thigh to see if compartment syndrome was indeed taking place. But the orthopedic surgeon and neurosurgeon were in a bit of a disagreement. “if we don’t monitor her leg, she could lose it!” the orthopedic surgeon said. “well if we don’t get a head CT, she could die! I’d rather her lose her leg than her life!” the neurosurgeon replied smugly. The trauma surgeon offered a compromise: a fasciotomy in the emergency department. Typically, this is a procedure reserved for the operating room, but this was an emergent situation that required a quick decision. Everyone quickly got on board and the procedure was started in a moment’s notice.

Betadine was squirted on the right thigh and the bandage was removed from the splinted compound fracture. A scalpel was used to make 2 deep, long incisions in the thigh. Once the skin was incised, the underlying fat and tissue was cut out so proper bloodflow and blood drainage could take place. Her right calf and right foot immediately became a more normal complexion, and the dorsalis pedis pulse was stronger than it was just a minute or two ago. The freshly opened area was then irrigated with saline and prophylactic antibiotics to decrease the chance of infection, and the wound was somewhat closed with the shoelace suturing technique.

After the fasciotomy, Brooke’s blood pressure began to take a rapid nosedive. Vasopressors were pushed in an attempt to increase BP to a more stable level, and more blood products were hung. While trying to maintain BP, the young woman began to have a tonic-clonic seizure on the ER table. Brooke jerked and flopped erratically, biting down on the ET tube and grunting every few seconds. Her toes clenched up, wrinkling the soles of her size 8.5 feet. To combat the seizure, the trauma team acted quickly by injecting 1 dose of lorazepam intravenously in order to stop the convulsions. It was my like the tv shows where the medicine take immediate effect. In reality, it takes about 45 seconds for the meds to kick in. In those 45 seconds or so, Brooke’s twitchy, spasmodic movements slowed down incrementally until she finally settled down and stopped seizing.

After the seizure was controlled, Brooke was covered up and transported to radiology for a head CT. The GCS drop, altered mental status, DOP, and seizure were all associated with a brain bleed. Once in the CT scanner room, Brooke was transferred into the table and hooked up to a portable ventilator since nobody could be in the room with her during the scan. Prior to the scan, she was given another dose of vasopressors to keep her blood pressure semi stable since she was hypotensive. Pupil reactivity was checked before the scan as well- left pupil was sluggish and still oval shaped, and the right pupil was constricted.

The head CT took about 8 minute to complete. The results of the scan were interpreted quickly: there was a subdural hematoma in the left temporal lobe. The size of the bleed was definitely noteworthy, so the neurosurgeon wanted to drill a burr hole to alleviate the pressure in the cranium and then monitor Brooke with an intracranial pressure monitor to see if an additional surgery would be warranted.

Once the plan was made, Brooke was once again whisked away and back to the trauma bay for a quick burr hole and ICP monitor insertion. The procedure quickly commenced upon return to the ER. A portion of Brooke’s hair was shaved off on the left side and the pasty white skin was sterilized with a small amount of betadine. The neurosurgeon took a surgical drill and drilled 2 holes. The first one was made in the left temporal area to alleviate pressure and create immediate blood drainage. Thick, gooey blood oozed out of the small, circular hole in her skull after it was drilled. The coagulated blood was suctioned out, allowing proper release of the fresh blood from the active bleed. The 2nd hole was drilled in the left parietal area. The purpose of this 2nd hole was for insertion of an ICP monitor and to allow room for additional draining in the event the bleed worsened. After hole #2 was drilled, the ICP monitor was inserted and set up by the neurosurgeon, and a few small drainage tubes were inserted to help drain additional blood in an attempt to restore normal pressure within the skull. The next step of Brooke’s treatment was to take her to the OR for surgical reduction of both her femur fracture and humerus fracture.

Up in the OR, Brooke was hooked up 5o a ventilator and prepped for surgery. The anesthesiologist had some concerns about her blood pressure before surgery, so it was advised that trauma surgery would sit in on the surgery, and have neurosurgery on standby. With her BP still low, a repeat echocardiogram showed that the trace pericardial effusion had worsened in the past little while. Before the surgery started, the trauma surgeon performed an infrasternal pericardiocentesis. The quick procedure drained a decent amount of blood and slightly improved Brooke’s vitals, buying the surgical team enough time to work on the orthopedic injuries.

The orthopedic surgeon began with the humerus fracture. The original plan was to hold the bone in place with some plates and screws, but once the doctor got in there, they noticed damage to the proximal head of the humerus. When there’s damage to that portion of the bone, they have to replace it with a titanium joint that’s held in place with screws. Essentially, it’s like a hip replacement in your arm. It’s not a common situation, but it happens every so often, and the surgical team was prepared for that curveball. Part 2 of the orthopedic surgery was the femur repair. A long, thin metal rod was inserted into the femur after the medullary cavity of the bone was essentially scooped out. With the rod in place, the fractured portions of the bone were lined up and then held in place with small plates with titanium screws. Overall, the orthopedic portion of Brooke’s treatment went well, but since she was hemodynamically unstable and required monitoring for a head injury, she was sent off to the ICU for monitoring.

Brooke’s first few hours in the ICU were uneventful, but changes started to occur overnight. Around 3am, her blood pressure began to drop once again, along with an alternating QRS complex on the EKG. The ICU nurses decided to page a rapid response since the changes were concerning. When the trauma surgeon arrived, they pushed a round of vasopressors and hung 1 unit of FFP since there may be some residual bleeding and damage. The doctor’s next order was a repeat echocardiogram to monitor the progression of the pericardial effusion. The echo showed that Brooke was experiencing cardiac tamponade, so once again, an infrasternal pericardiocentesis was the way to go. The needle aspirated a combination of both clotted blood and fresh blood, but cardiovascular function slightly improved after the procedure. Brooke’s pupils were checked afterwards; they were sluggish but reactive, and the dynamic oval pupil was slowly going away. The ICP monitor was showing normalizing pressure in the skull, so it appeared the head injury was on a slow and steady course towards healing. The main concern was the chest injury at that point.

Approximately an hour later, Brooke began to struggle once again. Her blood pressure was still low and her chest tube output decreased. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that there was a blood clot lodged inside of her chest tube. Treatment for this is disconnecting the drainage portion of the chest tube and suctioning the lumen of the tube out until normal output returns. But when the tube drainage is disconnected in trauma patients (because a larger chest tube is required), you run the risk of re-aggravating the tension pneumothorax, so this has to be done rather quickly so excess air doesn’t get into the tube or the patient’s chest cavity.

With the trauma surgeon supervising, the drainage portion of the chest tube was disconnected. A suction tube was placed into the chest tube and the chunk of clotted blood about the size of a pea was slurped out, allowing normal flow and drainage to occur once again. But even after the chest tube was reconnected, Brooke’s blood pressure was still low. A 3rd echocardiogram was ordered, showing a sizable tamponade in the lateral portion of the pericardium. With this continuing to occur, and getting worse, the trauma surgeon decided to page cardiothoracic surgery and immediately take Brooke up to the OR for an exploratory thoracotomy and pericardial window.

While wheeling Brooke out of the ICU, her blood pressure suddenly became dangerously low. “shit, she’s gonna code. We need to get her up there ASAP!” the trauma surgeon blurted out with urgency. The ICU team wheeled Brooke through the corridors at full speed and into an available elevator. No more than a second after the elevator doors shut, Brooke became pulseless. The heart monitors showed pulseless electrical activity, so ACLS protocol promptly began. One nurse began pumping away at Brooke’s bare chest. The 22 year old's chest sunk deeply from the strength of each individual compression. Her chubby body and large, natural breast jiggled around a bit while another nurse injected epinephrine and atropine into one of the IV sites.

A nurse got on top of the gurney and began straddling the young woman, delivering strong, repetitive compressions. A few moments later, the elevator doors swung open and Brooke was wheeled out and into the main hallway of the OR floor. “whoa, what happened?” one of the nurses at the main nurses station asked, surprised to see an active code out in the open.

The team continued wheeling Brooke through the hall, compressions ongoing. Once in the correct operating room, the code was paused for a moment in order to transfer the woman onto the OR table. The monitors chirped loudly while Brooke’s limp body was transferred onto the table. Once on the table, CPR was restarted by one of the surgical nurses. “oh boy… what a mess. We’re gonna have to open her up ASAP. Get me a thoracotomy tray…” the head surgeon called out as they walked into the room. Since the heart monitors still showed PEA, CPR just went on. Redness and bruising started to form on the center of her chest in between both breasts due to all the hard compressions she was receiving. There was a popping sound that occurred during each individual compression since a few of her ribs became fractured or dislocated. The nurse that delivered compressions could feel Brooke’s cold, clammy skin through her gloves while everyone else in the room was scurrying around and barking orders at each other in what seemed like a moment of organized chaos.

While the surgical techs set up a thoracotomy tray, an OR nurse pushed the next round of intravenous meds since Brooke just crossed the 4 minute mark of the code. The meds didn’t have an immediate effect, but were able to convert Brooke to v-fib after approximately 45 seconds or so. With defib pads already attached to Brooke’s bare chest, they were charged to 200j and a shock was delivered. Brooke’s limp body jolted abruptly on the table in response to the quick dose of electricity. Since no change occurred, CPR resumed for several seconds until the defibrillator pads were recharged.

Seconds later, everyone backed away from the table and a 300j shock was delivered. Brooke’s back arched, forcing her chest up in the air, making her breasts bounce around. Shock #2 failed to convert Brooke from v-fib, so the surgeon took over and made the executive decision to open her chest via a left anterolateral thoracotomy.

Betadine was splashed across the left side of Brooke’s chest in a moment’s notice. With CPR ongoing just inches away, an incision was made in the 5th intercostal space. The cut began just to the left of Brooke’s sternum and extended laterally. The incision continued under her left breast, and ultimately came to a stop a few inches away from her left armpit. The next step was to separate and cut through the underlying tissue in order to create an opening for the rib spreader. This took about 15 or 20 seconds since it was done at a hurried pace. With that out of the way, the finochietto rib spreader was placed in the gaping cut, and the actual opening of the chest began. A cracking sound was heard regularly while the knobs were turned, forcing the 22 year old’s ribs apart.

The OR team was greeted by a rush of blood from the chest cavity upon cracking the chest. Suction was applied to the area and a 2nd chest tube was inserted for additional drainage. With the excess blood out of the way, a pericardiotomy was performed. A quick cut was made into the lining of the heart, which leaked a combination of fresh blood and coagulated blood. The incision in the pericardium was extended to deliver the heart more effectively, and a few small drains were placed into the incised portion of the pericardium for continuous tamponade drainage.

After these critical first few steps, external compressions were swapped out for internal massage. One of the doctors wrapped their hands around Brooke’s heart. They pushed hard and fast in an upwards motion with both their thumbs on the left ventricle in order to force blood through the aorta and out to the body. The doctor could feel Brooke’s heart twitching in their hands as they desperately attempted to reverse the dire situation.

V-fib still persisted after a cycle of internal compressions and another dose of meds, so the internal paddles were called for. The large, spoon shaped paddles were charged to 20j and placed directly against the desperate, spasming organ. After everyone backed away, the first internal shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump was heard, followed by her torso twitching a bit. Her heart fluttered for a second from the direct jolt of electricity, but it quickly returned to its erratic spasming from before. Internal compressions were resumed while a vascular clamp was placed on the descending aorta near the diaphragm. The purpose of this is to temporarily redirect bloodflow back to the heart, brain, and lungs since those organs are most essential. After the large vessel was clamped, the internal paddles were prepped once again, and placed around each side of the young woman’s heart. Shock #2 was a but stronger at 30 joules, causing more noticeable reaction. Brooke’s torso flopped slightly and her toes curled up, wrinkling the soles of her size 7.5 feet. This shock failed to correct the deadly arrhythmia, so resuscitation efforts went on. A cycle of internal massage was performed while the internal paddles were recharged to 40j. After the paddles were good to go, the third internal shock was delivered. The same dull thump as before filled the room for a moment while Brooke’s battered body twitched on the table. The monitors began chirping again, continuing to show v-fib.

