#and 2. they had fencing. n i think i messaged star like. 'hey did you know your city offers fencing?' n she was like 'no <3'

[hua-fei-hua]

*squints out the window at the morning sun* it is Imperative that i be adopted by more femslashers

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[moonlit-imagines]

Road Trip (Part 1)

Scott Lang x reader

warnings:

a/n: this ended up being really long so i gotta write another part

prompt: scott is back in town!...and out again

part 2

Alright, let’s start at the beginning: you were Hank Pym’s “nurse” for some time, only you weren’t a nurse. You were an agent of some sort, using his old tech to do some favors at ant-size. And you loved it.

But Hank’s daughter, Hope, had some bad news about her boss, which is how you and Scott Lang came to cross paths. You needed another tiny partner for this one, one who specializes in B&E.

“Cool beans.” Scott said after you had finally kissed him, it nearly made you regret doing it in the first place. But this day meant so much to you, because it marked the beginning of your relationship, he was more important to you than anything else. Scott and you were an unstoppable team, there was no doubt about it.

“Daddy!” Cassie shouted as she ran into his arms, you had shown up to his ex-wife’s house for a lovely family dinner, but it didn’t faze you at all. “Is this y/n? You’re awesome!”

“Thanks, Cassie. You’re ‘awesomer!’” You replied with a bright smile, then Jim and Maggie walked over to see the two of you. Truth be told, they were so warm and loving, you felt like you were apart of the family. Within three years of being close to the Paxton-Lang’s, you’d participated in countless game nights, several birthdays, family bowling, and more.

Scott’s house arrest was admittedly rough, but you two managed. You had been living together at the time, and you never failed to remind him that Germany was a bad idea! Well, not bad. Just a little stupid.

“I know, I know, I put everyone in danger and now it’s my turn to make dinner.” Scott leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead before lazily shuffling off to the kitchen. “Pause the show! I don’t wanna miss anything!”

“Fineee.” You reached for the remote to pause The Office and headed to the kitchen yourself to keep Scott some company. “I don’t want to make you feel bad or anything, I just want you to know that we’re really lucky I was able to convince the feds that I wasn’t affiliated with Hank’s work.” You dragged your finger along the counter, drawing shapes as you frowned at some of your misfortunes.

“I still can’t believe you were able to talk your way out of it. But I’m glad you did, y/n. I’m so glad you did.” Scott discarded the dinner supplies for a moment to give you a hug, remind himself of all that he had gained in these past few years.

Then you two hopped back into trouble with Hank and Hope yourselves, but most of this part isn’t too important to the story, so we’re just going to skip it. What really matters was that the Pym family was doing quantum realm testing on Scott without telling you. You were busy fixing the goddamn fence Scott kicked through when half of the world disappeared just like...that.

“What the hell..?” You dropped the paintbrush on the ground, splattering a bit of paint on your pant legs. What was going on? You pulled out your phone and dialed Scott ASAP—no answer. Hank? Nothing. Hope? Nope. “This isn’t good, this is not good.” You mumbled before dialing Maggie.

“Y/N? Oh, thank god you’re okay!” She placed her hand over her chest and took a deep breath, you could tell she was already a nervous wreck. “Is Scott there?”

“I can’t get ahold of him, do you know what’s happening?” You were starting to panic, too.

“Not a clue. I’m terrified.” Her voice was shaking sufficiently, you were about to cry just hearing it.

“Where’s Cassie and Jim?” You began to clean up your mess just a little half-assed.

“They’re here, we’re all okay.” Maggie nodded and began to pace around her house while you simultaneously ran into yours and tripped over your pants trying to change. “Can you come over here soon? Like now-soon? I just want to, you know, account for everyone I can.” She asked timidly, you really had become family to her.

“Yeah, I’m on my way right now...” You pulled on on a new pair of pants, shuffling them up with one hand. “Don’t leave your house, okay? I keep hearing crashing. Love ya.”

“Be careful out there. Love you, too.” She warned before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the counter. Maggie quickly burst into full-on tears at this puzzling and nightmare-inducing situation. What if Scott was one of the victims of...whatever the hell was going on? What would she tell Cassie.

You decided to call him again and again and again on your way to the Paxton residence.

Hey, this is Scott. Scott Lang. Leave a message...ka-chow.

“Hey, babe, it’s me again. Listen, we’re all a little bit worried right now because of, you know, people suddenly disappearing and shit. So, uh, gimme a call back. Please. I love you.” You rambled on before hanging up and then called him four more times before arriving. Maggie, Jim, and Cassie were all waiting on the porch as you pulled up, they ran up to you as soon as you parked.

“Y/N, you’re okay!” Cassie latched onto your hips and hugged you as tightly as she could. Maggie and Jim were next, hugging you from either side. But tighter than usual.

