#rip as in rest in poop ofc

[camo1000le]

Rip william afton you would've loved nonbinarism

[distressedpanda]

Not A Fan! (Tom Hiddleston x OFC) Part 9

Warnings: Language, Younger woman/Older man, Fluff, Angst

Tags: @intransittosomewhere

Gets a read more for length.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Hiatus Notice

A/N: I am putting this fic on pause for a little bit. I am NOT done with it! I just need some time to get a few chapters under my belt. I am also needing a breather and a little me time. I am not sure when I will be posting again, but I will keep you guys posted.

Part 9

Stirring and stretching, the sound of something clicking filtered slowly into my ears. Rousing me further was an amazingly delicious smell, that made my stomach growl loudly. Hearing a pause in the clicking followed by a chuckle, I slowly opened my eyes.

My very own god, sat leaning against the headboard next to me. His legs crossed neatly at his feet, I noticed he had on a pair of blue and white plaid pajama pants, and a white v-neck t-shirt. Computer open in his lap-that explained the clicking-fading sun glowing around his head, turning his hair to bright fire. I hummed and smiled at his toothy grin.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

I nodded and stretched my arms over my head. Bowing my back and twisting my hips to achieve a satisfying releasing poop in my lower back muscles. That smell assaulting my nose again, and making my stomach twist with hunger, “What is that glorious smell?”

He turned toward the nightstand, grabbing a white container I couldn't read from this angle, “I ordered Chinese take-out,” he answered, offering me the box and a plastic fork. My stomach responded for me. I sat up keeping the comforter pulled tightly around my still naked body and lent back against the wall to face him, taking the proffered as I settled in. “I ordered your usual. I hope you don't mind that I asked. The number was on your fridge, and I figured they might be your favorite.”

I smiled, opening the container greedily, “I don't mind at all,” I shook my head, as I stirred the beef and broccoli into the fried rice. “They are my go to when I am working and forget to eat,” I grinned and shoveled the mixture into my mouth. I moaned at the taste. Closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the wall as I chewed.

He started clicking his tongue, “Damn,” he cursed under his breath.

I snapped my head up to look at him. His hand was against his mouth rubbing insistently, staring at his computer screen which I couldn't see. “What is it?” I inquired, taking another bite.

He clucked his tongue a few more times. Then turning to me with apologetic eyes, still rubbing furiously at his chin, “I should have let you talk me out of going this afternoon.” I furrowed my brow. In answer, he turned the computer screen to me, and I nearly choked on the bite I was still chewing.

There on the screen were several, very clear, well positioned pictures of us during lunch. Of course they were all poses that could be construed as intimate-well as intimate as we got in public anyway. Me draped around his arm, in awe of the park. Him leaning over me to get my attention to leave. Me nuzzling into his arm as we walked down the stairs, and him kissing the top of my head.

I swallowed thickly, “Shit,” I breathed.

“Yes. My publicist, Luke called while you were sleeping. He is furious with me. But I suppose this is to be expected when you start dating a celebrity,” he said, turning the computer back to face him.

All thoughts and worries about our privacy receded to the back of my mind. That word, had he really just used that word, “Are we dating, Thomas?” a thin line of amusement lacing my voice, I smiled coyly.

His head snapped back to me, his eyes openly studying my expression. His lips smoothed to a shy grin, “Do you want to be dating me, Alyse?”

I quirked my head, as though I really had to think about it. Immediately, he closed the laptop tossing it carefully to the foot of the bed. I giggled when he pounced on me, pulling me down covers and all, beneath him. I held the take out box carefully away from us, trying not to spill its contents all over the bed. His lips captured mine, and I hummed into his open mouth. Our tongues dancing playfully.

He pulled back slightly, breaking the contact, “If you really need to think about it, I don't think I should be here,” he whispered, with that grin still lighting his face.

I huffed, “Is that a threat, Mr. Hiddleston?” I cocked my head to the side, my hair splaying wildly around my head.

“Not at all, Miss Cadence. Merely speaking the truth.”

I sighed, gazing longingly up into those gorgeous blue orbs, “I don't know that I should be dating anyone right now, Thomas. But if I had to choose someone, I would choose you. I am choosing you,” my words slowly trailing off to a whisper.

He beamed at me, and nuzzled my ear, whispering, “For she had eyes and chose me.”

I sighed again, and nuzzled into his neck holding him with my free arm, “I like when you quote Shakespeare, Thomas.”