The same cycle of internal compressions, shocking and meds continued again…and again…and again, but the OR team just couldn’t get their young patient’s heart to restart. Despite a 26 minute code, Brooke passed away in the OR, with her time of death being called at 5:02am. The monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached. Additional equipment such as the EKG electrodes and IVs were removed in the eerily silent OR. Brooke’s naked, battered body laid on the table. Her heart sat motionless in plain sight during the basic postmortem preparations. Eventually, the chest tubes were removed, the ICP monitor was taken out, and the chest was closed up. A cover was placed over Brooke’s body, and a toe tag was placed before sending her off to the hospital morgue, bringing a sad ending to the case.

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plounce · 5 years ago

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tma fic recs? i went into ao3 and it was a mess

yeah it’s been slow-going for me too because of the amount of freak shit people post/have posted, as well as the fact that a lot of the high-kudos’d jm fics are from before s4 really ramped up their relationship development. and i’ve found i can get pretty picky about martin’s characterization. here’s a couple i’ve read and liked

(now with a read more because it’s gotten long) (updated 2/15/20)

the umbrella (4.6k) - mag160 fixit, probably my favorite fixit so far. includes canon-level non-graphic blinding. but it has a happy ending. it’s tma, i don’t need things to be light and fluffy all the time, i’m good with canon level darkness yk? as long as there’s a happy ending and the gays’ love for each other is pure.

feel the done days and you’re pulling through (1.8k) - jon deprogramming from being an avatar. living a very domestic and idyllic life. it’s adorable

all resistance wearing thin (4.7k) - ok this is the ONLY web!martin concept ive ever liked. bc it doesn’t make martin a crazy villain hes still himself and hes just NICE he LOVES people (aka jon). and we all like to indulge in a bit of mutually obsessive love. happy ending :)

some invitation of light (4k) - i love the joke that “martin is proof that playing hard to get works,” and this fic is in line with that. i’m picky about jealousy in fics but this one was enjoyable

ways to save the world (19.3k) - oooooogh urghhhhh jon gets trapped in the lonely and martin communicates to him through passages of poetry… im a total sucker for epistolary fics and this one was so GOOD

above all shadows (4.3k) - canon divergent from s4, written before the finale. very fairytale esque. theres some paragraphs in this that made me go HAM

catch and release (2.3k) - pre canon divergence au where theyre both avatars being spooky and doing a back and forth. martin is full lonely and jon got RAISED BY SPIDERS. somewhat edgy but in a fun way. we love creepy shit

agate, amber, amethyst (994) - short sweet and soppy. magpie jon is so utterly charming to me.

reciprocity (1.9k) - short and sweet caretaking stuff. both these bitches need to sleep.

always a reason (1.7k) - we love jon taking care of martin!! as he deserves!

pl: nuclei; but you only need one, anyway. (1.1k) - s3 phone calls with jon asking martin for research help. timezones. jon trying to stretch those “i care about you” muscles

1. can’t be helped (5.3k) 2. rituals (8.4k) - two fics in a series. very monster boyfriend. the first is martin losing his emotions to the lonely. the second is martin getting them back, but jon has been subsumed by The Archivist, which is figuring out what martin means to it. there was a moment in the second that made me go a little whoa hey! it was the archivist compelling martin. but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to make me stop reading. they were good, heartrending reads.

misshapes, mistakes, monsters (7.9k) - jon takes martin as his plus one to an oxford reunion. an enjoyable read, along with an almost cartoonishly villainous posh man. pining! “it’s nice to feel like i’m something worth protecting” arrrghhhh

small things, simple acts (6.6k) - post-159 fic. bookmarked this one! because they LOVE each other and TRY SO HARD for each other!!!! jon buys martin a stuffed cow because he saw martin looking at it and theyre TRYING for it. “There are a lot of things that Jon can’t give him, like safety or a normal life. But he can absolutely get him a stuffed toy just because he looks like he wants it.”

i’m almost me again, you’re almost you (12.9k) - you know when you try to feel feelings and it’s like touching a hot stove? that’s what martin does this whole fic as he’s recovering from the lonely and jon is being so achingly sweet and good with him, but martin can’t 1. deal with it just yet 2. believe that jon loves him back. post-159 fic. god. READING it felt like touching a hot stove, or stepping into warm bathwater with cold feet. jesus christ. excellent

fate, or something (107.8k) - this is that 100k blind date s1 canon divergence au, and i tried it out and i LOVED IT. martin has a spine! it’s just so sweet. they’re friends! martin works with melanie for ghost hunt uk! a great read. it’s that sloooowwww burn shit.

forever is composed of nows (5.9k) - jon meets martin (a single dad) and martin’s daughter (agnes! who had good writing for a child in a fanfiction) in the library and things grow from there. this fic is SO CUTE. it’s wonderful. i literally had to take breaks while reading it to make wild animal noises because i couldn’t deal with it. god. it’s so good. UGH (thanks to @infernallegaycy for the rec!)

and i won’t pray for an unfilled grave (5.9k) - daisy after coming out of the buried. daisira and daisy&melanie bonding. WOMENNNNN I LOVE WOMEN

hello my old heart (15.8k) - jess @thedistortion, the person who got me into tma and a dear pal, wrote this, and their brain is utterly huge and good. i love this so much. a deeply excellent post-159 fic that i would also say is pre-160. so many parts of this make me gasp and clutch my chest! but it also has an excellent realism to it. spiders that enrage me. please read.

yesterday is here (26.6k+, WIP) - post-canon jon and martin travel back in time and hang out with the pre-canon crew and attempt to make everything better. guaranteed happy ending. it’s so sweet watching jon be so kind and gentle and Better At People with his coworkers and make things right - and the s1 jon and martin fumble at seeing their extremely married and Knowing counterparts.

a measure outside the lines (22.9k) - i looove post-159 fics that show that martin hasn’t been completely severed from the lonely and still really struggles with it. this one is EXCELLENT at it. there’s some moments in this one that just made me totally ache because oh… oh martin. it’s so wonderful and has such excellent emotional catharsis

interlude (7.8k) - s3 au where georgie meets martin over facetime with jon! makes me wistful for the friendship they could have had without all the coping mechanisms in the way. the fond teasing is very cute. the pining! the banter! the slips of the tongue! very, very enjoyable.

skin deep (3.1k) - another s3 au where georgie meets martin on better terms - she calls him for help after jon’s meeting with jude (as jon’s locked himself in his room). the way jon leans on martin and lets him in and just… the way he behaves around him. very sweet.

bury my heart on the coals (3.6k+, WIP) - au where martin was one of gertrude’s assistants who is now a ghost haunting the archives. i’m enjoying how he’s so judgmental of jon and all the little signs of Haunting that jon and the assistants are experiencing.

nor any more youth or age than there is now (6.5k) - outsider pov of jon being a primary school teacher in scotland post 159!! so, so sweet. i LOVE outsider pov stories and this one is so good. jon using his powers to protect his students and displaying all that character growth he’s had… the glimpses of his domestic life with martin… it’s adorable. please check it out.

take sides in divided cells (3.4k) - in an idyllic domestic post-canon, martin’s father tries to reconnect with him. from jon’s pov, so it’s a lot of him worrying about martin and then being protective. oof! oof! emotional hurt/comfort.

pieces of you stuck on me (1.9k) - spy au. a little snapshot - i enjoy all the implied backstory going on. the thrill! the longing! the suspense! and i’m generally a sucker for spy aus, i’ll be real.

be kind, i beg you (14.9k) - post 159. oh this one is so achey… i love it. jon obsessing over “loved is past tense” and trying so hard to be Good to martin, while martin deals with mood swings from his recent emotional traumas. they try really hard and are very domestic, talk about gardening, and clean up the safehouse. LOVED THIS.

#chirps #tma #jonmartin #Anonymous #the magnus archives

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holidaywishes · 5 years ago

Text

It Had To Be You XLII

Chapter Forty Two: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Summary: Fast forward a year to June 2023 and It’s Bachelorette Party time.

Warning: Tyler isn’t really in this one (hence no GIF) in anything other than conversations between the girls. Most of the warnings are just mentions of alcohol, drunkness, drunk embarrassing moments, and possible male strippers.

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed the short, little, fluff chapter that came out last time but I wanted to get into some more Girl Time story lines so we can feel more connected to the Bridal Party that (Y/N) will have. Also, I think if I keep writing about Tyler and (Y/N) in these last chapters, it will just be overly-angsty. So, yeah. This one and the next one are just short, fun and cute. Also, I wanted to do a quick update of the timeline since there’s been a few time jumps from Chapter 38. So, here it is:

Part XXXVIII: July/September 2021/January 2022

Part XXXVIX: Late June 2022

Part XL: Late July 2022

Part XLI: August 2022

Parts XLII & XLIII (this chapter and the next): June 2023

Song Credit: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got) -- Fergie ft. Q-Tip & Goonrock

masterlist

the other masterlist

When Diana convinced you to do your Bachelorette Party in Vegas, you whined that it was too cliché but no one else in the group was taking any of your suggestions seriously.

“You want to go Wine Tasting for your Bachelorette Party?” Lucy sneered

“What’s wrong with that?” you answered

“Well first of all,” Ethan added, “you hate wine...”

“Yeah well... I suggested--”

“Venice beach?” Cassidy interrupted, “no, sorry. If you have it there, I’m out. I honestly thought that was a joke.”

“Thanks for that, Cass. What about New York?! I suggested that and nobody said anything”

“It’s not bad...” Candace said, “but it’s a little overpriced for the amount of stuff we want to do. Vegas is the all around better choice...”

“She’s right,” Diana interjected, “I love New York as much as the next girl but there’s something for everyone in Vegas. In New York, you have to worry about one person being terrified to take the subway while another is too annoyed to sit in a taxi in traffic...” You looked at the group and let out a long, exaggerated sigh, signalling your reluctance to agree

“Fine...” you finally said and they all smiled at you before jumping up and down with excitement, “but hold on. We have to invite Melissa and Katie and some of the girlfriends from the team...”

“Even if you don’t know them?” Lucy said skeptically

“I know it would mean a lot to Tyler...” you admitted, “it would show him that I’m willing to get to know these people who are a big part of his life and who will most likely be around for a while. We don’t have to invite a lot, just one or two.“

“It’s your party...” Ethan mumbled, “your guests.” You rolled your eyes but continued to send invites to Melissa, Katie, Dominika and Julia. Candace and Lucy handled the booking and the planning of the Bachelorette weekend while you just worried about packing and showing up. Once everyone had confirmed they were going and bought their plane tickets, you were on your way and the excitement started early.

“Mimosa for everyone,” Katie smiled, handing out champagne flutes in the airport bar, “CHEERS! to a weekend of sin that none of us will remember.” She winked at you and you shook your head with a smile before taking a sip of your drinking.

“Can you just promise me one thing?” You asked

“We won’t let anyone out of our sights” Ethan replied, tilting his head to you with a smile

“Not what I was gonna ask but that’s good too,” you smiled back, “no, I was going to ask... can you just promise me that no strippers will be called to our hotel room? We can go to a show but I don’t want cops showing up at the door who actually turn out to be strippers... okay?”

“Got it.” Lucy answered, seemingly for the rest of the group, and raised her glass to clink yours.

The first stop of the weekend, after the hotel, was to the MGM Grand for some gambling

“Apparently it’s got a lot of options,” Cassidy said, “not just poker or slots. Something for everyone!”

“Am I guaranteed to win?” you joked

“No,” Melissa said plainly, “but you are guaranteed to get a lot of alcohol in your body in a very short amount of time.” You laughed and nodded before walking into the Casino with a ridiculous outfit that practically shouted ‘Bachelorette’ to the room, completely with Tiara and Sash. Unfortunately, you didn’t win much but you broke even and that led you to direct the group to the next activity; a trip to Fremont Street.