“Come inside with us. We need to figure out what’s going on.” Maggie led you in by the arm and all four of you squeezed onto the couch to watch the news update you whenever they could. After hours and hours of viewing the TV, the only information you got was that an intergalactic being had just wiped out half of the world’s population. That you knew of.

“Oh, no.” You covered your face with your hand and tears started to flow down your fingers. Cassie crawled into your lap for comfort, but she needed the comfort, too. As far as anyone was concerned, her father was one of the poor souls that disappeared.

“Y/N?” Jim’s deep voice broke the mourning silence of the room. He had been crying, too, I don’t think any of you would stop tonight. You looked over at him with your wet face and wrapped your arm around Cassie as she leaned on your shoulder. “Would you stay the night here? I think we could all use each other’s company.” Maggie nodded in agreement and Cassie looked up at you, begging with those big brown eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded and looked back at the bright TV lighting up the dark room. No lights had been turned on since you all sat down. No dinner had been made. No one had even gotten up to go to the bathroom. The sun had gone down and the stars were out and despite the dark turn of events, the night still looked so pretty. So for a while, you just stared out the window.

You stayed more than one night. For a few weeks, you slept on the couch. But you stayed for more than a few weeks.

After the snap, you spent exactly one night at your own house before moving in with Maggie and Jim. You felt bad, but they kind of pushed you to do it. You were family, therefore you had to stick together. So you ended up getting your own room and truly being a family. Once things got settled in the world (as much as they could be), you really got into the groove of the roommate life. You took Cassie to school, got groceries, made dinner, took out the trash, signed permission slips, did it all.

“I miss dad.” Cassie mumbled while you drove her to school. You zoned out after you heard her, thinking about the last time you saw him.

You woke up to the smell of waffles, eggs, and oranges. You made your way down the stairs to find your boyfriend making breakfast to OutKast’s Ms. Jackson. Watching him sing and dance with that spatula was adorable to you. Once you caught his eye, he lit up.

“Hey, babe! Look, food!” He pointed at the waffle iron with a grand smile on his face, you walked forward to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“I see that.” You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Any plans for today?”

“Eh, just a couple of personal errands. Shouldn’t take me too long. You?” He asked.

“I think today’s the day I fix the fence you broke.”

“I miss him, too...” You mumbled back and felt Cassie’s hand rest over yours on the steering wheel.

“I’m glad that you’re still here, though. It kind of feels like he’s still with us when you’re around.” She told you, which made you both smile and tear up at the same time. “You’re one of the best step-parents I could ask for. I have to say ‘one of the best’ because Jim is also one of the best. But I mean it. You’re awesome, y/n.”

So that’s the first part, huh? Where’s all the road tripping? Well, I guess this is to be continued, right?

...Right?!

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Bittersweet - Chapter Six.

Whoa hey look at that, it’s actually done. So Italics are flashbacks, okay cool, enjoy this one. Hopefully, it doesn’t take me a month to get the next chapter out lmfao.

Pairing: Merriell Shelton/Reader (femme)

Warnings: mention of sexy times and swearing but that’s about it, let me know if you think I should put something else here.

Word Count: 3850 (longest chapter so far ayy)

Tag List:  @r-ahh-mi @the-almond-dinger @ahkmenrami1205 @itsme690 @xoa-lex @kpopperotp12 @malek-lover @ramibaby @xmxisxforxmaybe​ @sherlollydramoine​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list.

Sleep did not come easy. In fact, it didn’t come at all. 

I had sunk down onto the couch once he left and sat there for what felt like hours. At some point, Chloe had come out and I couldn’t even begin to explain to her what had happened. I was still so confused. One minute we were watching a movie and the next, the door was slamming in his wake. 

Once I had finally crawled into bed, I had hoped sleep would come. Or at the very least he would text me and put me out of my misery. But neither of those things happened. I had laid there, staring up at the ceiling. I wanted to think about where it all went wrong, but my mind was blank. The amount of confusion and shame that I wrapped myself up with was clouding any sense of judgement I had. I don’t know what time it was when I finally cracked and finally texted him. 

I wanted to leave it at that. But of course, my brain began to overthink everything. He did say that he would meet up with me tomorrow, but that, after tonight, really didn’t mean anything. There’s no guarantee he’s even going to want to see me at all. It would be so easy for him to just not show up and we’d never see each other again. It’d be that simple. And as much as that would hurt, I don’t want him to feel like he has to do anything he doesn’t want to do. Despite everything, I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable situation. 

Typical.

Against my better judgement, I picked my phone up again.