He squeezed my sides lovingly, then sat back on his knees and helped me sit up. I captured the blanket with my free hand making sure it stayed where it was supposed to, and set into finishing my dinner. Him returning to his early position and watching me intently, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

When the container was empty and my stomach completely satisfied, I cleared my throat, “I should probably get dressed.”

His cheeks grew pink, as he turned to watch me sit up on my knees and daringly reach across him to place the box on the nightstand. My back and ass were completely exposed to him, and this time I felt no need to cover them. I stayed there when his hand found my skin. Settling on my lower back, his thumb drawing lazy circles across one of my scars. I moaned low at the contact and arched my back, turning my eyes to him.

He purred, smoothing his hand over my hip, “You could stay just like this. I wouldn't mind in the slightest,” his eyes gleamed mischievously, giving me a wicked smile.

I giggled and shook my head, “Have I created a monster?” I asked, sitting back into his palm. The comforter slipping teasingly to rest just before exposing my now hard nipples. I placed my hands on his shoulders, watching his heated eyes graze across the tops of my breasts.

He sucked in a sharp breath, “ Maybe,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle against my cleavage, “I need to go to the store.”

I giggled, stroking the back of his head, gently tangling my fingers in his curls. “Later,” he groaned against my skin, causing a vibrating giggle to escape my throat. “I have to clean up downstairs, since I didn't take care of it before we left. And I am certain there are some things you still need to take care of with your publicist?”

He let lose a growling whine, burying his head deeper into my breasts and bringing his hands down to rest against my ass. I gasped and bit my bottom lip to the point of pain, fighting back the moan rippling up my throat. He squeezed and kneaded my flesh roughly.

“Fine,” sighing heavily and keeping his eyes downcast, he released me and lent back against the head board. His hands raising and settling behind his head. He pulled slightly at his hair, not daring to look up at me, “But you had better dress quickly, or I can not be held responsible for what happens next.”

I giggled, “Stand up and turn around then.”

He did. Sliding his legs over the side of the bed and standing with his back to me. His hands still tangled in his hair, appearing to be close to ripping it from his skull.

Not wanting that to happen, I quickly gathered the comforter around myself. Pulling it with me and sliding off the foot of the bed. I grabbed some sleep pants, and a shirt from my dresser and slid into my closet pulling the door closed behind me.

When I had dawned the black shirt-three sizes to big- and the baggy pale blue pants, I rolled the comforter into a ball. Stepping back out to the main room, I noticed Thomas on his computer again, this time sitting on the couch. Tossing the comforter on the bed, I walked over to the couch and draped myself around his neck, over the back of the couch. I kissed his temple, and over his answering hum, “I will be right back.”

He turned into my grasp, clasping my wrists with one of his hands. He turned his face up to mine, “Don't be too long,” he whispered, against my lips.

“No promises,” I answered just as low, pecking his lips. “I have a lot to do,” I added.

He groaned and pressed a greedy kiss against my lips before releasing me, “You are quite lucky I have to make some phone calls,” he huffed.

I turned for the door, grabbing my coat, toboggan, and gloves on my way out the door.

  It took me two hours to clean up and get everything stored and put away. Coming back out of the shop, to lock up and go back to the man awaiting my return, my eyes were suddenly assaulted by flashing lights. Questions were being thrown at me from several different unfamiliar voices. I couldn't understand any of the words but one Tom.

Tucking my head into my coat and raising my hands to hide my face, I sprinted down the sidewalk and up the stairs. Yanking the door open, and slamming it closed behind me. I slumped over, hands on my knees, panting with overwhelming panic.

Immediately, Thomas was at my side. Sliding to me on his knees, “What's wrong? What happened? Are you alright?” His worried eyes scanning my body for injury.

I nodded and then shook my head, trying without much success to refill my lungs and slow my heart, “I think. . . we have. . . a problem,” I managed to get out between gasps for air.

His worry grew, “Alright, but I need you to tell me the problem or I won't be able to help you.”

“Us, Thomas,” I breathed, slowly regaining my ability to pull air into my gasping lungs, “Help us.” I watched his brow furrow, squaring his shoulders, as if he were needing to protect me.

One word was all I had to say, so he would understand. Sliding down against the door, my ass hitting the cold floor hard, I barely registered the pain, as I whispered, “Reporters.”

The light of recognition flashed in his eyes, and he slumped onto the door next to me, “Damn, I was afraid of this. I am so sorry.”

I shook my head, reaching up to his cheek. I smoothed my thumb against that sharp cheekbone, hoping I could provide some comfort. I gave him a small smile, “This is what I get for dating a celebrity, right?”