“To be honest, we were kind of thinking we’d do this tomorrow,” Julia started, “but there’s a lot to see in Downtown Vegas so we can do a couple days here.” You could feel the alcohol begin to hit you, so when someone flew past your group on the Zip Line above, you were all too eager to find it and take your turn.

“LET’S DO THAT!” You exclaimed

“I don’t know, (Y/N),” Candace laughed, “you think you can handle it?”

“Uhhh, YEAH!” You said, running up to a stranger, “do you know where the Zip Line starts?” He pointed toward the SlotZilla building down the street and you thanked him

“I’m sorry. It’s her Bachelorette Party. She’s excited” Lucy explained to the man

“It’s all good. She’s not bothering me,” he smiled, “have a good night!” With that, Lucy and the group followed you to the start of the Zip Line and took your places. About halfway through, it hit you that you were getting married and you yelled over to Candace

“DO YOU THINK HE REALLY WANTS TO MARRY ME?”

“WHAT?” she yelled back

“DO YOU THINK TYLER REALLY WANTS TO GET MARRIED?”

“OF COURSE HE DOES!” Dominika responded when she heard your question

“WHY DON’T YOU THINK SO?” Candace asked finally

“I DON’T KNOW. HE’S GETTING OLDER? MAYBE HE FEELS LIKE HE HAS TO”

“HE LOVES YOU” Both Dominika and Candace yelled. You waited to get off the Zip Line to continue the conversation but as soon as you were off, Julia and Cassidy were dragging you back up to try the Zoomline. The view from that high freaked you out a little but not enough to stop you from going through with it.

“YOU READY?” Julia shouted, raising her eyebrows as she asked

“I’M READY!” You answered, “CASS?”

“LET’S DO THIS!” The three of you were shot from the wall and watched as your friends tried to follow along but you lost sight of them when they ran into a big group of people. When you got back on solid ground, you got a text from Ethan asking where you were

“BUDDHA!” was all you sent back

“They on their way?” Julia asked and you nodded, looking at your background on your phone; a picture of you and Tyler when you’d first adopted Lionel.

“What’s wrong?” Cassidy asked

“I miss him!” you answered

“Who? Tyler? You’ll see him in a couple days.”

“What? No, Lionel. My puppy. He’s getting so big!” The two girls laughed just as your friends walked into the hotel finding you standing by the Happy Buddha Statue.

“Time to go ladies,” Diana said, winking at Ethan, “and Ethan. Our limo is here to take us to the Rio. We’ve got naked men to see and more alcohol to be consumed!” Diana and Candace wooed while the other girls yelled ‘let’s do this bitches’ from behind you, making you and Ethan laugh. Before you got to the show, Diana told you that the package she bought got the group Dinner and Drinks

“OOH YES! FOOD!” You slurred, the alcohol clearly taking over

“We’re gonna have some drinks too but this is to make sure we don’t die too early.” She said

“Plus,” Lucy added, “we have passes for Tao after the show. So we’re going to make sure we’ve sweat the alcohol thoroughly out of our body before we go to sleep tonight.” Right when you got to the Rio, and were directed to your seats, you got a text from Tyler but just as you were about to answer, the lights went down and you put your phone on silent. The show was everything you expected and, in your drunken state, you were overly enthusiastic about just about everything, not that you’d remember any of it the next morning -- luckily the entire group had their cameras out to capture everything.

Waking up the next day felt like someone was stopping on your head and you groaned when Melissa plopped herself into the bed with you.

“Last night was fun,” she grumbled, “but I don’t think I want to drink today.”

“I don’t want to get out of bed today. For anything. Give me room service.” You complained as you pulled the covers over your head

“Ladies,” Cassidy slumped in the room, whispering as quietly as she could while still being heard, “the hangover IV people are on their way. We should be fine in a couple hours. Hang out by the pool. See some shows tonight. Go to some clubs, drink--” she stopped herself from throwing up before continuing, “a little and then come back and go to sleep for a second before we catch our flight.”

“If I’m not dead in an hour, Fine. But until then, I’m not making any promises.” The words would prove to be the death of you, and the rest of the group, because that IV Treatment seemed to perk everyone up enough to do last night, almost, all over again. So much so, that you almost missed your flight. Tyler picked you up from the airport and, luckily, chose to keep the dogs at home but he was not about to let your hangover go unnoticed.

“So..” he started, “have fun this weekend?”

“I’m never partying with your sisters again. EVER. I don’t think I can go back to Vegas...” you answered

“You never texted me back...”

“That’s your sisters fault. Not mine. Or maybe it was the strippers,” you tried to think but your head was still pounding, “it was the alcohol’s fault.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t die”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I didn’t...” he laughed but you put your hand on his arm to stop him, “shhh. I just need you to... shhh.”

“I love you” he smiled, looking over at you as you sunk in your seat

“Mmhmm, me too,” you answered, “now let’s just have some quiet time.”

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin series #Tyler Seguin Imagine #Tyler Seguin Fics #Dallas Stars #NHL #Dallas Stars imagine #Dallas Stars Fic #Dallas Stars Series #NHL Fic #NHL Imagine #NHL Series #It Had To Be You #It Had To Be You series #masterlist #the other masterlist #it's time for the bachelorette party y'all!#next up #Bachelor party...

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tunesscribbles · 5 years ago

Text

Portgas D Ace x Reader Nights

a 4 + 1 style fic | gender neutral reader | subheadings from ‘Shake It Out’ - Florence and the Machine

I I like to keep some things to myself

You heaved the unconscious body on the ship before fully climbing onto it yourself. That marked his- what? 87th failed murder attempt on Whitebeard? It was also at least the fifth time you had to fish him out of the ocean since devil fruit users can't swim. You shivered in the chilly night air. Nothing better than a dive into freezing water in the middle of the night! You really hoped you wouldn't catch a cold as you wrung out your hair and clothes a little.

You were seriously doubting this guy's sense of self-preservation. It was clear as day that he would never be successful. Ironically enough, the only one getting injured due to his murder attempts is himself. So why does he keep doing it?

You accepted the towels another crew member handed you with a thanks. Next to you Ace seemed to become conscious again. You wondered what was going on in his head. Definitely nothing too cheerful, judging by the way he curled into himself, knees brought up, arms folded above and head resting on top. Although he made a pitiful sight with seawater dripping from his body and collecting in a puddle under him, he seemed anything but defeated.

This stubborn idiot was going to try again, wasn't he? You wouldn't put it past him to go for it this very night. Instead of asking him why or trying to convince him not to, like many had tried before you, you threw a towel over his shoulders and moved to sit down.

You lifted your gaze upwards to look at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, no moon either, just billions of twinkling dots. The past few days had been cloudy and childish as it may be, you had missed the stars, just a little. No matter where you are in the world, the stars look the same. They were a source of comfort.

You heard Ace shift as he reluctantly began to dry himself with the towel. Oh, right. For a moment you completely forgot about him. Weren't you supposed to try to talk to him?

"Okay, so..." Strong start, already getting weaker. This was a terrible idea all around. You threw a glance at him to find him looking up at the sky like you were before. There was a certain glint in his eyes, like he was trying to remember where they kept the weapons on this ship.

You sighed. "At least try not to fall into the ocean again tonight." You got up to leave him to his own (certainly self-destructive) devices. "Ain't no man above a common cold!"

II I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't

As soon as Ace finally accepted the invitation and became part of the crew, he defended Whitebeard's name with such vigor that you wondered if he was putting in an extra effort to try to compensate for his earlier actions or if he was simply this much of a ride-or-die person. The more time you spent with him, the more you leaned towards the latter.

It surprised you how lively and open the freckled male turned out to be once he lowered his guard. He seemed so different from the troubled teenager Whitebeard had picked up. Ace was actually easy to talk to and the two of you got along well.

The stars shone dimly through a thin layer of clouds as you were about to land on the next island.

"Lets go grab some food, my treat.", he offered. He stood next to you and spun his bright orange hat on his finger. That hat was frankly ridiculous! As if he was pretending to be some sort of cowboy-pirate.

"You never pay for your food.", you remarked and raised your eyebrows at him.

"That's not-" The hat slipped of his finger and in an attempt to catch it Ace almost threw it into the ocean. He composed himself again and adjusted his trademark clothing item on his head. "I'll pay this time, it'll be nice."

He seemed nervous, why was he nervous? You squinted your eyes at him in a scrutinizing look.

"You're planning something, I don't trust you when you're planning something. You had a prank war with Thatch last week and now you want to pay for someone else's food when you never even pay for your own?"

The look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and suffering like a plan gone wrong. You knew it!

He threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what? Forget it! I bet it wouldn't have worked anyway!" and then his words became unintelligible as he grumbled to himself. Something about being damned if Marco was right and how it was not even that big of a deal, whatever 'it' was. You would feel bad for him, if you had not just dodged a prank.

"Aw, don't be like that! I can help you trick someone else, if you want.", you tried to cheer him up. "Take a look at the stars! It's the perfect night to cause some mischief. Just because I didn't fall for it, doesn't mean no one else will." The more you talked, the more you got the feeling of being on the wrong ship and sailing away into the distant land of "I-really-fucked-this-up-but-I-don't-know-what-I-missed".

That feeling was further enhanced by Ace glancing at you sideways and saying: "You are terrible at this." in a way that made you question what exactly 'this' was and at what point during the conversation the two of started to talk about completely different topics.

There was a hint of amusement in his voice though and you decided to latch onto it to stop this talk from hurtling towards becoming a ship wreck.

"Well, we all have to be something, don't we?" There you go, he laughed. Another interaction salvaged. "We can still go and grab some food, if you'd rather do that."

He pulled a face. "Nah, I don't feel like paying for it anymore."

Now it was your turn to throw up your arms.

III I've been a fool and I've been blind

You hissed as the doctor cleaned out your wound before bandaging it. Next to you Ace winced in sympathy.

You were slightly unsure what to do with him these days. Over time you became good friends, however at some point there has been a shift in your dynamic. Whereas conversations used to flow naturally and hanging out with each other was comfortable, nowadays everything seemed to be accompanied by an underlying tension. An odd sense of nervousness would spread between you and like a wrench thrown into the conversational clockwork, it would bring everything to an awkward standstill. Suddenly you were overly aware of every aspect of yourself that could pass as a flaw and the various ways in which you could ruin this friendship you have come to treasure.

Ace was still uncharactaristicaly silent when you left the infirmary. You gently bumped your shoulder with his to gain his attention.

"I can almost hear you inventing new ways to blame yourself, stop that. It wasn't your fault."

"I was supposed to watch your back!", he said through gritted teeth.

"You did! Otherwise I wouldn't be here to tell you not to beat yourself up. Even if you didn't, it was my fault for not paying attention." His mouth was already open to come back with another argument but you cut him off. "No! No arguing. End of discussion."

And apparently also end of conversation because another tense silence followed your words. You heaved a sigh so heavy it could have sunk a whole ship.

Your fingers brushed past his hand and he flinched away like you burned him. Which was ironic, considering he was the one with the fire powers. This right here is what you were talking about. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why was everything amped up to a hundred and then some? The smallest touch could set everything ablaze and words were weighed down with double meanings and it hurt and still. All you could think was how much you wanted to hold his hand and maybe, maybe-

Something clicked into place. Something you had known in the back of you mind for a while but just now realized. Oh, you thought.

The fact that Ace smelled distractingly like bonfire did not help with the overall situation.

IV Here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

"Do you have to be so disgustingly in love?", asked Thatch with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", you replied at the same time as Ace said: "Absolutely!", from where he sat wrapped around you with his chin propped up on your head.

The crew members nearby laughed and toasted to "young love" and that it may annoy the cook to the end of times.

Later that night Ace and you retreated to a quieter place on deck away from the party. You watched the stars overneath and after a while you said: "They're all long burned out and dead."

Ace spluttered and choked on his drink. You had to pat his back to help him.

"What?"

