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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

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For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4??

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

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chapter 17

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.73K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: bro DAYUM...that's it, that's all i have to say

“Kim Taehyung, you have 5 minutes to escort yourself to the vehicle.”

Why do things like this always seem to happen to you?

A man of nearly 6 foot towers over the both of you, burly and very upset.

He wears a suit, one that reminds you of the kind that FBI agents wear. His is one of a large frame, but not necessarily overweight. He has a face that might have been handsome when he was younger, but you can tell by his receding hairline and tired eyes that he’s at least in his middle ages. Perhaps 40-50 years in age.

Dark, small eyes, and a deeply tanned face which naturally sets into a scowl, do nothing to help his already aging features. It makes him seem truly terrifying as if he were an angry parent finally tracking down his rebellious teenager. His eyes are small, almost too small for his face sparkling with malicious anger.

Though he is still handsome, and there isn't necessarily anything wrong with him, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy. He exuberates intimidation and power, a very menacing essence that makes you shift away from him, shrinking into yourself.

You look from him to Taehyung, hardly noticing the way you have nervously grabbed onto his arm. Taehyung meets the man's gaze with a steady one of his own, unfazed by the anger which seems to pulsate off him in waves. He raises his eyebrow a bit, a smug look coating his face as he regards the man with narrowed eyes.

“W-who are you?” You ask, a bit timidly, regarding the new arrival cautiously. As his eyes shift from Taehyung to you, he grows livid, especially when he catches sight of your linked hands.

You notice his pointed look and start a bit, letting go of Taehyung’s arm; trying to pull your hand out of his grasp, but Tae doesn't let you. Instead, he holds tight, a sign of defiance.

You give him a look, and he gives you a sideways glance, one that makes you stop struggling. You roll your eyes in return, raising them to the man. He practically growls at you before you quickly glance away, staring at the ground instead.

“Leave her alone, Minhyuk,” Taehyung says, a bit wearily, and pulling you closer to him. You can feel your cheeks heat up, against your will, and avoid the man’s watchful stare. You bite your lip nervously, choosing to focus on Taehyung holding your hand instead. The man scowls your way, and in mere protective instinct, Tae pulls you closer to his side, his eyes darkening.

All he knows is he doesn't want to let you go.

Not yet anyway.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Taehyung explains, and your heart drops to the bottom of your gut in alarm. He gives you a disinterested look, raising his eyebrow sardonically. He doesn't deny the position and he certainly exuberates the kind of scary atmosphere most bodyguards have.

“The bodyguard whom you leave in the dust half the time.” Minhyuk snaps, crossing his arms. Taehyung only rolls his eyes, sighing as though he’s heard this before.

You can't help but feel as though you're stuck in the middle of a fight and want so badly to escape and wait it out...if only Taehyung would let go of your hand. You don't know why he wants to continue to hold it, and the only reason you can think of is that he wants to bother his bodyguard as much as possible.

In reality, your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

“We have an agreement,” Taehyung says, almost exhaustingly, putting the attitude on thick. You yank on his arm as if that will shock some respect into his stubborn body, but he just gives you a small sideways glance. “You let me have a bit of my freedom when I’m outside alone and I give your daughter all the BTS perks she could want.”

You give Tae a surprised look, but if he notices, he doesn't show it, choosing instead to focus on his bodyguard.

You didn't know that was even allowed, and to be honest, it might not be, especially if BangPD doesn't know about it.

And from the looks of things…

...BangPD has no idea.

“Thank God for Mia because without her I would have never agreed to such a ridiculous deal!” Minhyuk sighs in exasperation, one much like the ones that you've heard your mother give whenever you are being difficult.

Taehyung gives a slight scoff, rolling his eyes and turning to you.

You wonder what he thinks he’s going to gain by looking at your face.

A reprieve?

Nevertheless, he turns to you and carefully plucks your satchel off of your shoulders. You grasp for it, not willing to let it leave your side, but Tae gives you a look that tells you to trust him. You sigh, reluctantly letting him pull it off of your shoulders before he turns to Minhyuk once more.

“You know I could lose my job because of you, have you ever thought of that?” Minhyuk is shouting, continuing his rant.

“Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Would you hold this?” Taehyung asks, handing it to Minhyuk who takes it rather begrudgingly. You don't exactly like the careless way Minhyuk holds it, dangling from his massive hands at his side, but you keep your mouth shut, biting back an angry retort. Now is not the time to get an angry gorilla man on your bad side.

You don't mean for him to notice your look, but he does and glances at the satchel then back at you, a bit dumbfounded. You quickly look away at the glance, missing the apologetic look that passes over his face. He sighs, silently softening his grip on the satchel and carefully placing it on his shoulder.

“Could you at least text me whenever you want to leave? It would have been that simple. Then I wouldn't have Mr. Bang breathing down my neck because you didn't attend rehearsal on time.” He says, tiredly rubbing his temple as Taehyung turns to you once more, taking both of your hands in his own. You give Taehyung a silent scolding look and he sighs, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I guess it slipped my mind.” He says half to you, and you let out a disappointed sigh. How could things like this just slip his mind? “You see, I was a bit occupied.”

Taehyung kneels and takes your ankle in his hands, presenting it to the bodyguard. You almost fall with the sudden action and have to rest your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He smirks up at you, whispering.

“This is what you get.”

You look at him in befuddlement, so confused as to what the purpose of that was.

That is until you hear Minhyuk gasp from in front of the two of you.

“My God, is she okay?!”

Eyes widening, you give Taehyung a look as he lets go of you and rises, taking your hands off of his shoulder and into his palms. He runs his thumb over the top of your palm quite distractingly, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse flutter.

“That is low.” You hiss to him, and his smirk grows wider as he looks at you, trying his hardest to keep his self-satisfaction in. You think of pulling your hands away, just to spite him, but you’ve tried that before. So instead, you decide to stab him on the inside of his palm with your nail, which he jumps at.

Now it's your turn to smirk, and you look at his stupefied expression, quite pleased with yourself. He presses his tongue against his cheek, his mouth slightly open as though the stakes have just been upped in a poker match and he was being tested to how far he was willing to take the bet. Looking toward Minhyuk quite audaciously, he nods his head in response to his question.

“She will be….” He starts, his voice coated with thick mock emotion before he slowly draws his eyes to you. “....once we get her home.”

You narrow your eyes at him, absolutely refusing his suggestion.

He is not going to drive you home like some little damsel in distress, not when you can take perfectly good care of yourself. Besides, he has to get back to work. You could wait for the rain out and then wait for the bus to come back to take you home, it's not that big of a deal. You pray that Minhyuk doesn't fall for the bait and takes the realistic viewpoint, but…..

“You're right. We could drop her off on the way to BigHit. After all, you're already late, what're a few more minutes? Help her to the car, Taehyung, I’ll take her stuff.” Minhyuk says, turning to go.

Eyes widening with alarm, your mouth opens with protest as you turn to object, but he’s already gone, Taehyung smiling smugly as he walks away. Growling almost, you turn to him, shoving him in his shoulder. He laughs as you do, as though it didn't hurt it all. You weren't exactly trying to hurt him, but you find him laughing at you equally as annoying as his little asinine expression on his face.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“You shouldn't be driving me home, you should be going back to work!” You scold, poking him in the chest, still shocked by his little charade. “You know I’ll be fine. All I would have to do is wait for the bus to come back. Why are you avoiding your responsibilities just to help me when you don't have to?”

As you speak, his face falls into an unreadable expression.

A serene look, one with wide eyes and surprise mixed with something else. All the smugness and playful attitude are gone. It's a look that unsettles you, and you swallow hard. You almost want to push him further, say something that has him finally look at things seriously, but you don't.

You don't know that this whole time, he has been taking everything seriously.

He didn't want to leave you alone, not when you were hurt, not even when you were by yourself, just minding your own business. This whole situation is serious to him, even if he found it hilarious to tease you and bother you all day, he was just trying to find reasons to spend time with you.

Just trying to find ways to stay by your side.

He steps closer to you and you swallow hard, regarding him with cautious eyes.

What is he going to do?

You plead with him to say something, erase that expression from his eyes, give you some sort of implication. The hazelnut color isn't as vibrant anymore, it's a shade darker, turning his eyes into a color that reminds you of cocoa or warm milk tea. It’s a color that accents those copper flecks making it seem as though the sun was dancing within.

You stare into them with wide eyes of your own, your breath shortening and your heart beating at a million miles per minute.

“You want me to leave you alone?” he whispers, softly, his voice deep and thick. You don't answer him, glancing away for a bit.

In that mere moment of distraction, he takes the opportunity.

He leans close to you, pressing his lips right next to your ear, the warm feeling of his breath on your neck causing shivers to run down your spine. A sensation you haven't felt in a while, and catches you off guard, near stopping your heart. You go still, as though he would disappear if you made the slightest movement.

You don't want him to disappear.

“What if I can't do it?” he inquires, the sound of his voice reverberating in your eardrums causing you to take a shaky breath. Your eyes grow wide as he pulls away.

He tilts his head at your reaction, his smile growing. It's a sweet, affectionate smile, one not many people have given you. He reaches out to you in response, his hand brushing your cheek softly before tucking your hair behind your ear. The touch sends shivers down your spine and you can't move.

You're at war with yourself.

You want to give in to his touch, close your eyes and bask in the soft, gentle touch that is his and only his.

But you don't give in, you can't give in.

You have to ignore the way it makes you feel and resist falling into some delusion that he could care about you. You can't handle that heartbreak...

Not again.

His eyes hazy as he looks at you and a slight smile playing on his lips, he licks them before swallowing hard and trailing his hand past the skin behind your ear and down the side of your neck. You don't mean to, but you let out a sharp inhale of breath at the touch and close your eyes for a moment before raising them to his.

He blinks a bit in astonishment at the way you look at him, faltering a bit before, gingerly securing his hand behind your neck. Each finger tapping down on your skin as they secure their hold, a gentle touch that pulls you closer. He smiles at you for a moment, as the hand mixes into the wet tangles of your hair.

“See? Even now it's hard to stay apart for long.” He murmurs, and you narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the smile that begins to grow by pursing your lips together.

His hand trails slowly down, before resting on the small of your back and pulling you even closer. Instinctively, you keep a hand out, as though to distance yourself as it presses against his chest.

He smiles, his eyes sparkling once more with mischief before reaching down and hooking his arm around your knees; buckling them over his arm as he lifts you once more.

You cry out as he does, the hand on his chest quickly securing its hold behind his neck. You are not going to take any chances this time. He smiles at you once you are settled and you give him a look.

“This again?” you ask, raising your eyebrow a bit. He nods, mutely taking off his hat and securing it on your head, purposefully making sure it goes halfway down your face. Narrowing your eyes you adjust it, making sure it fits right on your head. Feigning annoyance, you poke him in retaliation, right in his cheek. He holds his hand to his face in mock shock before your pout turns into a smile and you laugh, resting your hands around his neck once more.

“Onward, my young stallion.” You say, your voice taking on a bit of a British accent, and he plays along a bit of a twinkle in his eye before he begins to walk forward.

You can feel it as it begins to pound down once more on the two of you and the soft pelting sound as it dapples on Taehyung’s hat. But all you can think about is the rush of adrenaline that arises once he takes off running. As though the rain were some sort of poison from the sky. The roar of the storm and the deafening sound of thunder mixes with the roar in your ears and the sound of resounding laughter as you cling desperately to Taehyung.

He smiles, underneath your touch, the same feelings and emotions coursing through his veins as his feet slap on the concrete ground, splashing up puddles of rainwater along with him. His feet stomp quickly to a stop as he nears the car and he opens the door, setting you down securely inside. Though the movement is quick, he is so gentle and careful to make sure he doesn't damage your injury before you are secure.

As he sets you down, you almost reluctantly pull your hands from him but only to remove the hat he gave you and hand it back to him. He takes it from you slowly, before placing it back on his hair. You smile up at him, before flicking the brim of the hat.

“See you on the other side.”

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: okay you know that moment when you reread something and you forget for a moment that you wrote that? yeeah that's me. right now. at this moment.

chapter 18 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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carmenlire · 3 years ago

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Plum

read on ao3

He thinks he scared himself. Just a little. Just enough for it to have an impact.

Maybe. The jury’s still out on that, he supposes.

Falling asleep last night had taken longer than he’d thought. He thinks they’d been hunger pains and he knows it��s ridiculous but a part of him still hadn’t understood.

At that point, he hadn’t eaten in forty eight hours, give or take a few minutes. He’d gotten home from work and he’d been exhausted. He’s always tired these days and even if it had been a couple of days since his last meal, the last time he’d chewed and swallowed, he’d been fine.

Until he’d gone to bed at least. It wasn’t even a struggle to collapse in bed after work. He’s a little tired of his job, of the way he feels like his superiors are always breathing down his neck, at the way the people he’s trying to help just seem to get a little meaner and a little ruder with every passing day.

He’s a little tired in general but that can’t really be helped, either. He’s usually tired. He hasn’t worked out in longer than he cares to admit-- he’s been brushing Jace off every time his brother tries to get him to go on an early morning run or join a boxing class at their gym. There are some absolutes that Alec follows and one of them is that to work out in the morning, he needs to have eaten the day before.

Perhaps it should be a warning that he hasn’t been working out lately-- the past few weeks, really the past several months-- because he just can’t make himself eat with any consistency. He usually eats once a day but it never feels quite right. So he wakes up the next morning and tells himself tomorrow as he hits snooze on his alarm for another hour of sleep that doesn’t leave him any more well rested than before.

Yesterday, all he’d been able to think about during his shift was coming home and taking off his damn tie. Dinner was a far off thing, easily avoided. He’d just wanted to slide between his sheets where nothing matters and where he doesn’t have to be a person.

Where he’s not Alec Lightwood, aiming to make senior associate within the year. He’s just a guy who’s a little sad and maybe a little hungry and so, so empty that he feels like his insides are cracking most minutes of most days.

Well, that’s not entirely true, Alec thinks and it’s not even with a wry little smile because even so small an action feels beyond him right now. He hadn’t just felt exhausted during his late evening shift-- there was a noticeable part of him that had been a little smug, a lot relieved, not inconsiderably proud. Because at that point, it’d been almost two entire days since he’d last eaten and he was happy about that-- felt the stirring of pride at his wherewithal to not give in to what his body demanded, felt good because he felt light.

Usually he feels like he carries the weight of an army behind him and so that feeling-- of being a little smaller, a little less in the way that matters, in the way he wishes for-- it’s.

Well, it’s intoxicating. A little addicting, if he’s being honest.

It’s been a rough year, Alec thinks now. So much is going on and he hasn’t felt this way in years, the way the fog rolls in, the way he sometimes thinks he doesn’t have a body. Still, some of it’s been good. There’s that weekend last month that he spent with Izzy and Jace, the three of them on the camping trip from hell. He hadn’t laughed so hard in ages as he had watching Jace try to put together a tent, as he did watching Iz take her turn during a particularly drunken round of charades.

Then there’s Magnus. Things are so good with him. Too good, a voice whispers in the back of his mind but he tries so hard to knock it back to where it came from, to make it disappear. He has a boyfriend now and just seeing Magnus makes him happy. Or if not happy, then content. Alec can be himself with Magnus and it means more than he can say to have a boyfriend and find such easy comfort within him. He takes great pride in being that person for Magnus, as well.

There’s guilt too, though. Because the longer Alec’s like this, the more he thinks that he might have an actual problem. And it terrifies him because he doesn’t see a way out. He doesn’t think there is one.

Because here Alec sits and he’s staring at nothing in a bookstore a few blocks from his apartment and he wants to die, just a little bit. Because that would be easier for anyone involved in his shit take at taking care of himself.

He feels Magnus staring at him from where he sits within arms reach in his own chair. He feels his boyfriend rubbing a hand over his back in soothing circles but it does nothing to stop Alec from feeling like he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be anywhere.

This morning, Alec ate a plum.

This morning was day three of Alec’s little challenge to himself. He had idle plans to make it a full seventy two hours without eating. Don’t get him wrong, he’s had a few iced coffees every day and it worries him, a little maybe, because he was starting to fixate on how the coffees felt like cheating, too.

There’s oat milk in the lattes, you know.

But he’d had this date day planned with Magnus for days now. His boyfriend, his wonderful boyfriend, has planned a whole day of things for Alec, for them to enjoy together. Alec was excited for today and he’d been feeling good when he woke up.

A day off from work, a day spent with a man who he’s increasingly sure that he loves. It sounded like a recipe for a lovely day.

Plus, he’d woken feeling lighter. In the past two days, he’d lost seven pounds. He knows most, if not all of it, is water weight. But seeing the number drop so severely on the scale felt so good. It gave him confidence. It made him happy.

It filled him in a way that a meal hasn’t been able to in months.

It sounds so dire now but Alec’s never been underweight. From the outside, he looks exceedingly healthy. It does nothing but make him feel worse a lot of the time.

So, Alec knew that the plan for the day was a bookstore in the morning, followed by lunch at this place Magnus had been dying to try for weeks now, with the afternoon spent wandering the halls of an art museum further uptown.

Alec’s not stupid and he never wants Magnus to worry. So, he’d decided to break his fast and eat some fruit. That way he’d have energy for the day and when Magnus asked him what he’d had for breakfast-- his boyfriend is definitely in the camp that believes it’s the most important meal of the day-- Alec wouldn’t have to lie. It's a bonus that fruit falls squarely into a safe category of food in his brain.

Alone in his kitchen, it’d been equal parts shameful and irritating that taking that first bite of stone fruit had taken several attempts. He washed the fruit and patted it dry with a paper towel and stared at it for a long minute, most of him loathing the thought of biting into it. He felt like a failure not being able to last another minute, another hour.

But Magnus would be here within the hour and he needed to get ready.

Four tries later, and his teeth pierced the plum. Immediately, he’d thought that this had to be the best plum that he’d ever eaten. Perfectly ripe, juicy, the flavor positively bursting from the flesh.

Idly, he’d thought that maybe he’d make these lengthy fasts a more regular thing, if he could truly appreciate food like this at the end.

The plum was small and he’d finished it in a handful of bites. Almost immediately after throwing away the seed, he’d started to feel a tiny bit of shame and a whole lot of regret for eating.

He was so weak that he couldn’t wait until he had a true reason to eat-- lunch at the Korean restaurant Magnus had been raving about. If he’d waited until then, then maybe he wouldn’t have made the full three days but Magnus is worth eating for. It would have been okay, then.

Nothing for it now, he’d finally decided and had been ready when his boyfriend picked him up.

The bookstore was a little busy. Not crowded, but a fair few more people than he’d anticipated. Truthfully, though, Alec hadn’t really noticed because he’d been enjoying his time with Magnus so much.

Magnus, who has such an array of knowledge. He’s interested in so many subjects and strolling through the shelves of books and floating between genres, idly picking up paperbacks with interesting covers and hardbacks by beloved authors he wants to share with Magnus had been fun. He hadn’t noticed the time that slipped by.

They’re climbing the stairs to the second floor of the store and Alec feels a little winded. More than he’d usually ever feel walking up a single flight. His head feels a little weird, too. Light but not in a good way.

It doesn’t make sense. He ate a plum this morning.

Magnus looks over with a smile. “What do you say to a coffee while we look up here? My treat,” he adds with a wink that has Alec laughing.

Alec easily accepts and they get in the short line.

“What’d you have for breakfast, darling?”

It’s an idle question as Magnus looks over the selection of bakery treats on display. Alec looks, too, and thinks that if it was another time, if he was a different person, he might like to try a piece of the oreo cheesecake.

“A plum,” he answers simply as he turns his head to people watch the few occupied tables.

“And?”

Alec shakes his head, bemused. “And that’s it,” he replies. “I ate a plum for breakfast.”

It’s now that Magnus looks over, askance. "I told you to eat something that would give you energy until lunch, darling. A plum is nothing,” he chastises and the tone is light and teasing. “You should eat more.”

Alec keeps the easy smile on his face, though he can’t help a small part of himself from growing a little worried, a little guilty-- but there’s a kernel of anger there too that he can’t really define.

He shouldn’t be upset over his boyfriend’s light teasing. It’s not that deep. Magnus doesn’t know the sharks circling just under the edge of this conversation and Alec’s grateful for that, even more now.

“I guess you’re just the breakfast person, babe. You know I don’t really like to eat before noon.”

Magnus just harrumphs and turns toward the cashier. They’re next in line.

But Alec doesn’t feel so well. His head feels even lighter. He thinks his vision starts to waver but he thinks he’s also being dramatic. He has a tendency to do that, he knows. Sometimes he even thinks he might have some type of-- some type of disorder but he’s usually quick to tell himself that everyone feels this way about food and eating and weight and calories and he shouldn’t add more to his plate of stress.

Magnus takes the final step up to the barista but Alec stands stock still. The edges of his vision are gray and that’s weird because he thought that only happened in books. He thought it was just a clever description but oh God the tables by the window are in grayscale and now he can’t really see them at all and the volume of the bustling cafe area is muted, did everyone stop talking and--

He doesn’t think he’s breathing. He can’t feel his chest. He can’t feel his legs. He needs to sit down.

He thinks Magnus is turning back to ask him what he wants to drink but he can’t answer. His sight is set on an unoccupied table a few meters away and it’s with single minded focus that he puts one foot in front of the other and very roughly sits down as soon as he’s within reach.

More like collapses, Magnus would say.

He stares down at the ground. He counts his breaths. Everything is still quiet and Alec’s still preoccupied enough making sure that he stays conscious that he can’t immediately rationalize everything away to himself. Magnus comes over and brings the other chair around the table until they’re side by side.

“Alexander? You okay?”

Alec can’t answer. He just needs a moment. He hopes Magnus doesn’t get mad that he can’t bring his head up, that he just can’t quite manage to string together a response right now.

Magnus doesn’t seem mad, at least. He isn’t irritated. He also isn’t hovering, thank God, because Alec doesn’t think he could take that right now. His presence is quiet and calms Alec down a little and maybe it’s mixed with relief, too, that there’s someone with him right now-- that it’s Magnus who he knows he can trust.

It’s quiet for a few moments before Alec looks up and makes eye contact with Magnus. His boyfriend smiles a little but his eyes are deadly serious. “What can I do?”

Alec takes a deep breath in and slowly lets it out. He looks down and watches his hands flex, feels his fingers curl. “Can I have a lemonade?”

Normally, Alec doesn’t drink anything with sugar in it. He has a sweet tooth but prefers to stick strictly to water and his iced lattes. He knows he needs something more now.

Magnus merely nods and stands without another word. He’s back a moment later and hands over a bottle of lemonade he’d bought from the cooler. “Here you go, darling,” he says softly.

Alec drinks and Magnus goes back to sweeping a hand over his back in an aimless pattern. “It was rather warm in here, wasn’t it?”

Alec makes some noise of agreement and Magnus adds on quietly, much more subdued, “Maybe you should’ve eaten something more for breakfast.”

There’s that little flick of annoyance that Alec can’t quite squash down but he’s not stupid. And Magnus doesn’t even know the half of it. And so Alec nods a little more weakly than he’d like and says, “Yeah, maybe, babe,” unable to control the tendril of indifference in the words.

Magnus is quiet for a minute and Alec works on the lemonade and thinks through what just happened.

He’s never fainted before. He’s never come so close to blacking out. He thought he was stronger than that and he’s a little mad at his body for showing that it can have a mind of its own, too. It happened so fast that it leaves him with whiplash.

Over it all, though, is confusion because he did eat. He thought the fruit would be enough to last until lunch and it doesn’t make sense to him that he ate an hour ago and almost passed out just now.

Magnus’s voice breaks through the self recrimination. “Why don’t we take a little break, get a treat, and find a table by the windows,” he suggests. Alec knows him well enough by now to know that while it was phrased as a question, it’s anything but.

Seeing as he doesn’t really have a choice, Alec nods and they stand and make their way back over to the counter. Alec takes a look around but no one's staring at them. Everyone’s focused on their own computers and books and Alec doesn’t feel like a bug under a microscope in the way that he thought he might. He doesn’t really want any more witnesses to this.

Magnus orders a cranberry almond croissant and turns to him. Alec decides on a slice of that cheesecake, after all.

They sit down and Alec stares at the dessert. The truth is, he enjoys food. More than he should, he thinks. He likes trying new things and he has a sweet tooth and he enjoys a truly good, filling meal. The problem is that it’s been so long since it’s been worth it. He has a lot of food rules and this cheesecake breaks at least three that he can think of off the bat. It’s a little terrifying actually and he’s mad at himself that a piece of cake can make him feel genuine fear.

When did it get to this point, is all he can wonder. How do I go back.

Magnus doesn’t make him feel like a child. He doesn’t make a scene of things, doesn’t make Alec feel like he embarrassed him. In his quiet, competent way, Magnus simply takes care of him.

The day isn’t ruined, which Alec feared as he took the first bite of food. They spend awhile at that table and they both eat their treats and enjoy their coffee and talk about anything and everything that pops into their minds. Magnus doesn’t rush them from the table, seems content enough to enjoy Alec’s company at a table in the bookstore cafe rather than walking around the store like originally planned.

Eventually, they do throw their trash away and Magnus takes Alec’s hand as they start wandering the second floor. Magnus doesn’t mention what happened for the rest of the day but it lingers in the back of Alec’s mind.

The day ends up being a smash success of a date. Alec buys a few books for Magnus. They enjoy the Korean restaurant-- Magnus was right, it’s phenomenal-- and the art museum is eye catching.

It’s later that night and Magnus is spending the night at Alec’s. They’re in bed and Magnus is fast asleep.

Sleep eludes Alec for awhile, though. He can’t stop thinking about this morning at the bookstore cafe. He thinks that things might be escalating. He thinks that he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened.

He can’t help but think that maybe that episode was a sign that he was doing things right, after all.

He’s so tired and he doesn’t have any answers. He feels rather helpless, really. Maybe he knows that this isn’t normal but he can’t help the way he feels. He doesn’t know who he can tell these things to-- things like how he feels an almost compulsion to weigh himself every day even if he knows the results will devastate him, the way he has a very narrow list of safe foods and feels totally removed from what normal people eat, the way he sometimes asks himself what he’d like for his next meal but the voice in his head immediately retorts but you don’t deserve to eat.

Alec’s an adult. He knows what the signs point to. But he can’t quite make himself believe that he has a problem because it seems only logical that he hold these misgivings, given his body. It’s just the way things are for him. It feels increasingly like it's always been this way.