His grin matched mine, “Yes. Yes it is,” he nuzzled into my hand, tenderly covering it with his own. “Doesn't mean I am any less apologetic. It was my actions that caused this to happen after all,” he heaved a regretful sigh.

I shook my head vehemently, “Please don't. I have loved every minute of it. I wouldn't have traded my time with you for anything in the world. The park, even the airport, I loved being with you. I love. . .” my breath hitched in my throat, my eyes going wide. I couldn't believe what I had almost said, but just as I doubted the words, the swelling in my heart proved they were true.

This is to fast, way to fast! Don't go there Alyse, you don't know him well enough yet! He doesn't know you! My inner monologue scolded.

But that wasn't true, he had seen the ugliest parts of me and called them beautiful, and meant it. He had held me while I fell apart in his arms, and stayed, even returned. He had worshiped my body, and expected nothing in return.

His eyes grew expectant, as he watched me tear myself apart internally. He reached out to my cheek then, with his free hand, and the internal debate fell away. The love for him I had, mirrored back at me in his eyes, and this time I couldn't breath for a completely different reason. “You love what, Alyse?” He begged with his tone and eyes.

I shook my head, pulling my eyes away from his. Attempting to withdraw my hand from his cheek, he squeezed it tightly keeping it in place. I couldn't do this, could I? I had feelings for him sure. But love? Love was such a strong word, and it often changed things.

He tilted my head up with his thumb, looking deeply into my eyes, “You aren't ready to say that quite yet, are you.” It didn't sound like a question, but I shook my head anyway. He sighed, tracing my lower lip with his thumb. His eyes dropping to follow the movement. “Can I admit to something then?” I nodded, my breathing becoming shallow gasps, that raked over his thumb making him tremble. “I have feelings for you too. . .” he trailed off, seeming to want to say more but stopping himself instead.

I shivered as my heart swelled, feeling like it might burst from my chest. A single tear rolled down my cheek onto the back of his hand. “I believe you,” I whispered and smiled, leaning up to kiss him tenderly.

He hummed against my lips, and circled his arms tightly around my waist, mine wrapping around his neck. Caging me against his body, he heightened the passion of the kiss, forcing his tongue between my lips. I suckled on it, lapping at it with my own. He moaned happily, and then pulled back to lean his forehead against mine, “It warms my heart every time you say that. More than any admission of love ever could.”

I smiled, closing my eyes, “I will have to say it more often then.”

He chuckled, bouncing slightly with the noise, “Please.”

I moved my lips to his ear, “I believe you,” my voice barely more than air. He shivered beneath me.

We stayed there clasped in each others arms, time seeming to slow down and become eternal. Sighing heavily, he broke the peace, “Now you have another reason to come away with me,” his voice low and hopeful.

I let loose a nervous giggle, and sat back looking up at him, “I know I told you to ask again after my nap, but do you really think now is the time?” I raised my brows at him, questioningly.

He smiled and raised a hand to stroke down the side of my head, framing my cheek with his palm, “That's why I didn't ask. Merely stating facts.”

I shook my head, “I guess that's true.” A weight started to settle on my shoulders, that I couldn't define, and I shrugged my shoulders attempting to shake it off. “Can we get out of the floor now?” I asked, smiling with my eyes.

He chuckled, and rose to his feet offering his hand. Taking it, I allowed myself to be pulled up by him. “I have something for you,” he said with a daring smile.

Keeping my hand, he bent to dig in the front of his suitcase. Withdrawing some DVD cases, he turned to me, “For research purposes, of course.”

My face began to hurt with the grin that grew there, “Of course.”

So we watched the movies, researching mask ideas from his performances as Loki. I discarded my coat and gloves at the door and even collected my sketch pad before we settled onto the couch together. Cuddled into his warmth at his side, the sun having disappeared from the window a while ago. He stroked my hair lazily, and at some point during movie four of five, I started dozing off. He was saying something about his mask design, but I didn't hear it as the pen slipped from my hand. I hummed welcoming the darkness behind my eyes and was out.

  Saturday proved to be a wonderfully boring day. I didn't open the shop-turning out to be a running theme whenever Thomas was in town-and had a simple breakfast. After showering-separately-we nestled in to restart movie number four and movie number five.

He pressed me about going away with him, but never pushed it. I just kept telling him I wasn't sure yet. I had to decide soon though, the flight was scheduled for tomorrow at 10 in the morning.

Finishing the movies, we had a light lunch-sandwiches-and carefully made our way down to the shop. Luckily the reporters had moved on, for now. I had to cast his face today, he had made comments about wanting his beard on its way to being grown back in before the Chicago Comic-Con.