"The stars. A lot of them are long dead before we can see their light.", you elaborated.

"Oh" Now he looked up as well as if considering them from a new perspective.

"Doesn't stop them from looking beautiful though." You smiled and leaned into him.

"No, it doesn't."

It was quiet for a moment, apart from the party on other parts of the ship, but it was not like the uncomfortable silences in the past. Just a pause, nothing to worry about. There is no longer a rush to get the right words out in time in fear of them dissolving on your tongue otherwise.

You took a sip of your drink while Ace laced your fingers together.

"Disgustingly in love", he repeated the words from before and smiled. You couldn't help but grin yourself.

"Maybe so", you said and playfully swung your joined hands back and forth.

"I love you.", he said and you never really get used to such declarations. Ace turned around so you are facing each other and cupped your cheek in his unoccupied hand. "Disgustingly much!"

If a smile could stop a war, this one had just achieved world peace.

"I love you, too." You dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose and then some more on the freckles on his cheeks, for good measure. "An obnoxious amount!"

Ace leaned in for a proper kiss and for the next few moments the world began and ended right here: You two, with your hands entwined, kissing under the light of dead stars.

A week later Thatch found a devil fruit.

+ I I' m ready to suffer, I'm ready to hope

A year passed. Vengeance proved unsuccessful.

For a long time now you had felt unhinged, off balance without any clear goal in sight. What was there left to do when you have lost so much?

It felt wrong, looking at the night sky and finding it no different to all the times you used to look at it together. The world was cruel like that, it didn't care about your loss.

The world doesn't care, people do. That is one of the most valuable lessons becoming part of Whitebeard's crew had taught you.

Now the uncaring stars slowly faded to make way for the dawning sun.

You laid down a bouquet of flowers on your father's grave. "I have to go my own way again.", you told him. You had already said your goodbyes to the remainders of the crew. This was your last stop before the rest of the world. After spending so much time mourning and fighting, it was time for you to move on, to live for yourself again. You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Thank you for everything, pops!", you almost choked on your words and had to take a moment to gather yourself. It may get easier with time but it will never just be easy.

You turned to the second grave and had to smile at the sight of a certain hat. "Don't worry, I'll be safe.", you reassured him. Your eyes wandered up into the sky. No more stars to admire. "I wonder if they look the same wherever you are now."

Taking a step backwards you looked at both graves for a last time. "I miss you and I won't ever forget you.", with that you bowed shortly and then turned around to go.

A gust of wind ruffled your hair and for a second the air carried a faint smell like- "Bonfire." You took a deep breath and continued walking down the hill. Your steps becoming faster and faster until you were running and you haven't felt this weightless in such a long time, you thought you might just lift off the ground completely and fly.

(You passed a young man in a tophat on your way down.)

#portgas d. ace #one piece #op ace #portgas d ace x reader #one piece reader insert #marco the phoenix #op thatch #one piece whitebeard #whitebeard pirates #fluff #soft #a bit sappy #slight angst #sappy is my brand now apparently #maybe someday i will get over putting stars in my fic #today is not the day #if the ghosts of your loved ones don't come to tell you goodbye what are you even doing #bonfire #the scribbles

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nerdwholikesword · 5 years ago

Text

What If I Never Get Over You Part 2

Even though i thought this was just going to be a two part fic, ive decided to make it longer.

Next part should be up tomorrow.

Catch up below

Part 1

Present Time

Y/N cant help but think back to that night as she lays watching Julia Roberts and Richard Gere fight after the Polo Match in Pretty Woman. Maybe she shouldn't have walked out on John the minute he uttered those 5 words. Maybe she should have stayed and tried to make him see sense. Who was she kidding. She could have stayed for hours begging but that stubborn old fucker had made his mind up and she was way too proud to beg someone to choose her.

After a few more days of crying and being angry at the world Y/N had to go back to work. Thank god her work place was nowhere near John. Y/N worked in a publishing house called Simon & Schuster, and even though her degree was the reason she met John but she got that job and that degree all on her own. Y/N made sure that was clear from the beginning of her relationship with John. This had apparently made her English Professor want her more and that's how this all began.

Walking into work she was greeted by her boss Sara, who on a good day wasn't very pleasant. Sara was the Editor in Chief of the publishing department so it was Y/N's job to report to Sara and acquire and read manuscripts and pass them on. But most of the time Y/N just took manuscripts off Sara and edited them to her liking and threw the not so good ones in the bin. Sara always reminded Y/N of Sandra Bullocks character in The Proposal.

" Y/N wow a week off? did somebody die?" Sara Asked, ever the optimist this woman.

"No Sara i was just very sick but i'm back and ready to be put to work. " Y/N told her in the hopes it would end the conversation.

Sara looked Y/N up and down and must have decided her answer was okay because she went straight to business and told Y/N there was 42 manuscripts waiting for her on her desk.

After a long week of working and trying to get threw 42 manuscripts Y/N was actually starting to feel okay, sure she still missed John and okay she cries every break time when shes alone but it's okay. Work will keep her busy and maybe instead of picking up just wine and ice cream at the corner store tonight on the way home Y/N would actually catch some dinner with a work colleague. Jenny was always asking for her to have a drink every friday at the end of the day. Y/N never said yes because she always ran home to John, he never made her do it but Y/N did anyway so she could see him as soon as possible.

Y/N was walking towards the elevators to leave when she seen Jenny with a few others she had seen around the office. Now was as good as any time to build up the courage and ask Jenny if she could join. If she said no she said no, i mean Y/N did say no for 6 months. Maybe she should just go home to her wine and ice cream.

" Hey Jenny? is that invite still open? " Y/N asked walking up behind her at the elevator.

Jenny turned around and upon seeing who it was smiled. "Of course Y/N, it's about time you said yes" she told her.

***********************************************************

Y/N should have said yes to drinks and dinner with Jenny months ago, they were currently onto their 3rd cocktail and second bar of the evening and loving life. She had learned the other girls were actually really nice and not at all stuck up like Y/N had assumed. Another of the girls, Olivia was currently going through a break up as well but unlike Y/N she was already onto the stage where she's ready to try moving on and is currently chatting up a guy at the bar. Y/N was definitely not there yet, she still had a hard time looking at the pictures of her and John in the apartment.

Y/N was feeling very buzzed and she lost count of the amount of cocktails she had and once Jenny had brought out the tequila shots that was it, she had to leave or she would be out all night. Y/N decided a uber was her safest option right now. She was standing on the corner looking at her phone waiting her the uber who was 7 minutes away. in her drunken state she thought it would be okay to ring John. Just check in with him she told herself.

So close to pressing call over the last 3 weeks now that she was actually calling him her heart was beating out of her chest. Ring..... ring..... Ring.... Hang up Y/N he's not going to answer

He fucking answered

"Ba.. Y/N? " was he going to call her baby?

"John? "

"Yeah its me Y/N. Everything okay? its 1 in the morning" john told her his voice sounded husky like it did first thing in the morning. Y/N stop it

" erm I'm Dnunk, I mean Drunk." Shit Y/N get yourself together

" Drunk? Y/N where are you right now?" she could hear him sighing.

" I'm waiting for my Uber John, i don't have to tell yuo anything anymore " she slurred.

"you rang me baby"

"goodbye John" Y/N told him as she hung up on him. She was still baby to him, just a slip of the tongue maybe?

Her Uber driver beeped at her and that was the end of the drama. Y/N went home and found her ice cream and still ended her night crying into a pint of ice cream over John Winchester.

She fell asleep thinking one thing.

John called me Baby

*******************************************************************************************

Part 3 will be up tomorrow.

please like and reblog.

Leave a comment and i'll be forever grateful.

#john winchester x reader #john winchester #professor!john #Professeor Winchester #jdm x reader #JDM #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #negan #spn fanfiction #SPN FANDOM #SPNFamily #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #reader insert #supernatural #supernatural family

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gaycrouton · 6 years ago

Note

prompt, times mulder seen scully in her underwear before they got together

I’m not sure if someone in particular on here has a capital on the numbered short ficlets combined, but I love the style so much I wanted to try it out. Hope they don’t mind!

He was right. It probably wasn’t the first thought that should have come to his mind as his frightened, pretty new partner dropped her robe in the middle of his motel room, but it was. Reasonable, functional, and somehow enticing. A nude bra, beige or white maybe, that matched her panties perfectly. The lights from the candle distorted the color as the flames flickered across her mosquito-bitten back, but he saw enough to confirm that the brief passing thought in his mind from earlier had been correct. It was too quick to be called a fantasy, too titillating to be called a passing thought, yet it brought him a great sense of satisfaction to know he’d pegged this new agent correctly.

She’d been sternly lecturing him and he’d been hanging off of every word. He couldn’t remember another instance of someone shooting his theory to shit being so exciting. Something about the no-nonsense manner of her voice, the way her eyebrow cocked as if inviting him to disagree with her, the way she seemed to enjoy the back and forth as much as he did – he wasn’t sure what about this workplace conversation had him raking his eyes over her body and thinking what was under the unflattering suit she wore like armour as soon as she turned around.

What he did know now was that he’d pictured it perfectly.

Good to know.

He really would’ve taken Scully as the type to wear an undershirt. That theory was shot to hell as he stared straight down the top of her sagging blouse and he was given a perfect view of her round breasts encased in a light pink bra, the little bow in between reminding him how much of a gift this really was.

Dana Scully

He only got to look for the same amount of time it took her to write those two words underneath his own sloppy signature on the expense report, not that he was trying to look. He’d just been staring in that direction when she bent over in front of him to sign the form, the cap of the pen gripped lazily between two ruby red lips.

He could see what he hadn’t last time. Freckles. Little tiny dots littering her chest. When he looked up he knew he’d see matching ones on the bridge of her nose, regardless of how much she tried to hide them. What he saw was his suspicions confirmed, and a pair of amused, yet chastising, blue eyes boring into his.

He coughed nervously and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” His eyes darted around the room as if pretending that’s what they’d been doing the whole time. He just hoped whoever got to see that present unwrapped it carefully.

She extended her hand out to him and he took the pen she was offering back. “Have a nice weekend, Mulder,” she replied in a teasing tone, jovial but not wanting to reward him. He held his breath until he heard the sound of her heels become a faint echo.

He tried to not focus on whatever, whoever, she was going to that inspired her to curl her hair today and wear a nice, lacy, pink bra.

Her lipstick was still on the cap of his pen, and though he partially wanted to preserve the imprint, he couldn’t stop his finger from darting out and watching the creamy mark transfer from the plastic of the pen onto the pad of his skin. Pulling back, he stared mesmerized by the bit of coral smudge.

A little bit of Scully on his fingertips. And, in the ultimate act of juvenile longing, he kissed his own finger to feel what her lipstick would feel on his mouth – traces of an exchange that never happened.

In the real world, that is.

III

Peanut Butter and Jelly, Night and Day, Scully Screaming and Mulder Running, some things just naturally went together. Tonight was no different. He’d just gotten into his pyjamas, or more accurately - stripped into his pyjamas-, when he heard an uncharacteristically high-pitched scream come from the otherside of the adjoining door. “Scully?” he yelled in concern.

“Mulder!” she shouted in response.

He didn’t need much more than that to burst into her room, gun blazing and alert. Mulder swept his eyes across the room and ultimately landed on Scully’s form. She was in the corner of the room, naked minus a pair of dark blue panties. Her breasts were being firmly held by her hands, inadvertently exaggerating her cleavage, as she precariously sat on an end table.

His heart dropped as he feared the worst. A screaming Scully was never good, but a nearly-naked screaming Scully scared him worse. He turned and started stomping around the room, expecting to see a man hiding in some corner - his attempt to attack Scully thwarted and now he was trying to leave.

He’d kill him.

…but he couldn’t find anything. He turned back to Scully and urgently asked, “What happened, Scully?”

“There’s a snake in my bed!” she whispered, pointing urgently while sliding slowly off the table, keeping one arm and hand securing her chest.