I had truly thought I was done, my phone was set aside on the bedside table and plugged in. I had settled in under the covers, hugging a pillow close to my body. My eyes shut but sleep still did not come. I tossed and turned and no matter how many sheep I counted, I did not fall under. I eventually gave up, shoving the blankets off my body and sitting up. The clock, reading a bleary 2:30 AM in bright red, stared back at me, mocking and taunting in a way I hadn’t experienced.

I find myself angry in my sleep-deprived state. Angry at myself for not bringing the subject up sooner. Angry at Merriell for running out on me. And before I can think better of it I’m grabbing my phone again and typing out a few more messages. 

I hate myself as soon as I’m finished, knowing full well I’m not helping my case. Shame and guilt and a range of emotions flood my body as I flop down onto the bed again. I dig the heel of my palms into my eyes hard, rubbing until I see stars. I desperately want to sleep, but my mind is racing and all I want to do is turn back time and change it all. 

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I wake up to my alarm, not even remembering falling asleep in the first place and feeling like I hadn’t at all. I shuffled around my room, slowly but surely gathering my things and tidying my room before hauling it all out to the living area. A brief half-smile at Chloe and I was moving on to the bathroom to freshen up. 

Running on auto-pilot, I take care of the mess that my sleepless night caused and quickly pack up the rest of my items. Every chance I get, I check my phone for any sign of him; anything that could tell me that he acknowledged my late-night anxieties. There’s a tight ball of stress sitting in my chest that only grows with every minute that passes. I can feel Chloe’s concerned gaze on me as I walk back to my room to finish packing and irritation bubbles up inside me.

I hate feeling pitied. And I just know that today is going to be filled with ‘you okay’s and ‘it’s gonna be alright’s. It’s not that I don’t appreciate her checking up on me. It’s that nothing is going to change the fact that I made a complete fool out of myself and I want nothing more than to just forget it ever happened. 

A soft knock sounds at my door just as I zip up my bag, Chloe telling me the Uber’s here and we gotta go. Before gathering my things I hesitantly pick up my phone, debating whether or not I should text Merriell. I should tell him we’re leaving for the airport, but at the same time I want not text him just to spite him; to show him that I’m not desperate or clingy or any of the things I was last night. 

I huff, deciding to compromise with myself. I send off a quick “heading out” and then I’m out the door, throwing my things in the trunk and watching New Orleans fade away from the back seat of strangers Honda Civic. 

It’s bittersweet. I’m excited to go back to school and head back home, get on with my life. But I genuinely enjoyed my time here, it felt like a second home. I can feel another battle with myself start to surface; was it New Orleans that felt like home, or was it Merriell?

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Merriell had just blinked at me when I proposed the idea of the day’s schedule, “Ya wanna just...” mouth worked silently for a moment, trying to grasp the seemingly pointlessness of the idea, “ride the streetcars all day?”

And I had nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, I heard it’s a great way to see the city.” 

He stared at me, eyes flicking to Chloe to see if I was serious, “Or we could just take my car?”

I pushed him playfully, “I’m trying to save you gas money here. Come on it’ll be fun!” 

With that, I was dragging them out of the house to the streetcar stop just down the street and soon enough we were on our way to God knows where in New Orleans. 

I had settled down on one of the benches with Merriell, leaning back, embracing the weight of his arm draped over my shoulders. I took it all in, staring out the window to admire everything. The colourful buildings, the giant oak tree’s creating canopies over the streets and the music that seems to follow us down every street. I chatted excitedly about everything I see, asking Merriell any question that springs to my mind about the history, and he answers in the best way he can.

I turn to ask him yet another question, but my question gets swept away when I’m met with his piercing green eyes running over my face and a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“What?” I asked, my lips spreading to a shy smile.

And Merriell just shook his head, his smile growing that much fonder and I feel his fingers tracing small circles and swirls on my bare shoulder.

“You are too cute, boo.”

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The car drives us further and further out of the city towards the airport. With each passing building, tree or animal that passes, a new memory surfaces. My eyes drift over a cemetery as we pass it, large stone tombs repeating one after another, each of them different in their own ways. In a flash, it’s gone, becoming a tiny speck in the rear-view mirror, but the memory lingers.

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Merriell had grinned mischievously at me, eyes sparkling with devilry and I knew in an instant, I was in trouble. I only had to look at the concrete fencing and old, rusty sign that barely said the word ‘cemetery’ to know what his plans were.

“Merriell, no.” I had begged, pulling weakly on his hand in a futile attempt to change his course of action “Can’t we come back when it’s not getting dark out?” 

The sun was nearly set, casting out last rays of oranges, pinks, purples and reds across the sky as darkness slowly crept over the city. He laughed, pulling me across the threshold and into the cemetery, the atmosphere seemingly changing into that of a ghostly, nightmarish fog hanging over us.

“C’mon, ya can’t be in New Orleans n’ not fear for your life at least once.”