But maybe today scared him a little. Maybe, Alec thinks as he looks down at his boyfriend sleeping peacefully on his chest, maybe he does have someone he can talk to.

And maybe Magnus will tell him he has nothing to worry about, that these overwhelming thoughts and feelings are normal. Or, Alec thinks with a sliver of dread but an even greater sense of hope, Magnus will look him in the eye and take his hand and say that it’s okay to have a problem and that they can find a solution.

Together.

#plum #my writing #malec fic #tw: eating problems

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kpop-zone · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Longer pt.3 | Jennie

Warnings: indicated smut, mentioning of blood, a few curse words, alcohol abuse

Wordcount: 4,765

A/N: Sorry guys for the mini hiatus, I just got really caught up writing this and forgot writing anything else. This story is still not finished, but I really wanted to post something, so here’s Part 3 for now. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Part 1 Part 2

Jennie giggled silently as she stumbled through the hallway to the living room.

“This one looks like a butt.”

She laughed when she looked at one of Jiyong’s paintings. Fascinated, she paused in front of it while taking a few more sips from a bottle that she had stolen from the kitchen. Loud chatter from the living room, however, reminded her again what she was doing here in the first place.

“Oh right, I can’t let the nobs wait.”

Shakily, Jennie continued her way until she reached the entrance of the living room. The guests inside were all engaged in a lively conversation and their happy faces were disgusting her. They were all so pretentious and selfish. After another hefty sip from the bottle, Jennie put it down in the hallway and stumbled into the room. Not everyone noticed her right away but after she accidentally ran into a cabinet in the process of trying to walk straight, all heads turned the same time. Jennie tried her best to play it off, but when she noticed your gaze resting on her, her knees felt even weaker than before. The way to her seat suddenly seemed to be seven miles long; especially because the whole room was spinning. But eventually, she plopped down on her chair, feeling the eyes of the other guests burning holes into her.

“Excuse my interruption, I haven’t eaten anything today and was feeling a little dizzy.”

Jennie uttered tediously, feeling like her tongue was heavy like lead. Sheepishly, she let her gaze wander around the faces in the room. Some were still staring at her skeptically, but soon all of them flashed her a reprieving smile before returning to their conversation.

“Back to what I was saying. I think that actress must be an arrogant diva. Denying a fan an autograph? As if she didn’t owe her whole career to her fans...”

The same man that had made the inappropriate comment about your plus one (Jennie refused to call her your girlfriend) scoffed, and Jennie couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. Usually she was already used to dimwitted remarks like that, but the alcohol had unfortunately lowered her level of tolerance.

“Yeah right, because she belongs to the public, doesn’t she?”

Jennie snarled, feeling her bottled-up emotions threatening to burst. The guy looked like a ghost had just appeared in front of him, apparently not being used to someone talking back.

“No, that’s not what I meant. But celebrities hold a certain responsibility that they can’t just discard.”

He responded self-opinionated, causing Jennie to laugh bitterly. She was tired of people making her feel like they were omniscient and had complete power over her.

“Responsibility? Responsibility for what? To make a wimp like you feel powerful?”

After Jennie’s statement the whole room fell quiet. Her words had been harsh, but they were true, so she didn’t even think about apologizing. With a triumphant smirk she looked into the dumbfounded face of the guy, watching how he struggled with his words.

“Jennie, you must be drunk. We don’t know you like that.”

Hyerim, another one of her so called “friends”, broke the silence in order to safe him from further embarrassment.

But Jennie had had enough of this.

Everyone at this table could go to hell as far as she cared. They were stuck in their own little worlds, too occupied with themselves to try to emphasize with someone else. And she couldn’t stand being in such a toxic environment right now. Therefore, Jennie pushed her chair back with force, causing it to loudly fall over before storming out of the room without any further explanation.

“Such an asshole!!”

She yelled in the hallway after slamming the front door shut before weaving to the elevator.

This whole dinner had been a dead loss and Jennie regretted having talked Jiyong into hosting it. Angrily, she kicked against the elevator door because she had to wait way too long to finally be able to leave this godforsaken place. But even after she had left the building, Jennie couldn’t calm down. The alcohol had failed its purpose to make her numb and had stirred up all her emotions instead. It felt like her whole system was overheating. Her brain was working at full capacity, her heart was slamming against her ribcage and all of her senses were desperately trying to fight against the influence of the alcohol.

Therefore, Jennie had to take several breaks on the way to her car as her stomach needed to get rid of the toxic liquid that was clogging her system. With shaking hands, she eventually reached the car and rummaged around in her handbag until she pulled out her car key to unlock her car. It almost slipped out of her hand, but after fidgeting a while, Jennie finally managed to press the right button. Just when she was about to open the door though, she suddenly got yanked around.

“You’re not driving like that.”

Out of nowhere, you were suddenly standing in front of her, your voice being able to freeze the ocean and your face absolutely unreadable.

“Let go off me!”

With a harsh movement, Jennie ripped herself free from your grasp and huffed in annoyance.

“Give me the key.”

You said calmly while holding out your hand, but Jennie wasn’t even thinking about giving it to you.

“No.”

Childishly, she wrapped her fingers even tighter around it and hid it behind her back.

“Could you please stop behaving like a five-year old?”

Your patience seemed to run out and you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Could you please stop meddling in things that are none of your business? Just go back to your perfect girlfriend.”

Jennie bickered back, apparently striking a nerve according to the sour expression on your face.

“Leave her out of this.”

You snarled, but Jennie’s torn open wounds and the alcohol in her system prevented her from knowing her limits.

“Why? Is she even too good for me to take her name into my mouth? I mean, I understand. She’s really beautiful and her clothes weren’t cheap either, so she has to be wealthy. Must really be a little Miss Perfect.”

She could see that you were gritting your teeth in anger, but you kept calm.

“Just give me the keys, Jennie...”

You sounded like you were tired of this charade, but Jennie was in full spate and didn’t want to stop now.

“We shouldn’t do this to Miss Perfect. You should go back to her and tell her what an awful person I am. Isn’t this why she is here? So you can spite me? To make me realize what a failure I am and-“

Jennie didn’t get to finish her sentence before you finally snapped and cut her short.

“Oh cut the self-pity! You know why she is here tonight? Because she was there for me and you weren’t!”

You huffed in frustration before turning around and storming off, leaving Jennie alone in front of her car.

Why couldn’t you have said that Subin was there because she was prettier than her? Jennie even would have accepted if you had called her nicer. No words could have hurt her more than the ones that you had used.

She was there for me and you weren’t.

Of course, Jennie hadn’t been there for you. How could she have? She had chosen her career over you after all. The one time, Jennie could have proven her love for you, she failed to. Tears started streaming down her cheeks and a silent sob escaped her lips. She just wanted to go home now and lock herself in her dark bedroom forever.

With her shoulders slouched, Jennie turned around to get into the car, but once more, she was stopped last minute. Someone yanked the keys out of her hand, causing her to look back in shock.

You again.

“Get in the passenger seat.”

You growled and this time your face wasn’t unreadable. Anger was written all over it and even your voice trembled, carrying the power of your emotions. Immediately, Jennie realized her limits and obediently walked around the car to get in the passenger seat. After fastening her seatbelt, she turned her head to look at you insecurely. She had never seen you like this before. Your eyes seemed to be spitting fire and your knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard.

Maybe this night hadn’t only taken a toll on her.

Faster than usual, you sped through the nearly empty streets of the sleeping city while Jennie didn’t dare to utter a word. There didn’t seem to be anything left of the weak pushover that she had toyed around with during your last encounter. It seemed like it was true what people said. What didn’t kill you, did make you stronger; at least you could be the living proof of that. After all the games that she had played with you, all the wounds that she had caused you, you were finally standing up to her.

It was the perfect wakeup call. What had she been thinking? She had promised Jiyong that she would accept your decision tonight. No matter whether you would decide to give her a chance or not. And Subin was a very clear sign that you were not willing to mend things with her. But instead of keeping her promise, she had made a scene like the selfish monster she was. In shame, Jennie let her head hang and bore this suffocating silence, knowing that she deserved your anger. It seemed like the ride home lasted all night, but after an excruciating long time, the steady noise of the engine finally ceased, and you parked the car in front of her apartment.

There were a thousand things that Jennie wanted to say, but she didn’t have enough courage to do so. She just wanted to stick to her initial plan and hide in her dark bedroom forever. Therefore, Jennie quickly threw open the car door and bolted out of the car. The front door of the building was close, yet so far for someone that had an undefinable cocktail of diverse liquors in their stomach. Jennie’s legs just didn’t work like they were supposed to, and she could only just feel her knees giving in when her face already moved towards the ground in a rapid pace. Before it was about to collide painfully though, something wrapped around Jennie’s waist and stopped her fall. She felt herself getting straightened up again and she turned around in confusion, only to find herself standing face to face with you. You were merely inches in front of her to the extent that your torsos were touching; yet you weren’t moving away. Your feet were firmly planted on the ground and Jennie felt shivers running down her spine due to the proximity. Automatically, her gaze flickered to your lips, feeling an unbearable desire to close the distance. Only the knowledge that you were seeing someone else right now was holding her back. But why weren’t you pushing her away? Could it be that you wanted this too? Jennie’s face moved closer to yours like your lips were magically drawing her in. You still didn’t push her away; it would be so easy to get the taste that she was craving.

No.

Jennie jumped back as if someone had just scared her. You were taken. She wouldn’t seduce you. Jiyong had told her that you were finally happy, and she couldn’t selfishly temper with your happiness. Not again. Regret filled Jennie, thinking back about the breakup and the incident at Jiyong’s vernissage. She had never even apologized to you.

“Y/N, I’m s-“

She choked out but she didn’t get to finish as you pressed your finger on her lips.

“Sh.”

You shushed her, causing her to look at you with wide eyes.

You almost had a smug look on your face, leaving Jennie completely confused. But you didn’t seem to care about an explanation. Instead, you suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the entrance of the building. Perplexed, Jennie let you drag her and stumbled behind you without talking back. Together you stepped into the empty elevator, but Jennie wished that someone would be there with you. The tension was making her heart beat five times faster and she gulped thickly when you suddenly stepped in front of her. Like a tiger on the hunt, you silently crept closer, causing her to walk backwards until she reached the wall.

“Why did you get wasted tonight? Can’t you stand to see another woman touching me?”

You asked with a cocky smile on your lips, catching Jennie off guard. She didn’t know what to answer. You were right, but she didn’t want to admit that. Therefore, she tried to shake her head, but her gesture was barely noticeable.

“Did you miss me?”

At last, you had closed the final distance between the two of you and softly pressed your body against hers, causing Jennie to gasp. She could feel your breath on her face, but you didn’t stop moving closer. Your lips were so close that Jennie could almost taste them. But just when they were about to touch, a ringing sound could be heard, indicating that the elevator had reached the right floor. The door opened and you pushed yourself off her with a smirk. Jennie inhaled shakily to recollect herself, but right in that moment, you grabbed her wrist again to drag her behind you. Apparently, her nightmare disguised as a daydream wasn’t over yet. With big steps you crossed the hallway until you were standing in front of her apartment door.

“Unlock.”

You ordered firmly, causing Jennie to flinch.

Immediately, she started rummaging in her bag to search for the keys, but she was too nervous to steady her hands. You had completely thrown her off balance and all the sensory impressions around her were too much for her to take in. In her mind, she still tried to process the scenario in the elevator just now, causing her to lose focus and making it impossible to find the keys. Eventually, you huffed impatiently and yanked the bag out of her hands to get the keys yourself. You merely needed a second before you had found the desired item and cleared the way into her apartment.

Roughly, you pushed Jennie inside before slamming the door shut and pressing her against it. All she could do was to stare at you with wide eyes as you smirked smugly. Slowly, you lifted your hand and tugged a strand of hair behind her ear before letting your finger graze her jawline. Jennie’s eyelids automatically fluttered close due to the sensation and she felt like she was melting under your touch.

“Perfect.”

You whispered, your mouth being so close next to her ear that shivers ran down Jennie’s spine.

When she opened her eyes again, you were staring at her intently and Jennie immediately got lost in your eyes. How she had missed being so close to you. She didn’t know why anyone would ever think that she had power over you when in reality, it was the exact opposite. One word from you and she was quiet; one touch and her heart jumped out of her chest; one look like the one that you were giving her right now and she could feel heat spreading in her core. She just couldn’t bear this tension anymore. She knew that you were having fun right now while teasing her, but she needed to taste your lips at least. Hastily, she leaned forward to grab your hips in order to pull you in, but she grasped at nothing, almost causing her to fall over. You had suddenly taken a step back, causing Jennie to stare at you in confusion.

“Sucks to be left high and dry, doesn’t it?”

You chuckled with an evil smile playing on your lips and Jennie wondered if she had misheard your statement. With her hands still hovering in the air, she stood frozen in place, unable to say a single word, much to your amusement. An ugly laugh caused your chest to tremble and Jennie flinched in shock.

“Oh you are adorable.”

You sighed, although the mockery was not to miss hearing.

“And so, so dumb...”

Slowly, Jennie realized what was going on, but her heart refused to believe it.

“You think, you’re so good, don’t you? You think that just one look will make me fall for you again, right? But you’re wrong. You can’t satisfy me. You never could.”

There was pure disgust in your voice that caused tears to pool in Jennie’s eyes.

“Did you think our little quickie had been enough to make me forget about everything you��ve done? I have always needed more. I wanted your love, Jennie. But a monster like you can’t give me that. I know that now.”

As you kept talking, Jennie felt herself drifting away mentally. She heard your words, she felt them cutting deep into her heart, into her soul, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight back. She didn’t care about the pain anymore. It was what she deserved after all.

“But Subin can give me what I want. She can give me so much more than you. You are nothing but selfish, pathetic and incapable of love. You’ve proven that over and over again. Did you really think, I would ever come back to you?”

You scoffed sardonically, causing Jennie to feel more mortified than ever before. Yes, once again, she had hoped that she could be good enough for you. And once again, she had proven that she wasn’t.

Jennie didn’t know how long you kept mocking her. It felt like hours. Every word dug a little deeper into her chest and in the end, a huge hole was ripped into it, causing a torrent of blood to gush out of her heart. She felt like a ghost and apparently that was truly all that was left of her, because you didn’t bother to let her defend herself. Instead, you turned on your heel as soon as you were done talking and left her standing there in her misery.

Jennie wished that you had just talked a little longer. Maybe your words could have made the hole in her chest consume her completely, instead of leaving behind the zombie that she was right now. Half dead, half alive and the only antidote to her slow death had just walked out of her life.

---

As you bolted through the front door of the apartment building, you gasped for air as if you had been holding your breath since setting foot in this place. What had you done? That couldn’t have been you. You weren’t one to play dirty; much less one to take revenge. But after Jennie had stumbled into your arms and you had seen the regret and desire in her eyes, you knew that she would be an easy victim. For once, you had the upper hand. You could give her a taste of her own medicine.

But it seemed like you had given yourself a hefty sip of it too. There was a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, and you didn’t feel as glorious as you thought you would. You felt like throwing up. You tumbled over in the little front yard of the apartment complex, but nothing left your body. Because it wasn’t your stomach that was rebelling against you. It was your bad conscious. You didn’t know how Jennie could have survived her games with you unscathed. The picture of her petite figure standing in front of you hunched in pain was engraved into your brain now. And even worse, it had carved into your heart too, ripping it into two.

“Damn it!!”

You yelled, ramming your fist against the tree next to you, causing the skin around your knuckles to break open. Blood was dripping to the floor, but you couldn’t care less.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You shouldn’t have feelings for Jennie anymore. But why did it hurt so much right now? Why had you almost discarded your plan and kissed her senseless up there? Yes, Jennie had been your drug. But you had been sober for a while now. How long would it take until you finally had her out of your system? Your world shouldn’t revolve around Jennie anymore, it should revolve around...

Subin.

In shock, you ripped your head up, remembering that you had left your girlfriend at a table with a bunch of strangers after giving a highly questionable excuse why you had to chase after Jennie. Subin knew that she was your ex, but you might have left out a few details concerning your relationship. Your girlfriend knew that Jennie had broken your heart, but she didn’t know that it had never mended ever since. And she should never learn. Therefore, you needed to get back to her. Since storming out of Jinyong’s apartment too much time had already passed, and you weren’t sure whether Subin was still waiting for you there. Plus, you didn’t really want to go back again and explain yourself. It would be for the best if you would just go home and simply send Jiyong an apologetic text for being a bad guest. For now, Subin was your priority.

Determined, you walked to the street, only to curse a second later when you realized that you hadn’t come here with your own car. With an annoyed huff, you pulled out your phone to order a car which would cost you precious time that you didn’t have. But there was nothing that you could do. Reluctantly, you waited for the car before ordering the driver to bring you home. Nervously, you sat in the backseat, bouncing your leg and thinking about the consequences of tonight. How would your girlfriend react? You hadn’t only ditched her, you had ditched her for your ex-girlfriend; who you had almost seduced. Frustrated, you grasped your hair. This was a disaster.

“Rough night, hm?”

The driver chuckled from the front seat and you flashed him a tired smile. You weren’t in the mood for jokes right now. You needed an adequate solution. For one, you had to apologize to your girlfriend. A difficult task, but not impossible. For two, you had to get Jennie out of your system. That, on the other hand, was a borderline insane task which needed thorough planning which you weren’t capable of doing tonight. Therefore, you chose to stick to the easier task for now.

You needed to make an overwhelmingly good apology to your girlfriend and you already knew where to begin with that.

“Can we stop by the next convenience store please?”

There was nothing that a sincere apology and some flowers couldn’t fix, so you ordered the driver to make a little stopover. A quick solution which allowed you to find yourself in front of Subin’s apartment 15 minutes later with a bouquet of flowers in your hands and a drafted apology in your head. You looked up at the building from the car, seeing that there was still light in Subin’s windows and you inhaled deeply to calm your nerves.

“You’ve got this buddy!”

The driver gave you an encouraging thumbs up and you thanked him before exiting the car.

Slowly, you walked up to the entry and let yourself in with the key that Subin had given you a while back. For once, you decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator in order to be able to have a little more time to recollect yourself. When you finally reached her apartment door, you felt more or less like you hadn’t made the worst decisions of your life tonight. Your hands had finally stopped trembling and your brain was able to focus on anything else but Jennie again. Therefore, you unlocked the door and silently slipped into the apartment like so many times before.

Inside, everything seemed to be like usual. The TV was running and Subin was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands. Only when she turned her head to look at you, you gulped thickly. She didn’t seem to be seething in anger, but her gaze wasn’t friendly either.

“Hey, babe.”

You waved awkwardly, but Subin ignored you coldly to pay attention to the TV again. She was definitely mad...

With slouched shoulders, you walked up to her in order to sit down next to her, like a child preparing to be scolded. Regardless of her ignorance, you cleared your throat and started to apologize.

“I’m really sorry, Subin. I know this evening was nothing like it was supposed to be and I really deeply regret how I handled everything. But I can explain.”

Carefully, you glanced up to see how your girlfriend would react. She rolled her eyes in annoyance but turned off the TV in order to pay attention to you.

“This explanation better be good. You left me alone with complete strangers, Y/N.”

If looks could kill, you would be dead by now. But you didn’t let yourself be discouraged.

“It is! You know about my history with Jennie. The thing is that I left a few things out...”

Your statement seemed to have sparked Subin’s interest and she turned her torso in order to be able to look at you better.

“I know that Jennie always seems to be a cold person on TV, but she isn’t. She struggles a lot with her fame, and she has a lot of issues that not a lot of people are aware of. But I am. And I know that she tends to deal with her issues horribly. So when I saw her earlier, I got really worried. I was afraid that she would do something rash, which turned out to be right. She was completely wasted and wanted to drive home. And I couldn’t allow that. So I brought her home.”

Technically, you weren’t lying; at least that was what you told yourself in order to not let your bad conscious drag you down again. Maybe you weren’t necessarily telling the whole truth, but you meant well. You were trying to spare Subin’s heart. She didn’t deserve to get tangled up in this mess. You loved her and that was all that mattered. The rest had to be fixed by you alone.

“Oh I didn’t know that.”

Subin simply said and you saw that her angry demeanor was starting to crumble.

“Of course, you didn’t. You couldn’t have known! And that’s on me. I haven’t told you the whole truth, because I had the feeling that I still had to protect Jennie. But I don’t need to do that. I’m with you and only you. So I need to start behaving accordingly.”

Carefully, you took your girlfriend’s hand, expecting her to pull away, but when she didn’t, you continued.

“I promise that I’ll work on myself in the future. No more erratic decisions and I promise to communicate better. No more secrets.”

You smiled, but you wondered whether Subin was able to see the shadow that laid upon you tonight. You weren’t yourself. You didn’t know who this monster was that looked like you but didn’t act accordingly. But it was shocking to hear those lies rolling off your tongue like they meant nothing. When had you become a perfect liar? You hoped that it wasn’t too late to save yourself though. You just needed a fresh start. You needed to leave everything behind and forget about the past.

Your salvation significantly depended on your girlfriend though, so you looked at her pleadingly.

“Fine, I’ll forgive you. But don’t you dare to ever leave me alone with your weird friends again!”

Subin chuckled and you laughed out loud.

“I promise.”

You whispered as you already closed the distance between the two of you to connect your lips.

Nothing was in the way between you and your fresh start now anymore.

At least that was what you had thought. But like always, it was so much easier to make promises than to keep them. You wanted to be better for Subin; you really did. You were ready to let go of the past, but what you didn’t realize was that it wasn’t ready to let go of you.

And your obliviousness should turn out to be your doom.

#blackpink scenario #blackpink #jennie scenario #jennie #blackpink imagine #jennie imagine #girl group imagine #girl group scenario #girl group #kpop scenario #kpop

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angelguk · 5 years ago

Text

→ fine line — a namjoon scenario

member: kim namjoon (rm)

word count: 6.7k

genre: smut + enemies to friends w benefits honestly + everyone is aware if it but them + jimin is annoying + it’s christmas and ppl r horny

warnings: namjoon is big :) / fingering / oral sex (f recieving) / uhh almost fucking in a bathroom / alcohol consumption / dommish namjoon / v long for absolutely no reason

soundtrack: situationship, snoh aalegra

It's an understatement to say that you hate Kim Namjoon. At this point it's not in even hate, it's unadulterated abhorrence. Every time he saunters into a room, the silage of his musky cologne lingering after him, you have to repress the intense need to gag. If you had it your way, you would never be around him. But because he has somehow developed a close relationship with your best-friend Taehyung, he'd gradually wormed his way into your life. It had started slow, causal lunches that he suddenly appeared at, birthday parties he was suddenly invited too and then it was dropping by Taehyung's to find him perched on your friend's floor, fresh from work, reeking of soju and his necktie loosened from its secure knot as if he lived there.

At first, you paid no attention to him, assuming that he would get the hint that you were not interested in being his friend despite his closeness to Taehyung. Yet, for some reason unbeknown to you, the self-proclaimed genius with a law degree under his belt never took the hit. It's as if he enjoyed getting under your skin, relished the irritation that would warm your checks and set your mouth into a hard line whenever he poked at you with his snarky comments and insincere smiles. It made you want to punch him in throat sometimes. But even you didn't know where this animosity spawned from. You couldn't explain it even to Taehyung when he'd tentatively asked why you didn't click with his closest colleague. You'd blanked at the question actually. It was hard to put it into words, the feelings you held against Namjoon. It wasn't like he was outwardly a terrible person. He had a charming nature about him, was easy to approach and an amiable smile that drew people towards him. It didn't help that he was also tall and large and wore fitted shirts the spread tightly over his wide chest. It made your own feel like it's caving in on itself sometimes. But that's not an observation you would like to dissect, not now. Not ever. And especially when Namjoon's sprawled on the living room couch, legs spread and his thick thighs on display, bulging through the taut fabric of his jeans. He's idly scrolling through his phone, face illuminated by the soft amber light filling the room, a hand ruffling the dusty blonde mane on his head.

The sight itself makes you halt under the doorway, the drinks Jimin had handed to you stagnant in your hands. Something lurches dangerously in your gut when he settles further into the chair, tucking a cushion under his arm. He looks snug, something about that makes you blink very hard.

Yes, you hate Kim Namjoon.

"Stop eye-fucking him," Jimin murmurs as he glides past. You splutter violently, eyebrows kissing your hairline when you lock gaze with him. You don't miss the mischievous glint in his brown eyes.

"I wasn't," You hiss in return, feet suddenly working again.

Jimin gives you a look. It says a lot of things but the general gist is that he knows you're lying out of your ass. "Sure," He drawls, dumping the mugs he's carrying onto the coffee table. "I believe that."

You make sure to kick his knee once you've placed down your own mugs, ignoring the perplexed glance Namjoon throws at the both of you.

"Eggnog?" He says instead of inquiring about your odd behaviour. He peers at the cups like you're offering him poison.

"Yes," Jimin retorts, a bright grin on his face when he notices the scowl gracing your face. "Post dinner shenanigans must ensue immediately. Where's everyone else? We've got Christmas games to play."

"Pretty sure Hoseok and Seoyeon are fucking upstairs, Taehyung's somewhere outside with Jeongguk and Iseul and I think Minhee's in the bathroom."

Jimin makes a face at Namjoon's remark about Hoseok. "Right after dinner? Honestly?"

You give him a sharp glance when Namjoon snorts at his snide. He's acting like he hasn't devoured a whole ice sundae before sucking some dude off in a public restroom. Maybe he can read it in your gaze because he elbows you rather roughly. "Go get the rest of the drinks or I'll leave you with him," Jimin mutters, head turned to avoid Namjoon discerning his comment. You roll your eyes but walk away, glad for the brief break from Namjoon before Jimin insists that everyone convene and you have to pretend to tolerate him for the whole night. The alcohol would certainly help but being in a closed space with Namjoon for longer than thirty minutes made you want to bang your head against a wall. It would be nice if you could just wipe him off your life, but he stuck there like an immovable stain, immune to all your efforts to erase his existence.

Regardless, Namjoon must have been right about Hoseok, because he comes down with his face flushed peach, Seoyeon clinging to his side with a dopey grin spread across her pretty lips. They stay glued together for the rest of evening, not even glancing up with Taehyung, Jeongguk and Iseul saunter in, coated in snow and noses red from the bitter cold raging outside. They don't even notice when Minhee finally emerges from the bathroom. It's only when Jimin forces them apart do they acknowledge anyone else's presence. But at that point you're on your second mug of eggnog, dutifully ignoring Namjoon with your body pressed snugly against Jeongguk's.