His eyes accidentally slid down as she did this and he, for the millionth time but none as viscerally as this, appreciated her toned body. She was sculpted like a statue and had to turn away quickly before embarrassing himself.

Lowering his gun, he nodded and made his way towards her mattress, slowly drawing back the sheets until he was met with a dangerous looking, but non-lethal, common snake. He chuckled softly before grabbing the snake by the middle. “Mulder, no!” she lurched, grabbing his shoulder lightly.

“Scully, this is just a garden snake,” he laughed, bringing it to the door and tossing it onto the gravel before closing the door and turning around. He almost ran over Scully, who’d come up behind him quietly as his apparent back-up even though she was scared herself.

They were closer than either of them had anticipated and he realized he was just as naked as she was. She was apparently noticing that too as her eyes were focused lower than they’d ever been during office hours. “Are you okay?” he asked, making her eyes comically shoot back up to his as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I thought it was worse,” she chuckled self consciously, bringing her other hand back up to her chest to give herself more coverage, bringing Mulder’s gaze along with it.

She must’ve been getting ready for bed because her face was devoid of all makeup and he could smell some faint moisturizer on her. She must’ve lotioned her whole body too because she seemed to be absolutely glistening under the dim lamp light emanating from the bedside.

“N-no, don’t be sorry. I’m um, I’m glad to help,” he offered lamely.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “Oh-uh,” she started, turning around. “Sorry, I called you in while I was practically naked,” she apologized.

Or at least, he thinks that’s what she said, because as she left to grab her robe, all he could focus on was the way her underwear wasn’t full coverage. The sides of her rounded ass were visible as she walked over and that, combined with the elegance of her exposed back, had him crossing his hands in front of himself as he refused her apology and ran into his room.

He wished her a goodnight before closing the door, and he laid in bed that night and wondered if she had any idea the effect she had on him.

She’d been staying at his apartment for the past two days because they were repainting her apartment. This morning she insisted it wasn’t fair that she was eating all his food and not paying him back, so, despite his adamance she didn’t need to, she was off on a run to the store.

In their newfound routine, something he found simple joy in, it became an unspoken rule that she’d shower first and he’d go in after her. He loved it because the steam in the shower just heightened the smell of her floral shampoo and he felt engulfed in her scent.

So after she left, he made his way to the bathroom, stripping carelessly as he went. When he closed the door behind him, he turned to the towel rack and was stunned to see a thin, strappy bra hanging next to his striped towel. Staying dead silent for a moment to make absolutely sure she was gone, despite having just witnessed her leave himself. When he was confident she was gone, he picked up the scrap of fabric and felt it in his hands. Part of him felt like a kid again, finding small clues to the intricacies of womanhood that were still a mystery to him.

This was Scully’s bra.

This bra had touched her naked breasts.

And now it was in his hands.

He gently hand his hands over the cups and tried to commit the size difference to memory. She was on the smaller size, but they were bountiful nonetheless. He’d spent hours thinking about them and imagining what they’d look like, and now he had a piece of the puzzle in his very hands.

He noticed part of the underwire, if that’s what it’s called, was sticking out from the middle and he realized all the times in the past few weeks he’d seen her grabbing at the middle of her chest and tugging was because the wire had been poking her.

34B, he noted on the side band. He contemplated if she’d find it weird if he bought her a new bra. He felt bad if this one was causing her pain – it had to have been a favorite if she kept insisting on wearing it despite the pain. He decided the worst thing she could do was call him a pervert, it wouldn’t be the first time. Hell, after spending two nights here and accidentally catching sight of his morning wood both times, it honestly couldn’t be that bad. He just had to decide what kind to get her.

He spent the entire shower thinking about what type would fit her best before, quite literally, coming to the decision to get her another black, strappy one.

108 degrees. Record setting in the state and they just happened to be on a case in the area to be able to experience it. Hot enough to make any person sleep in their underwear.

Sometimes he forgot Scully fell under the category of ‘any person’ since he didn’t categorize her that way himself.

It was that slip up which caused him to be so taken aback when he walked into her motel room, without knocking as he’d later chastise himself for, and saw her sprawled on the bed in a forest green bra and deep purple underwear. The sight alone made him hard as a rock and lose all ability to think rationally.

He was about to apologize when he realized the lights in the room were off and she was sound asleep, the even rise and fall of her chest signalling she had probably been for a while now.

He felt his foot yearning to step forward and get a better look, but instead he turned around and closed the door as softly as he could. She’d done five autopsies back to back today. The last thing she deserved was her partner coming into her room and ogling her nearly-naked sleeping form.

She didn’t deserve to have him muffling her name in his fist as he came all over the shower tiles while thinking of her, but he only had so much willpower.

Green was his favorite color on her, after all.

She didn’t close the door and all the sudden he was a horny teenage boy again.

This situation had occurred with varying frequency through the seven years of their partnership; they came over to her place to finish a report, watch a movie, eat something, whatever it may be. “I’m just going to change into something more comfortable. Make yourself at home,” she’d say as she made her way down the hall into her bedroom, closing the door behind her as he tried to imagine what was happening behind the mahogany that blocked his view.

There was no imagining this time and his brain was short circuiting from it.

He watched as she walked into her bedroom, not sparing the door a second glance, as she grabbed the bottom hem of her sweater and whipped it over her head, revealing she hadn’t been wearing more than a thin white bra underneath it all day. He felt like he needed to turn around, but he was frozen in place.

She then grabbed the stretchy hem of her skirt and pulled it down her legs, bending over as she did so so he got a full look at her rounded ass.

A thong.

A fucking white little thong.

He felt all the blood in his body rush to his groin as he watched Aphrodite herself make the most mundane task seem highly erotic. He knew he was gaping as she reached behind her back and unclasp her bra, revealing more skin to him than he ever remembered seeing under favorable circumstances.

He knew that he should probably leave, avert his gaze, fucking anything other than stand here and let his hard on tent his pants like a cartoon.

But she’d never left the door open before and if there was one thing Fox Mulder did, it was look for signs. He realized she was staring in front of a mirror and he couldn’t stop himself from looking.

Pink, perfect ovals with taut, hardened tips reflected back at him on top of her creamy heavy breasts. He swore this was the image men wanted to be their last. This was what pure heaven was like. He felt his eyes flutter lightly from pure arousal as he bit his lip, thanking whatever god was out there that allowed him to be blessed with this visage.

As he looked up a little more, he realized this thanks were just being directed to the god in the other room as Scully stared straight back at him through the mirror. A coy, self-satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, she turned around - not caring to conceal her fully revealed breasts from his attention - as she closed the door. He swore to god she even winked at him, the very last thing he saw before she disappeared behind the wooden door.

She came out in her silk pyjamas with no mentioning of the mini-strip tease. She let him see what she wanted him to see under her terms. Terms he was more than willing to follow.

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #msr fanfic #x files fanfic #mulder and scully #ust

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mistymark · 6 years ago

Text

the one with all the spoilers.

part of the 50 things you said project // mark lee x reader // 4.2k words // university!au // strangers to lovers!au // masterlist // send in requests here

summary; things you said when we were the only ones left

warnings; drunk donghyuck, jeno and jaemin

request; this is for the 50 things you said works. I would like 31 with Mark, but could it be at the same roof party of that Renjun fic? I just thought it would be suuuuuper cute if oc was invited to Haechan's party and instead hanging out with Mark the entire night. Thank you!! 😘 (you can read the first fic here)

notes; I know it has been a loooonnnggg time since ive posted but ive been really trying to make this specific story as good as possible,,,, so I hope y’all like it. (sporadically edited)

You were late. You were so very late, and the bumper-to-bumper traffic was not helping. “Are we far away?” you asked the taxi driver, leaning forward in your seat only to see red brake lights and a long line of stopped vehicles in front of you.

“It might be faster to get out and walk, miss,” the driver informs you, leaning out his window to see what has caused such a delay on the normally-flowing road.

You thank the taxi driver and hand over the amount of money due, with a tip for his troubles, and run down the street, passing all the stopped cars in a blur. Without looking at what has caused the build up of traffic, you look down at your phone, hastily trying to figure out what street Donghyuck lives on now. You had previously been neighbours, for almost two years, but he had left a few months ago, opting to move in with one of his friends in a nicer apartment a few blocks down from you.

He’d sent you detailed instructions on how to get there from your workplace, knowing you’d get lost, but you were still unable to interpret his badly drawn Snapchat diagrams.

You eventually found the bakery he was referring to in his map, and turned left, walking towards some large apartment buildings. You figured you were in the right place and walked in, making your way up to his floor. When you arrived at the apartment, 6G, you couldnt hear any noise apart from the soft murmuring of two people talking and you hoped you weren’t too late and everyone had already gone home. You’d told Donghyuck you had work that day, and said you’ll be a bit late, but thirty minutes after your guaranteed time of arrival; you still hadn’t shown.

You knocked on the door. The murmurs stopped and you heard the door being unlocked, before being opened. Your eyes widened in shock at the boy before you, and you instantly looked down at your phone, suddenly unsure if you’d come to the right place as you took in the (rather attractive) boy’s appearance. He was dressed in flannel pyjama pants and a plain black tee, round glasses perched on his nose and a bowl of popcorn in his hand. He appeared to be the only one in the apartment. “Um, is this building 127 on 92nd?”

He smiled, “Yeah. Are you here for Hyuck’s birthday?” He turned around slightly, placing the bowl on a nearby table as you nodded shyly before opening the door wider to let you in. He made a gesture to his clothes, “Sorry, I thought everyone had already arrived.”

“Oh! Er, no problem,” you tried to smile back and hide the shame you were feeling, before asking where you should put your present.

He gestured to the dining table, where various presents had been stacked haphazardly on top of each other. When he caught a glimpse of the tag on your gift, his eyes widened in realisation, “You’re y/n! Hyuck said you were going to be late. I completely forgot.”

You laughed with him, stealing a glance at the TV behind him, which happened to be playing your favourite TV show. No wonder you thought you’d heard voices when you first arrived.

He gestured to the window beside you, ‘giving you directions’ to get to the roof where the rest of the party was being held.

“You’re not coming?” You asked, surprised.

He leant against the couch and patted the back fondly, “Nope, I’m staying here. Holding down the fort.”

“Just like Hyuck not to invite his own roommate to his party,” you grinned mischievously, not giving him the chance to dispute as you disappeared up the fire escape.

When you climbed over the edge and onto the roof, you sought out Donghyuck, as he was pretty much the only person you would know at this party. You’d met a few of his friends before while you were neighbours - Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun, specifically - but there were at least thirty people up here who you’d never even seen before.

You found Hyuck talking to two boys by the entryway, the latter both holding fireworks and with disappointed looks on their faces. He looked up as you approached, “Look who finally decided to show up!” Donghyuck patted the taller boy’s shoulder as he left and walked over to you, arms out for a hug.

You hugged him, laughing, “Don’t say it like you weren’t three hours late to my birthday.” He squeezed you in response.

“Have you seen Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin, yet? They’ll take care of you if you need it. I know you haven't met a lot of these people yet,” he smiled at you happily, his childish grin showing. He was evidently so happy and you couldnt help but smile back.

“I haven’t actually. I just arrived,” you said, glancing around. You saw Jeno and Jaemin playing drinking games in the dark with a few other people, and Renjun sitting down by the drinks table, alone.

You bid Hyuck goodbye as you walked towards Renjun, greeting him with a one-armed hug and grabbing a drink, before sitting down beside him on the stretched out lawn chair.

“It’s been ages since I last saw you,” he said, clinking his bottle against yours in a toast. “Have you been here the entire night?”

You sighed, “No, I just arrived twenty minutes ago. I had work and then traffic was bad and - it was a whole mess. I’m glad I came, though. I havent seen you and your dumb friends in ages.”

He laughed with you, recalling all the outrageous pranks and activities the 00 line had attempted whilst Hyuck lived next door to you. “I bet you don’t miss us,” he looked away, watching Jeno cheer for someone taking a shot and smiling.