Pointing him toward a padded chair, the back fixed in a backward angle. “Is this going to hurt?” he asked, not sounding scared just curious.

I giggled at him, “I don't see why it would,” I responded, walking up to him, and placing the powder and water buckets on the table behind his chair. He had settled into it, leaning his head back against the padding of the headrest. Eyes closed, hands clasped together in his lap, he looked peaceful, as I lent over him to apply Vaseline on his eyebrows. I smiled, “The only problem you may have is being silent for an hour.” We had already talked about claustrophobia, so I didn't have to worry about him freaking out while the alginate set up.

He huffed, blowing a vibrating breath through his lips, “That could be a problem.” He opened an eye, to watch me, “You wouldn't happen to know sign language, would you?” He asked, teasingly.

I huffed, “Actually. . .” I stopped arranging things long enough to think about whether I could remember any of it on not. “I took a little in college.”

He grinned, opening both eyes, “Show me yes and no.” I did, knowing these easily. They only involved one hand. He copied them, and I nodded at there correctness, “Perfect. Now just ask me yes or no questions. This way I can't get bored.” He closed his eyes again, smiling contentedly at having resolved the matter.

I chuckled, placing a large black plastic bowl on the table behind his head. I grabbed a straw, and cut it in half. Standing over his face, I cleared my throat. He opened his eyes to look up at me, and cocked a brow, “Alright, now before I put this on your face these need to go in your nose so you can breath,” he chuckled but reached up and grabbed one in each hand. “Now, I am going to put a bald cap over your hair,” he nodded and I turned grabbing one from the table, lifting his head slightly off the rest to place it over his head. “And you have to keep your face neutral and very still when I start to apply the alginate. After I get your face cast, we can fit the back of your head well enough, with some pre-casts I have,” he nodded again.

“You told me all of this already,” he said, with a smart look.

“I know,” I said, working to adjust the cap. “I just have to make sure your were listening.” Making sure the bald cap fit over his ears correctly, I glued the edges down to his face.

“I was listening, little one. I always listen to you,” he grinned.

I blushed deeply, dipping back behind the chair again and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I picked up a cape and drew it around his neck, tying it loosely behind the chair to protect it and his black v-neck and blue jeans-those had surprised me. “Are you ready?” He nodded, whipping his face of all expression and closing his eyes again. Dawning gloves, I poured the powder and water together, mixing them carefully but quickly. Standing over him, bowl in hand, “Alright, place the straws and I need you to hold them very still, until I get the mix around your nose.”

He reached his hands very carefully around the cape, placing the straws and freezing. Quickly, I set to work. Patting the mixture carefully and efficiently on his face. I covered his nose first, so he could drop his hands.

Once I had finished applying the alginate, I removed my gloves, taking them and the bowl to the sink and rinsing them before returning to his side.

“And now we wait,” I said, starting a timer and then pulling a stool up to his side. Sitting down and crossing my legs, I lent forward to place an elbow on my knee, knuckles under my chin. My other arm draped across my thighs, “You doing alright?”

He signed, Yes.

I nodded even though he couldn't see it. Left pretty much alone, even though he was in the room with me, my mind traveled to the issue I really needed to decide on.

“You pretty much don't want to sit in silence, right?” Yes. “Would it be alright if I babble out loud?” Yes. “It won't bother you, that I am not really talking to you?” No.

I sighed heavily, and watched the muscles in his neck strain, as though he was fighting not to reach out to me. I reached out with the arm that had been on my thigh, to brush my fingers across his hand. “I'm alright,” I cooed, watching those muscles slowly relax, as I continued, “I just don't know what to do about your invitation,” I admitted. “I want to go Thomas, I really do. And I guess in the back of my mind I knew this would happen at some point. I am just not sure I was ready to face it, you know?”

He signed, Yes, beneath my hand.

“I am trying to give you an answer, but I can't breath when I think about getting on a plane. It's not so much the plane itself,” I admitted, staring off at nothing, getting lost in my own mind and words. “It really is the height. That's why I choose my apartment,” I chuckled, wryly at myself. “I wouldn't even look at places above a third floor. I couldn't believe my luck when I came across this shop, with the apartment upstairs.” I shook my head, “You know, my mother would say it had something to do with the fact that I fell out of a tree when I was four. But I can't remember that.” I sighed again, stroking the back of his hand, which at some point I had clasped in my own.

I sat silent for a few minutes, lost in thought again. He squeezed my hand suddenly, causing me to snap out of it and blush, “Sorry.”

He shook free of my fingers to sign, No, before threading our fingers back together.