That's how your evening pans out, belly gradually filling with the endless stream of eggnog Jimin supplies out of the kitchen, a grin steadily creeping onto your lips with every ridiculous game that sprouts from his head. It's undeniable that he's the life of the party, dragging a loud laugh from your mouth when his charade battle against Iseul, Jeongguk and Minhee turns ugly. At some point, Taehyung stumbles into an argument with Namjoon over whether Home Alone or Elf was the superior Christmas movie which has you cracking up despite the constant stream of Namjoon's rumbling voice filling the air. And then Seoyeon forces everyone to start singing Christmas carols, belting loud and completely out of key but too drunk to care. It's a merry moment, where the hostility you hold against Namjoon briefly falls to the back burner of your brain. Even his jokes make you giggle, something that you're not aware of until Jimin gives you a pointed look, his eyebrow cocked. And then you're forced to stifle your laughter whenever he says something remotely funny which is annoying because underneath the pretty haze of your drunkenness everything is funny. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

It's only when your stomach starts swimming dangerously do you take your leave, wobbling towards the bathroom where you perch yourself on the toilet seat. You rest your head between your knees, fingers despairingly clutching the hem of your dress as you contemplate how you got to this point, the bathroom tiles whirling underneath you. You can hear them through the door, Seoyeon's jubilant squeals (probably a result of something Hoseok did) and the loud baritone of Namjoon's seeping through the wood. There's a carol playing that you can't recall the name of, but you hum it until your queasiness subsides. Maybe, if you hadn't stuffed yourself with an obscene amount of bread pudding during dinner you would be feeling fine. It sits heavy in your gut, threatening to spew itself across the pristine bathroom floor. It gradually ebbs away and when you lift your head, the world isn't moving flying fast anymore.

You take a moment to collect yourself, a silly grin on your face when you finally stagger up to the mirror. It's still evident you're drunk, there's no way to hide it but your pat your face anyway attempting to sober up and breathing slowly. It works, albeit to a minuscule degree.

You don't expect to bump into him when you exit the bathroom, balance still uneven. He's exiting the living room, feet drifting in the direction of the bathroom you'd just popped out from. It's the astonishment that makes you stumble, your feet fumbling over themselves when Namjoon's broad chest collides into yours. The small sound that leaves you mouth makes your cheeks hit up, a dangerous uptick in your heartbeat when his wide palms suddenly clamp down on your shoulders, pulling your closer until your pressed flush against him. You regain your balance so fast that you head spins when you shove him away, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You don't expect to find the concern colouring his honey eyes.

"Are you okay?" He murmurs, hands instinctively coming up to steady you once more.

You lean into it without thinking before immediately taking a sharp step back, a tiny laugh tumbling from your lips. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He eyes the bathroom door behind you. "You were there for a while. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm peachy, Namjoon. Perfectly fine. A little drunk, but fine." Although the fact that he noticed your absence makes your heart clench dangerously in your chest, the look he gives you isn't appreciated in the slightest.

"A little bit drunk? You sure about that?" You read the incredulity in his tone easily enough and the hostility you feel towards him rears it's ugly head immediately.

"Yes," You hiss, trying to slip away but Namjoon's blocking the entrance with his wide shoulders. He stays stagnant, eyes flickering over your face as he attempts to decipher whats ruminating in your head. You're fortunate he's not a mind-reader because you're having a lot of thoughts about the way his navy sweater fits over his chest right now. But for a split second, when he cocks an eyebrow, you think that he's found a way into your thoughts, skin heating up at the mere idea of Namjoon being able to read the things running through your brain right now. But then he opens his mouth, the beginning of a coy smirk tugging at this plump pink lips, and that notion wilts immediately.

"You should learn how to handle your liquor." The comment makes you bristle. Maybe if you just bulldozed him over Namjoon would shut-up and leave you alone.

"And you should learn how to mind your business," You retort, shooting him a hard glare that Namjoon responds to with a sickeningly broad smile.

"I was concerned, can't having you throwing up over everything in the bathroom can we?"

"It's none of your concern if I was, Namjoon. And I'm fully capable of cleaning up my own mess - if I even threw up. You've never even seen me throw up."

He shrugs, irritatingly nonchalant while you bubble with ire. "I've heard stories."

When you find Taehyung and Jeongguk, you'll kill them. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

"Could you just fucking move? I really don't have the energy to entertain you right now." You're on the verge of just roughly pushing him aside, but your palm itches at the prospect of touching his chest, hand involuntarily curling into a fist. Namjoon stays immobile before you, a tiny grin on his lips that you are aching to wipe off.

There's another venomous comment about to tumble from your lips, but the ringing voice of Jimin cuts through it, loud and clear.

"Mistletoe!" At first, you don't get it, staring at his smug face confused. But then you tilt your head, finding the accusing plant dangling above your head. You don't miss the gleeful laugh that bursts from Jeongguk's mouth when he catches Jimin's comment and before long, everyone is looking at the two of you, expectant.

You'd rather shoot yourself in the foot.

But Jimin is relentless, slithering towards you with tumblers of whiskey in his hand, a devious smile gracing his lips. "Come on, you know the rules. Kiss already!"

"Jimin, don't you dare," You seethe. Namjoon doesn't miss that, percipient gaze flickering between the two of you.

"What do you mean?" He's feigning ignorance and you're considering smacking his head. "And what are two waiting for? Kiss!"

Jeongguk jumps in a beat later, immediately followed by rest of your friend group. The chant is accompanied by Taehyung loudly banging the coffee table to the rhythm of the word 'kiss'.

You glance at Namjoon not expecting him to be staring at you so intently.

"So?" He cocks his head.

"No," You firmly retort.

"They aren't going to let us live," He reasons, which is true because your friends are behaving like animals right now over a simple kiss.

"I don't care," You softly murmur.

"Well, okay. But they'd forget about it if we just kissed." You pause, quickly thinking it over as your gaze falters over Jimin and Jeongguk chanting the words like it's their only lifeline. There's no way they would forget it but it would make the rest of the night a lot easier.

"Fine," You mutter. "No tongue. I'll kill you if you use tongue."

"A peck isn't a kiss," Namjoon laughs, already leaning into your space. You hate how your eyes catch on his, locking on his gaze so quick that you reel from it. "But are you sure you didn't throw up?"

"Namjoo-" Your words are swallowed by his mouth, lips swiftly moulding against yours. The sudden touch coaxes a low moan out of your mouth, one that immediately sets your cheeks ablaze. But Namjoon eats it up, a wide palm rising to cup your chin. He tilts your head ever so slightly, following the directive act with a tentative swipe of his tongue against your lips. They part involuntarily, the feeling of Namjoon's mouth softly moving against your own sending a sudden shock straight to your core. He tastes faintly of eggnog, sweet against your lips. Maybe you lean forward, maybe your eyes flutter when his nose bumps against yours. Maybe everything falls away and you can only hear the pounding thump of your heart in your chest as your blood roars violently. It's slow and fast simultaneously. Like time is dragging itself out and running from your fingertips all at once. When his mouth finally parts from yours, the sound in the room comes crashing down on you. Jimin's whooping in the background, his voice barely drowned by the ruckus everyone else is making. But you can't tear your gaze away from Namjoon to throw them a chiding look. You're too entrapped in the warm honey of his eyes to tear yourself away. You can't decipher wants running his head but you're acutely aware of his fingertips still pressed against your chin. And of how violently your lips buzz, warm with the imprint of his mouth.

But then as quickly as it started it's over. Namjoon's suddenly so far away, gaze turned away from you, glancing at Jimin with a bright smile on his face. You despise how your focus zeros in on his pink lips, heartbeat bruising your ribs.

"Jimin," He chides, the baritone of his voice sending a spark through your system. "Take this stupid plant down." There's a gentle chastisement with that comment, but Jimin laughs it off, a sound that makes you finally turn to glance at your friends. Namjoon brushes past you a second later, like you didn't exist. As if his mouth wasn't on yours a moment ago. Maybe your heart sinks to your stomach but that odd feeling of disappointment vanishes when Jimin slings his free arm around your neck, nudging a shot glass into your stationary hands.

"You should thank me," He slyly mumbles into your ear. You focus on the slamming of the bathroom door behind you instead. You snatch up the shot glass a moment that, head full of emotions you're not sure you can work through at the moment. It feels like you've driven into the middle of thick fog, nothing around you clear, not even the odd ache you feel inside your chest.

Jimin gets a sharp elbow to the ribs when he laughs at your perplexed face, your feelings obviously painted on your features. "Shut up," You hiss, trying to escape from his strong grasp. "I can't believe you did that. Take that fucking plant down."

"Nope, I won't," He retorts, securing his grip and you as he tugs you into the living room. The broad grin on his face is plastered on everyone else too, much to your chagrin. It's hard to ignore their side-eyes and sneaky comments. Even after the familiar burn from the shots Jimin keeps handing to you ebb away, you're left folded into yourself in the corner of the couch, gaze hazy. There's too much sitting on your mind that the alcohol fails to wash away. Maybe that's what sets it all in motion, the restlessness you feel. And perhaps, it's also the fact that your mouth is still tingling. You fingers itch to brush them but you can see Taehyung glancing at you from your peripheral vision. Instead they sit pretty on your lap, head too preoccupied to engage with the shenanigans the rest of your friends are participating in. But you're thoughts spiral quickly, and maybe the drinks hit you too hard because you're profoundly aware of Namjoon's missing presence. The fact that he's not emerged from the bathroom has you frowning, and then your thoughts violently spiral.

Why did he kiss? He could have just walked away the moment Jimin started making noise. Why did he do that? He didn't have to do any of it.

You're up on your feet before your brain can convene with your heart. There's the faint sound of Minhee murmuring your name but you're too worked up to listen, moving towards the bathroom with uncharacteristic speed. It's bold to knock on the bathroom door when you know someone' s in there. For all you know Namjoon could be in the middle of taking a shit but you don't care, knuckles rapping sharply against the word.

"Yes?" You don't expect the asperity in his voice, your gaze faltering on his cold one. He's staring at you hard, a slither of his face peeking through the ajar door.

"Oh." The argument you've conjured up in your mind promptly evaporates, tongue sticking onto the roof of your mouth.

"Yes?" Namjoon tries again, his jaw ticking.

"Are you alright in there? You've been in here for a while," You suddenly blurt out. The reiteration rubs him the wrong way, evident by the way his jaw sets, a glint in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"Peachy," He hisses. You flush, recalling your words with your lip caught between your teeth.

"Sorry, I have something to ask you." The admission has the both of you staring at each other in silence, Namjoon clearly trying to read the implication behind those words.

"And it can't wait?" He asks. You shake your head because it truly can't. You won't have the courage to confront him about without the familiar buzz running through your system. It'll probably just sit in the back of your mind, worn from how often you think about that moment.

"Really?" He cocks an eyebrow, but the door opens ever so slightly.

"Really? Are you doing anything in there?"

"Just thinking. You wanna talk in here?"

You nod again, swallowing down the sudden hesitation you feel creeping up your throat. "Yes," It comes out soft. "Let's talk in there."

Namjoon cocks his head, but then the door is pushed open.

The tiles spin underneath your footsteps and your gaze quickly flickers around the bathroom, searching for what you're not sure. The toilet seat is down like Namjoon had been sitting onto it, contemplating similar to how you were earlier. He chooses to perch himself on the bathroom sink though, leaving you to lean against the opposing wall, eyes lingering on the way his thighs spread out for a second too long.

There's a silence in this space, which Namjoon waits for you to fill. All of a sudden the courage you feel evaporates, replaced by a hesitation that makes you bite your lip, shoulders folding in on themselves. But then he coughs, a noise you know is fake by the way he looks at you. He's impatience. It would be better to just say it, rip the question from your throat. You focus on the light above his head as you say it, too nervous to look directly at his waiting gaze.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to shut you up."

You blanch, leaning hard against the tiled wall. It's cold against your burning skin, cutting through the heat of your embarrassment. "What? You kissed me because you wanted to shut me up?"

Namjoon shrugs like this isn't a pivotal moment in your nonexistent relationship. "Yes. Why are you asking?" He shifts on the counter, long legs spreading out.

"Why? You can't be going around kissing people because you just want to!"

He laughs, a low sound that makes your heart do a funny thing in your chest. "I don't go around kissing people. I just kissed you. And I know you don't like me. You keep running your mouth whenever I'm around, I just wanted to make you shut up for once. So I kissed you. Where's the fault in that? Blame Jimin's mistletoe, love. Or stop acting like I can't hear everything you say about me."

"I don't run my mouth about you," You splutter. He cocks an eyebrow in disbelief, hands settling on the thick muscle of his thighs that your eyes don't linger at. "And it's not that I don't like you. I just don't..."

"You don't what? Don't like me? It's alright you can say it, love. I don't care."

The glare you give him is venomous. "Maybe if you weren't such a cocky bastard I would like you. And stop calling me love."

His back straightens at that, eyebrows raised in challenge. "You think I'm cocky? You know you're friends with Kim Taehyung, right?"

"I'm fully aware, thank you for the useless observation, Namjoon," You snap back. "But I can tolerate him, you on the other hand..."

"Me on the other hand what?" Namjoon is suddenly upright, meandering towards you like a lion slinking up its prey. Your back hurts from the press of the tiles through the flimsy fabric of your dress. "Say it, love. Why can't you stand me?"

"Look Namjoon, some people just don't get along. That's us and that's fine. I'm required to like you because Taehyung does," You snap back.

He quirks an eyebrow, suddenly rising from the counter. You despise how broad he is, but when he sets closer your throat clamps up. "You're deflecting the question, you know that. You haven't answered why you don't like me. And for someone who doesn't like me you have a lot of questions about my intentions. Shouldn't you be yelling at me instead? Not asking why I kissed you. Or did you want there to be a reason other than convenience as to why I kissed you? Is that what you wanted?"

Your heart beats to the tempo of fleeing bird wings flapping in the wind. He's too close now, invading your space with a curious look in his brown eyes that have you folding into yourself. To see for you're liking. But Namjoon doesn't seem to care, staring at you like he read through your blatant lies with ease.

"You keep asking why I kissed you, I have a question for you now. Why do you care why I kissed you? Did you want me to kiss you?" Namjoon's broad chest is right against yours. Your heart is thumping hard against your rib-cage, threatening to shatter the bones with the force it's slamming into them with. You can't meet his steady gaze, cheeks burning from the sudden scrupulous examination of your character. It makes your skin spark like you've brushed by the touch of a thousand stars. The sparks are violent running through your body to settle deep inside your core. There's a heat collecting between your thighs, that turns into a full-fledged furnace with Namjoon's fingertips settle on your chin, tilting your head upwards. The remembrance of the action makes your heart swoops to your gut.

"Did you like it when I kissed you?" There's a field full of butterflies occupying your stomach, flapping around until you're heady with there presence.

"I-I." He smiles at your stutter, taking a sure step forward that results in his body pressed flush against yours.

"Answer the question."

"I'd like it if you got out of my space," You retort instead. Which is a blatant lie. You're positively vibrating from his close presence, skin a live-wire that exploded with every minute moment of contact. Namjoon must read through that false statement because he doesn't budge. Perhaps the small shiver that bolts through your system gives it away.

"Do you really want that?" He hums. You shiver again and Namjoon's lips spread into a glittering smile. The fingertips on your jaw are suddenly firm, ticking your head upwards until your eyes are glued on his. "Would you like it if I kissed you again?"

Your breath is caught in your throat, heart-thumping frenetically inside your chest. The air simmers with static, the humming your blood drowning every opposing thought sprouting in your mind. It's the way that he's looking at you that has you leaning forward on instinct. Dark honey eyes that streel you in, capturing you in the warmth of his gaze. You don't know when your eyes flutter closed. That happens naturally, like the feeling of Namjoon's wide palm gently cupping your chin. The moment your noses bump against each-other, mouths searching, your body bursts, like a burning star, suddenly falling in exhaustion. He still tastes like eggnog, a sweat cream coating his mouth. Your lips part fast, eager to feel him on your tongue. The choked groan that slips from your mouth falls into his easily. There's a buzzing on your lips with every bruising graze of his mouth there. Time falls away as it did before, every fibre of your hazy being focusing on the sure press of Namjoon on your mouth. It's both hard and soft at the same time, light brushes of his lips on you followed by firm kisses that leave you reeling, desperately wanting more. You're not sure when you began clutching the front of his sweater but you're clinging onto him now like he's you're the only lifeline, keeping you afloat from drowning in this vast sea of emotion.

When you finally part, breaths melting into each-other, Namjoon's staring at you with those wide brown eyes that make you lean forward again, your nose brushing against his. He sighs softly, involuntarily pressing another kiss on your lips. Your heart swoops int your gut when he does that, the drunken haze you're lost in turning you giddy.

"Happy now?" You murmur out, noting the way Namjoon's gaze flickers to your lips. "Since you've shut me up."

"You're still talking," He responds. His hand falls from your face, suddenly palming the span of your thighs. "What me to shut you up again?"

You nod quickly, attributing your compliance to how drunk you are. Perhaps the warmth emitting from his hands grasping the back of your thighs contributes to that as well, but know is not the time to analyse the reason behind your behaviour.

When he kisses you again, you dissolve, putty in his hands as his mouth works you open. There's deep groan floating from the back of his throat when you trail your hands down his front, fingertips admiring the broad expanse of his chest. It elicits a sharp spark in your gut, one that has your legs automatically falling open so that Namjoon can mould his body against yours. It doesn't take much to notice how hard he is, bulge nudging against your stomach. The sheer size of it has you moaning into his mouth, hands dropping south with need.

But Namjoon halts you, mouth red from your lips when he draws away. His heart thumping underneath your fingertips as he peppers a myriad of kisses along the hollow of your neck. You cave under them, sighing with every warm print of Namjoon's mouth across your blazing skin. The sound must affect him because you can feel him twitch in his pants, a minute motion that drenches your under in moments. And the Namjoon is pulling you from the wall, twisting you around as he backs you up against the skin, your bodies still clinging to each other desperately.

The counter is cold underneath your bare thighs but that's swiftly replaced by his warm palms clasping as your skin. He knocks your legs apart swiftly, lining your burning core with his crotch in a manner that has the both of gasping as your mouths meet once more, tongues eagerly melting into one. There's a quick roll against your hips that leaves you breathless, his cock nudging right against your clothed core. You shouldn't be this wet, but you can feel it leaking through your panties, underwear coated with your arousal as his hips rock into you.

He shifts away, swearing softly under his breath, you follow him, the sudden space between your legs feeling unbearable. There's a glint in his eyes when he picks up on your neediness, the grip on your thighs squeezing hard.

"Patience, love."

You huff cheeks hot from your embarrassment. "I said don't call me-"

He's on his knees so fast that you reel from it, the sudden nudge of his nose right against your core making your words stick in your throat. There's a gruff laugh at your sudden silence floating from his lips that vibrates against your core, your gaze stagnant on the image of his head between your thighs.

"Sorry," he murmurs, breath tickling your skin. There's a tremor echoing through your body that you refuse to acknowledge when he tilts his head upwards, pretty brown eyes coy. "Can I do this?"

"Yes, yes you can." Even if you wanted to deny it there's too strong of an ache in your core for you to refuse Namjoon. Not when he's on his knees for you, placing light kisses along your inner thigh that leave you clutching the counter edge hard, walls clenching on nothing.

He hums, pleased with the urgency lingering in your voice. But in actuality, he wouldn't have to know what do to do if you said now. His dick hurts from how hard it is right now, pressing violently through the fabric of his jeans. That's why he'd be hiding in the bathroom in the first place, attempting to get rid of the tent in his pants that he popped from kissing you. Kissing you, under a damn mistletoe. It's like his body regressed to being a horny hormonal teenager again. Maybe it was because of the dress you're wearing, stupidly short for the cold weather raging outside but you'd justified the choice of your outfit when Jimin had prodded by insisted that the cabin was obliviously warmer. And that had left Namjoon to try and not gawk at the outline of your body whenever you moved in front of him. It slides up your thighs and he knows you hadn't noticed that because you would have yanked it down. Instead, you'd left him to ruminate how nice it would be to leave that dress on the floor where it belonged, while you were under him.

Even though he reason his behaviour by insisting he would like to keep you quiet, that's not true. The sound of your voice does things to him, even when you're complaining about him all the damn time. He's aware of your stance on him, although he's not quite sure where it spurred from. But he couldn't care less. The countless arguments you'd shared made his day sometimes. You're so adamant, even over the slightest things. It would be infuriating if he didn't admire our passion. Or found the way your cheeks flushed when you were angry cute. Sometimes he started them on purpose, just to see your face heat up when he played the devil's advocate. It was fun, teasing you. But sometimes his mind would wander, eyes lingering on your lips and the sharp cut words that flew from them. Would you be so adamant with his cock deep inside your cunt? What sounds would you make if he fucked you senseless into the sheets?

But those had just been fantasies, locked away in the crevices of his mind. But today had been different. Very different.

When he'd kissed you and you'd just folded over, melted against his mouth like you needed him. Wanted him. It'd set off something in his brain. He'd never popped a boner so quick in his life.

Even now, when he swipes a tentative lick across your clothed cunt, it takes him by surprise how your legs shudder around his head, your wetness damp on the fabric.

"Fuck, you're wet." He can't help but comment on it, gaze captured by the sheen coating your thighs.

"Great observation, genius," You retort with an irritated huff. And just like that Namjoon can feel it creeping back, the defiance you carry like a second skin. He likes it, how sharp you can be, but underneath that he knows how compliant you can be too. And he wants to see that side right, wants you squirming underneath him, the only thing falling from your lips his name.

You panties come off so quickly that you're left speechless, stunned when Namjoon doesn't hesitate to part your fold with his tongue, lapping at your wetness like a starved man. It's quick but deliberate, the steady swipes of his tongue along your core, nose pressed against the apex of your cunt as he spreads you apart. It leaves you grasping at his hair, fingernails scraping against his skull as his tongue fucks you open, steadily toying with your dripping hole in a manner that has your thighs seizing up. It's not your fault when he latches his lips around your clit, licking with purpose, that you keen. A sound that has never come out of your mouth, ever. But it fills the bathroom, bouncing off the walls as your brain short-circuits on the feeling of Namjoon unravelling you with his mouth, his wide palms squeezing at your thighs with every jolt of your hips against his mouth

"Namjoon! Fffuck, could you - fuck!" There's too much going on but your brain can only take in the sound of Namjoon lapping at your core. It's obscene, the sound of his mouth on your cunt. There's slick coating your thighs with every press of Namjoon's lips against your folds. You don't know why you're this wet. It's odd, even for you. Yet, there's a pit in your gut when he glances up, mouth shiny with your arousal and his eyes dark.

"Yes?" Another kiss against your cunt, tongue dipping into your eager hole a moment later. You clench desperately around nothing, a sudden heat burning beneath your skin.

"Fingers," You murmur, throat clogged with moans you're holding back. "You can use your fingers."

He smiles against your cunt, drawing away to look at you. "You want my fingers, love? Want your pretty pussy stuffed with something?"

The 'something' catches your attention because you'd loved for him to flip you over and fuck your senseless right now. But that would change things, your entire dynamic would be shattered. Which it already has been, the cracks from this situation running deep. There's no way you can look at Namjoon again without imagining his mouth covered in your wetness. But having him fuck you, that would be something else entirely. So you settle for his fingers, nodding quickly when he grins at you, even though your aching to feel him stretch you out with his dick. You know it would hurt, he felt massive against your core. But it would be nice, to be stuffed full, fucked hard until you could feel him between your legs tomorrow.

That's not to say Namjoon doesn't have large fingers. He's big all over, a bulky broad man with wide hands that settle on the inside of your thigh, fingertips tracing your eager hole slowly.

It takes him by surprise, the little gasp you let out when he finally slides inside, finger covered in your slick. But then his mind registers how tight and warm you are around him, squeezing so desperately that his mind blanks. His dick jumps in his pants, already imagining how good you'd feel around his cock, wet walls clinging onto him desperately. You swear when he adds a second finger a moment later, a slight sting around your entrance that ebbs away. His fingers are bigger than yours. Much bigger. And they fuck you open with a vigour that has you groaning into the heavy air, legs spread for his vantage. When his mouth returns to your clit, licking with intent, you squeal. The noise has him groaning against your cunt, fingers curved inside you as he searches for that spot inside you, tongue lapping up your wetness. He gets want he wants a moment later, your walls clenching around his fingers hard as a shudder travels through your body, thighs trembling around his head.

"Namjoon! There, there, there. Fuck, pleassee!" You can feel it already, the fire in your gut blazing dangerously as his fingers slam into you. He sighs against you, pressing kisses along your thighs that have you shuddering underneath him again. You're close, the coil in your core threatening to snap with every sure press of his fingers inside you.

"I've got you," He murmurs into your skin. "Cum on my fingers, love. I know you want to."

And you do, desperately so, from the way your walls cling onto his fingers. When his tongue returns to your clit, soft little licks that make you jolt against his mouth you nearly do, the heat in your gut spreading fast along every nerve.

But then there's a sharp rapping on the door.

Namjoon doesn't pull away, but his mouth drops from your clit, the fire in your core dying down instantly. His fingers stay lodged in your cunt, covered with your arousal as the both of you stare at the door, mortified.

"Um." It's Taehyung, that little bitch. "Could the both of you keep it down?" And then there's barely stifled laughter filtering through the wood. You recognise Jeongguk's laugh right away, ringing loud among the giggles of your friends. You hate them. The whole lot of them. Drunken idiots.

When you glance at Namjoon you immediately think the moment is dead. He draws away from your cunt, fingers coated in your wetness and his tan cheeks tinged rouge. But then he slips them his mouth as he rises, leaning into your space, his hard bulge pressed into your open thighs. You watch him clean them off, his eyes locked on yours like your friends aren't falling over themselves outside the bathroom door. The heat in your gut sparks again, quick with the way it consumes you.

"You taste good," He hums, pressing his mouth onto yours again. You don't miss the way his dick twitches when you sigh into it, mind erasing the presence of your friends when his tongue slips into your mouth. There's an emptiness inside you that you vehemently despise, an ache to be filled that overwhelms you. If you don't cum on Namjoon's dick you'll be irritated for the rest of the night. You know it.

Perhaps he reads your mind through the kiss because when he draws away his eyes are dark with want.