“Believe it or not but you guys were better than the young married couple I live next to now,” you wrinkled your nose. “Let’s just say I try to take night shifts as often as possible.”

He cringed at your words and laughed, before looking up as Donghyuck approached, rather frantic, “Hey, y/n, could you duck downstairs and grab the case of beer in my bedroom? Mark will show you where it is.”

You stood up immediately, “Of course.” You turned to leave before turning back, “Um, quick question: who is Mark?”

Donghyuck had already rushed off, eyeing a stumbling partygoer by the drinks table worriedly. Renjun stayed sitting on the chair, lifting his beer up to his lips, “Mark’s Donghyuck’s roommate. The guy probably opened the door for you.”

You feel your eyebrows raise in realisation, and you’re suddenly embarrassed that you hadn't previously asked him his name, especially since you thought he was rather cute. “Oh,” you turn to leave. “Tell Hyuck I’ll be back in a second.”

You entered the apartment through the window, climbing in and attempting to not kick the flowerpot off the shelf beside it as you did. You landed nimbly on your feet and clapped your hands together, causing Mark to jump in his seat on the couch and turn around to you, “Oh God! You scared me.” You walked in the direction of the bedrooms, briefly checking which part of the show he was watching and he called out after you, “Hey! Bathroom is here!”

You stopped in the corridor, the doors to the two bedrooms on either side of you. You pointed to each one in turn, “I’m looking for Hyuck’s room. Which one?”

He didn’t bother turning around, his eyes glued to the screen, as he yelled, “Left!”

You searched Donghyuck’s room for the case of beer, before standing up with your hands on your hips, “Hey, Mark? Where’s the beer?”

“Closet!” His voice was muffled by a handful of food.

“It’s not here!” You shouted back, before mumbling under your breath, “Unless I’m blind.”

He leant back on the couch to better see where you were and his mouth fell open when he realised you were in the wrong room, his room. “Oh, um, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You poked your head around the door and leant against the wall, your cheek squishing against the doorframe. Mark’s lips quirked up a fraction at your pout.

“That’s... that’s my room. Hyuck’s is the other one.”

You immediately jumped back from the door, trying not to make eye contact as you shut the door and went into the bedroom opposite, “Oh, sorry. I thought you said left.” You attempted to hide your blush that was rising up your neck due to your embarrassment, wondering how how you could have been so stupid as to start going through a stranger’s bedroom.

“Right, yeah, sorry. My bad. Are you taking it up to the roof?” You heard him call from the couch, and you pulled your phone out to check the time.

You placed it on the bed and eyed the case again, “Yeah.”

You could hear him let out a laugh, “Good luck with that.”

Stumbling out of Hyuck’s bedroom, the case in hand, you glared at him, “Gee, thanks for your help.”

Mark smirked, “You’re welcome.” Smartass, you thought.

You made your way to the door, before turning around, quickly shouting before it closed behind you, “By the way, she dies in the next episode! He ends up marrying her best friend!”

As the door slams shut, from you pulling it with your foot, you hear him groan and shout behind you. Smirking to yourself, you make your way up the stairs.

Hyuck thanks you for bringing all the beer up and you smile, insisting it was no problem. You crack a cold one with the boys one open and look around the crowd, Donghyuck departing once again to talk to his guests.

You spot Jeno under one of the food tables, rummaging through boxes of supplies as Jaemin stands behind him, his posture slack and foot tapping against the ground in an attempt to appear casual. Jeno whoops in success and jumps up, a roll of duct tape in hand. You grin at them, knowing they’re up to no good but not wanting to spoil their fun.

You don't see Renjun anywhere, so you reach for your phone to check your messages, only to find the pocket you normally keep it in is empty. You pat yourself down, searching all your pockets for your phone, before realising you probably left it in Donghyuck’s room when you went to fetch more beer.

Climbing down the fire escape again, you enter Donghyuck’s apartment and make your way to his room, not bothering to greet Mark this time. He does a double take as he sees you walking, staring after you and hurriedly looking away as soon as you walk out of the bedroom, your hand sliding your phone into your pocket.

When you make your way back to the window, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen, “Hey, does she really die next episode?”

You turn around and watch the screen momentarily, making sure you got the right episode and weren't getting mixed up. When you don’t respond, Mark turns his head back a little. He watches you silently.

Your eyes snap down to his and you watch his eyebrows raise every so slightly, “Yeah, I’m sure. She goes to the wedding planner after they get engaged and-”

“They get engaged?!”

“Oh, yeah. It’s real cute. He’s all like ‘You’re so gorgeous will you do me a gosh darn favour and be my gosh darn wife’ and then she says ‘Oh YES I love you so passionately, my love is like a thousand burning stars!” He laughs as you lower and raise your voice to imitate the actors.

You quirk an eyebrow at him before turning around to leave, but he spins around in his seat, his arms coming to rest on top of the couch, “And then what happens?”

He’s staring at you so cutely, you can’t help but blush a little bit, “I - er... well, she says yes, obviously and then- OH WAIT NO THIS IS THE GOOD PART SHH!” You quickly run forward and snatch the remote from the arm of the couch, turning up the volume and staring at the TV with wide eyes.

You’re standing behind the couch now, subconsciously clutching the remote close to your chest as you watch the plot unravel on the screen, unaware of the fact that Mark is watching you.

When five minutes go by, and the credits are rolling, you start walking backwards towards the fire escape, your eyes on Mark, “I told you the engagement was lame. Next episode is the engagement party, I think, so enjoy that.”

“You don’t want to keep watching?” He asks, standing up with the empty chip bowl in his hand. “Hyuck won’t mind.”

You hesitate. You’d been here for less than an hour, and only spoken to Donghyuck briefly because he was so busy. And if you were being completely honest, you had jumped at the chance to help with the beer just because you didn’t have anything else to do. While you’d been chatting to Renjun, other people had come up and introduced themselves, but you either couldn’t remember their name or weren’t interested in talking to them again after your meagre conversation.

You bite the corner of your lip in thought, before nodding slowly, watching as he empties another packet of chips into the large bowl. “Sure. And I promise, no more spoilers.”

He grinned at your answer and then pouted mockingly before walking back over to the couch. It was only now that you realised how ill-fitting Donghyuck’s furniture was. When he had moved in with Mark, they had obviously kept whatever furniture they previously owned and put it in the new apartment, despite the fact that Mark’s modern, stark white dining table and chairs contrasted to Donghyuck’s old brown leather sofa and wooden table.

The three-seater couch sat opposite the TV, and you happily plopped yourself down on one side, Mark placing the bowl of chips between you two in offering. He pressed play on the remote.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it was getting late, and you were at least another five episodes into the show. Mark had assured you Donghyuck told his drunken guests to leave via the stairwell rather than the fire escape (to prevent any injuries) so you were left virtually undisturbed. Two people (one who Mark addressed as Johnny) climbed in through the window and left, and you assumed the tall boy was taking the other home.

Renjun poked his head in the front door as he left to bid you a quick farewell and a ‘let’s catch up soon’, one arm around the much larger bodies of drunk Jaemin and Jeno. The party was still going on. When you slid your phone off the table, you noticed it was past midnight, and you were growing tired. You leant your head back and, when you looked over at Mark, your eyes slowly shutting, you realised he was already passed out on the couch.

It was sometime after three when Donghyuck stumbled into the apartment, carrying a box of decorations and trays. He had kicked the door open, dismissing the loud slam it made as it swung into the wall, and placed the box at the entrance of the apartment, before promptly disappearing into his room and face planting onto his bed.

The loud bang had disturbed your peaceful slumber, and your eyes began fluttering open, your mind screaming at you to go back to sleep. You could’ve gone back to sleep right there and then, bringing the pillow closer to your face but it was at that moment that you realised this was not a pillow, but was actually the soft black material of Mark’s shirt. Apparently, while you were sleeping, you had leant towards him slightly, your body weight causing you to lean diagonally towards Mark, who had shifted so that he was now with sleeping with one arm on the arm rest and one around you, sitting up slightly due to his previous sitting position.

His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to his stomach as you used him as a pillow, his legs outstretched and off the side of the couch. You attempted to move out of his hold, but he groaned, his other arm reaching down to hold you in place, “No. Stay.”

Suddenly, there was another loud bang as Donghyuck threw his bedroom door open in search of water and began making his way to the kitchen. The sudden noise made you jump in your half-asleep state, and you felt Mark stir as he blinked his eyes open, looking down at you in shock.

You were sure your face mirrored his, the surprise evident on your face.

You pushed yourself up and began gathering your things. It was at this point Donghyuck noticed you, “Oh, y/n! What a surprise! I’m so glad you came tonight, I had a wonderful time.” His eyes flickered to the couch as Mark sat up drearily, “Hey Ma- oh. My mistake. Forgive me. Have a good night.”

Donghyuck disappeared back into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him and you sighed, “I’d better get going.”

“What? You’re exhausted and it’s 3:30am. As if I’m going to let you drive home at this hour,” Mark said, standing up and fixing up the cushions on the couch. His eyes were half closed as he brought the dirty bowl to the kitchen.

“I was going to walk, or Uber,” you said.

“That’s dumb; you could literally be murdered. And that’s impractical - what Ubers would be out at this hour?”

“Well, how do you suggest I get home then?” Maybe it was the tiredness, but his snarky smartass attitude was getting on your nerves again. He was acting the same way he had been when you’d come to collect the beer case.

“I’m saying you should stay here,” Mark’s voice changed, becoming softer, quieter.

“I shouldn’t-,” you immediately attempted to dismiss his kindness, but he argued back.

“It’s fine, you can sleep in my bed,” he watched your eyes widen and hid a smile as he glanced down at the floor. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Right, of course,” you said, eventually relenting and then helping him grab the last of the snacks from the couch.

He gestured towards his room, “Well, you know which one is mine. I have an early class tomorrow so I might not see you, but Donghyuck will be here so...” Mark set a pillow down, smirking at you, as he settled in on the couch, disappearing from view from where you stood behind it, “Sleep well.”

When you walked backed into Mark’s room, you couldnt help but notice how obviously Mark it was. When you were in it the first time, you hadn’t really been paying attention to it, focussing on finding the beer Hyuck had stashed. Now, you could fully appreciate the colours, the decorations, the organisation, everything that was completely Mark.

You noticed a spare blanket and pillow on his bed, and immediately pulled them into the living room, dropping them on Mark’s stomach before making your way back to his bedroom. You didn’t let yourself watch for his reaction.

The next morning, you woke up to Donghyuck lying across his couch, his hand clutching his head as he groaned in pain. He had shrieked when he first saw you walking out of Mark’s bedroom, thinking he was the only one home, and then almost cried because his own shout was so loud. You began to make him breakfast, but he insisted he couldn't eat and would wait until Mark came home from class, so you made yourself pancakes.

“Hey, can I get Mark’s number?” you asked casually, biting a piece of pancake.

Immediately, the younger boy sat bolt upright from the couch, his eyes wide in shock, “What?”

“Err... your roommate. Can I have his number?” You continued eating your breakfast, watching him closely.

“What do you want his number for?” Hyuck questioned, his elbow coming to rest on the back of the couch as he pressed his palm to his forehead.

“I wanted to thank him,” you said, straightening your back subconsciously at the subtle accusation in Donhyuck’s question. “I had a good time last night.”

“Ughhhh, y/n! I don’t want to hear that!”

“What? Oh, God, no. Donghyuck, no! Gross,” you turned back to face your plate, avoiding the boy’s gaze.

He sighed, dropping dramatically back onto the couch, “Fine, whatever. Grab me my phone, then. It’s on the bench over there, I think.”

“Uhh, what happened to it?” The phone screen was smashed beyond repair, and the phone was bent slightly in half. The forward-facing camera was dislodged, and the buttons were stiff, as if, when pressed, nothing would happen. When you pointed this fact out to Donghyuck, he groaned and threw it at the wall, ignoring the shattering sound of the glass screen as he flopped backwards onto the couch.