I chuckled, “I never realized someone could be so verbal without words, until I met you.” He squeezed my hand again lightly, and I smiled. “You still doing alright?”

Dropping my fingers again, he signed, Yes.

I glanced over at the timer, “Well you have another twenty minutes, would you like me to change the subject?”

No, he signed and this time something about the way he jerked the sign at me, told me I better not stray from the topic.

I shook my head, “See, expressive even with no words.” I mulled it over for another minute, watching the timer tick away, slowly. When he lifted his hand palm up, I took it, “You know when you were trying to ask, I thought you were going to tell me you didn't want to see me anymore,” I breathed, and he squeezed my hand tightly. “I know, I know. It was stupid for me to think that. If you were going to run away, why would you have come back in the first place, right?” I didn't expect an answer, and continued before he could offer one, “Things haven't exactly gone well for me in the relationship department. I mean, I was afraid to date all through high school. People had known my dad, and they knew or had at least heard rumors about what kind of person he was. I didn't get my first real boyfriend until college. I couldn't be intimate with him. So he dumped me pretty quickly.” I took a deep breath before continuing, glancing at the timer, ten minutes left. “The next one, couldn't deal with the breakdowns and the fact that I always had to have a shirt on,” I chuckled nervously, the dam inside me was no match for Thomas.

“He was the first one to call me crazy,” I whispered, and heard him release something akin to a growl, from beneath the cast.

“Hey,” I warned, “If you mess up that cast because you wanted me to keep talking, I am going to be pissed.” He let out a loud breath through the straws, but offered no other noises.

I nodded, “After that, I only had sex with one other person. I had gotten stupid drunk at a party with some friends. It was a one time thing, and neither of us removed much clothing. The next day, I decided if that was what it took for me to be able to handle it, I wanted no part of it. Sure, there were a few more guys. None that I loved. None that stuck around after they figured out how broken I was.”

I was cut off by the timer, sounding off loudly. The ringing, echoing harshly off the walls of the large room. Dropping his hand, I stood to turn it off.

Leaning over his head, I untied the cape and then grabbed the sides of the cast, “You ready?”

He lifted his hand, with a thumbs up sign, and I began carefully pulling the cast from his face. Lifting it straight up, It came away fairly easily, only catching on the places it had stuck to the bald cap. I simply ripped it off the bald cap, happy it hadn't stuck to anything important. Placing it face up on the table, I grabbed a hand towel, and ran it under some warm water. Ringing it slightly, I placed it over his face, and carefully removed the bald cap, tossing it in the trash. “That will keep it from itching. I have some moisturizer upstairs, that will help as well.”

I turned back to the table, inspecting the cast and making sure it had set well. It was unnerving looking at the inverted cast of his face, but it was perfect. No flaws, cracks, or air bubbles, which meant no need for a re-cast.

Leaning forward in the chair, he drug the cloth gently down his face. Then he stood and walked over to me, “So?”

“It's perfect,” I cooed, still looking at the cast.

He chuckled, “Well, thank you,” I cut my eyes over my shoulder at him, and he gave me a devilish smile. “You offered the opening, darling. I simply couldn't refuse.”

I huffed, rolling my eyes at him, before turning back to clean the Vaseline from the cast, “I meant, I won't have to re-cast.”

“Good,” he said, tossing the towel onto the table beside me, “I have to be honest, that was quite a bit more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“Why is that?” I asked, taking the cast over to my molding station. He followed, the heels of his loafers echoing off the walls around me.

“You are far to open and honest when I am unable to respond or comfort you.” He came up behind me circling his arms around my waist. He nuzzled through my downed hair with his nose, coming to rest at the base of my neck.

I leaned into his embrace, but continued prepping for the molding phase, dragging him along with me. “It's not as scary for me to talk when I think the other person can't hear me. Or when I can't see them. That's why I am good on the phone.”

He hummed against my neck, and I fought off the ensuing shiver, “Why choose fear?”

It was an innocent enough question, that should have had a simple answer. “I don't know, Thomas.” I sighed, finally stilling my hands and turning in his arms to look up into his eyes. My hands resting lightly on his forearms, “I have lived in it for so long, I am not sure how to live without it, I guess.”

Placing his forehead on mine, “You are so strong, Alyse. It kills me to see a woman like you living with the fears that you have. I know it's not something you can change over night, but I do think you should let someone help you with them.”

I scoffed, pulling away to make eye contact again, “I thought that's what you were doing?”

He gave me a small smile, “I am trying. But I may not be able to help with everything. Have you ever sought help from a professional?”