"We could go upstairs?" He suggests, fingertips grazing the naked skin of your thighs.

"Yeah," You agree, the desperation to fucked driving your resolution. "We could go upstairs. Will you fuck me if we go upstairs?"

He cocks an eyebrow, smile coy. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?" But he's pressing closer into you, eliminating what meagre space was left between your bodies promptly.

"What do you think, genius?"

When he kisses you again, you doubt that you'll even make it upstairs.

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #smutcentralnet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #rm smut #rm x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #christmas present 1 !!!#happy holiday i love u!

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mila-dans · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss and Tell: Sweet Nothings

Chapter one of “Kiss and Tell”

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2487

Summary: What happens when a Winchester winds up with a curse on his hands? Or more specifically, on his lips? Only chaos, comedy, and cuteness ensues.

Just So You Know: This series will have seven chapters which have already be written and posted regularly. It’s small and sweet but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless. My apologies for, most likely, many mistakes. Let me know what you think! (Gif credit to the wonderous: @oneshoeshort)

“You’re kidding right?!”

“Nope, Sam’s silent for 24 hours!”

“Awesome!”

“Hell yeah it is! Now we don’t have to listen to him geek out over whatever it is that he does which I usually tune out.”

“This is incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

“Me either!”

You and Dean looked over to Sam who well, if looks could kill…

“Aw,” Dean started to say, reaching across the war room table to pat Sam on his shoulder. “It’s alright Sammy, only a day long. You’ll even be asleep half the time anyhow!”

“Shame though,” you let out.

“Tsk, tsk, yeah. Such a shame.” Dean shook his head and Sam’s bitch face turned into one that was happy to recognize that his best friend and brother finally understood that this was not a joke.

“I mean, think if it lasted a week!”

“Exactly!” Dean went on and the two of you broke out in laughter as Sam threw his hands up in the air with a face full of defeat.

“Oh come on, Sam,” you started, having trouble holding back a smile. “Quit being so sour about it. It could be much worse.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you the one who said, ‘It’s okay, I know what I’m doing,’ when you decided to mess around with magic?” Dean stated and you hummed in agreement. Sam rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw as he huffed. “You know, I do have to admit, usually it’s the witch herself that casts a curse or hexes someone but you,” he started to chuckle, “You did this all on your own buddy boy!”

You and Dean continued to laugh with glee as you watched the youngest Winchester’s cheeks turn red in embarrassment.

“Listen honey,” you continued to add on to the roasting, “You always claim that you are Mr. Perfect who never ever screws up, always pinning bad situations on us two, so we are gonna enjoy this for as long as we can!”

“Hell yeah we are!” Dean shouts, reaching over towards you for a high five which you happily return. Sam tries to speak but it comes out as grunts which only causes you and Dean to continue into another fit of giggles, tears starting to form in your eyes.

Sam stood up from his seat and came over to you, hovering over your shoulder in an agitated manner as you wiped the water streaming down your eyes, trying to catch a breath.

“What?” You let out in an exhale as your eyes met his. This was the most you’d laughed in a long long time and just seeing how pissed he was was the cherry on top of the sundae. You didn’t even like cherries but you sure as hell liked this.

He stood still, waiting for you to stop laughing, long enough for him to ‘speak.’ You looked at him, waiting for him to open his mouth just so you could burst again. He raised his eyebrow at you and threw up his hands. Whatever charades he was playing, the only thing it was doing was making Dean belly laugh.

“Alright, alright,” you took a deep breath and finally tried to help sort out whatever Sam was trying to ‘not say.’ “What is it, Sam?” You asked and were met with him doing some sort of sign language to which you just shook your head. “Sam! I do--I don’t know sign language!”

“Yeah, so just,” Dean spoke, trying to search for something, “Here.” He handed his brother a pen and paper and Sam took it quickly, writing down his words.

“What can I do to get rid of the hex?” The paper read as Sam held it in front of both of yours faces. You and Dean looked to the tall long haired man and smiled.

“Sorry, hot shot,” Dean answered. “You either wait out the 24 hours or pass the curse to someone else.” Sam threw his head back in a sigh then went to write down something else.

“How?” Was written on the paper.

“You gotta kiss someone.”

Sam went to feel the bridge of his nose as he scrunched up his face in stress. You couldn’t help but smile. Your best friend, Sam Winchester, was speechless for a whole day. Oh what fun.

“You’ll manage,” Dean grinned and let out another chuckle while Sam’s bitch face was turned up to bitch level one-thousand. You pitied the poor soul for a moment before he looked at you with impatient eyes. There was a moment of silence between the three of you as you put two and two together.

…

“Oh hell no!” You shouted. “No way are you kissing me little Winchester!” Sam tried to speak in defense but of course came up blank. You rolled your eyes and Dean started up laughing again. “I can’t believe you’d actually consider making me get the curse just so you could speak!”

“Sammy, you sly dog! Is this your way of finally getting Y/n to kiss you?!”

Sam’s face turned bright red and you were positive yours were turning as well.

“I know that you liked her but this is a cheap shot! Even for me!” Dean continued. He started laughing and you started to smile big at the thought of Sam liking you. No way was that true. Sam was Sam and you were Y/n. Bestfriends. That’s all. Or at least what you had to tell yourself every time the idea of wanting something more entered your mind.

Sam was quick to stand up and stomp out of the room in further embarrassment, leaving you and Dean chuckling in response.

“His face was priceless!” The older brother stated. You tried to laugh rather than pause and go into detail about his previous statement about the other thing that would only confuse you so much more.

“Yeah,” you let out, unsure of the situation. You shook your head and brushed it off as nothing then stood up from the table. “I’m gonna go check on our little voiceless Ariel.”

“No, do--don’t associate him with Ariel! That’s gross! I like her!” Dean muttered as you left the room.

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

“Can I come in?” You asked as your knuckles hit Sam’s door frame. You didn’t hear a response but then it set in as you chuckled at yourself. “Oh right,” you said, opening the door then pulling it shut behind you. “I forgot.” You smiled.

Sam was sitting up on his bed, back against the headboard with his arms crossed as you gave him a grin. He glared at you with his big hazel eyes and you just trudged over to his bed, falling on top of him and the mattress. You stretched out your limbs knowing that you were annoying him but he couldn’t do much about it, letting you get the chance to take advantage of the situation.

“So,” you started to speak as you crawled over him as he stayed still with a frown on his face. “How’s your day going?” You smiled, enjoying the situation. He let out a huff and decided to break eye contact with you, ever so dramatically, and look somewhere else in the room. “Wha?! Look at me! Don’t look over there!” You shouted, watching him lick his lips almost mockingly, knowing that it made you mad when someone didn’t look you in the eyes. “Look at me! I’m talking to you!”

You sat in his lap, looking straight in his face, waiting for him to look at yours. He kept turning his head every which way just to annoy you. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. You and Sam knew each other long enough that you picked up a thing or two of how to piss the other one off. And one thing that pissed Sam off was when you played with his hair or cuddled up close with him. God knows why. If it were you, having someone play with your hair or have their arms around you would be like a little slice of paradise. But in this case, you wanted to make him mad.

“Oh look at that,” you said nonchalantly. “Your hair looks so soft! I wonder what it feels like?!” You giggled as you saw the corners of Sam’s mouth form into a reluctant smile. You pried his arms from their crossed position, blocking his chest, and then wrapped your legs around his waist knowing full and well that he was bound to break. You knew what you were doing. He knew what you were doing. The only thing left to do was make him give up and smile.

You moved closer to him, showing the absolute biggest smile on your face as you began to move your fingers through his hair. You weren’t lying about it being soft. It was so very soft that you often got jealous because he wouldn’t ever tell you what shampoo and conditioner he used. You were so close to getting him to give in.

He continued to stare off into the distance, clenching his jaw to the point where it was about to pop, doing all he could to not look at you.

“I asked you how your day was, Sammy.”

There it is.

Sam’s eyes went from glaring at the wall to looking straight into your own. You tried to keep a straight face for as long as you could. You knew that you had him in your clutches now.

“What?” You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side. He raised his eyebrow at you, knowing that you knew exactly what he knew. You let a moment slip by as you fiddled with the strands of his hair and propped your arms on his shoulders. “What is it… Sammy?”

You stared blankly into his face, getting inches away, doing what you could to make him break. He shook his head no and you raised your eyebrows in question.

“What is it, Sammy?”

His eyes were about to pop out of his head. He shook his head no again.

“Sammy?”

No.

“Sammy? Sammy?” Every time you said it, you used a different tone just to make him crack. You cleared your throat to do your best Dean impression as you called out, “Sammy,” again making him smile.

“There it is!” You laughed and this time he shook his head with a grin coming from his lips. “I know how you just love being called ‘Sammy!’ Don’t you?!” He shook his head vigorously as you continued to laugh, enjoying your win. You looked into his eyes and saw a bit of a glimmer, not expecting what was to come next.

Within a moment’s notice, Sam wrapped his arms around you and took you for a spin as he pinned you down on your back. You did not like where this was going. He was not gonna do what you think he was gonna do.

“Don’t!” You warned as a smirk crossed Sam’s face. If he hated having his hair played with, or if you even hated people not looking at you in your eyes, this was the bell of the ball when it came to getting you pissed off. “Don’t you dare!” You shouted again. You tried to move but he had you stuck, unable to wiggle out of this one. “Sam, honey,” you started to plead with him as a last resort. “Don’t, I beg of you. Please little Winchester, don’t do it… SAM!”

You started to scream out loud as he did it. He did the one thing that you hated more than the devil himself.

Tickling.

“Sam! Sam--Sa--Sam! Stop it! St--Sto--It!” You tried to speak but couldn’t even get out full sentences due to the pure, genuine, laughter coming from your core. “Sa--I ca--I can’t--Let me--Sam!” You kept cackling, having a hard time keeping your eyes open as tears started streaming from them. You kept getting glances of Sam looking so joyous as he got the drop on you, knowing that you were gonna give him hell to pay, enjoying it while he could.

It was about the longest minute of your life as you completely were at a position in which you could do nothing but cry tears of unwanted joy. Sam kept going, breaking down all your walls as your deepest and truest laugh came to the light. You hated it, hence, you hated being tickled which is exactly why Sam was doing it.

Finally, Sam let you breathe without having to gasp for air with his big hands, brushing against your sides. You took a breath as he fell with his back on the bed next to you. You turned your head as he turned his, facing each other. He gave you a big smile and you struggled to not do the same.

“I hate that you know my tickle spots,” you admitted. “I hate it with a passion.” He took a happy sigh as you continued. “I seriously hate it, it’s not fair! You are like the only person in the world that gets to hear my horrific laugh and every single day I think about killing you so that no one can bear witness to the monstrosity!”

Sam smiled even bigger as he threw his hands up in the air as a reaction to the statement. Right about now, if he could talk, he would be questioning your reasoning like always.

“I’m serious, Sam! I’m gonna kill you one day and I’m warning you now so beware the next time you decide to cruelly tickle me!” You crossed your arms in a huff and watched as Sam leaned over close to you, eyes on you, grinning, and the grin was getting infectious. You bit your lip, using all your strength to not break but then… he winked… you were gone.

“Dammit, Sammy!” You yelled with a clear smile affecting your tone as happiness filled your voice. One look from Sam and you knew his thoughts. Before he had the chance to try and tickle you again, you kicked him off of you, right where it hurt, and crawled out of his bed.

You watched as he would curse you if he had the voice, rolling around in the bed, with his face barged in the pillows. You giggled at the sight.

“Quit being dramatic, Sam. You’re not an actor, only a techie.” You claimed. Sam’s face shot up quickly and the anger radiated from his expression. Before he could move, you went to grab one of his flannels that you loved so much and headed for the door knowing that he couldn’t stop you.

“Be ready in ten,” you ordered. “You’re coming with me to run errands.”

Sam raised his arms, obviously wondering why he had to go with you.

“Because, Sammy, I said so!” You answered, running off down the halls in another fit of giggles.

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Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged!

Tag list for my lovely ladies: @sl33pybo1 @captain-im-not-dead-yet @swallow-carrying-a-coconut

Next Chapter: That’s All You Got?

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paradisewithinpain · 4 years ago

Text

How They Respond to "I'm Fine"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⚡Harry⚡:

Not even gonna lie, this boy can be OBLIVIOUS

can tell something's wrong but won't push it once you say you're fine

(he doesn't like it when you snap at him)

ANYWAY

he eventually forgets about it and carries on with life

but after a while, he starts to see you're progressively getting worse

and every time he asks about it?

"i'M fiNE"

he starts to get worried and will think he's doing something wrong

poor boy

asks you to meet him in the astronomy tower

the two just sit in silence before he starts apologizing

you stare at him

"the fuck are you on about?"

he explains he's seen your behavior and how he thinks it's his fault

you stare at him for a minute then you start laughing

HARD

poor boy is over here like 👁👄👁

when you calm down you explain what's been going on

he just listens to you rant for a solid 20 minutes

he's just nodding along, agreeing when needed

when you're done, you feel as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders

you kissed and thanked him before leaving

harry has no idea what he did but he's glad it worked

♟Ron♟:

LEMME TELL YOU

if there's anyone more oblivious than harry

IT'S THIS BOY RIGHT HERE

probably wouldn't even notice until Hermione or Ginny or sOMeONe wHO iSN'T oBLiViOUs points it out to him

then it all clicks

the distance

the quietness

the fake smiles

it hits him like a tRUCK

he doesn't know what to do at first

then it hits him

what is it that you both love with a passion?

FOOD

asks you to meet him outside your common room

shows up with the invisibility cloak and he leads you to the kitchen

you find a small picnic like space in front of the fireplace with all your favorite snacks

even the ones you adore but he finds absolutely repulsive

you throw your arms around him, a small thank you slipping past your lips

the two of you talk and eat till morning

when breakfast comes, the house elves find you curled up against each other, asleep

📚Hermione📚:

y'all

this girl is probably the only reasonable one

she'll figure it out pretty fast but she'll drop hints that she's knows something's up

SHE WANTS YOU TO COME TO HER

IS PATIENT AS FUCK

when you finally do come to her, it's in a secluded corner of the library

she's doing the extra extra credit

you find her and sit in front of her

THIS GIRL PUTS DOWN HER QULL SO FAST

she tries not to show it but she's freaking out on the inside

you start off with apologizing for your distance and she brushes it off, telling you it's ok

it's silent for a minute

then you RANT

she just sits and listens to your problems

and when your done, she offers reasonable solutions

best girlfriend honestly

🌵Neville🌵:

BABY

BOY

sorry

this boy (like Hermione) would probably pick it up pretty quickly

BUT HE WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

this boy will straight up get frustrated about what to do

should he get you a gift?

but what if you dont like it?

should he ask if you want to talk about it?

but what if you dont want to?

HE'S SCARED

you would notice he becomes very on edge around you

you confront him about it and this boy just spills

your heart swells as he explains that he wanted to do something but didn't want to upset you further

🤧

you start explaining what's going on and he understands completely

the two of you just start talking and end up having a mini therapy session

I HAVE THIS IDEA THAT NEVILLE GIVES REALLY GOOD ADVICE

when you peck his cheek and tell him you would like to do this again sometime, he gets all flustered again

🦁Ginny🦁:

It doesn't matter who you are

YOU CAN'T LIE TO THIS GIRL

"Ginny, I'm fine-"

"I SMELL CAP"

literally will not take any of it

it doesn't matter how many times you tell her

SHE

WON'T

LISTEN

she's not gonna push you but she certainly will not put up with the crap you're giving her

you end up ranting to her after a quidditch match

gryffindor had won against slytherin and of course there was a party

you obviously wanted no part but you let your friends drag you to the gryffindor common room

you sat quietly in the corner until Ginny came and took your hands

you expected her to lead you to the dance floor

but instead she led you to her dorm

she sat you down on the bed and took your hands in hers

"talk to me, (Y/N)"

YOU WERE BOARDER LINE SIMPING FOR THIS WOMAN

but you stayed strong and explained everything

she just listened and rubbed her thumb against your hand

I'M SIMPING FOR SOFT GINNY

when you finished, she smiled and laid with you, pressing soft kisses on your temple

you cuddle till the sun came up

🎆Fred🎆:

I have a mighty fine feeling that this boy is just as stubborn as his sister

"Fred, I'm fine"

"And I'm Filch's favorite student"

thankfully for you, he let up on his pranks so he could spend time with you (much to George's dismay)

he's also really good at making you laugh

it doesn't even have to be a prank

he'll just say or do something stupid and no matter how mad or upset you are

this boy never fails to make you smile

but despite his dorky demeanor

he is SOFT

he took you out to the quidditch pitch one evening to watch the sunset

cliche

i know

BUT YOU LOVE IT

you had been doing slightly better due to Fred's constant jokes

but he was not about to let you go by without explaining what got you so down

he casually brought it up and you knew there was no running away from it now

when you told him about what was bothering you, he cracked the occasional joke but never really tried to derail the conversation

when you finished, he took you in his arms and told you how much he loved you as he pressed soft kisses to your neck

you swore you had never simped harder in your life

🧨George🧨:

this little mastermind

so I have this idea that fred is the one who comes up with the ideas for the pranks but george is one who kinda puts it together

ANYWAY

he'd come up with some weird elaborate plan to make you feel better

it'd probably involve multiple parts and A LOT of glitter

but in the end, you watched in awe as glitter danced around you

(if you don't like glitter it'd probably be water or smth)

you immediately knew George was behind it and you followed the trail of glitter or water

it led you to a hidden passageway and at the end of the tunnel it was no surprise you found George waiting for you

you laughed at his glitter/water covered appearance and helped him clean up

only to get some on you as well

it eventually turned into a full blown war with glitter/water bombs being thrown at every turn

in the end, you two laid out of breath by the shrieking shack

"so are you going to tell me what's been going on or do I have to go commando on your arse again?"

you laughed but explained yourself in the end

just like his twin, George threw in a joke or two but never drew any attention away from what you were saying

when you finished ranting, George took your hand in his and kissed it, making eye contact with you the whole time

"you're a badass, you know that?"

🍏Draco🍏:

ANOTHER PERSON WHO

DOES

NOT

TAKE

SHIT

I'm pretty sure the only reason he caught on so fast is because he does the same thing

ALL

THE

TIME

"(Y/N), are you ok?"

"I'm fine-"

he was dragging you to the room of requirement before you could even finish your sentence

when he opened the doors, you gaped in awe at the small bedroom that lay before you

he led you to the bed and sat your ass down

"Spill"

you tried to convince him you were okay but he still wasn't having it

he even pulled his iconic, "my father will hear about this" line

"dray, your father doesn't give two shits about me."

"Mum does. And you know she'd haul your ass faster than I could"

you knew there was no getting out of this

as you explained your troubles, draco's demeanor kept shifting

when you talked about someone getting on your nerves, he looked ready to murder

when you talked about how little sleep you were going, he went all soft

when you finished, he held out his arms for you

you knew how much Draco despised physical contact sometimes so this was a huge win for you

as you laid together, you felt a small kiss fall upon your head

"If you ever feel like this again, let me know, okay?"

"Just as long as you don't beat anyone up."

"..."

🐍Blaise🐍:

Sarcastic little shit

I love him

ANYWAY

this boy is SO OBSERVANT

you literally can't get anything past him

so it's really no surprise to you when he calls you out on how you're acting

you brush him off but this boy is so ambitious

he watches closely how you wince when someone is too loud or how often your eyelids droop

so because of his dedication to you, he comes up with a brilliant plan

it starts out with you meeting him after classes are done for the week

he takes you to the library where you finish up your homework for the weekend (he gives most of the answers)

when you're done, he leads you back to your common room and tell you he has a suprise for you tomorrow

when breakfast comes around, a letter is dropped in front of you and your smile grew as you read the familiar handwriting

Following the instructions in the letter, you came down to lunch dressed up slightly

during the midday meal, Blaise is no where to be seen

but before you can look for him, Malfoy approaches you and leads you to the great lake

you jaw drops as you take in the small picnic set up before you

Malfoy leaves as Blaise appears out of nowhere in a nice black button down and black slacks

he leads you to the blanket set out and hands your flowers

"(Y/N), you know I'm not good with emotions but I wanted to show you that I cared. I might now be able to understand but I can still listen."

so that's what he did

he listened to you talk for almost an hour as you went from ranting about your troubles to rambling about your favorite things

you somehow found yourself with your head in his lap, hands waving around as you explained the way airplanes worked

he just sat, admiring you

and he just listened

🦡Cedric🦡:

He lives because I said so

ANYWAY

this boy is literally one of the softest human beings on the earth

you better believe he can see right through your little charade

so what does he do?

he does ever little thing that's ever made you happy

doesn't matter how big or small

he's just looking to make you smile

because it hurts his heart to see you upset

will literally show up outside your class with one of your favorite snacks in his hands

or will hand you your essay completely finished so you can spend time sleeping instead of writing

doesn't matter what it is

this boy LIVES for you

so one day you're having a particularly rough day and you find yourself waiting outside Cedric's class

when he spots you, he immediately ditches his friends and makes his way over to you

the bags under your eyes are evident and anyone could tell from a mile away that your literally on the verge of exhaustion

Cedric takes your hands and leads you to the prefects' bathroom

he leaves you to do your thing, promising he'd be there when you finished

when you were done, the two of you made your way to his dorm and you laid together

you started talking out of the blue and Cedric being the admiral man he is

listened

when you finished ranting, you realized you had gotten up and started pacing about halfway through

you groaned and put your face in your hands as you sat back down

Cedric was not having it

he pried your hands of your face and littered it in kisses instead, a message of encouragement in between each one

you're so kind

kiss

you're smart

kiss

you're crazy good at transfiguration

kiss

you make me happy

kiss

I love you

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

74 notes · View notes

earliebirb · 5 years ago

Note

thank you so much for your fill for my prompt, that was so lovely!! 💕💕 not to overwhelm you, but since you reblogged that prompt list yesterday, stevetony + 16 or 47 if you want? 😊

Thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took me a while to finish this because 1) school, and 2) for some reason, this got way out of control and ended up being 4.5k words.

(I also ended up incorporating both 16 and 47 from the prompt list into the story. I hope you don’t mind!)

Sorry if the fic is too long for your liking! Also, don’t worry about overwhelming me. For some reason, getting fic requests like this really gets my creative juices flowing. :)

Without further ado, here it is! I hope you like it!

come build a home out of me

steve/tony, au: college, fake dating, getting together, 4527 words

(16 and 47 from this list)

The first thing Steve sees when he walks into the apartment is Tony, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, staring hard at something on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony looks up at the sound of Steve’s voice, having been so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice Steve coming into the apartment.

“Oh, it’s just—” Tony shrugs, gesturing to the thing on the coffee table. As Steve nears the table, he notices that it’s an envelope. Steve looks at Tony in question.

Tony sighs. “It’s a wedding invite.”

“Someone you know getting married?”

Tony worries at his bottom lip. After a beat, he answers: “It’s my ex, Monica. She’s getting married.”

“Oh.” Steve inhales, trying to gauge the situation. Steve remembers him talking about Monica, the one girl he dated all throughout high school during one of their late night talks Steve is very fond of. They used to have late night talks that last until the early hours of the morning, until they struggle to stay up while lying in their respective beds situated at opposite ends of the small dorm room they had shared during the first two years of college before they decided to move into an apartment off-campus.

Of course, living in an apartment is a lot more comfortable than living in a cramped college dorm room. There is more privacy, for one. Sometimes, though, he misses having Tony’s face be the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep and the first thing he sees when he wakes up, always just a few feet away from him.

“Yeah.�� Tony sighs again, clearly perturbed.

“Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know. If I don’t go, people are definitely going to talk. If I go alone, people are also still going to talk. Everyone knows she’s the one who dumped me after all, not the other way around.”

Oh, yes. Steve knows that, too. Tony has told him about how Monica had dumped him on the night of prom and how very public and humiliating and depressing the whole ordeal was. Steve remembers the way he had felt irrationally annoyed at Monica, this girl that he didn’t even know personally, thinking about how dumb she must be for breaking up with Tony, because if Steve were ever granted the blessing to have those beautiful Bambi eyes looking at him and only him?

Well.

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

Tony’s eyes linger on him, like he is still trying to make sense of the utter nonsense that has come out of Steve’s mouth.

Thankfully, Steve’s brain suddenly decides to come back online. Coming back to his senses, Steve opens his mouth to retract all of his ridiculous suggestions, when—

“Okay.” Tony nods.

Steve’s mouth snaps shut. Tony looks at him, expression unreadable.

“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Steve.” Tony stands up, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s this Saturday. Prepare a tux.”

With that, Tony enters his bedroom, leaving Steve sitting on the couch, stunned, dumbfounded, and wondering what mess he has gotten himself into.

The night of the wedding rolls around and the next thing Steve knows, he is standing in the middle of the wedding reception beside Tony, who looks absolutely stunning in his classic black suit.

They have come up with a simple background story on how they became a couple, just to make sure they are on the same page. They met because they were roommates in college (which is the truth) and they dated two months into knowing each other (which is not the truth, no matter how much Steve’s traitorous heart wished it was). The rest of the details, they figured, wouldn’t matter as much since they just have to keep up this charade for the night.

Steve is determined not to let Tony down. He has offered himself to be Tony’s fake boyfriend for the night, and he is going to deliver, goddammit. He is going to be the best fake boyfriend the world has ever seen, especially in front of Tony’s ex-girlfriend.

It all goes on fairly smoothly. Throughout the night, Steve has kept a respectful hand on the small of Tony’s back. Little touches here and there, completely immersed in the role of the doting boyfriend. And if his heart clenches just a little bit every time Tony welcomes his touches so naturally and even initiates some of his own? Well, no one needs to know.

The DJ plays something slow and gentle as the lighting dims in the ballroom. Steve sees couples all around the room step onto the dance floor, swaying along to the crooning of a popular love song.

“May I have this dance?” Steve offers his hand to Tony, holding his breath as Tony looks up at him.

Tony smiles, something soft dancing in his eyes as he accepts Steve’s hand.

They walk to the dance floor. Tony loops his hands around Steve’s neck and Steve’s hands settle comfortably on Tony’s waist.