“Mark will know,” he mumbled into a pillow.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay last night. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You began to put on your coat as you searched for your handbag in the messy apartment.

The door swung open and Mark walked in, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a plain white tee, with a dark bomber jacket to compliment the outfit. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, and you were unsure whether he looked better or worse without them.

He hung up his jacket on the rack, briefly glancing at both you and Hyuck as he did, “Oh! Y/n! I didn’t think you’d be here when I got back.” He shot you a grin, but you missed it as you finally grabbed your bag and slung it over you shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m heading off now. Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you walked past him to the door, sending him a small smile before yelling at Haechan just to frustrate him in his hungover state.

You left, and walked down the stairs of the building, berating yourself for not asking Mark for his number. The guy was easily the most attractive person you’d ever seen, and you liked the same TV shows. What you were thinking was: you’re basically soulmates.

With newfound determination, you spun on your heel and marched back to the apartment door, convincing yourself you were confident enough to get the boy’s number. You breathed deeply, before raising your hand to knock.

Before your hand could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, and suddenly a body slammed rather strongly into you. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Mark, you recognised his scent, and his voice when he began apologising.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” His hands gripped your waist as he simultaneously tried to hold you up and push you out of his way gently.

“No, no, it’s-”

Finally, his brain seemed to have caught up to the situation. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him. One arm was still wrapped securely around your waist, holding you flush against his body.

His eyes awkwardly flittered elsewhere, focussing on anything and everything as long as it wasn’t your face, “I, uh, was trying to catch you.”

You looked at your hand that was placed on his chest, “Well, here I am.” There was a lengthy pause. “What’s up?”

He cocked his head to the side, before pulling you up and slightly stepping back, clearing his throat, “Wait. What are you doing here? Did you forget something?”

You glanced at your feet, suddenly insecure that he had just let you go whilst you were here trying to confess your feelings. “I... No. I actually came back to ask you for your number.”

His face lit up at your words, a large, happy smile stretching across his face as he suddenly reached into his pocket, producing a small square of paper, “I was going to catch you and give you this.”

You raised an eyebrow at it before plucking it from his fingers and opening the note. The words ‘call me’ were printed above his phone number, and below, a message:

spoiler alert! we go on a date :)

You laughed at his reference to the night before, during which you had spoiled many episode endings.

“Well? Is that a yes? I can’t tell,” he asked, stepping forward a little.

“Definitely,” you smiled, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as your faces drew closer, and closer, and closer, and-

“MARK, CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE ME A QUESADILLA?” Donghyuck’s voice interrupted what was almost a kiss, and Mark giggled, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll continue this later.” Then he stepped back, gave your hand a squeeze and shut the door of his apartment.

there u have it kiddos!!! my first post in like two months lol (sorry, love u)

#nct #nct 127 #nct 2018 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct writing #nct fanfic #nct texts #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #mark lee #nct mark #lee mark #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #mark fluff #nct mark fluff #nct fluff

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your-kpopmama · 6 years ago

Text

Uninvited- Jikook ABO- 14/??

AN: so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yep

Jungkook raced out of the building and into the car park. Driving like a bat out of hell he made it to Jimin’s apartment in less than ten minutes, breaking about a dozen traffic laws on the way. How sick was Jimin?

Thoughts were racing through his head so fast he didn’t even realize what was going on until it was too late. He was outside Jimin’s apartment door when he first noticed the scent. Vanilla and raspberries so strong it almost made him choke, but there was something else mixed in. Something more primal.

Something Jungkook’s inner Alpha was begging to get to.

“Fuck.” He groaned as he pulled his phone from his pocket, clumsily dialing Jimin’s number.

“H-hello?” Jimin moaned.

He MOANED.

Jungkook closed his eyes and willed whatever God was listening to give him strength.

“Jimin? It’s Jungkook. I’m outside your apartment but..I don’t think it’s safe for me to come in.” He explained.

Jimin whimpered on the other side of the phone, “I need to go to the doctor though. Listen Ill come out okay? Don’t, Dont w-worry.”

“No! No. Please for the love of god stay inside. You’re in heat, Jimin. How do you not know this?” Jungkook groaned as he leaned his head against the cool metal of the door.

“S’too early. Something is wrong.” Jimin whined weakly. “I need you.”

Jungkook slammed his head into the door in frustration, “Please don’t say things like that Jimin. I am struggling outside your door already.”

Jimin was silent save for the rustling sounds on his end. Jungkook waited silently until he heard the locks being undone on the other side of the door.

Jungkook jumped back when Jimin struggled to open his front door. His body coated in a sheen of sweat that Jungkook watched bead up and roll down the Omega’s neck before pooling into the collar of his drenched tshirt.

“J-jimin?” Jungkook breathed.

“Jungkook.” His name rolled off Jimin’s tongue so soft, so sensually, Jungkook almost passed out from how good it felt hearing it. “Please. Come in.”

“Jimin, I don’t think that’s a good idea..”

But here he was, being yanked into the older Omega’s apartment by the wrist and dragged through the door, only to be slammed into the wall beside the door. Jimin stared at him hungrily, eyes a vibrant gold as his eyes traveled over Jungkook’s face.

“J-jimin. Listen, we can’t do this. Y-you’re not yourself. It’s the heat talking.” Jungkook tried to pry Jimin’s hands from his waist to push him back from his body.

“Don’t you want me, Alpha?” Jimin half whined, half moaned into Jungkook’s neck.

Fuck.

Jungkook was fucked.

“Jimin, please. I’m begging you.” Jungkook felt himself grow hard in his slacks, his body betraying him.

“A begging Alpha?” Jimin licked a trail up Jungkook’s neck to his ear to whisper, “I’d much rather be the one begging.”

Red began to pour into Jungkook’s eyes as Jimin nipped at the soft spot behind his ear. A low growl rumbled from Jungkook’s chest, earning a slight shiver from the Omega.

“I’ve been so good, Alpha.” Jimin whispered hotly in Jungkook’s ear. “Won’t you reward me?”

Jungkook felt his Alpha take over as he roughly grabbed Jimin by the hips and hoisted him up until Jimin’s legs were wrapped securely around Jungkook’s waist. Jimin pointed down the hallway, “bedroom.” Was all he said and Jungkook didn’t need another invitation.

They stumbled down the hallway as the Omega’s lips were busy sucking and biting on the Alpha’s neck pulling low growls from Jungkook.

When they crossed the threshold of the bedroom, Jungkook laid Jimin on his bed before making use of his mouth and kissing the breath out of Jimin.

Jungkook never imagined that this is how their day would go, or that he would be kissing Jimin any time so soon. He had been prepared to wait and work his way into Jimin’s life a little more. Not that he was complaining, but he was ready to work for it.

“T-touch me.” Jimin moaned, grinding his hips and erection up into Jungkook’s body. “Please, Alpha.” His golden eyes locked onto Jungkook’s red ones and Jungkook didn’t wait another second.

He hastily unbuttoned Jimin’s jeans and yanked them off along with his underwear, letting Jimin’s cock fall freely against his stomach. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare as Jimin’s small hand wrapped around his own member and began stroking a slow and teasing rhythm as his golden eyes tracked Jungkook’s every move. “Touch me.” Jimin demanded.

Jungkook broke out of his trance and reached forward slowly before replacing Jimin’s hand with his own, giving it a few slow strokes before daring to look at Jimin.

Jimin smiled teasingly at Jungkook before spreading his legs and letting his hand travel down teasingly, coating his fingers in the slick between his cheeks. Something Jungkook suddenly noticed, and was suddenly fascinated with.

One thing for sure was that Jeon Jungkook had never seen an Omega in heat let alone been with an Omega in heat. Everything was new to him and it turned him on more than he cared to admit.

While one hand continued to stroke Jimin at an agonizingly slow pace, his other hand came to wipe some of the slick from Jimin’s ass, causing Jimin to jerk with a moan, head thrown back with his eyes closed.

“You like that?” Jungkook asked softly.

The Omega whined and nodded his head, “Y-yes. Please do it again.”

Jungkook didn’t need asked twice. He pressed his finger against Jimin’s cheek and swiped up to collect the slick once again before placing his fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling around his digits as he watched Jimin’s eyes widen and his breathing pick up.

“More.” Jimin moaned, begging to be touched.

Jungkook placed his finger back into the slick that seemed to be pouring out of Jimin the more he touched the whimpering Omega. Finger sliding too much, Jungkook’s finger swiped over the rim, sending the Omega into loud moans of pleasure, “Yes, Alpha. There. Touch me there.” He pleaded, almost crying.

A devilish grin spread across Jungkook’s face as he leaned his face down close to Jimin’s ass and began to hungrily lick up the slick that was making a mess all over the Omega. Quickening the pace of his hand that held Jimin’s cock, Jungkook licked over the tight pink muscle.

Jimin bucked his hips upward at the contact throwing the rhythm of the Alpha’s hand, but he didn’t seem to mind as he continued to fuck himself into Jungkook’s hand.

Something in Jungkook snapped at the sight before him. Jimin laying spread out so perfect for him begging him for more was something his Alpha fed off of. Completely giving in to his instincts he leaned away from Jimin and licked the remaining slick from his lips before he stood up to remove his clothes hastily. The Omega crying at the loss of contact and scrambling to touch the Alpha anyway that he could. Jungkook eased Jimin back against the bed as the Omega spread himself open again before he even needed asked.

Leaning down to kiss Jimin hungrily, Jungkook lined his cock against the Omega’s rim ready to push in when the bedroom door flung open.

“Oh my god!” Someone yelled.

Jungkook froze and looked back in horror when he saw Taehyung standing there with his hands over his eyes and nose plugs over his nose before turning and running out.

Jungkook turned back to Jimin who didn’t seem to care as his hands were grabbing at Jungkook’s now half soft cock, trying to get it back up.

“Jimin, wait. Fuck. Wait just a second.” Jungkook jumped up and grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled them on before he chased Taehyung out of the room while Jimin whimpered and begged Jungkook to come back.

“Taehyung, wait!” Jungkook shouted running after the other Alpha.

Taehyung stopped and turned around, his eyes blazing with anger, “What the fuck?” Was his first question.

Jungkook looked ashamed before licking his lips nervously, tasting the slick that remained around his mouth, “Please do not get the wrong idea. I didn’t leave work to come fuck Jimin. I t-thought he was sick and o-one thing lead to another a-and..”

Taehyung cut him off by holding a hand up in the air and fixing an accusatory glare on the young Alpha, “so you were about to fuck him? In this state?”

“Uh...yeah?” Jungkook answered quietly. “Isn’t that normal?”

The older Alpha scoffed and shook his head, “Unless you got explicit permission from him before his heat, you do not. Omegas aren’t themselves in heat. There’s moments of clarity but it’s mostly lust driven and they don’t know what they’re saying or asking. You can’t just touch him, Jungkook. Unless there’s something more to your friendship?”

Hanging his head, Jungkook meekly said no. Thinking over what Taehyung said he suddenly realized at the implications he was trying to make. Jungkook just wasn’t that guy. “What do I do? I can’t leave him.” He whispered.

Taehyung stuck his tongue in his cheek as he watched Jungkook shift nervously on his feet, looking for any ill intent to his Omega friend.

“Stay with Jimin until Hoseok gets home. He said he would be home in two days. All you can really do is hold him and scent him to make it not so bad.” Taehyung instructed, “if it gets too bad I’m sure he’s got some toys in his room somewhere. Just help him out with those. Make sure he eats and drinks something even if it’s just tiny amounts.”

Jungkook nodded, “Okay. Okay hyung. I promise I will take care of him. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I-i don’t know how any of this works.”

Taehyung regarded Jungkook silently before patting him on the head and sighing, “Please Dont make me regret leaving you here. Not only would Yoongi kill me, but Hoseok would skin us both alive and I personally enjoy my skin where it’s at.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.” Jungkook assured.