Again, it was innocent, but it triggered far to many memories for me to ignore. Some from past relationships, but not all. I stepped back quickly and far enough away that he could no longer touch me. His face crumpled in on its self and I turned away, so I wouldn't have to see it fall. Why do you keep doing this? What is wrong with you? He is a good man. I guess you would call it the angel of my thoughts, was chastising me. But the devil in there and the much stronger influence, reared its ugly head just as quickly. This is happening because you are too broken for anyone to fix. He is just telling you what you want to hear until he can get what he wants.

I shook my head violently, as I walked to the back of the room to the pre-cast molds, wishing they would both just go away and let me think for myself. “I have,” I whispered, reaching up to pull a cast down from the shelves. Nestling it in my hands, and staring into its generic shaped form, as though it held all the answers to my problems. “They all say the same things,” I sighed, “That I need to talk about it, about everything. Honestly, except for my mother, I haven't been able to talk to anyone about it. Not even my brother,” I finally let my eyes lift to his, where he still stood next to the prep table. He had a hand on the table, all his weight pushed into it, as though if he took a step away he wouldn't be able to support himself. I took a deep steadying breath, before adding, “Until I met you.”

Slowly I made my way back to him, setting the cast on the table, that undefinable weight settling on my shoulders once again. I didn't let go and he didn't look up at me, “You unlocked something in my head. I can't seem to not talk to you now and I am even more afraid than ever before.” His eyes snapped to mine, with worry and an unspoken question that I already knew the answer to. Finally releasing the white knuckle grasp I had on the cast, I turned and grazed my fingers across his cheek. My palm settling against his skin, he closed his eyes and I answered, “Because, Thomas, I have so much more to lose now. If I scare you away, that door you have opened, that dam that you have broken, I may never get it locked or patched again. I have found that you are my key, you are my concrete. What you don't seem to understand is that, if I lose you, I feel as though I will be broken forever.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek and onto my hand, and my breath hitched in my throat. He covered my hand gently with his, tracing his thumb over the back of my hand, “You put far too little faith in me, little one.” His voice cracked and my heart snapped at the sound. He withdrew his hand from the table to mirror my hold, “I am not going anywhere, until you make me,” he pulled me into him, wrapping his fingers into my hair, “I don't care that we only met a short time ago,” his voice hitching with emotion. He trembled, drawing an unsteady breath, as he pressed his head against mine. “When I saw you, I feel in love. And you smiled because you knew.”

It was my turn for tears, rolling lazily down my cheeks and I did smile the weight evaporating from me. These were not tears of sadness, but of joy. A joy I had never known. I nodded against his forehead, and took a deep steadying breath, “I-I believe you,” I said, in a stuttering whisper.

I could see the wide spread grin that graced his perfect lips. It was beautiful and made my heart soar out of my chest. Reforming when his lips found mine, into something more akin to the shape and color it should be, instead of the useless black hole it had been for far too long. Shuttering against his lips, at this new found since of completeness, I pulled away slightly, “We should finish up here.”

His brow furrowed as he lent further away to look into my eyes. I giggled lightly, “I need to pack don't I?”

That mega watt smile blinded me in the most pleasant way. He embraced me to capture my lips with passion once more.

[imaginingit]

crush!jungkook

happy valentine’s day mothafuckas ;)

i love jeon jungkook are u bitches ready

you first met jungkook when you heard the sound of a moving truck beep its way into the driveway next to yours 

now u were always a child of adventure 

ur parents worked a lot so it was basically u at home with ur grandparents and they were the most chill motherfuckers on the face of the planet

and the front door of ur house always seems to be unlocked so u were the poster boy/gal of “adventure is out there!!!”

cue me ugly crying that movie kills m e 

u loved the outdoors and being adventurous 

u were so tomboy and reckless it was hilarious

u drove every single member of ur family insane 

they got called into school one time to u staring at the ground in the principal’s office next to a kid with a missing tooth and bloody nose 

“he tried to hug me” 

to summarize, u loved causing trouble, but have fun in the midst! 

and yes, meeting new ppl!!

and at dinner, u would hear ur grandpops and grandma talking abt the couple moving in next door 

and how they have also have a 6!! year!! old!! son!!

and u could barely keep ur head on the pillow that night bc omg! you can’t wait to have a new friend the same age as u! 

so on that beautiful sunny saturday morning, at exactly 7am sharp, with ur scabby knees, bruised legs, ripped shorts, mismatched socks, run-down light up sneakers, and ur older brother’s hand-me-down power rangers sweatshirt, you marched on over to the driveway to meet your new best friend

and u see a middle aged man and a beautiful woman trying to carry in a couple boxes together and u guessed those were the parents 

and as u were marvelling at how pretty they were, “man, if they look that good, how good does their son loo--”