Tony’s eyes remain trained on him throughout the dance, looking up at him from under long dark lashes, slightly obscured by his unruly brown curls. Steve reaches up to gently brush the curls aside, just so he can look at Tony a little bit better. Tony blinks as Steve touches his hair and Steve feels the flutter of Tony’s lashes tickling his skin, the movement bringing a smile to his lips. Something warm runs through his veins and he feels a lightness settle beneath his bones as they sway on the dance floor. Steve wonders what it would be like to really have this, to be able to hold Tony in his arms whenever he wants to, to have Tony smiling at him like Steve is his entire universe.

Tony licks his lips and Steve’s gaze falls on them. He thinks of how temporary this is—this dream he loathes to wake up from—and something breaks a little within him. He closes his eyes instead, rests his forehead against Tony’s, and lets himself drown in the moment. Resolutely ignoring all logic and reality, he lets himself savor the fantasy, the privilege of having Tony as his for the night.

When the song ends, Steve forces himself to pull away from Tony. It’s almost physically painful.

“I’ll get us something to drink?” Steve asks and Tony nods. Steve turns to head towards the bar, when Tony’s fingers catch his wrist.

Steve turns around to look questioningly at him. Tony takes a deep breath and swallows, squeezing his wrist gently. It might just be Steve’s imagination, but Steve thinks he sees something akin to sorrow bleed into his eyes. When Tony smiles, for some reason it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t go too far,” Tony says, his voice unusually rough. Having Tony look at him like that makes Steve feel like someone has tied a knot around his heart and pulled.

He doesn’t know what came over him, but he finds his feet bringing him closer to Tony. He leans close to plant a soft and reverent kiss on Tony’s temple. He thinks he hears Tony’s breath hitching, but that might also have been his own.

“I won’t,” Steve promises, before really pulling away from Tony this time.

When he reaches the bar, he asks the bartender to make his drink extra strong before burying his face in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Tony is really doing an excellent job at this whole fake dating thing. Steve, on the other hand, feels like he needs to lock himself in a room and scream. He really dug his own grave when he suggested this to Tony, didn’t he?

When Steve finds Tony again, drinks in his hands, he notices a commotion a short distance away and realizes, with a sharp intake of breath, that the bride and groom are making the rounds. His heartbeat starts ringing in his ears when he realizes Monica and her groom—Jeff, his memory supplies—are heading towards Tony and him. He attempts to quell his nerves by taking a few sips of his drink before setting the two glasses down at a nearby table.

“Oh my gosh. Tony? I’m so glad you made it!” Monica shrieks, excited. She hugs Tony, planting a kiss on his cheek. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How have you been?”

“Congratulations, Monica, Jeff.” Tony smiles. “I’m doing fine. Uh, this is—”

Tony hesitates visibly and Steve steels himself before flashing the bride and groom his brightest smile.

“Hi. I’m Steve, Tony’s boyfriend. Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Thank you. Oh, wow. Look at you! How long have you guys been together?”

“Almost three years now,” Steve replies with contrived ease, a stab of longing shooting through him.

“God, you’re so lucky, Tony. He’s a looker.” Monica nudges Tony with a wink.

Steve smiles and curls an arm around Tony’s waist. He looks down at Tony and finds Tony already looking up at him. “Not really,” he says and feels his lips curl into an involuntary smile as he looks into Tony’s eyes, “I’m definitely the lucky one.” It’s the truth. Some days, Steve feels amazed at his own luck, thanking the universe for leading him to Tony, letting him have the privilege of even knowing Tony, albeit just as a friend.

Steve turns back to Monica. This time, the words roll off his tongue easily, having been pulled from the innermost recesses of his heart: “He’s beautiful, brilliant in spades, and the most kind-hearted person I know.”

“Aw, you guys are so cute together!” Monica gushes appreciatively.

“Is marriage on the cards? Are we going to be hearing wedding bells soon?” Jeff teases goodnaturedly.

Steve laughs. “Well, who knows what the future holds. But if I like it, I have to put a ring on it, right?”

Monica and Jeff laugh along, saying something about waiting for a wedding invitation in their mailbox sometime in the future.

Steve looks down at Tony, looking for approval, and feels his own smile drop when he sees the look on Tony’s face. He looks—and Steve can’t think of any other way to put it—sick.

“Darling, are you okay?” Steve asks with genuine concern. He doesn’t know where the term of endearment has come from but he doesn’t worry too much about it, especially with Monica and Jeff standing right in front of them.

Tony physically removes Steve’s arm from his waist, stepping back with a smile that looks more like a grimace. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I need to excuse myself. Don’t mind me, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve watches as Tony leaves almost immediately, heading towards the general direction of the restroom. Steve feels cold all of sudden, his heart sinking rapidly with dread. He can’t shake off the feeling that something is terribly wrong.

When he turns back to Monica and Jeff, they are looking at him with concern, clearly noticing the way he can’t seem to stop staring after Tony worriedly.

“You should probably go check on him,” Jeff says with a sympathetic smile.

“I— Yeah. I’m so sorry. I probably should,” Steve takes the time to apologize, even though he already feels frantic with the desperate need to go after Tony.

“Don’t worry about it. We can always continue our talk later,” Jeff pats his shoulder and with that, Steve runs to the men’s restroom.

When he bursts through the door, he sees Tony standing in front of the sink, bending over it, hands braced on the marble countertop. Steve draws closer and notices that Tony’s face is wet, a droplet of water hanging from the tip of his nose, the messy brown curls of his hair clinging to his forehead. His black tie is haphazardly loose, like he just pulled on it because he had felt suffocated.

“Tony, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Steve places a hand on his shoulder. Tony closes his eyes, drawing in a long breath like he’s in pain.

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re clearly not fine. Are you feeling sick?” Steve gently turns Tony’s body to face him so he can get a better look at him.

Steve fishes out a handkerchief from his pocket—something Tony always likes to make fun of, calling him old and “an actual grandpa”—and begins dabbing at Tony’s wet face with it, letting the fabric absorb the water. He makes sure to be thorough, drying the skin near his hairline and down to his neck, where the water droplets have travelled down to soak the collar of his white dress shirt.

All the while, he feels Tony’s gaze on him like a hot brand on his skin.

When he pulls back to examine his work, Tony is still looking at him with something inexplicably heavy in his eyes. He’s looking at Steve like Steve is the most difficult and impossible mathematical problem Tony has ever had to solve and Steve feels oddly overwhelmed. Tony looks pale and nauseous and something is definitely wrong.

“Tony, what’s wrong?”

Tony shakes his head and closes his eyes.

“I can’t do this, Steve.”

“Do what?”

“This whole… fake dating thing.”

Oh. Steve feels something cold settle in the pit of his stomach. His mouth suddenly feels too dry.

“Was it something I did?” Steve asks as he tries to figure out what went wrong.

Tony stays silent. Steve’s brain is still hard at work, working through the events of the night, sorting through moment after moment, looking for something that could have tipped other people off on the real truth of their relationship, but he can’t seem to find anything.

“I think we did okay. People are buying the idea of us as a couple, don’t you think? Did I do something wrong?” He asks again, confused.

Tony lets out a sharp breath at that, his eyes still closed.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat. “I did something wrong, didn’t I? Tell me, what did I do?”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this,” Tony says softly, before pushing him aside and practically running out of the restroom.

It all happens so quickly that Steve’s brain struggles to catch up. When Steve processes what has happened, he runs out of the restroom and catches a glimpse of Tony running towards the staircase leading down to the hotel lobby.

Eventually, Steve’s long legs allow him to catch up to Tony outside of the hotel, just a short distance away from the hotel’s entrance. His fingers are gripping Tony’s wrist tightly, bringing both of them to a stop on the curb. Both of them are panting heavily and Tony is still not looking at Steve, his body freezing mid-stride.

“Tony,” Steve pants, “what the hell is going on?”

Tony’s wrist begins to struggle against Steve’s grip, trying to pull away.

“Steve, please just let me go. I can’t do this right now.”

Steve shakes his head, infusing every bit of frustration and confusion into his words as he asks, “Do what? I did something wrong, didn’t I? What is it, Tony?”

Tony finally turns around to look at him with cold and steely eyes. He looks like he just swallowed something bitter when he says, “I’m in love with you.”

All of a sudden, Steve forgets how to breathe.

“And I’m sorry, Steve. I thought I could do it—this whole fake dating thing—but it turned out to be a monumentally bad idea and I can’t— I can’t do this. Having you smile at me like that, look at me like that, touch me so easy and— and affectionate, and calling me beautiful and brilliant and it’s just too much right now, okay? Turns out this whole pretending thing? Having you but not really having you? Turns out it’s too much and, uh, this was a mistake, and you have to let me go because right now I can’t fucking look at you without wanting to throw up. I’m sorry for making things awkward between us. I need some time— away from you. Just— Give me some time and in a few days everything will be back to normal, okay? Goodbye, Steve.”

Tony wrenches his arm successfully away from Steve this time because it seems that somewhere during Tony’s speech Steve’s body has stopped functioning entirely. His brain is struggling to make sense of all of this because none of it makes sense.

By the time Steve comes to his senses, Tony is long gone.

That night, Steve comes home to an empty apartment.

Tony doesn’t come back to the apartment the following day. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

Steve hasn’t tried to contact Tony in any way since the incident. His memory of that day is still clear as ever and Steve remembers Tony asking him for space, for some time away from him. So, in spite of everything, despite the fact that he feels Tony’s absence like a lost limb, despite the fact that he’s going out of his mind with worry, he gives Tony what he wants.

Wednesday rolls around. Steve is lying on his bed, reading one of his textbooks for an exam he has next week. None of the information is sticking to his brain, since lately his mind has been fully occupied by a certain brown-eyed man.

He flips to another page mindlessly when he hears the sound of the front door of the apartment opening and closing. He sits up in an instant, heart in his throat. He exits his bedroom so quickly he nearly brains himself on the doorframe, just in time to see Tony setting down a bag of what seems to be Chinese takeout on the kitchen counter. Steve drinks in the sight of him greedily after days of not seeing him, watching Tony with bated breath, afraid that if he were to breathe too loud or create any sudden movements Tony would disappear again.

Tony looks up in surprise at Steve’s sudden appearance before smiling warmly.

“Hey there, I brought sustenance. Hope you haven’t eaten dinner yet.” His voice is light and friendly. He gestures towards the bag of food. He is behaving as if nothing happened at all, like what happened on Saturday night is all a fever dream.

“Where have you been? I was worried,” Steve asks. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Tony draws a loose circle in the air with his index finger pointed upwards.

“Just, you know. Around.”

Even through his light and friendly facade, there is something in the way Tony holds himself that feels too much like he has just finished patching up a raw and open wound, like a man being too careful and conscious of every movement that he makes, afraid that the stitches holding him together would rip open any second. He is walking on eggshells in his own home, around Steve, and Steve can’t stand it.

Steve watches quietly as Tony pours himself a glass of water.

Just as he is about to bring the glass to his lips, Steve blurts out the one thing burgeoning within him, the truth that he can no longer contain in his chest ever since he found himself standing alone on the curb on a cold Saturday night:

“I love you.”

Tony freezes, his whole body suddenly rigid with tension. Tony stares wordlessly at the glass of water that is already halfway to his mouth for a few heartbeats, before sighing deeply and setting it down on the counter.

“Steve, you can’t just— You can’t just say things like that,” Tony says, lips curling into a tight-lipped smile, still not looking at Steve. He shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “You’re too nice for your own good, sometimes. You can’t just say things like that just because you feel bad. People are going to think you’re being serious. Be careful with that,” Tony advises, the tone of his voice drenched in wry humor. All the while, he is still talking to the kitchen counter, not sparing Steve a single glance.

“But I do mean it,” Steve protests, some of his nerves falling away to give way for indignation.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, too. Best friends forever and all that, right?” Tony rolls his eyes, moving again to drink the water.

“Tony.”

Tony finally drinks his glass of water, tilting his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp. Steve stares at the smooth expanse of his neck and is overcome with an inundating wave of want.

Tony sets the empty glass of water on the counter. He stares down quietly at the glass for a few moments before taking a deep breath and turning to face Steve with a smile, the kind of too-bright smile Tony flashes to people he doesn’t know very well.

“I’m going to go shower. Rhodey’s shower gel is nice, but I kinda miss my coconut-scented one.” He is still smiling that too-wide smile.

Tony moves to walk pass Steve but as he is walking by Steve catches his wrist. It’s too reminiscent of the way Steve had stopped Tony on the curb a few days ago and Steve’s heart aches. This time, however, Tony and Steve are facing opposite directions, the only point of contact being Steve’s grip on Tony’s wrist.

From where his thumb rests on Tony’s skin, he can feel the silent staccato of Tony’s racing pulse.

“Tony,” Steve pleads, voice low.

“Steve, let me go.” Tony’s voice is cold, all the warmth from earlier gone in an instant.

“Not until you listen to me.”

Tony scoffs. “Stop mocking me, will you?”

“I love you.”

“Don’t do this, Steve.” Tony’s voice drops even lower with warning.

“Tony—”

“Let me go or I’ll fucking punch you—”

“I am in love with you.”

“Steve, please—”

In a swift motion, Steve yanks at Tony’s wrist so Tony is forced to step backwards and become face-to-face with Steve. Tony looks up at him with shock and then Steve is grabbing him by the shoulders and backing him up against the nearest wall.

Eyes looking straight into Tony’s startled ones, feeling surer about this than he’s ever been about anything in his life, Steve enunciates his words clearly:

“Anthony Edward Stark, I am in love with you.”

Whatever Tony sees in Steve’s eyes must speak some degree of truth because instead of fighting Steve back, Tony falls silent.

Steve doesn’t know how he finds the words, but once he starts he can’t seem to stop.

“Not just the best friend kind, even though you are also my best friend, but more of the— The kind that makes me want to punch something when you flirt so openly with other people. The kind that makes me want to hoard you all to myself. The kind that makes me wonder if something’s wrong with me, because I’m not usually the jealous type.”

Steve draws closer, gaze falling down to Tony’s chapped lips.

“The kind that makes me wonder about what your lips taste like.”

Steve is so close he can count Tony’s eyelashes. He marvels at the way the shade of brown of Tony’s eyes turns lighter when they catch the soft yellow glow of the living room lights.

“I’ve been in love with you for years.” Steve can’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with Tony. Maybe it was some time during one of their late night talks, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Maybe it was during one of the times Steve has had to tuck tired or drunk Tony in bed, his heart fluttering helplessly at the way Tony seems to cling to his arm just moments before falling asleep. Maybe it was during one of the times Tony took care of him when he had a bad day, settling comfortably beside him on the couch for a marathon of feel-good movies, or massaging Steve’s scalp soothingly as Steve vented to him about his problems.

Maybe his heart had already been stolen by Tony ever since he stepped into his new dorm room at college for the first time and was greeted by the sight of his roommate lying upside down on the bed he had claimed for himself before Steve arrived, waving at him with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

Tony blinks at him quietly, utterly stunned.

“I love you. I’ll say it as many times as you want. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

And then, because Tony continues to say nothing:

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love—“

“Okay,” Tony says breathlessly, covering Steve’s mouth with his hand, “I believe you.”

Steve smiles down at him, warm and pleased, fierce adoration taking over him. He kisses the hand covering his lips, just to further prove his point. To Steve’s delight, Tony yelps and pulls his hand away, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink. Steve catches his hand and brings it down, intertwining their fingers together. He wonders how low the blush travels.

“Okay. Can I kiss you now?”

Tony contemplates Steve’s lips with the wonder of someone stuck in a trance. He swallows, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from Steve’s mouth.

“Sure.”

Steve closes the distance between them. He kisses Tony slow and sweet, savoring every drag of their lips. The way Tony kisses back just as fervently, gives as good as he gets, sends something pleasantly hot and heady coiling in his stomach, the warmth slowly travelling throughout his body until his skin feels like it’s burning wherever Tony touches him.

They break apart eventually, panting for air, just standing there with their foreheads touching.

“So,” Steve whispers, “you were saying something about a shower?”

Tony’s eyes widen and turn dark with desire, even as he barks out a surprised laugh.

Steve grins and leans in to steal another kiss, just because he can, just because Tony looks so beautiful when he laughs and it’s been too long since Steve last saw him.

Tony indulges him, lets him steal more than one kiss.

Eventually, they end up in Tony’s bedroom instead of the bathroom, but Steve figures Tony deserves that much for their first time.

After all, Steve thinks, as he kisses his way down Tony’s neck with Tony’s fingers planted in his hair, there will always be a next time.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #user: ishipallthings

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guardianoffandoms · 4 years ago

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Here’s my gift for @voxymoxyboxy for the Sam and Max secret Santa! I hope that you like it!

SHOCK, CRACKLE, POPPERS!

Summary: After Sam and Max escape the pit of hell using Santa’s sleigh, The Soda Poppers decide to trap them in a way they can’t escape!

A chill runs through the main office of hell. Said office had always been about 2 degrees above comfortable because it is hell, after all. Our Dubious Duo, Sam and Max, have escaped the pit of hell and are working on a plan to put the Poppers in their place! However, that plan isn't exactly panning out.

Sam had been in the process of creating a cake so he could trick the Soda Poppers into sending themselves into the pit. This plan had one flaw, the Soda Poppers, while they are annoying, and pesky, and a pain in the ass, they are also remarkably perceptive when someone wants to hurt them. Case in point, when Sam was creating the cake, Peepers realized that he was up to something and quickly alerted his brothers. Together they trapped our duo in cages deep below hell, to wither and suffer for all eternity.

“SAM! THE WRITER IS TRYING TO BE EDGY!” Max whines before Sam interrupts.

“Quiet onion-head, you can break the fourth wall later! Right now we gotta get out of here!”

Sam looks around the room, assessing the situation. He and Max were trapped in cages suspended above apparently bottomless chasms, connected only by brick pathways that had an elevator at one end and an endless number of more cages at the other. Sam scratches at his neck only to discover a collar wrapped around his neck. After a moment or two of trying to pry it off, Sam shrugs and decides to ignore it for the moment.

“Well nice to know interior decorators go to heaven.” Max deadpans.

“Hey Max! Look up there!” Sam exclaims, pointing at a speaker resting atop the elevator.

After a few moments, the speaker screeches to life. They quickly wished it stayed off.

“Hello, Sam and Max!” Specs’ voice rings out. “And welcome to your permanent resting place! We have trapped you in- Hey! Move it!” “No Specs! You can't hog the Announcer of Doom!” they hear Whizzer wine

“Yes I can! I called dibs!”

“Max, I found our personal hell,”

“Being forced to listen to their nasally, annoying, prepubescent complaining for the rest of eternity?”

“I was going to say reruns of care bears but yeah that too.”

“ENOUGH! Sam and Max, for getting in our way we created a perfect trap! One where Sam can't talk or Rube Goldberg his way out! And Max, you can escape, but you have to leave Sam behind! Try to free him, and Sam will pay the price! HAHAH-” The speaker cuts off before Peepers finishes laughing, leaving our duo confused by his warning. Well, one confused and the other concerned.

After a few moments, Sam and Max’s gazes move from the speaker to each other.

“Well that was ominous.” Sam grimaces.

“Yeah, but come on Sam, it's the Soda Poppers! Those pint-sized halfwits couldn't work a mousetrap! Let's get the hell outta hell!” Max exclaims, pulling himself up on the bars of his cage for effect. His show of confidence working wonders on Sam, his grimace turning back into his trademark smile. “You’re right little buddy! Now let's get you out first since apparently you can escape without me, so your cage must be faulty in some way!” Sam exclaims as he looks over Max's cage.

Sam quickly notices that Max's cage is closed by a padlock and chain. “Alright max! All you gotta do is undo the lock. If you got a paperclip this would be a gre-” Sam is cut off by a loud crunch and the bang of the padlock hitting the ground. “Well Sam, while a paper clip would have worked, my jaw needed the exercise!” Max remarks as his cage door swings open and he wanders over to Sam. “You’re a menace to biology little buddy.”

Their jovial attitude was short lived, the closer Max got the more static seemed to build around Sam's neck. “Max, don't touCH TH-!” Sam's plea quickly turned into a pained whine when Max touched the cage. At the noise, Max stumbles back and the speaker crackles to life once more.

“Uh oh! Looks like you found out our plan!” Whizzers voice screeches out. “If you touch Sam's cage, he gets ZAPPED! If he tries to help you free himself, ZAP! No talking, no ideas, no planning!” The reality of the situation starts to set in, and Max was ready to behead three child stars. “Have fun with your cage! Bye-bye!”

The speaker goes quiet, and so do our heroes.

Sam lifts himself up from his fallen position to gaze at Max. He couldn't get out alone, and nobody could read him better than Max. Meanwhile, Max is shivering. Not from hell's new climate, but shivering with rage. He whips around to Sam and sharply grins. “Alright Sam, what's the plan? Because I got two paws, a gun, and the will to make murder a felony in hell.”

Sam smirks at the lagomorph before standing up and observing the lock on his cage. It was a simple lock and chain, same as Max’s. However, Sam did not possess Max’s biting force nor his probably illegal teeth, so they’d have to improvise. He motioned towards the lock and did a hand gesture for a gun. Max quickly understood Sam's bad charades and pulled out his gun to shoot the lock. Before he could pull the trigger, Sam falls to the ground, electricity flooding his body. After a few moments, the shocks stop and Sam lays on the floor catching his breath.

“We got a plan B, Sam? Because as much as I love hearing your pathetic whining, the fact that I'm not causing it kinda sours the enjoyment, ya know?” While his banter was playful, Sam could see the anger building in Max. Satan help the Soda Poppers, because not even god can save them now. Leaning against the side of his cage, Sam holds up his pointer finger and gives Max a wink. A look of realization crosses the lagomorphs face, followed by a grin that he quickly covers with a look of pure grief.

“Sam. Sam, come on. You can't give up that easy! You never give up that easy!” Max exclaimes gesturing around him. ”Come on Sam, we made it to hell! We can make it out, Sam! SAM!” as he spoke, Max started to cry.

“Sam we’ve known each other forever! You can't just give up!” Max looks at Sam,and Sam nods before taking off his hat. Max gazes at the hat a moment before- “FINE THEN! THEN THIS IS THE END SAM! HAVE A NICE AFTERLIFE!” Max yells before storming towards the elevator.

Meanwhile, the Soda Poppers are watching this play out from the main office of hell. A few moments after Max stalks towards the elevator, the camera feed cuts out, leading the Poppers to believe that Max was leaving without Sam. The elevator rises, its doors opening to reveal Max, looking sullen and angry. As the elevator doors close, Max turns to the Poppers.

“Well well well, it looks like the freelance police are over!” Specs proclaims joyfully. Max grimaces and responds, “yeah, turns out Sam wants to do this on his own. Has a whole plan that I'm apparently not smart enough to comprehend so whatever. I've got a wedding to officiate anyway.” Max mutters walking to hell's kitchen next to hell's meeting room. Opening the fridge max pulls out an odd looking concoction, resembling a cake with a bright red candle.

As Max walked back to the Poppers, he shoots the bell at the top of the ice cream truck now parked inside the office. The bell ringing causes Specs to close his book and now all that needed to happen was the Soda Poppers blowing out their candle.

“Hey Whizzer.” Max spoke casually. “Mind showing me your new trick again? I couldn't see it last time because Sam was in the way.” “Of course I can! Or my name isn't Whizz-rael the Tormentor!” Max pulls out the cake so the fire lights the candle. At the sight the Poppers jump for joy. “Aww! You remembered!” “Yep, I sure did, wouldn't miss your birthday for anything!”

As always, the word ‘birthday’ makes the mariachi band show up. And as they finish their song, the soda poppers blow out the candle. Sending them straight into the pit. “CURSE YOU SAM AND MAX!” their voices cry, growing fainter the further they fall. As the portal closes, the elevator opens again, revealing Sam!

Max smiles, running over to Sam. “TA-DA! Another case closed, another set of lives ruined! I say we head home and eat junk food till the cows come home! What do ya think, Sam?” Sam grins at Max’s antics before pointing to the collar still affixed to his neck. Max pauses. “Oooh, right, kinda forgot about that.” He jumps up on Sam's back and grabs the collar before snapping it with his teeth. Sam pulls the remaining metal off, rubs his neck and turns to Max. “Thanks Max, another minute in that thing and I'd have pulled a Cujo!”

“You mean go feral and kill helpless civilians? Sounds like fun! Can we? Can we please?” Max pleads, his smile too wide to appear anything but dangerous. “Sorry little buddy but you gotta wedding to officiate and I've gotta reload my gun.” Sam remarks, walking towards the exit. “Yeah, you’d think the Soda Poppers woulda taken that but eh, made it easy for you to shoot your way out.” Max replies, walking instep with Sam. “Yep, now let's get outta hell before beelze-bub eats all the hors d'oeuvres.”

#sam and max: ss2020 #telltale sam and max #sam and max freelance police #sam and max #set in 2:05 #soda poppers

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 5 years ago

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The Distraction (Inglourious Basterds Imagine/Fem!Reader)

Requested by @perawuat

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

___________ You were pacing around in the abandoned inn across the way from the tavern. You weren't worried at all about Operation Kino until Aldo pointed out that fighting in a basement was a terrible idea. You also weren't thrilled when Aldo decided you couldn't go with Hugo and Wicki. For a moment, he was worried you'd do something stupid.

Wicki and Hugo were your best friends, after all, but at the end of the day, you were soldiers. Still, you'd begged to be there with them, but Aldo just couldn't risk losing all his German speaking basterds at once.

The boys' speculations weren't making things any better. "What if Wicki was right? What if she ain't even in there?" Utivich was the only one trying to stay positive, though you could tell he didn't even believe what he was saying. "N-no...she's gotta be." You looked out the window, and muttered, "That's what I'm worried about..." Hirschberg looked around with his eyebrow raised, "Hugo seemed eager to use that knife, didn't he?" Omar frowned, "Did he?" Donny shrugged, "Who cares, we can never tell with him anyway." You rolled your eyes. Smitty said, "Well, he seemed calm enough." You sat down, and it kind of relieved Aldo. But you weren't. You knew Hugo. That man hadn't been calm since 1936.