Without another work Taehyung left, and this time Jungkook locked the door before turning to return to Jimin.

When he turned around though, Jimin was standing in the doorway still naked with a pitiful look on his face. “Alpha..” he whined before stumbling towards Jungkook.

Catching him before he fell, Jungkook scooped Jimin up into his arms and held him close as he carried him back to the bedroom and onto the bed, climbing in beside him and covering the two up.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” Jimin whispered.

“J-jimin I cant. I’m sorry.” His voice strained.

A soft whine escaped Jimin’s lips while his hands mapped out every nook and cranny of Jungkook’s body. “Please. It hurts so bad. Just touch me.”

Jungkook sighed and lifted his wrist to Jimin’s neck and rubbed it gently, watching in amazement as the Omega seemed to relax in his arms.

“Just go to sleep for now, Jimin.” Jungkook whispered.

It wasn’t long until the two were asleep.

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jae-yoonie · 6 years ago

Text

Nothing More - Doyoung (M)

A/N: so like.... this is the first fic i’ve written in a while first of all... so please dont like sh*t on it ok... ima cry jk i wont... but yeahhh... this is also the first one-shot angst ive ever written so like.. i really didn’t know how to end it lmao, maybe i should read more angsts but yeah just a heads up for if you get to the end and youre like wtf is this :)))))))) ok thats all enjoyyy

SCENARIO: For a while you’d been friends with benefits with Doyoung and eventually, you started developing some feelings for him. After a few weeks of emotional torture, you decided it was finally time to let him know.

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst - SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 2,414

You stared up at the blank ceiling above you, dreadfully waiting for the clock to finally hit 5. It was only 3:30, but Doyoung’s practice ended at 5:00 and you were planning to text him and invite him over as soon as he finished.

Today was an important day; you were planning to finally confess to him after being friends with benefits with him for over a year. It was a little nerve wracking considering you were “breaking the rules and conditions” of how friends with benefits works… but you just couldn’t help but develop feeling for him; aside from sex he was actually a really amazing person and it was too difficult for you to overlook. You were just staying hopeful that maybe he had developed some feelings for you too… but until then, you needed to find a way to pass the time. Still having an hour and a half to spare, you decided to just clean up your house so everything was nice and presentable when he finally came over.

“It’s five!” you chimed to yourself, catching a glimpse of the clock just as you finished tidying the last of your things. You reached for your phone as fast as you could, barely even thinking as you typed up your message.

You [5:00 PM]: Hey Doyoung! Can you come over today?

Doyoung [5:01 PM]: Yeah sure! I just finished practice so I’m gonna change and then I’ll head over

You [5:01 PM]: Okay, see you soon!

Doyoung [5:02 PM]: See you!

You could feel your heart pounding while you texted him, the anticipation making you excited but nervous at the same time. Every second dragged as you waited anxiously for his arrival, thoughts about what was about to happen racing through your head. It worried you knowing things may or may not go the way you wanted, but you were staying hopeful… it seemed like he liked you back anyways.

The moment the doorbell rang, you immediately stopped what you were doing and ran to the door, opening it as fast as you could.

“Hey,” you greeted nervously, your heart skipping a beat the moment his eyes met yours.

“Hey,” he replied, a warm smile on his face as he stepped inside.

“How was practice?”

“Other than being tiring, it went really well.”

“That’s good.”

“So… did you miss me?” he smirked, pulling you into him.

“Possibly…” you answered as your gaze fell to the floor, too shy to make eye contact with him.

“Possibly? Well if you don’t need me… I guess I could leave-”

“No!” you yelped, hugging him before he could leave.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. So where shall we, hm? Your room or are you feeling adventurous today?”

“I was thinking… maybe you’d wanna have a nice shower after practice?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Grabbing him by the hand, you hastily led him to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it once the two of you were inside. Without any hesitation he pressed his lips against yours, his hands sliding past your hips and down to your ass, gently groping it before giving it a firm slap.

“Doyoung…” you whined, a smirk curving onto his lips as he resumed his groping.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he remarked brashly, biting his lip as he smacked your ass again.

“I’m not…” you muttered as you stepped away from him, tugging at his shirt to let him know you wanted it off.

He complied quickly, tossing his shirt aside as his intense gaze demanded you do the same; so you did. It wasn’t long before the rest of your clothes were discarded, the two of you finally stepping into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over the two of you, he connected your lips once again, his bold hands carelessly exploring every inch of your bare body. The captivating sensation sent chills down your spine, the need to feel him between your legs skyrocketing in only a matter of seconds. It amazed you how easily he could read your mind, his fingers quickly finding your dripping core and teasing it.

“Wet already?” he smirked as he continued toying with your folds.

“I-it’s because of the shower,” you joked in attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow, his fixed gaze unfaltering as he slowly slipped a finger past your entrance, “What about this, hm?”

“... Okay, you win,” you whined, the way his slender finger curled inside of you turning your legs into jelly. Pushing you up against the cold tile wall, he held your hip with one hand to support your weakening body while his other continued to play with you.

“Does it feel good, baby girl?” he mumbled into your neck as he snuck another finger past your lower lips.

“Mhm…” you barely managed to get out whilst struggling to hold back your moans.

Before you had time to even process what was happening, Doyoung dropped down in front of you, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder as he took your swollen clit between his lips. Once you felt his tongue flicking against the sensitive area, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Your fingers found their way into his hair instinctively, fisting at the drenched, tangled mess of strands as he continued to push you past your limit. You could feel your body starting to shake as your climax approached, the moans you were trying so hard to hold in effortlessly slipping out in just a matter of seconds. Barely another moment passed when you finally lost it, throwing your head back as his name fell from your lips, an intense feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.

Once you finally came down from your high, Doyoung stood back up to meet your lips, desperately caressing them with his own, his arms finding their way around your waist and pulling you into him. The feeling of his erection pressing against you made you moan, his tongue taking the opportunity to quickly slide past your lips and into your mouth. He swirled it around for a bit before he separated you lips and began to trail kisses from you jaw down the length of your neck, stopping at the base to suck on the thin, delicate skin.

“Doyoung,” you moaned, your hand sliding down to stroke him, “Please?”

“Please what?” he groaned, pulling away so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded.

“I’d love to.”

Wrapping one of your legs around his waist, he guided his member to your entrance, briefly teasing your folds with the tip before slowly easily himself in. You moaned at the pleasantly familiar feeling, his firm length filling you up to the brim, the perfect amount to drive you toward the ecstasy you so desperately seeked. He started with slow, sensual movements, his hips brushing up against yours with every stroke, your arms mindlessly finding their way around his neck.

“Harder,” you groaned breathily, knowing that he was only exerting a small fraction of what he potentially could.

“Already?” he teased, his lips curving into a smirk, “We only just started.”

“Yes, I want it,” you whined.

“Alright, if you insist.”

In just the blink of an eye, he had your wrists pinned and was bucking his hips into you like a wild animal, every snap of his hips hitting the deepest depth in your core. You could barely even breathe as his powerful thrusts continuously pounded you into the wall.

“How’s this?” he grunted, his intense pace not even slowing down for a second.

“So good… don’t stop,” you moaned breathily.

You already felt so close, like you could burst at any second, but you didn’t want it to end; it felt too good. As hard as you tried to contain yourself, it only worked for a short amount of time before you couldn’t take it anymore, the tangled mess of nerves in your core steadily unravelling to its end. In an instant you were hit with the white hot feeling of pure bliss rushing through your body, a much more intense version of what you’d felt earlier. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, your moans vibrated against his wet skin, your legs unintentionally squeezing his waist as your orgasm finished running its course. He came shortly after you, the feeling of your walls clenching around his girth bringing him to his end, spilling his hot seed into your confines. Weakly, he pulled out, the two of you taking a moment to regain yourselves and catch your breath.

“That was… amazing…” you sighed, the water still running as the two of you stood there, residing in the activities that had just taken place.

“Yes, yes it was,” Doyoung replied in a raspy, exhausted voice, “We should actually shower now though, so that we can hang out after.”

“Okay,” you agreed, forcing yourself to finally move and wash yourself.

The two of you finished up quickly and threw on some comfortable clothes before making your way to the kitchen to cook up something for dinner. Unfortunately, your kitchen didn’t have the biggest variety of groceries to cook up a nice meal, so the two of you just settled for ramen, typical.

As the two of you ate, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach started to reappear, the realization that you should confess soon suddenly hitting you when you got a glimpse of the time. Doyoung would probably be leaving in an hour or so and you definitely didn’t want to miss your chance to tell him.

“Uh, hey, Doyoung?” you started, swallowing thickly as you mentally prepared yourself for what you would say next.

“Yeah?” he replied, turning his full attention to you.

“Um… there’s something I want to tell you… So, as you know, we’ve been friends with benefits for a while and well, it’s been great… but-”

“You want to end it?” he interrupted bluntly.

“No! No… I uh… well sort of… but it's because… I like you.”

For a moment the room was silent, the look on Doyoung’s face showing that he was obviously surprised.

“Oh… I see…” was all he said when he finally spoke up.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stared at him with pleading eyes, hoping he was going to say what you wanted to hear… but he didn’t.

“So?...” you asked, desperately trying to get something out of him.

“Um…” he started, taking a breath before continuing, “I’ve actually been talking to someone and well… I’m interested in her so I was actually planning to break this off sometime soon… I didn’t know you felt that way about me, I’m sorry.”

Your heart dropped at his words, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes burned, welling with tears. You’d like to think you were prepared for this to happen, knowing that this was one of the possible outcomes of your confession, but being prepared in your head is nothing compared to being prepared in real life. As hard as you tried to stop the tears from falling, you couldn’t, the ache in your heart too unbearable to conceal. You didn’t even know what to say at that point, you were really hoping that it wasn’t going to come down to this.

“Please don’t cry,” Doyoung pleaded, scooting closer to you and trying his best to comfort you, “You’re an amazing person, it’s not like I don’t like you…”

“But you don’t feel the same,” you barely managed to say, turning away from him so he couldn’t see your face, “I think you should leave… I can’t do this.”

Standing up from the couch, you walked straight to your room and shut the door, collapsing onto your bed as soon as soon as you could and for the next hour or so you just cried until you finally fell sleep.

The next morning, you could barely open your eyes, your lids swollen from having cried so much last night. After washing your face, you went downstairs to grab your phone, remembering you’d left it out since you went straight to your room after your incident with Doyoung. Picking it up, you checked the time and discovered that he had sent you a text message; as much as your head told you you didn’t want to read it, your heart still wanted to know what he had to say… so you opened it.

Doyoung [1:27 AM]: Hey, Y/n… I’m really sorry about what happened last night… I really feel bad for not knowing that you liked me and that I should’ve been paying better attention or something… I hope you can forgive me. You’re a really great person and despite our differences I hope you wouldn’t mind being friends still, but if not I completely understand… Once again I’m sorry, I know that friendship isn’t what you wanted from me, but for now it’s all I can give, I hope you understand. Honestly, if things don’t work out with this girl, I’d love to give us a chance if you’re okay with it. You have my number so please don’t be afraid to text or call me and let me know what you think… If possible I’d really like to stay in touch with you. Take your time though, and don’t force yourself to talk to me until you’re ready, I hate to see you upset. Hope you feel better soon!

You could feel your eyes starting to burn again as you read his message, an overwhelming amount of emotions crashing over you at once. It was hard for you to feel happy, but it was also hard for you to feel sad, seeing that he still cared a lot for you and said he would give you a chance if he could… there was a lot to think about for sure, but you were thankful that at least you didn’t end up with the worst case scenario. As tears continued to stream down your face, you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t be too upset about the outcome, considering you did break the number one rule of having a friends with benefits, but you were eternally thankful that Doyoung saved you from complete misery and having to learn your lesson the hard way.

#no #im not planning to write a pt 2 #this one is just #sad #angsty #i know someone gonna ask so #yeah #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct doyoung #doyoung smut #nct doyoung smut #nct smut #doyoung scenario #nct scenario

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