“MOM, DAD, HELP IM STUCK IN THE SOFA!!” 

u have no idea what came over u but u almost tripped over the tall weeds trying to get into the truck and find the source of the voice 

you went straight to the yellow, flower-y sofa resting in the middle of the truck, with little boy limbs sticking out from under the cushions

u ran up and ripped them away and low and behold, u laid ur eyes on the most beautiful 6 year old there ever was 

and from then on, ur heart decided to plant its FUCKING BOTTOM with jungkook forever

from the first day he met u he literally believed u were the weirdest person he’s ever met 

but without a doubt, you became childhood friends 

like best friends

u saw him naked for the first time when u were 8 and just bursted into his shower at like 8am in the morning 

“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK GET OUT IM NAKED?????”

“omg it’s so smALL?”

he didn’t speak to you for two weeks after that 

your grandparents would always have him over for dinner 

you guys played make believe together and took naps in ur power ranger blanket together 

but it’s also a lot of bullying 

LOTS OF WRESTLING 

taking turns making ugly faces, whoever laughs first has to go and tell ur grandma they pooped their pants and needs help changing it 

“accidentally” slapping each other SUPER hard in the face

“you had a fly on ur cheek sorry!! couldn’t help it!!”

literally the purest and most innocent friendship ever ever ever 

everyday in first grade, when you had reading time, he would be in the seat behind you and fold a tiny little paper plane with a sticky note and throw it at you 

would keep folding them and throwing it at you until you noticed and turned around and yelled at him and got in trouble by your student teacher 

“i hate u jeon jungkook” 

you didn’t really

but it wasn’t until the third or fourth time he kept doing it that you realized there was a message on each of them 

and they weren’t really anything cute

they were just like 

“hey notice me”

“your hair looks greasy from the back” 

“what book are you reading”

“don’t ignore me”

“am i being annoying?”

“yea? good.”

but your favourite was

“i’m glad you’re in my class” 

because he would rarely ever show affection to you because your relationship was made up a lot of the “we don’t need to say anything to know it”, meaning you never needed to straight out express your gratitude to each other for the other to know that you’re appreciated 

main point is you grew up together 

however, after like the fourth grade

you both somehow decided that you were too cool for each other despite the fact that your crush on him was still there 

there was something so mesmerizing about the fact that 

he never truly ever demeaned you as a person??? like yes he was a tease and you guys always did those things to each other

but for a kid, he was always somewhat of a gentleman and would never make fun of you to deliberately hurt your feelings 

unfortunately doe, in middle school, your group of friends completely changed

and although you guys sort of had the same status in school of being popular but very, very laidback, and your groups of friends acquainted with one another, your interactions would be saying hi, making small talk when you were with a handful of other people and smiling at each other as you pass by the halls 

back then, you would walk home together every single day and spend time doing homework in the bedroom of one of you two 

but as the grades went on and the workload increased, you found music and student council and volleyball whereas he found track and basketball and dance

his family went through troubles and he found it difficult to talk to people at times 

and you were so busy with finding a job and saving up for post-secondary that you spent after school with your clubs or in the library studying

timing and interests for you guys were extremely unparalleled and eventually, things just grew apart before high school began 

and oh dear

high school

periods? check. acne? check. hormones? check. grOWTH SPURTS? check.

now, reader, entering high school, you only had one rule: forget. about. jeon. jungkook.

and it wasn’t like he was being a dick or anything to you, you just didn’t find any way that you guys would work out anymore

despite being best friends and literally showering together when you were 7 and your parents are best friends, you just never ever have proper conversations anymore, and things just naturally got awkward

and also life lesson for u guys omg so philosophical what it wasn’t anyone’s fault, you guys just happened to no longer have the same interests or the time to notice each other anymore - people drift apart. it happens. 

and you were so okay with coming to terms with that 

until

“oh my gosh is that jeon jungkook?”

“he... grew muscles?”