You were just kids then. You were what? Sixteen, maybe seventeen years old when the whole world around you turned upside down. But...Smitty had a point. Relatively speaking, Hugo was calm at the moment. "That tommy's right...They can handle themselves." Donny chuckled, "You're kiddin' yourself. They're all outta their goddamn minds." "Y/n." You looked up. You'd been too quiet for Aldo's liking. You usually had an opinion or two, and he was worried that you hadn't said a word. Usually, you kept your head in the worst of it. When there were shellings, or air raids, you were the one that held them together. But, when worse came to worse, you were also known to be one of the more ruthless basterds. When the boys lost Michael, Simon, and Andy, you went on a sort of rampage. Needless to say, you'd paid off your debt to Aldo long ago. "Where the hell you think you're goin' private?" You had that look on your face. The same look in your eyes as when you wanted revenge for the three lost basterds. "To get a drink." You pushed past them, and looked in front of a dust covered, cracked mirror. They all recognized that look. That insatiable, basterdized grin. Those vengeful eyes blinded by the whims of Nemesis. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" You smirked, as you undid the top button of your shirt, and sighed, in a mocking lament, "Boys are the same on any side of war."

Donny sat up slowly from the creaking bed. "Wh..what?"

You turned to meet Aldo's stern gaze, and the privates' confusion. You gestured to Donny's gaping eyes and mouth, and you grinned, "See?" Aldo rolled his eyes, "This ain't gon' work, Y/n." "You're right." You undid two buttons. And you walked to a dust covered desk, and picked up Wicki's pack of cigarettes. Knowing if you escaped at all, it would be quick, and he'd be pissed without them. You knew the only thing to help Wicki keep his head was a cigarette.

You took another step closer to the door, and the basterds were too awed and shocked to say anything. They knew you, and they knew Hugo and Wicki were like your brothers. You'd be damned if a botched rendezvous was how they went out. And without you? You wouldn't give the nazis that satisfaction. You smirked as you packed away the cigarettes in your pocket. Aldo stood directly in front of you, with his hands at his hips. He could order you to stay. There were two outcomes to that. One, you'd stay, and....worst case scenario, you'd silenly hold resentment against your lieutenant for the rest of your life. Two, you'd disobey direct orders and whatever happened after, be it a victory or defeat, would go down in history. Aldo knew you. You knew there were consequences to disobeying direct orders, but you weren't scared of dishonorable discharge, or being imprisoned. Not when it meant that Hugo and Wicki had a chance. You were halfway out the door when your lieutenant said, "Y/n?" You sighed, and stopped in your tracks, bracing yourself for orders, or even the boys being ordered to pull you back. Aldo smiled a little, "Leave the bat. Don't wanna get more attention than you need, aint that right?" You looked down, seeing Donny's bat in your hands. You'd hardly realized you'd taken it. Frankly, neither did Donny. His mouth was still hanging wide open, and he managed to shake his head, "I didn't even n-" Hirschberg chuckled, "Yeah, we know, big guy."

Aldo nodded, admiring you. He was a lot like you when he was younger. A trouble maker. So, he couldn't in good conscience, let you go out there empty-handed. "Take this with you." He handed his knife over to you, and you took it carefully in your hands, the dim lights creating a bright silver glint. You looked up at him... No other basterd had ever touched his knife. "You make sure you bring that back to me, ya hear?" That was his way of saying he couldn't lose any more basterds, so you'd better be around to give it back to him yourself. You nodded with a slight smirk, and saluted him, "Yes, sir." So you went down what seemed to be endless stairs, and crossed the eerily silent street, with only the muffled, distant tavern chattering, and muted warm lights to guide you over. You stepped into La Louisiane, and walked down the steps. The further you went, the more you understood. By the time you reached the bottom of the steps, and saw a table full of drunken nazis, you thought you understood it all. Then, you turned to find your basterds. One, two, three, four.....five. Five?! You eyes widened, when you saw the British spy beginning to raise his hand with a sign any German would spot a mile away. "Lieblings!" You practically jumped forward, catching him off guard. Archie froze, and never asked for those three drinks. Still, he sputtered, "Y....Y/n?!" There was no time or reason to give you a codename, and...he kind of blew it. Hugo prayed that nazi didn't connect any dots, because at the time of his arrest for thirteen murders, you were interrogated along with him. You knew if they tried to come up with explanations on the spot, they'd all contradict each other, so you did the work for them. "There you are, brother!" You basically chastised Hugo, tutting and shaking your head. And you turned with a smile, "Ah, Bridget! Such a long time! What's it been? Two years? Three?" She was nervous, though she laughed. She was an actress, she could handle some improvisation. With a passive look from Hugo, she understood it was alright. Wicki shut his eyes, and exhaled. Only so many things could go wrong that night, he thought. Losing you was not something that had crossed his mind until that moment, and he was not ready for that possibility. You wedged yourself between Hugo and Dieter, your palms pressed down on the table, as Hugo managed to sincerely utter, "Y/n...what are you doing here?!" "Now, now, you think I'd let my brother have all the fun?" You looked to Dieter, "Especially with such a..." It took everything in your heart to not kill that nazi right then and there, "handsome friend..." You spoke through gritted teeth and a forced smile. Dieter didn't notice. His did notice something else.... His eyes wandered to the top few undone buttons. You then grinned sincerely, because something told you at that moment that you'd be getting one last scalp for Aldo. Dieter shook his head suddenly, "Please sit fraul..." You nodded, with a smile, "Fraulein," guaranteeing him you were untethered. Dieter looked to Hugo and joked, "Ahh keeping secrets from me now Lieutenant?" Hugo mustered a smile, and the others laughed to cover up for him. Dieter turned his full attention to you, "Y/n, right?" You nodded, "Ja..." Dieter held up his drink, and asked you a question. It wasn't the same interrogative tone that he'd taken with the others, but it was something that could blow holes in your cover up. "How is it that you came to find us here?" You tilted your head side to side, with a playful grin, "Rumors go a long way." He laughed, obviously smitten with you, "Secretive like your brother, are you?" You laughed, and took a dig into reality, as you turned to Hugo to quietly reassure him, but also to solidify your cover. "Oh please, I know how to have fun." Dieter's eyes wandered again, and he nodded with a sly grin, "Indeed..." Hugo cleared his throat, and clenched his teeth. Taking on the role of a protective brother came naturally to him because he'd been the protective one for so many years. Case in point, you were both arrested for the murders of the gestapo officers, but he took the fall for you, and convinced everyone that you were innocent. Still, you were a strategist, and always had been. You had played a part in the basterds' rescuing him. And this was now the fourth or fifth time that you were snatching Hugo away from death's door. Hugo muttered, starting to stand, as he gripped your wrist, "Please excuse us, sir. We really must be going or-" You shook your head, knowing it would seem ot hasty. "What?" You tried to liven the mood to distract Dieter again, "Mother'll have a fit? She's in Frankfurt, relax!"

Hugo glared at you, but he'd been doing that since kindergarten, so you glared right back at him.

Wicki sighed, and glancing to the ceiling, praying for patience and a cigarette. He cleared his throat,

"Please excuse our friends, sir. You know how siblings are."

Bridget giggled, encouraging the whole charade. If she didn't know any better, she'd believe you too.

You nodded,

"Yes, please excuse me for my impertinence. I've only been waiting for my brother and our dear friends for four hours."

Dieter shook his head and his hand,

"No, no. This is inexcusable. I apologize for keeping you waiting longer still, fraulein... Go on, officers, I understand why you were in such a hurry now."

You grinned, knowing you had that son of a bitch eating out of the palm of your hand.

After the niceties and the tabs were settled, you hurried out.

Wicki threw his arms around you, "Y/n you've done it again."

Hugo rolled his eyes, "Ja. Nearly got yourself killed."

"Myself? MYSELF?!"

Archie wasn't too pleased, "We were doing perfectly fine, thank you very much, private." "Oh were you, Hicox? When I walked in, you were getting the third degree from that nazi." Wicki sighed, and shook his head, "Y/n..." it was an eased warning to remind you that Archie may not have been a basterd, but he still outranked you. You muttered a quick, "With all due respect." "Private L/n, I'll have you know were were covering our tracks perfectly." You shook your head, out of patience, "This is the German three?" You held up your thumb, middle and index finger. "Because what you were about to do was going to sign your death warrant." You looked to Bridget, because when you walked in, she had a horrified expression because she saw what was about to happen. "Ain't that right, Frau von Hammersmark?" You nodded, "The girl is right, Archie..." Before anything else could be said, you heard something across the street, "Warte!" "Wait!" You sighed, "Oh for fuck's sake..." Dieter wanted to 'talk' to you. You looked to the others, "Go on ahead, lieblings." Hugo and Wicki hesitated, and Dieter chuckled, "Oh come now, boys. I'm sure Y/n is old enough to be left alone for a moment. I'll be honorable." You giggled to hide your seething, and you nodded to them, promising "I'll catch up with you." So, to stop any suspicions, they went ahead, down the street without anywhere in particular to go. As soon as they were out of sight, Dieter lost all sense of 'honor,' and forced a kiss on you.

As soon as Dieter did that, you forced Aldo's knife into his lungs. As soon as the blood flooded in, and he sank to his knees, he couldn't scream for help, he could only look up at you in sheer terror, as everything went black. In a matter of minutes, you found Hugo, Wicki, Archie, and Bridget. She jumped back a little in disgust seeing the mangled, bloody scalp in your hand. Wicki chuckled, though, "That Aldo's knife?" You nodded, "Figured I'd get him a little thank-you gift for letting me borrow it." Hugo took the first relieved breath of the night, and smiled a little. For real, this time, as he said, "I'm sure he'll appreciate that." You crossed your arms, "Told you I'd catch up." Archie nodded, "We'd better start moving, and get to the others before somebody finds....that...." Moving back quickly through the shadows, you collected the basterds, and made an escape. Wicki started patting down his pockets, searching for a cigarette. You held out his pack, though your hand was covered in blood. "D...danke..." He sighed as he wiped the blood off on the stolen uniform, and pulled out a cigarette to ease all the worries of the night. He glanced at you, as he took his first puff, and mused with a smile, "What would we do without you, huh?" As you moved toward Paris, to a little cinema's premiere, you simply laughed, and looked to the basterds, your brothers. "Without me?" You wondered out loud... You didn't want to know the answer to that. What would have happened if you walked in a moment later than you had? You laughed, forgetting about the things that didn't happen, shook your head, and lit a cigarette of your own, "Not on your way to Paris, that's for fuckin' sure."

#Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #Wilhelm Wicki #hugo stiglitz #archie hicox #bridget von hammersmark

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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The Truth Behind the Lie

Summary: Violet shares the secret of why she pretends to be blind with Prisha.

Word Count: 4609

Read on A03:

“Truly a lovely day for a frolic through the countryside,” Prisha noted as she and Clementine walked their horses out of the paddock. The morning air was crisp in their lungs, seeming to hint at the opportunities the rest of the day held. Tragically they would be confined to the tents for most of the day in meetings with Lee and the rest of the leaders of the revolution, strategizing how they would deploy the troops within the next crucial months. For the moment though, they were free to do as they wished and the pair had decided to spend their time taking a morning ride together to celebrate their last few days near New York before they would need to move on.

Clementine nodded happily at Prisha’s words, stepping into the stirrup and lifting herself onto her horse with a light grunt. They were preparing to ride out from camp when they noticed Brody walking in the direction of the paddock. “Brody!” Clementine called with a friendly wave. “Care to join us?”

“Actually, I did come here looking for you, but not to join,” Brody answered, stopping beside Clementine’s horse. “You both have visitors. I bet you can guess who,” Clementine and Prisha shared a look before looking back to Brody who had a playful grin on her face. “That’s right: the Mason siblings. All three of them,”

“Three? They brought Willy to a military encampment?” Prisha asked in disbelief.

Brody nodded. “They said he begged to come along,”

“We’d better go meet them,” Clementine turned her horse away from the open fields to the camp. “They’re by the main entrance?”

“That’s right. Have fun you two – gotta make the moments count before we head out from here,” Brody teased.

Neither of them bothered to answer as they rode off. There was no point trying to deny the infatuation both of them had fallen into with the older Mason siblings. Both had snuck into the city whenever they could spare the time and run into their fellow soldiers more than once while in the company of their respective Mason. Trotting through camp, both Clementine and Prisha couldn’t help but feel excited at this unexpected visit. As they neared the front entrance smiles broke out on their faces at the sight of their visitors.

Louis and Violet were in the midst of an improv game of hopscotch. Lines had been drawn in the dirt and Louis and Willy seemed to be competing for some sort of stakes, jumping excitedly from square to square while Violet’s eyes stared blankly at the ground, a small smile on her face at the sound of her brothers’ merriment. Their attention turned to Clementine and Prisha as the pair approached and they ran up to meet them, pausing just short of running into the horses.

“Clem!” Louis exclaimed, his grin growing as he looked up at her.

“Good to see you, Lou,” Clementine replied, pulling her horse to a stop.

“Violet,” Prisha inclined her head to the blonde lass. “A pleasure as always,”

Violet simply nodded, clearly too flustered to do more.

“And I’m here too!” Willy exclaimed, popping out from behind his big brother. “Are those the horses you guys ride into battle?”

Prisha smiled fondly down at the lad. “In fact they are. I’m happy to say this girl has been with me for two years now, my right hand in every fray,” She gave her horse an affectionate pat, her fingers drifting softly through its black mane.

“Mine’s a bit younger but she’s got enough fire in her to face down all the redcoats herself,” Clementine bragged, pleased when she saw Willy’s eyes widen in wonder.

“Wow! Did you ever get to jump them over anything during battle? Like an exploded crater or a whole line of enemy soldiers?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t overwhelm Clem and Prisha with all these questions, buddy,” Louis said, holding his brother back from stepping even closer to the horses and giving his hair an affectionate ruffle.

“If you’d like, I could actually give a tour of the grounds,” Clementine offered. She loved showing off all that the revolutionary troops had accomplished so far and doing it in front of Louis was an added bonus.

Willy’s eyes practically bugged out of his head at that offer. “For real?” He looked up at his brother, tugging on his arm frantically. “Can we get a tour? Can we, can we, can we?”

“I wasn’t planning to say no,” Louis chuckled, sending a wink Clementine’s way before stepping forward to help her down from her horse.

“Wonderful! We’ll just drop by the pasture first then I can give you the full tour. Prisha, Vi, are you interested too?”

Prisha considered it for a moment before noticing the expression on Violet’s face. Though her eyes were downcast, it was clear at a glance that she was distraught. Continued public attention and the need to continue her blind charade would only aggravate her further. “I believe we shall be turning down the offer, but thank you, Clementine,”

“Alright then. We’ll see you two later,” With that Clementine walked off with Louis and Willy in tow, leaving the pair alone.

Hopping down from her horse, Prisha walked over to Violet and gently took her hand while keeping her other on the reins. “I was thinking a ride through the countryside would be just the thing to brighten my day this morning and I can think of no better company than you. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Y-yeah,” Violet murmured, glancing up at Prisha briefly before her eyes took on a blank glaze once more. She was quiet as Prisha guided her over to her horse, her only noise a small gasp as Prisha took hold of her small waist and helped lift her up onto the back of the saddle.

Climbing up herself, Prisha glanced back at the object of her affections, reaching for her hand once more. “You’ll have to hold onto me to avoid falling off as I plan to move rather quickly. Is that alright?”

“Sure,” Violet’s hands slipped round Prisha ever so softly, her fingers tentatively taking hold of the edges of Prisha’s uniform before tightening.

Prisha felt her heart flutter at the gesture. Clearing her throat, she tried to maintain her decorum. “Alright, here we go,” With a flick of the reins and a light tapping of her heels they were off, riding past the camp and out onto the open fields. Prisha had explored the surrounding area time and time again for both strategy and pleasure. She knew just where she wanted to take Violet: a secluded pond just a mile or two off the road, surrounded by a grove of oak trees that provided plentiful shade on even the hottest days. The ride was too brisk for conversation and Violet still seemed lost in her own thoughts so Prisha focused on getting them there as promptly as possible, relishing the way the wind blew back the wisps from her face as they continued at a gallop.

About a quarter hour later they had reached the grove. Slowing her horse down, Prisha continued at a walk until they reached the pond. Prisha dismounted, looped the reins over the nearest branch then helped Violet dismount as well. Taking Violet’s hand, Prisha slowly led her to the tree closest to the pond, making sure she had comfortably settled against the base of the tree before taking her own seat.

Violet still appeared perturbed; her brows knit together as her mouth pulled down in a frown. It was clear even now that they were alone the reason for her nerves had not gone away. That must mean one thing: she was nervous about saying goodbye. Prisha had been dreading it as well. She had always been able to cut previous romantic ties with ease, citing her career and her calling as reasons she must move on. But in this case, Prisha found herself loath to dust off her usual farewell speech. She didn’t want saying goodbye to Violet to feel rehearsed. It needed to be authentic. Prisha cleared her throat to begin. “Violet, I-”

“Prisha, there’s something I need to say!” Violet spurted out, her eyes widening and falling when she realized she had interrupted Prisha. “Sorry,”

“No, please continue,”

“Prisha, I… I think I should enlist,”

That statement caught Prisha entirely off her guard. “What?”

“I should enlist. All the reasons I had for faking my blindness seem like shit now and I can’t just let all of you leave and stay back like a coward,”

“If this is some ploy to ensure that you end up in the same unit as me, as much as I appreciate the sentiment there’s no way I can ensure-”

“No, it’s nothing like that! Just- just listen, okay?” Violet looked up at her love with a grave expression. Prisha nodded and she continued. “I never told you the story behind why I pretend to be blind. When we first met you called my bluff right away. I was so busy being fucking terrified that you’d tell everybody my secret that I never brought it up. Then when I started, well,” Violet spluttered a bit on her words, cheeks flushing, “When I started falling for you I didn’t want to talk about it either. I was afraid you’d be ashamed of me, of what I had done,” Violet’s eyes were on her hands which were nervously playing with one of the ribbons upon her dress.

Reaching out, Prisha gently took her hand, rubbing her thumb against it. “I could never be ashamed of you,”

Violet’s eyes brightened a bit at that statement before dimming. “Just wait and see. I guess I better tell a bit more about my family for all this to make sense. I bet you figured out that Louis and I aren’t related by blood,”

“A complete shock,” Prisha noted dryly. “But continue,”

“Louis is General Mason’s son. After the first Mrs. Mason died, my mother married his father. She’d already had me and Willy at that point. My father had passed away. I don’t have much to say about him except I’m glad his corpse is floating somewhere at the bottom of the ocean. But yeah, my mom married Louis’ dad and for a couple years everything was good. But then my mom got sick and, well…” Violet let out a shaky breath, “She died too,”

“I’m so sorry, Violet. It sounds as though life hasn’t always been kind to you,”

Violet shrugged, not meeting Prisha’s eyes. “I get by. I have Willy and Lou. That’s all I really need for family,”

“And General Mason?”

“I never liked him. When my mother was still alive he put on an act in front of her of being a caring father whenever he bothered to show up. Most of the time he was away on business trying to get even richer than he already was. But when he was home and my mother wasn’t around, I saw the way he treated Louis: always pushing him, always trying to make him do things he didn’t want to do, be things he never wanted to be. And when Louis didn’t do as he said, he told him he was a disappointment. One time I heard him tell Louis that it was his fault his mother died, that something about how he was born broke something inside her and made her sick for years. Hearing the way he spoke to his own son… I fucking hated him,”

“How did he treat you and Willy? Was it more of the same? If he hurt you…” Prisha paused, uncertain what she would threaten, but she wished to threaten the man.

Violet shook her head. “It was never like that. For some reason, he cared most about excellence in Louis, I think because he was his blood. With me he mostly let me do what I wanted and took me on hunting trips and stuff when Louis ran and hid. He always liked that I was good with a gun. Said I was a born shot. But I didn’t see much of him really. After my mother passed away, he was barely ever home. And then the revolution started, and we never saw him at all. He took Louis with him for a while. They were gone a couple weeks and then all of a sudden Louis was home. I asked him what happened, but he wouldn’t tell me. His father was furious. I heard them fighting one night in the study when he came for a visit. The next day he rode back to rejoin his unit. He doesn’t visit anymore,”

Prisha listened silently, all the while softly stroking Violet’s hand which was clenched tightly round her own. She was glad to learn more of Violet’s life even if it saddened her to hear much of it. “I’m sorry, Violet. You deserve a better father than him,”

“There’s more to tell. We haven’t gotten to the whole blindness scam, remember?” Violet gave a wry, bitter smile, her eyes locked on the still, quiet pond. “Louis had been home for a few weeks. I had gotten sick a little while after he returned since I chased Willy out in the rain to get him inside when he wanted to watch a thunderstorm. He didn’t get sick at all. Figures. I got sicker and sicker. Couldn’t even lift myself out of bed. Felt like I was gonna die. That’s when a letter came, one from General Mason. He said I was to join the 55th regiment and serve under him,”

“He didn’t know you were sick?”

“He hadn’t even bothered to check in. Anyway, I was far too sick to read or answer any letters, so Louis answered it for me. And in that letter, he lied. He wrote that I was gravely ill and that the illness had left me blind,”

“Louis was the one who started the lie?” Prisha asked in disbelief. He didn’t even seem capable of a fib.

“Yeah. I was pissed when I found out what he’d done. I told him the lie was utter shit, that there was no way I was going to pretend to be blind for the rest of my fucking life. I told him he had to write to his father and tell him the truth and if he wouldn’t then I would do it myself. Louis grabbed all the ink, quills and papers and tossed them all out the window, knowing I was still too weak to even make it downstairs. That’s when I snapped. I told him he wasn’t going to make me out to be a fucking coward the same way he had done to himself,” Violet’s shoulders shook a bit as she let out a stuttered breath. “That right there’s the worst thing I’ve ever done,”

“He clearly forgave you,” Prisha gave Violet’s hand a gently squeeze. “Your brother loves you,”

“Yeah, but you can never take words like that back. Those words broke Louis. He started crying and he told me everything: why he was banished from the 55th regiment and why he couldn’t let me join,” Violet paused, flicking a piece of grass from her skirts. “You’ve met General Mason,”

“Yes,”

“People say he gets results,”

“I tend not to approve of his methods,”

“You’d be in the minority then,” Violet sighed. “Louis said that in the weeks he was with the 55th, his father ran the men ragged. Battle after battle, never a moment to rest before marching onto the next conquest. At every battlefield more died than Louis could keep track of, but they’d always win. More troops would be sent for and it would all start again. Lou spoke to his father, asked him why he pushed so hard, said there must be a better way to win our freedom than by sacrificing the lives of all we were trying to save. General Mason replied with some flowery bullshit about the price of liberty and the glory of sacrifice,” Violet scoffed. “I knew all he cared about was power and glory, but I didn’t think he’d kill so freely for it. I was wrong.

Things came to a head between Louis and his father after the last battle Louis fought in. It was a small skirmish, but they managed to capture a handful of redcoats. General Mason believed they had valuable information on the movements of nearby British troops, but they wouldn’t talk. He told Louis to kill one of them as an example to scare the others into being more cooperative. Louis refused. He was sent home the next day. He said that night in the study his father called him an embarrassment and a coward. Just like I did,”

“Louis knows you don’t feel that way,”

“The timing couldn’t have been shittier though. Louis had one more thing to show as well: a letter General Mason had already sent back after he heard I was blind. It was short, just two sentences long. Very well. Do your best to see she is married off respectably and briskly. Now that I was blind, he had no use for me as part of his household. I was a broken tool, just like Louis,” Violet shook her head, her eyes bitter. “Knowing that, I vowed I would never allow him to use me again. He had already thrown me away, so I wasn’t about to risk my life on the battlefield in some sort of sick service toward his glory. So I went along with the charade. I pretended I was blind in front of everyone expect Louis and Willy and that’s been my life for the last few years,”

“Violet,” Prisha’s voice was soft, her expression somber. “Thank you for sharing all of this with me,”

Violet shrugged. “I had to. I couldn’t have you go away and not know the reason I keep up this whole shitty lie. You…” Violet looked down, her voice a mere mumble. “You mean too much to me,”

Prisha felt a rush of emotion shoot through her entire being at those words. She feared her own voice might betray her as she tried to summon the courage to speak. “You mean a great deal to me too, Violet. I admire you immensely, the way in which you carry yourself, strong, confident, not giving a damn what the world might have to say about you. Hearing your story, I understand how you came to be so wondrous just a bit more. And I know I show an ease with flowery language that might make it seem as though I say such things regularly. But believe me when I tell you, Violet Mason, I have never been so enchanted by any other,”

Violet’s eyes were larger than ever at those words. She looked almost frightened for a moment before the spark of Prisha’s words lit something deep within her own eyes. “The things you say about me… I don’t see them in myself. But I want to. And that’s why I want to join the revolution. Back when I decided to take on the lie about my eyes all I knew about the war was that General Mason was invested in it for his own ends and I didn’t want to give him anything. But meeting you and all the other soldiers has made me realize it’s so much more than that. You have a purpose, something bigger than yourselves that you care about. You’re all working together to build the future you hope for. I want the world to be the one you dream it will be. So I want to fight too,”

“Violet,” Prisha cautioned, “This is not a decision to be taken lightly. Your life may very well be forfeit should you take it on,”

“I know. But that’s exactly what all of you are doing each and every day you fight for freedom. General Mason was just bullshitting when he talked about liberty and sacrifice, but with all of you it’s real. I see how passionate Clementine gets when speaking for the war effort. I watch how passionate you are each time you talk about what’s being done here and that someday you’re going to do the same thing for France. If I stay here just because I’m scared of what could happen out there, then I’m the coward. And I don’t want to be. I want to be the version of me I see when I look in your eyes,”

The thought of Violet working side by side with Prisha thrilled her. If Violet joined, then they wouldn’t be parted. They could spend each and every day together, riding horses, running drills, planning for the future. They would have each other’s back in battle and see the beginning of this new nation hand in hand. It was a beautiful, perfect dream… but a dream nonetheless. It only took a moment for Prisha’s expression to wilt as she shook her head. “Violet, everything you said is beautiful, but I think we both know it cannot be,”

Violet’s brows knit in concern. “I know I’d have a lot to learn, but-”

“It’s not that. I’m certain you would be an exceptional fighter. But it’s for that very reason I cannot allow you to join,”

“That doesn’t make any sense,”

“Normally it wouldn’t. But as much as your heart on the matter has changed, your circumstances have not. If you were to join the revolution and perform admirably it would indeed put you side by side with Clementine and I on the battlefield, but only for a moment. Then your father would hear of your achievements and want you fighting by his side instead, as the trophy you were so loath to be. And considering his tactics, your life as that trophy would most likely be short-lived indeed,”

Violet bit her lip, looking aside. She knew what Prisha said was true but the dream was loath to die. “You and Clementine have sway in the army, don’t you? You both work for General Lee – that has to hold weight!”