“giRL HIS HAIR”

“puberty hit him like a freight train???”

the morning of sophomore year, after a whole first year of properly avoiding him and being absolutely sure that he wasn’t going to get hot (jungkook is juST A LATE BLOOMER OK LEAVE HIM ALONE), you turned your head to the front doors and felt the wind get knocked out of you 

bc walking in with his friends, with the school uniform seemingly perfectly snug and hugging every one of his curves

was jungkook

and for some reason

yes he looked more mature and yes he got fucking MANLIER

but you were instantly reminded of something that clicked in you when you saw that 6 year old boy stuck in the sofa on the very first day he moved in next to you

was it that innocence? was it the charm? was it the hair-swept-away-from-face thing? you diDN’T KNOW 

but girl you were gone again 

and listen 

you dated people in freshman year and guys liked you, but you were never the type to chase or to fawn

you were just different from other girls like you would much rather be the type to be the one playing ball than the one in a miniskirt cheering on the team on the sidelines

that’s just who you are, heck you fucking punched a dude that wanted to hug you and say thank you, broke his nose and chipped his tooth like kk y/n

it was just difficult for you to grasp feelings, truly, but for some reason, this guy has just got you so weak???

and for some other reason, jungkook and the reminder and memories of you guys as kids just hits you like a truck and you’re already head over heels once again

and you go into first period to shake off the thought of him but ofc!!! he’s!!!! in!!!! ur!!! first!! period!!! literature!!! ihml!!!

so you take the seat diagonally in the front of him to make sure you don’t get sidetracked in ur favourite class and drool at him the entire time

oNE DAY

you were taking notes from the board, analyzing and reviewing the literary device and short stories before delving into the actual stuff in literature when you dropped your pencil and leaned down to grab it 

when you saw an arm reach down first 

and hand it to you 

you looked up 

and you guessed it 

biTCH IT WAS JUNGKOOK AND he had such a warm and friendly smile 

and you could barely say anything 

because on one hand you were like oh i’m glad he still remembers who i am??? like ffs? but your other side is like oh my god oh my god oh my god 

so weeks go by and every single day you feel such a burning sensation at the back of ur neck like fufufufuffufufu he’s RIGHT THERE

and jungkook isn’t that type to be extremely boisterous and loud and obnoxious even if he’s hot shit 

so you weren’t worried about him bothering you whatsoever after that like that was a fluke, he was being nice, whatever, it’s done 

a couple weeks go by and you’re starting to feel better now, thinking you’ve got this crush thing under control

until

silent reading time 

you were just assigned a new book by your favourite author! and you couldn’t wait to begin the book reports on these 

so you dove into the world of fire-breathing dragons and mystical knights and creatures beyond reality

when you felt a poke on your neck

and you had no idea what it was? you were so engulfed in the story that you just scratched and left it, not thinking twice

and then you felt it again

it took you a second, but it hit you

and it hit you hard

you turned your head around slowly and your heart was beating so fast

your eyes fall on a small pink sticky note, folded into a plane, dropped on your shoulder

you don’t even DARE LOOKING BAC K AT HIM BC U KNOW UR HANDS AR E SHAKING TOO HARD AND IF YOU SEE HIM YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY DROP DEAD

so you open it, careful to make no noise in the silent classroom

and on the single sticky note it read:

“it’s good to see you again. i’m so so glad you’re in my class.”

you sneak a tiny glance back at the boy behind you, your face flushing with heat and memories 

and from behind his book, he looks up and gives you the tiniest, warmest smile you’ve ever received 

you folded the paper once more and fit it in your pocket and returned to your dragons and knights and witches, all the while smiling like a fool to yourself because maybe, just maybe, you didn’t really drift apart that much at all 

hi guys!! so sorry for the late update, hope you enjoy thisssss:)

also side note: just because it’s valentine’s day (i mean i dont celebrate this) doesnt mean that you need a significant other! buy yourself some hershey’s, make some tea, snuggle up with a teddy bear and a blanket, and switch on some netflix. today is any other day, so don’t demean yourself and your experience with this day because of your status! 

alsoooo don’t wanna get a little preachy but, in this au i kind of hint at the fact that the y/n or reader is someone very tomboyish and doesn’t really seem to find herself chasing after boys. in no way am i trying to vocalize the fact that just because you’re of a certain nature, your personality towards boys reflects that. this is just a fictional work of how one might feel (presumably me lolz) when realizing feelings for someone they truly loved at one point. just because a woman who is normally tougher on the exterior has a sudden soft spot for a boy does not indicate that she’s lost sense of herself or that she succumbs to a boy. just because a woman is a certain way because of a boy that makes her feel different doesn’t mean she is any less of a woman herself. everyone is obligatory to their feelings, and how women choose to express themselves sexually or emotionally to a man they love is their own personal choice as long as they are within consent and are safe. everyone’s decisions and behaviours in love are consensual and their own - that does not demean them as a feminist in any way, shape or form. remember that. 

have fun, y’all, uSE PROTECTION, and i love u!!!