“It certainly does, but not enough to veto the whims of a general. And should General Mason claim he wished his daughter to fight by his side, Lee would have no choice but to fulfill such a seemingly reasonable request. I admire the drive within you to join us in our cause, but Violet, I will not knowingly endanger your life when the path to its end lies so clearly before us,”

“So what do I do then?” Exasperation and desperation mixed within Violet’s voice. “Continue what I’ve been doing, which is nothing? I can’t keep living like that, Prisha! I won’t let avoiding death at General Mason’s hands mean I don’t live at all!”

“There are other ways to serve, Violet! Join the war effort like Aasim has done! Raise funds, gather supplies, write in support of the revolution! There are plenty of things needed beside soldiers. Smuggle contraband, gather intelligence, but please, I beg of you, lay this idea to rest! As wonderful as it would be to have you by my side, I need you alive. I could not bear to lose you,” Prisha’s hands were shaking as they gripped Violet’s.

The blonde looked up at her soldier in concern. “Prisha,”

“You mean more to me, Violet, than I daresay most anything does on the expanse of the earth. Perhaps some part of me has been holding this back but… I love you, Violet. That’s the long and the short of it,” Prisha’s voice quavered as she said those words, her eyes bright and vulnerable.

“Shit. I- fuck, that’s no way to start,” Violet shook her head slightly as though trying to clear her thoughts before her eyes once more met Prisha’s. “I love you too, Prisha. I think we both just fell into it without either of us really knowing what’s going on, but as crazy as it all makes me feel, I’ve never been happier,”

“Then be mine,” The words had passed Prisha’s lips before she fully realized what they were. Both of them froze, awestruck by the words.

“Yours?” Violet’s tone was barely above a whisper.

Prisha nodded. She had meant those words even if her tongue had outpaced her mind. Taking Violet’s hands, she kissed them before placing them upon her heart. “I want to be with you, Violet. I know for a time that will mean my words are the only thing that will reach you while I myself am a far way off, but my love will be present in each and every phrase. And once this war is over, we can be together again as we are now. Together in the new world that will just have begun,”

A soft smile overtook Violet’s face, her joy abundantly clear. “Prisha, if you want me, I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me,”

“I do want you,” Leaning forward, Prisha captured Violet’s lips in a passionate kiss, the force of it driving Violet’s head against the tree. Violet let out a hiss of pain and Prisha immediately withdrew. “Are you alright? I-”

“Don’t stop,” Cupping Prisha’s face, Violet met her lips again in a deep, lasting kiss. Everything stopped within that moment, the silent ecstasy of the moment crystallizing in that one kiss. It became another and then another, small, longing, stolen kisses till both of them drew the shortest distance apart to catch their breaths, their foreheads still touching.

Prisha found herself lost in the beauty of Violet’s eyes even as she struggled to gather her thoughts. Then one clear memory broke through. The strategy meeting. It would be starting soon. “Violet, we…”

“Have to go. I figured,” Violet nodded softly before closing her eyes and leaning in for one more kiss. “Alright,” She rose to her feet, dusting some stray blades of grass from her petticoat. “Are you busy all day?”

“Throughout the morning. But perhaps in the evening I could call upon you?”

“Supper?”

“It would be my delight to join you for it,”

“Knowing Lou, he probably already invited Clementine. We’ll make a night of it then. Enjoy every moment we have before you go,”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Prisha let her hand brush lightly against Violet’s before taking it. “The faster we return to camp then the sooner I’ll be done with my duties and can see you again,” She led the way back to her horse, unlooping the reins and turning it round. Violet was silent, clearly loath to part after all that had just transpired. Prisha looked up at the slant of the sun. There was still some time. “Perhaps a quick ride round the meadows before we turn back,”

Violet’s eyes brightened at the offer. “Definitely,”

“Well then,” Prisha got onto her horse herself before offering Violet her hand. “Shall we?”

Nodding, Violet took her hand and with a small grunt hoisted herself into the saddle behind her. “Let’s ride,”

With a flick of the reins they were off, Violet’s arms tightly wrapped round Prisha’s waist as they galloped through the countryside. There was still much to come for both of them and neither was naïve enough to believe it would all be easy. But instead of goodbye a bond had been formed this day, one they knew would sustain them through whatever they might face till the day they could once again be hand in hand and never let go.

#twdg #fanfic #clouis #twdg privet #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg willy #twdg prisha #twdg violet #hamilton-ish au

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armandyke · 5 years ago

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Don’t you mind about the future

Summary: Allison is longing for some kind of normality after saving the world, and her siblings pull together to try and help.

Word Count: 1932

Square Filled: Game Night

Characters: All the siblings

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: The second of nine entries for @tuacreatorsbingo!

You can read it here, or on my AO3

It was 1:30pm, and Allison hadn’t left her room yet. She’d locked the door, wrapped the duvet tightly around herself, and she hadn’t stopped crying since 8am. The one perk of losing her voice, she’d discovered, was that she no longer had to try and stifle the sobs with a pillow to avoid any of her siblings hearing her. It had been a week now since they’d saved the world. No big deal really. It was hard, of course it was hard, but they got through it, determined to get back to some kind of normality. It was only now, lying in her childhood bed and staring at the faded magazine clippings taped to the wall, that Allison had realised she had no normality to go back to.

Patrick and Claire were on the other side of the country, and there were travel restrictions while everyone tried to recover from the whole armageddon thing. She’d thought about booking a private jet, but even if she could get to them she had no idea what she’d say. What they’d say. She was so behind on her therapy now that Patrick probably wouldn’t want her anywhere near them, and even though Luther had done his best to explain to him, and to her therapist, why she couldn’t talk over the phone anymore, they still hadn’t come up with a solution. Claire at least seemed to be enjoying her daily phone call with whichever uncle was closest to hand, and aside from one conversation with Klaus that Allison had to cut short, they’d all gone relatively smoothly so far. But even the calls were tinged with sadness. It killed her that her brothers got to speak to her daughter and she couldn’t, that they were the ones making her laugh and telling her stories, that Allison could hear her voice but Claire couldn’t hear hers. They still hadn’t found a way to explain that her mom couldn’t talk anymore, and might never be able to again.

The crying had mostly tapered off, and now she just felt empty. Empty because even if she could get home, even if she could see Claire and hold her and stroke her hair, none of it would be permanent. Patrick still had custody, and he could barely look her in the eye the last time they saw each other. One family had been ripped apart, and the other had spent the last week cooped up in a big house trying to awkwardly piece themselves back together. Last night’s dinner had been so uncomfortable that she’d had to leave, preferring the silence of her room over the silence of her brothers and sister sitting around a table exchanging awkward glances and trying to think of something to say.

She heard footsteps approaching from the end of the hall and could tell it was Luther before he reached the door. Despite how hard he tried to soften his steps, they were still distinctly louder than anybody else in the house. The sound came to a halt, and she couldn’t help but smile at how timidly he knocked on the door.

“Allison?” He called. “You okay in there?”

Part of her wanted to roll over and ignore him, but she knew she couldn’t stay in there all day. There were at least three people in the house that knew how to pick a lock. Sighing, she slid her feet into her slippers and padded across the floor, cracking the door open and peering out at him.

Luther’s brow furrowed in concern the moment he saw her, pushing the door open a little wider to talk to her.

“Hey,” He said softly. “I… Uh… Are you… Did something happen?”

She shook her head, her eyes falling on the plate of food he was holding.

“Oh, right.” Luther held the plate out towards her. “I brought your lunch up.”

He chuckled when she took the plate, not needing any words to know what she was thinking as she eyed up the omelette which was somehow burnt and runny at the same time.

“It was Diego’s turn to cook,” He explained and she nodded in understanding. “I didn’t wanna hurt his feelings, but I uh… I did also bring you some toast.”

Smiling in place of a thank you, she took the toast and opened the door further to invite him in. The two of them sat on the bed and she sniggered at how far the mattress dipped under Luther’s weight, sending her sliding down into his side. While she nibbled on the toast, Luther filled her in on everything that had happened that morning. Diego and Five got into an argument over cereal brands, Klaus had decided he was going to learn violin, and Vanya accidentally broke a window while trying to teach him. She smiled as he talked, but he seemed to sense the sadness, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“I know it must be hard not being able to talk to Claire,” He said with a sigh. “And I don’t know how to make it easier.”

Allison reached for the notepad on her nightstand so she could respond. Her writing speed had improved dramatically over the last few weeks, and it usually took her no more than a few seconds to reply to people now.

“I miss being part of a family,” She told him and he nodded.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t think any of us even know how to be a family anymore.” He hung his head. “I’m gonna try and fix this, Alli. I promise.”

He squeezed her hand before he left and she smiled, though she wasn’t entirely convinced he really knew what he was doing, turning on her radio and finishing the rest of her toast.

The evening approached, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her siblings despite a venture to the kitchen and the library. It wasn’t unusual for Diego and Five to keep to themselves during the day, but the house seemed strangely silent without Klaus zipping erratically from room to room, or the sound of Vanya’s violin practice. Still, she didn’t think much of it, and it wasn’t until she was back in the kitchen, spreading peanut butter on her fourth helping of toast, that Five made an appearance, making her jump and drop the knife she was holding.

“Sorry,” He said as she fumbled to pick up the knife. “Luther wants you. He’s in the lounge.”

Never one to drag a conversation out longer than necessary, Five was gone again in the blink of an eye, leaving Allison to make her own way slowly through their maze of a house to the lounge. She could hear hushed voices as she approached, and when she turned the corner she found all five of them sat on the lounge floor. The couches had been pushed out to make more room, with blankets and cushions spread out to sit on.

“What?” She signed, resenting the fact that Grace was only able to spend a few minutes each week teaching them some rudimentary signs as kids.

“This genius thinks he can solve our problems with some board games,” Diego said from where he sat with his arms folded and his back against the couch, nodding over to Luther.

“Would it kill you to stop being an asshole for one evening?” Luther muttered and he snorted.

“You think monopoly is gonna make me less of an asshole? You ever played this shit?”

Klaus, who was sprawled out on the floor at Diego’s feet, laughed at that and Luther ignored them both, turning back to Allison.

“We’re having a game night. A family game night. Because that’s what families do.”

“It is?” Vanya asked.

“Since when?” Five said at almost exactly the same time.

Picking up the notepad that had been set out on a cushion for her, she scribbled down on it and held it up.

“We used to have game nights with Patrick’s family.”

“Well, I’m convinced!” Klaus declared, hopping to his feet. “Try not to cry too hard when I kick your asses at twister.”

Luther was knocked out almost immediately, completely unable to keep his balance, shortly followed by Five, then Diego, then Allison. They shouldn’t have been surprised that Vanya was proving a worthy opponent for Klaus, considering she once famously won a game of hide and seek by contorting herself into one of their father’s suitcases. It was the most upbeat Allison had seen her family in years, all gathered around cheering Vanya on while Klaus cussed them out. Even Diego seemed to forgo the half dozen grudges he was holding in favour of diligently refereeing to make sure Klaus wasn’t cheating. When Klaus’ arms finally buckled underneath him the room erupted with cheering and shouting. The boys scooped Vanya up and paraded her around the room while Allison fell about laughing and Klaus huffed indignantly.

“This is bullshit,” He muttered, though she could see he was fighting a smile too.

The entire tone of the evening changed after that. Once they’d all calmed down again, they all gathered eagerly around and bickered over what to play next. Luther won an intense game of snakes and ladders, Diego beat them all at jenga, and Allison and Klaus won a team game of charades. In the middle of a connect four tournament, Klaus pointed out that Vanya had fallen asleep amongst the pillows, and during the final match between Luther and Five they realised Diego had also passed out with his arms hugging a cushion.

They were all getting tired, and none of them knew or cared what the time was, but they decided to start a game of cluedo anyway. Allison was so focused that she didn’t notice Luther was asleep until his loud snoring broke the silence, and when she looked up she saw Klaus curled up too, using Luther’s torso as a makeshift pillow.

“Maybe we should call it a night?” Allison had to shove the notepad right into Five’s face before he looked up from his card.

“What? No. I’ve almost solved this.”

She wasn’t sure how Five could have possibly ‘almost solved’ anything when they’d only had two turns each, but she just shrugged, shuffling closer to him and continuing with the game.

As the minutes passed, the game quickly devolved, and neither of them were making a great deal of sense anymore. Allison had long since given up on making guesses, and Five had slumped against her with his head on her shoulder, the way Claire used to when she was getting too tired, mumbling to himself as he scribbled and crossed things out on his card.

“Okay,” He said decisively, his head nodding as he tried to stay awake. “It was Mr Green, in the conservatory, with the knife.”

He snatched the cards triumphantly, only to quickly toss them back across the board with a huff.

“Shit,” He mumbled.

“Wrong?” Was all Allison had the energy to write and he nodded.

“It was Miss Scarlet,” He said, pointing an accusing finger over at Klaus.

Allison sniggered, and barely a minute later she could hear Five snoring beside her. Smiling to herself, she gently moved his head onto a pillow before getting to her feet and padding around the room to throw blankets over each of her siblings. Once she was satisfied they were all comfortable, she grabbed her own pillow and blanket and settled herself amongst them all, and fell asleep surrounded by her family.

#tuacreatorsbingo #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #tua fic #river writes #my fics #WHAT'S THE BUZZ TELL ME WHAT'SA HAPPENING

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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 4 years ago

Text

Scars: Year four, Chapter eight

Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse, implied abuse,

Remus sat beside his mum and best friend at the Lupin table in shock.

He knew something was up with her home life and that she definitely made up the iron deficiency lie but how could he not figure this out?!

Why didn't she tell him either? Did she not trust him enough or was there some other reason?

And why didn't he piece together that something was wrong at her home at first sight of the scar on her face? It was the same type of marking as the ones that were on Jamals back when they first took him in.

How did I not see this?!

How did I not see how much pain she was in? Why couldn't I see past the facade? Oh Godric I'm so horrible.

This whole charade gave was starting to give him flashbacks, and it gave Remus Lupin such a horrid realization that all he wanted to do was cradle the girl to his chest.

This was the same exact feeling that he'd had at the Potters that one night.

He felt useless, he felt he couldn't protect her from harm and it killed him to feel this way. He'd only ever felt this way on three other occasions. The first time was when Y/n had been having a night terror at the Potters and all he could do was wrap cold rags over her head and arms.

During that time he felt useless and unable to help, he cried his lungs out that night. While she was thrashing around and breaking down with night terrors he was sobbing uncontrollably, being unable to help her in any way possible truly sucked the soul out of him.

Knowing that he didn't do a thing to stop Y/n from harm for four years straight positively brought the breath out of his chest and brought along the overwhelming urge to protect his best friend, stand over her like a shield.

" Y/n dear tell me about your parents."

His head snapped back to the girl in the chair beside him. She doesn't like talking about her parents but I don't think she'd lie to mum...

" My mum and dad divorced when I was eight and mum won custody. I mean, I still saw my dad, every few years...

“ But, um, my mum, I live with her and my step dad. My step dad is almost always on business trips but when he's not he's really cold and despises me with a heated passion.

" My mother is- um, she's sort of a um, floozie though so she dates other people while my step dad's away and um, y'know, they just kinda casually get drunk and do it on the couch most of the times."

So that's why she doesn't like it when Sirius shags people at random.

" Y/n, does she hit you?"

The girl immediately turned towards Remus and saw how his eyes were wide with realization and sadness before a pang of guilt hit her heart. He reached out and grasped one of her hands, giving it a tight squeeze.

Y/n nodded her head at Hope and said,

" Can- can I just tell you tomorrow or the day after? I- I want to tell Remus first... he deserves the truth."

Hope nodded her head and Y/n stood up from her chair, pulling the entranced Remus up with her. He took her hand in his larger one before she led them back to his room and up the stairs. Once they reached the room Remus pulled her down to the bed, eyes still distant.

" I know that- that you're probably mad at me for not telling you and that you probably just want to yell at me for lying to you or you want to-'

" I would never yell at you for something like this."

It came out as a whisper and she could hardly hear it but, knew it was there. He glanced up at the girl standing in front of him chewing on her lip. His eyes were wide and glistening with held back tears.

" I'm so sorry I couldn't help you.

" I'm so stupid for not noticing..."

" Remus you helped me in more ways then you'll ever know and you're not stupid either,

The boys raised his head to look at the girl who was now crouched in front of him who's hands were now placed on his knees.

“ You helped me when I was sad, and angry at myself and all I wanted to do was disappear from the Earth.”

A small smile graced his lips at the memory, that was the first night Y/n had opened her heart out to Remus and cried,

" You helped me when I didn't have the motivation to get out of bed, when I wanted to pitch myself off the astronomy tower and kiss the world goodbye,’

He remembered those nights clearly as well, most of them were spent in the kitchens eating ice cream and talking, sitting on his bed together and playing muggle games to help clear her mind, him catching her on the astronomy tower and talking her out of it or him having to physically carry her out of bed and give her a pep talk. Those things were also what she did for Remus when he was feeling down and depressed.

" You helped me when I had nightmares and when I tried to push you guys away,”

Those nights were clearer than many. One main reason for why Y/n and Remus had picked up the habit of sleeping in each other's grasps was because it was just easier in general for Remus to fall asleep if he was with someone and Y/n had less nightmares when she was in someone's arms. They didn't choose to do that but it happened anyway and neither of them did anything to stop their growing addiction for each other at night.

The girl grabbed one of his hands and laced their fingers together,

" Don't blame yourself for helping me when I needed help the most Remus."

He responded by giving her fingers a light squeeze and pulling her up into a hug.

" After dad left and mum made me stay with her she became an alcoholic and started to abuse me. Soon she picked up a husband and it only became worse, more mental and less physical. While her husband left for his work trips it became physical again. When she picked up boyfriends it became sexual and she would sit by and watch."

Remus grabbed her shoulder and turned her body towards him sharply, sharp glare straight into her eyes. She knew who the glare was directed towards.

His next sentence was more of a growl, or bark, than anything and his voice was low and husky,

" They did what to you while she watched?"

Remus knew that Moony was starting to take over and did nothing to stop him from doing so. Moony, or the more wolfish side of Remus if you prefer, watched as Y/n's eyes widened slightly in panic and her voice transitioned to the same tone it had been when asking his mother that question.

His girl sounded weak and small and fragile, and he knew someone made her that way. He would make sure to get revenge.

" they would touch and do things to me,

her breath hitched,

" and she just watched."

Moony saw her shoulder muscles tighten slightly as she shrunk down a bit and winced.

" They touched you where?" His voice was deadly quiet.

" e- everywhere

" How often?" This time, it was obvious as to how he would react ,

" at- at least four times a week, t- three weeks a month. A diffe- different person each month..."

" Oh, I swear to you I'm going to kill every,

He started to pull her out of the room by her lower arm,

" Last One of them.”

" Remus what about me telling her when I -"

" Love I truly don't care about you telling her when your ready because I am pissed off for them even laying a single finger on you."

He looked back at the girl following along behind him and saw her smile,

" thank you Moony."

And just by looking at her smile like that, brought Remus back.

Remus noticed her discomfort at the prospect of telling his mother then and there before pulling her back to his room and onto the bed.

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously before saying, " Well, um, sorry for uh, making you feel uncomfortable or forced to tell her it's just- well, y'know how Moony gets. Can't you owl your dad and see if you can live with him for now on? I mean if you can't I'm sure mum'd find something. She could do what she did with Jamal."

The boy looked over at her, eyes furrowed and still pissed that someone had even done something like that to his girl. She squirmed a bit under his gaze and looked back over to the wall where a lamp was their only source of light. " Well, a few weeks back my dad sent me a letter saying he got custody until the end of my sixth year."

Remus nodded and bit his lip, eyes distant.

____________________________

When Y/n awoke she found herself in one of Remus' favorite jumpers and a pair of her black leggings. She had been curled up like a coil, one of her arms were sprawled over his bare chest and the other was slightly supporting her head, one leg on top of his and one of his arms had been wrapped firmly around her waistline, pulling her closer to his side. Y/n tried to sit up only to be pulled back down again by the boy and for her head to land on his bare chest.

The boy turned and flipped them so he was laying atop of her, his head in her neck's crook, arms wrapped around her waist. " Rem we have to get up..." Her fingers found their way to his hair and she started to thread them through it. He nuzzled his head further into the crook of her neck before whining, " but you're comfyyyyyyy."

The girl's face flushed pink and he nuzzled into her further with a smirk.

______________________________________________________________________

" Y/n darling you don't mind waking the younger ones do you?"

Said girl shook her head before standing up from her place on the floor by the now empty cauldron. Before she walked out of the door of Remus' room she laid a hand on Mrs. Lupins shoulder and faced her.

" Ask Remus." Hope knew exactly what

Y/n by that and simply nodded, her brows furrowed, not asking Remus for crap.

As the girl stepped foot into the little ones bedroom her heart absolutely melted. The room happened to be messier than the Mauraders dorm room but absolutely adorable all the same.

On one half of the room the walls were painted a puke green and had dinosaur toys spread all across the floor. In the corner of the same room there was a little twin sized bed with camouflaged bedding and little green army men lining the sides, as if ready for attack. On the other corner of that side there was a little green tent with "army barracks" surrounding it and more green soldiers.

On the other side, there was a little pink bed and a purple rug. On one wall beside the bed there were books on a medium sized shelf and pictures, by the rug there was a small doll castle with little princess's and their knight's. On the other wall infront of the pink bed there was a little basket with coloring books and crayons.

Yet, these weren't the things that melted her heart, what melted her heart was seeing the kids in their beds asleep that did so. Someone walked into the room beside her and stood against the door frame, hands in his pockets.

" They look so at peace Rem..." The taller boy nodded softly and wrapped his arms around the girls abdomen from behind, placing his head on her shoulder. She quirked a smile and, without turning, said, " Y'know Rem it was just earlier when you where laying on top of me and asking me to stay on the bed cause I was apparently comfortable. This is giving me some flashbacks."

Remus' face flushed and he pulled her closer, " I say weird things when I'm tired..." Remus shifted a bit, " I didn't make you uncomfortable did I?" Y/n carefully shook her head and smiled lightly. " Nah, if anything you made me want to cuddle into you more." The sentence only made the taller boy flush again and bury his head in her neck.

" Will you two just kiss already and carry me to the kitchen before I do it myself?" Suddenly a little brown head popped out from under the princess bed sheets and yawned pointedly before holding his little arms out expectantly.

Y/n smirked before turning around in Remus' arms and saying, "What the little man said Remus," She pulled the collar of his shirt down and pecked his cheek before turning away and waltzing over to the Princess bed, picking up the little boy, placing him on her hip in a motherly way.

The girl came back into the room to find Remus in the same place as before, face still tinted pink with a mark on his cheek from where she kissed him. She scooped up the little blond girl from the army bed and walked out of the room; on her way out she had to tap the other teen on his shoulder before he snapped out of his entrance and followed her down the hall.

Once in the kitchen they saw Hope dishing out breakfast onto plates between four plates on the table. Y/n immediately noticed the lack of plates and people,

" Hope, where's everyone at?" Remus turned back to Y/n and sat down at the table. " Dad and Mare are at work, mum has an off day for her to look in the shops at town and we have to watch these two."

_________________________

Drop a vote, drink some water, eat some food and remember You Are Loved!

^ - ^

#remuslupin #remuslupinxreader #the mauraders #harry potter #james potter #james potter x reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #james x lily #james x sirius #siriusblackxreader #siriusblack #lily potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #moony padfoot prongs and wormtail

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purplekiwis · 5 years ago

Text

From the Dining Table - Chapter III

Chapter III is here! It’s supposed to be the final chapter, but I’m still feeling kinda icky about the writing in this chapter and the ending, if any of you would like me to keep working on this story please let me know, I’m always happy to get any type of feedback from you. Lots of love to all of you ❤️ Check out the previous chapters: Chapter I | Chapter II Word Count: 6K Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter III - The Comedown

You ended up deciding that the best thing to do would be to call the police and inform them on what had truly happened. Leaving Harry and the band out of it, and pretending like they really hadn’t been there for the whole time the fuss had went down.

Even though Alexa threw a tantrum about it, you could tell she appreciated the fact that she had people there to support her. Besides, deep down, she knew there was no way she would’ve been allowed back there had you told the story she wanted to go for: That she’d had a creative meltdown that resulted in her trashing the studio out of frustration. It sounds quite odd, but the truth is that that version of events would most likely be believable to anyone who happened to be aware of Alexa’s most temperamental side... Although despite being very on brand for her, the tormented artist argument certainly wouldn’t have pleased her fans, nor the management, and much less the studio owners.

The rest of the week went by in the blink of an eye. Next thing you knew it was already Saturday again and you were getting ready for Alexa’s party. Yes, she decided to go through with it regardless of the start of the week’s unfortunate event. She kept it small though, inviting only her closest friends, that made for a considerably small group compared to the usual hundreds of guests that attended her parties.

Y/N put in an extra effort in her outfit that time. Deciding to wear a black floral chiffon dress with sheer details, paired with a pair of plum colored booties, that matched perfectly the shades of the flowers in your dress and the matte lipstick you were wearing. She ended up being one of the first guests to arrive to the house...Not because she wanted to be early, but because Alexa called and begged Y/N to come help her put up some decorations before the party started, since you were used to doing that artsy shit, as she put it. “Damn girl, where’s the rest of the band?” The girl playfully asked as soon as she layed eyes on you.

“What do you mean?” You chuckled at her question. “They won’t be here for a while... You asked me to come early, remember? For the lights...”

“No, I’m not talking about Sarah’s. You know that 70’s band Pussycat? You totally got that vibe going on.” She signaled your dress by drawing a circle in the air with her finger. “Like, a similar sort of indie, effortlessly cool, carefree style.”

“Effortless? Carefree?!” “Not in a sloppy way! In a I don’t even have to try to look this pretty way.”

“Fine, I’ll take it. You look gorgeous. I love that hair on you.” “Thank you, I try…” She shrugged, making a little spin and staring at you from over her shoulder. “Hey, you know who I think will really like your outfit? Your big fat crush.” “Oh, shut it.”

Alexa was right though. Because the first thing Harry did when he arrived was compliment you on your outfit. He was wearing a two piece black suit and LV boots, looking just as amazing as he always did. It got quite annoying, really.

Unlike it happened last time, you were feeling totally relaxed at the party. Maybe it was partly because you were already running with a couple drinks in your system, but mostly, Y/N was pretty sure... was because Harry was in a very chill mood that night, what meant she didn’t have to keep checking on him all the time, since he had been sitting next to her on the couch from the moment he had gotten to Alexa’s. The lot of you had been playing a made-up charades drinking game, because well, let’s face it, there aren't many other games you can play at a party with blasting music on the background... Unless we’re talking beer pong, but that’s just a little too corny for people who are far from being pissed out drunk at university.

Now, the issue with drinking games is that most times, you don’t really notice how drunk you’re getting until it’s already too late to do anything about it... And well… that may have happened to you. All you knew was that one minute you were sitting down, completely sober.... and the next you were losing your mind over the start of Let’s Dance by David Bowie. Luckily Harry was there to share your exhilaration, by grabbing your hand and dragging you to dance with him. At first you were just twirling around and singing your heart out, but when the line “Let’s sway” came in, Harry pulled you into crashing against his chest and jokingly swayed with you around the room that, for unknown reasons, was starting to feel a little too small for your ambitious dance moves. So you kept going down the hallway, somehow making your way into the dining room.

Your giggles were so loud that you could barely make up the music anymore. All you could pay attention to were Harry’s eyes, and how they seemed to swirl you away from reality and into a unknown green paradise where it was only you and him. You couldn’t tell, due to your drunken state but you were fully spacing out inside your head. Allowing for your body move for itself, and for your mind to run wild. When you came back from it, you realized you were no longer swaying... Just hugging and swinging your body to a song by Bread in the middle of Alexa’s empty dining room.

Harry had his hands carefully placed on your hips, your head was buried in his soft chest. You had no idea how long you had been doing this for, but you were enjoying it too much to stop, and apparently so was he.

You only parted your body away from his when the situation became too absurd not to be awkward, in other words, when you cought onto the fact you had been slow dancing to You Spin Me Round, without realizing it. When he felt you pulling away, he gently grabbed your hand and made you do a little spin for him, before letting go of you. “I’m so fucking drunk right now.” You chuckled, burying your face back in his neck.

“Yeah, I know.” You walked towards one of the room’s windows and opened it, leaning your body against the balcony way too confidently for a drunk person, making Harry rush to you and grab your hand to pull you back. “Don’t worry silly, I’m not going to fall.”

“I’m not risking it.” Harry pressed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. His bottom leaned against the dining table, and yours leaned into his lap, not quite sitting in it, just stuck between his arms and legs.

“How could I fall again when I’ve already been falling for so long?” “What did you just say?” He asked, holding you tighter in a playful way.

“Nothing, just forget it.” “You said you’ve been falling? Who’ve you been falling for missy?”

You stared at your feet, playing with the heel of your boot on your toecap to avoid his curious gaze. “No one…”

“Well, I think I know.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, staring at your bashful face with his longing eyes. “I told you I’d figure out your little mystery...”

“Who is it then?” “It’s Alexa, isn’t it?” “What? No! Why would you think that?” You drunkenly scorned, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Let’s see... You coming to her party and vanishing in the middle of the night was super odd… and well, I pulled some strings and found out that apparently, so did she. So, naturally I got suspicious that you two spent the night together. Then, she came and asked me for your number. Adding that to the fact that you became like great friends from one day to the next, when I know that you used to despise her, it made it pretty clear that there was something fishy going on. Oh! Not to mention the way you jumped to save her from that dickhead. That was some real gay novel shit by the way.” He laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sure that you two have, at least, a little fling going on.” “Nice try, but you’re... so wrong.” “No way! At least some part of it has to be right…” “It’s not, actually… It couldn’t be further from the truth.” “Right, who is it then?” “You can try to guess, it’s really not that hard…” “Do I know them?” “Yeah…” “But do I know-know them, or just know them?” “You know them very well…” “Is it Sarah?” “No.” “Is it Claire?” “No.” “Is it...” “It’s not a girl.” “Oh, okay… I did not see that one coming.” He scratched the back of his head. “That puts things in a different perspective... So, is it like a boy or is it someone with a different gender?”

“It’s a boy.” “Is he handsome?” “Hmm.. I guess? I would say so, yeah.” “I’m gonna take that as a somewhat… You don’t sound very convinced.” “I mean, if you say so…” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his reasoning. God, is he really that oblivious to the fact that it’s him?

“Is it that guy from your work? I don’t remember his name…”

“Whoever you’re thinking of, it’s not him.” “So you didn’t meet him at work?”

“Hm... I guess I kind of did, yeah.” “Is it Mitch?”

What does Mitch have to do with my work anyway? “No.” “Is it John?”

“Are you serious?” “What? I’m trying… Is it your boss?” “Oh, for fuck’s sake Harry!” In a random act of courage, perhaps even desperation, you jumped off his lap and turned around to face him. Pushing back all the second thoughts, you cupped his face with both your hands and pushed your lips onto his.

He didn’t react at first and you felt his body tensen up. As you were about to pull away and get ready to run, he gave into the kiss, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb as your lips and tongues danced together.

You could feel the blood running wild inside your veins as the kisses became tougher and the mood got steamier. His hands now dived into the folds of your dress, pulling you closer onto his lap. You felt the grip of his hands on your bum as he turned you around so you were the one sitting on the table. His hands moved up and down your thighs, dragging the fabric of your dress along, until it rested on your hips, as he inserted his body in between your legs.

Your hands were all over him, and his were all over you.

You could feel the thrill of it all over you, but the pulsation was definitely predominant and harder to bear in your core, and you could tell he felt the same way when he unwittingly began grinding his hips against edge of the table, desperate for any type of friction he could get.

You grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer to where your body craved him the most, simultaniously pushing yourself further off the table, to facilitate the access. “Y/N... we shouldn’t. We can’t.” The boy mumbled, eyes closed and body still glued to yours.

You chose to ignore his apprehension, placing kisses on his jawline and down to his neck to keep him going and assure him that you were fine with whatever it was that you were doing, and you could feel him begin to melt into them. “Stop.” He spoke in a harsher tone, talking more to himself than to you as he pushed himself away. “This is wrong.”

“Was it something I did?” “No, it’s not you! It’s just… We’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

“I won’t”

“Y/N… You’re drunk.”

“I would want this just as much if I was sober.”

“Don’t say that.”

You fell into a silence, but unlike it usually happened between you, the silence was far from confortable, it was deafening. “I’m guessing you don’t feel the same…”

“I...I don’t know…” “It would be easier if you just said you don’t, I can take it.” “Yeah, um... This is…fuck, I don’t know what to say. I never thought about you like that before, we’ve always just been friends.”

“I know, but... You’re right. This was stupid.” You mumbled. You got up in a jump and fixed your dress, trying your hardest to fight back the tears that threatned to escape, you turned your back to him and began walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“Home, Harry.” “But... Seriously? You’re just going to run away?!” “No, I just… I don’t think I can do this right now.” “I’m sorry, you’re right... I get it. It’s a lot and... I’ll come by your house tomorrow so we can talk better, alright?” “I don’t think that will be necessary. Actually, can we just forget that this ever happened?” “Y/N, it’s okay that you can’t do it right now... but we need to talk.” “It’s fine, Harry. I don’t know what came over me, just let it go.” You felt a tear rolling down your cheek and wiped it away, but you were not quick enough for him not to notice it.

“Hey, hey, hey… Look at me. Please don’t cry.“ He rushed to you, but you held out your hand to urge him to stop. “It’s fine.”

“No it’s not…” “Just forget it, okay? This was stupid, I was stupid.” “Don’t say that.” “It’s true Harry, this was… fuck.” – You attempted to wipe the tears away, but they just kept on coming and you could barely talk anymore due to the clog you felt on your throat.

“I’m so sorry… I never meant to hurt you.” You turned your back to him and ran out of the dining room, stopping past the living room to quickly grab your belongings. You briefly looked towards the sofa where your friends were and met Alexa’s expectant gaze, her facial expression encouraged you to come over, but you just shook your head disappointedly. She deduced what the reason behind your sadness was and got up form the sofa to come comfort you. A pityful frown was drawn on her tinted lips.

You heard Harry’s voice calling your name from the hallway and impulsively ran out the front door, leaving both of them behind on the porch screaming for you to come back, but you didn’t.

You knew it was stupid and irresponsible to drive while you were drunk, but you just couldn’t care, you were too overwhelmed to give a damn about anything other than the devastating feelings you felt over your entire body.

Sadness, hopelessness, shame, pain.

And god, you hated him.

You hated him for being so gentle, so kind, so polite.

You wished he would’ve taken advantage of you while you were drunk, you wished he would’ve laughed in your face or made you feel stupid, because that would’ve given you a reason to never want to talk to him again. But he didn’t, if anything he’d just given you a reason to love him more.

And it was agonizing... To think about his kisses, because you knew you’d never taste them again.

To hear him say he was sorry for hurting you, because you knew he meant it.

To know he was perfect, because you knew he would never be yours.

After that night, he tried to contact you multiple times, through texts, calls, voicemails… but you never answered. You never meant to avoid him, but you just didn’t have the strenght in you to finish the conversation that unnevitably was going to leave you even more heartbroken.

Days of silence turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, somewhere in the middle he stopped trying to reach you, and you didn’t blame him for it. What was he supposed to do anyway?

Sometimes you would ask Alexa about him, to make sure he was okay. Apparently he was doing great, his first solo album was about to come out and he already had a world tour planned for the next year.

Sometimes you wanted to call and tell him you still loved him and that were proud of him. But how could you? So you didn’t, and you didn’t show up at his launch party, even though you still got an invitation for it in your e-mail. How come he still wanted you there after what you’d done to him?

Even though you weren’t there to celebrate with him, you got the album on the day it came out. You bought the physical one, so you could see pictures of him as you listened. You must’ve really hate yourself to think that was a good idea, but you weren’t going to waste an opportunity to look at pictures of him without feeling guilty...

The day you picked up the album was actually a work day, what resulted in you listening to the CD while at work, because you were too impatient to wait to get home. You decided you would save the pictures for later though, for when you could suffer and beat yourself up in peace inside the four walls of your bedroom.

From the moment you started playing it, you were over the moon with it. You’d always known how talented he was, but the music was unbelievably good and even though you’d gotten to listen to some snippets that he showed you, nothing could describe the feeling you felt when listening to it all come together in the most amazing way possible.

While you inspected the copy in your hands, your eyes froze on the title of the last track - “From the Dining Table”. It was an odd song title and you didn’t remember him ever playing you that song. It also reminded you of the moment you shared at Alexa’s house and your stomach flipped, causing you to shrunk in your chair. You tried to push the thought to the back of your mind but it kept wondering... What if he really wrote about that?

You knew it was a long shot and that it obviously hadn’t been that big of a deal for him, at least not to the point where he would write a song about it, but your heart was pumping and your mind was racing to the thought that maybe, just maybe... Well, there’s only one way to find out. You skipped to the last song.

“Woke up alone in this hotel room, Played with myself, where were you? Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon I’ve never felt less cool.”

To the sound of his lyrics, your heart was filled by disappointment. Even though you told yourself you were already setting up to get your expectations crushed, apparently you were still naive enough to think that it could be about you. “We haven’t spoke since you went away Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won’t you ever be the first one to break? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”

Okay, but that could be about anyone else…

“I saw your friend that you know from work He said you feel just fine I see you gave him my old t-shirt More of what was once mine I see it’s written, it’s all over his face Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won’t you ever say what you wanna say? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”

You dropped the album cover out of shock as the memories came flying by.

A few weeks prior you had found out that your co-worker Alfie had the same shirt Harry gifted you because you’d seen him wearing it around the studio one time. You also remembered that not long after the party, Alfie had been bragging about running into Y/N’s famous friend, as he called him, in the grocery store and how he had complimented his shirt... But you didn’t think much of it, guessing that it was just Harry trying to make small conversation. Somehow you never put two and two together, until now. “Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too, But you, you never do”

You couldn’t argue with that. He was right in his words.

“Woke up the girl who looked just like you I almost said your name We haven’t spoke since you went away Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won’t you ever say what you want to say? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”

During the time period you were apart, it never crossed your mind that he might be hurting as well. You just assumed that he was doing fine and that your absence didn’t bother him, and yet apparently, he missed you. He missed you enough to write a song about you and put it in his album.

You wished you could turn back time and give him a chance to speak his mind about what had happened. You wished you’d stayed when he called you from the hallway instead of running away like you always did when things got complicated.

You didn’t even realize that you were crying until someone tapped you in the shoulder to ask if you were okay. “Actually, no. I think I made a huge mistake.” You pulled off your earphones and shut yout laptop. “I need to go get some air... If Charles asks for me, just tell him I went outside for a call.” You told your coworker, before pushing yourself off your chair and heading towards the door.

You had been pacing around on the sidewalk for the past five minutes with your eyes stuck to your phone, ocasionally bumping onto passengers on the street. Some of them scoffed when you didn’t make a move to dodge them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to even apologize.

Your whole body felt numb other than the tight knot you felt on your stomach, begging to be released.

Without giving it a second thought, you went through your contacts and pressed Harry’s number. You had no idea about what you were about to say to him, all you knew was that you needed to listen to his voice. You needed to talk to him, even if that meant that you were going to have to face your biggest fear. “Hello.” His voice came out apprehensive... As if he was wondering if you’d accidently called the wrong number. It made your heart clench. How did you ever let it get to this point?

“I did not give him your shirt, you moron!” “Uh… Okay?” He seemed confused by the way you had decided to start this conversation, and honestly, so were you. “I’m guessing you listened to my song…?” “Yes I did!” “Well, what did you think?” “ I’m so proud of you! Your album is amazing, and... I’m so sorry I didn’t go to your party, I- also I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry! I was childish and stupid and...”

“Wow, wow, wow… Slow down.” “I’m sorry.” You apologized again. “You probably don’t even want to be talking to me right now...” “I do.” “You do?” “If I didn’t I wouldn’t have picked up the call, don’t you think?” “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” “But hmm... before anything else, I hope you’re aware that there’s a pending conversation that we still need to have...” “Yeah, I know…” “Where are you right now?” “I’m at work.” “You’re calling me from work?” “No, I’m outside, I dodged so I could call you.” “Oh, I must be really important then..” You rolled your eyes a little at the provocation, even though he wasn’t there see you. “Do you want to meet after work? So we can talk properly? I don’t like to have serious conversations on the phone, besides, I don’t want you to get in trouble at work because of me...Again.” “Well, at least we’re not stealing anything this time, right? Where do you wanna meet?” “Hmm… Do you wanna come by the studio after work?” “What are you doing at the studio? You just released an album, you should be at home! ...Sleeping, celebrating, fucking someone... I don’t know, living life!” He laughed a bit at the question. “I guess I’m so used to being here all the time that my body naturally just started to assume that this is where I live now.”

“Have I ever told you how much of an unbelievably peculiar person you are?” The studio wasn’t too far from work to you. So you figured you would be best just walking there. Part of you was nervous, but the relief that you felt in knowing that you were going to see Harry again, turned the prospect of having this overdue conversation into something mildly pleasant. You were expecting Harry to have company with him, so you were surprised when you got to the door and noticed he was alone. Immersed in his notebook while playing cords in his guitar. Y/N stalled herself for a minute by the door, taking a moment to admire him. He looked so beautiful and fascinating when he was focused on his work that it effortlessly triggered your heart into pumping harder on your chest. How come someone so pure could make you hurt so bad?

He stopped whatever song he was playing for a second, bending down over his stomach a little to check the notebook perched on the table, and you took the chance to knock on the door. Carefully opening it with a soft smile painted on your lips.

“Oh! Hey you...” He greeted when his eyes recognized the face peeking at him. His lips were smiling, but you could tell he was reluctant about getting up to come greet you with a hug like he always did, so you just made the first move, walking over and squeezing him in your arms.

You felt his body relax under your hold. The realization that he didn’t mind your affection made your lips part into a relieved sigh. Both of you longed for the hug for a little longer than usual, in a silent way of letting eachother know that, no matter what had happened prior, everything was going to be alright.

He sat down and you followed, sitting on the other end of the couch. You began catching up with eachother, talking mostly about Harry’s album and having meaningless conversations. You could feel the tension in the air, and you knew he felt it too, since both of you had, not so discretly, been avoiding letting the silence settle in, but there was only so much you could talk about, and eventually you fell into an heavy silence.

Just as you were about to adress the subject that you had so desperately been trying to avoid, he spoke. “Do you wanna come see the new rooftop? It’s really nice up there.”

You nodded, not knowing if he was attempting to delay the awkward natured conversation or if he was genuinly that eager to show you the furniture they had up there. Either way, you didn’t mind the change in the scenario, and you definitely appreaciated the feel of the wind in your face, aliviating the feeling of heavyness you felt inside the room. “It really does look nice up here.” You observed as you took a look around yourself, finding comfort in the background noise of the never ending traffic happening just a couple of meters below.

“Be careful where you step though, don’t want you slipping on my vomit.”

“That was ages ago! I’m sure it’s all gone by now...”

“Yeah, you’re right… time does fly, doesn’t it?” He sat in one of the plastic chairs near the edge of the building. You answered with a nod and remained standing, taking in the view of the sun setting in the horizon. “Come here for a second.” The boy asked, pulling one of the plastic chairs from the table, so you could sit next to him.

“Oh boy... This is it, isn’t it? Serious conversation time?” You tried to lighten the sudden serious atmosphere by poking fun of it, sitting down and patting at your own knee with your finger, to avoid looking directly at the boy sitting beside you.

“I think so... Unless you’re about to run from me again.” Harry darted back, but his tone remained calm, with a light playfulness to it even.

“I won’t.” “Good.” He assented with a nod. “So... How ‘ave you been feeling?” “I’m okay... ‘Could be worse. You?” “I mean, career wise and stuff, it’s been great. Can’t complain. But uh... In other matters, ’ve been kinda miserable since that day, you know?” “Because of what we did?” “That’s part of it, yeah. But also...” You interrupted before you could finish. “I ruined our friendship didn’t I? God... It was so stupid, I’m sorry.” “No, it’s not like that at all... And it wasn’t stupid.” He took a big breath before daring to speak again. “I liked it, actually.” You lifted your eyes to look at him, only to realize that now it was him who was staring at his own feet. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah...” Harry squinted his eyes and looked at you with a smirk. “I don’t know what kind of spell you put on me, but it worked... Got me fucked, absolutely fucked.”

“I didn’t do anything eerie, I swear.” “Are you sure? You sounded a bit guilty there.” “I can't even make a decent soup... You really think I could muster making a love potion to give you that didn't come out completely the other way around? I’m flattered, but no.” Both of you allowed for the humorous notes to linger in the air for a while, whilst you prepared to ask the next question. “Do you regret that it happened?” “No, I don’t.” Harry replied easily. “I regret that I let you get away after, though.” “I also regret going away...” “When I called you from the hallway, I was going to ask you to stay...” “You were?” “Yeah,” He laughed at your surprised state. “But going back now, I think that it was a good thing that we had time to think about stuff... Maybe if you’d stayed we’d end up rushing into things.” “I still think it was unfair what I did to you. I was a coward, I didn’t want to deal with the consequences of my own actions, so I ran and left you to deal with it all alone... When the problem wasn’t even yours in the first place.” “It’s fine... seriously.” He took the opportunity to hold your hand in between his, caressing the back of it with his thumbs. “What matters most is that you’re here now, and trying to fix it.” You placed your other hand on top of his, just so you could caress his skin as well. He gave you a smile, not making a single move to pull away from the intimate moment. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed at you.” “I don’t blame you, I would too if I was you.” “No you wouldn’t. You’re a softie, you don’t know how to get angry at people.” “I hate that you know that. Can never keep anything from you, can I?” “I think you can. I didn’t know you liked boys, for example...” “I don’t. Usually...” Your first reply came out as quick as a flash. “Guess you’re that special, huh?” “Careful, there. Might get big-headed...” You smiled a little at his words. “So… that means you still feel the same, you know, about me?”

“Yeah, I- I guess I do.” Your answer came out shy, almost like a spoken exhale. “What about you?” You shifted the direction of the conversation before the unavoidable feeling of pity you were expecting could take over Harry’s features. “Have you been seeing someone?” “Hmm… I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss my love life with you now...” “We’re still friends Harry. We can talk about it, just leave out the gory details.” “So... there’s this girl…” He eased in slowly. “She’s a bit of a nightmare, if I’m honest... But at the same time, she’s also one of the best people I’ve ever known, you know? And I think I really like her... But there’s a part of me that’s scared of taking the next step and asking her out because, well... It’s a little complicated.” “How does she feel about you?” “That’s the thing, I don’t know. I’m assuming she likes me because of the way she acts with me, but she never really uses her words, so...” “So you guys have been sort of dating, is that it...?” “No, it was just a one time thing. I was planning on asking her out, but I never got to do it after all...” “I think you should. There’s only one way to find out if she likes you or not. Take your chance while you can... Don’t be like me, you know?” “You know what? You’re right. I think I’m gonna do it.” He said, getting up from his seat in a jump and grabbing the phone in his pocket.

“Oh. You’re gonna do it right now?” “I was. Do you mind it? I can always do it later…”

“No, no. It’s fine, go ahead. The sooner the better, I suppose.” At that, he walked away from you... And you thanked God beause you felt like you were about to combust under your clothes at how insensitive he was being! Couldn’t he sense that you were dying on the inside? You knew he didn’t mean to make you feel like shit... He was just being casual spontaneous Harry but fuck, it was too soon for this crap!

Harry was pacing around the rooftop while looking through his contacts, making sure to keep a large distance between the both of you, just so you couldn’t listen to his conversation. He took the device to his ear, sparing you a curious look as he did so. When he noticed your eyebrows raising inquisitively, he just grinned and flashed you his thumb. You were trying to figure out the meaning behind the gesture, when you felt your phone start to vibrate inside your pocket, shaking your head when you saw the name displayed on the screen. You chose to pick up the call, trying to poke fun at him. “Wrong number!” You said, expecting nothing but for him to tilt his head back with a smile from his side of the roof before pressing decline and searching for the right contact.

“Sorry, what was that?” “You’re calling me, idiot. Y/N, the one who’s right behind you.” “Yeah, I know. I’ve been meaning to call you for a bit...” “What are you on ab-?” You still managed to question before realization finally kicked in. “Oh.” You exclaimed, still a little flabbergasted. “Was that about me? Am I... her?” “Yeah, look... Like I was saying, I’ve been meaning to call ‘cause I wanted to ask if you would you like to go out on a date sometime...” “Couldn’t you just invite me like a normal fucking person?” “I could... but where’s the fun in that?” He asked back, sparing you a brief look as he walked from side to side across the roof’s open space. Still a little far from where you were sat. “So, what do you say?” “Yes, I would like to go out with you.” “She said yes!” He shouted at the sky, before dropping to his knees in a theatrical way whilst fisting the air in celebration.

“You’re an exhibitionist prick.” “Am I? I thought you liked it.” He asked, finally turning his attention to you and giving you a cocky stare.

“Just come over here and kiss me already.” You concluded, hanging up the call at last, knowing he would come walking over as soon as you did. Almost exactly as you had forecasted, you watched your friend stuff his phone back in his pocket and pacing back towards the chairs with a stupid grin on his face before he bent down over his knees right in front of you.

“Hi.” He smiled. “Hi.” You brushed your noses together, trying to hide the silly smile painted on your face but failing miserably.

Harry leaned in at the gesture, placing a light peck over your lips before pulling away. He kept his nose and lips brushing softly into yours. The push and pull game was driving you mad... Even though you knew he was doing it to tease you on purpose, your eagerness made it impossible for you to resist going after what you wanted. You caved in, pulling him by the collar for a proper kiss. But before you could close the short distance, Harry got up and pulled you up from the chair by your waist, so that you were both standing.

He kissed you, then. Soft and slow at first… but it wasn’t long until the desire took over the both of you and you found yourselves rushing down the stairs back to the studio, making out against practically every wall you came across in the process.

You couldn’t put together when exactly one of you had decided to go back downstairs, let alone which one of you was the leader or follower, but the harshness in the way you were pressing against each other made it clear that both of you had the same thing on your mind.

Between the groping and the wet kisses you lost track of where you were going, only realizing you were back on the place you had started when you felt your back press up against the door knob of the studio’s rented room. You reached behind and opened it, allowing Harry to lock the door and lead your body to where he wanted it. He turned both of you around and sat on the sofa, pulling you by the back so that you sat on his lap.

Almost unconsciously, you began grinding your hips against his thigh, feeling his body begin to stiffen under you. His warm hands slid from the small of your back down to your bottom, caressing your ass over your jeans before giving a sudden tug to pull you closer, so you were positioned right atop of his lenght, causing you to squirm a little.

Your lips began to wonder down his jaw then, placing gente kisses and sucks until you noticed his sped up heatbeat over the larger vein of his neck. The way his breathing was starting to sound all hot and heavy only led you on more... As you grinded your hips again his, now clearly visible, bump. Harry hissed at the contact, curling his fingers around your hips and tugging to keep you rubbing on him for a while. But it wasn’t enough. He could tell you needed more, judging by the small gasps and hums you were letting out for him, and he was more than happy to keep prodding them on. “Wanna take care of you.” The boy confeesed, moving his hands from your back to your front, and wasting no time before undoing the button and the zipper of your dark colored jeans. “Will you let me?” “Yes, I want you to...” You admitted. “but...” “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” He guessed.

“A little…yeah.” You buried your face in his neck to hide your embarassment.

“It’s okay love, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” He cupped your face, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I know, it’s just…” “Is it because of my…” He looks down at his own lap. “You know.“

“No, Harry, I’m not scared of your dick if that’s what you’re thinking...” “What is it then?” “I’ve never, you know… did it with a guy before.” “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We don’t even have to do anything at all.” “But I want to. It’s just, what if I’m not good at it?” “We’ll take it slow, start with the basics and we’ll go on from that, okay? I’ll be here for you and you’ll be here for me. We all like different stuff, it’s not like there’s a guide for it, I’ll learn what you like and you’ll learn what I like... This is new for me too.” “Yeah, right…” You scoffed.

“Not everyone likes the same stuff… It’s always new when the partner changes, it doesn’t matter if it’s a guy or a girl, of course some things are a little different but we’re all human, right?” “Okay, I guess you’re right.” “I’m always right.” “You’re gonna get cocky on me now?” His eyes lit up once he opened his mouth to speak. You could tell he was about to make a filthy pun about his cock. “Don’t you dare saying it.” You playfully warned, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Better hurry to shut me up then, or I might not be able to hold myself.”

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