I glared at him, “Bold of you to assume I haven’t.” I grumbled, “I’ve been hanging out with you ever since I got here, plenty of fearing for my life happening.”

He pulled me into his body, arm sliding around my waist as he dragged me further into the eerie lot, past rows upon rows of tombs, “You best be nice to me, I could leave you right here ta’ fend off the ghosts n’ ghouls all by yourself.”

I whimpered at the mere thought of being alone in here and grasped at him a little tighter. He only laughed, one of his hands coming up to cover mine that grips his bicep. His head ducked down to place a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll protect ya.”

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Despite the stress and dejection sitting heavy in my chest, my lips twitch upward in a smile as I recall that night. Merriell had dragged me through the rows of the cemetery, telling me a series of ghost stories he was told throughout his childhood. It was one of the only times he opened up to me about his childhood.

We pass a highway-side swamp, there’s something in the water. Chances are it’s just a log, but it’s enough to send my mind reeling to just a few days prior.

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“Seriously, Mer, you didn’t have to come. I know you get to see these things all the time.” I told him as we climbed onto the large boat.

“Are ya kidding?” He had asked, sitting next to me and placing his hand on my knee, thumb brushing against my skin softly, “An’ miss your first ever ‘gator sighting? No way.” he teased.

His smirk was infectious, browned skin glowing with a sheen layer of sweat as the sun beat down on us. I could only shake my head at him, sticking my tongue out at him defiantly. In return his hand had moved up my knee to my thigh, gripping my skin a little harder.

“Careful,” he had warned, leaning in to whisper hotly against my ear, “Keep sticking that thing out at me and I’m gonna get some ideas.”

I push his head away playfully with a small huff of laughter, “Perv.” 

His arm moved the curl around my waist as the tour began. He had laughed at my too loud gasp that escaped my lips when we saw our first alligator. I had smacked his arm excitedly and gestured for him to give me my camera. My excitement never dwindled with each passing swamp creature we saw and his amusement stayed strong. Even when we climbed off the boat and I was still chatting excitedly.

“...and did you see how big that last guy was?” I shook my head, looking back at him, “And you get to see these things all the time?”

He had nodded, a soft ‘sure do’ leaving his lips as he reached for my hand. I sighed happily as our fingers intertwined.

“I wish I could do this every day,” I said, exaggerating a dreamy tone to get a laugh out of him. But when I had looked over at him I was met not with laughter and amusement but instead with soft eyes and an almost sad smile.

“Yeah, me too.”  

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My eyebrows furrow at the end of that one. He had looked just a little sad. And maybe I was totally overthinking it but maybe he had really just planned this to be a fling the entire time. It wouldn’t be unreasonable. My mind is stuck on the idea. If he had planned it to end suddenly and abruptly, why would he be so upset about it?

I’m broken out of my thoughts when the driver pulls up to the airport. My phone vibrates in my lap and it takes everything in me to not pick it up right away and check-in. My heart pounds and hope swells in my chest, relieving the crushing weight that had resided there previously. It had to be him. Was this finally my answer? 

I took a breath and forced myself to slowly turn the phone over. 

And just as fast as my hope had climbed, it crashed. The text, from my mother, had read a simple ‘have a safe flight, text when you land’. I swore silently at myself for letting my hopes get so high. I find myself refreshing my texts just to see if I had missed something from him. But there was nothing. 

My body moves on its own, getting out of the car and grabbing our bags from the trunk before following Chloe through the airport. Despite myself, my eyes scan the crowds, hoping desperately to find that head of wispy curls I had grown to be so fond of even though a part of me knows he’s not here. He’s not coming. It’s too late. 

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“You will be the goddamn death of me.”

His words startled a laugh out of me and the smile on his face only widened as I shift my body closer to his. Our skin is sticky with sweat and the cold air bites our naked bodies but he pulls me closer nonetheless. 

“I’ll start planning your funeral.” I had joked, resting my chin on his sternum so I could look up at him. 

He smiled down at me and I took a minute to just look at him. I admired the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile, the way they lit up with his laughter. I took in the way his hair sits as an unruly mess of curls on the top of my head. I brought my hand up to play with them, just because I could. 

“Why you always playin’ with my hair?” He asked, laughter seeping into his voice as he tried to jerk his head away from me.

I tugged his head back towards me with my palm, “I like your hair.” I said simply, “It’s fun to play with.”

He just shook his head but let me play with his hair nonetheless. Meanwhile, his fingers traced patterns on my bare shoulder. We basked in the silence, the only sound being our breathing. 

“Can I ask ya somethin’?” He asked suddenly, his head turning to see me better. When I nodded he continued, “What made you take a chance on me?” I had looked at him, confused, so he went on, “I mean, a few days ago, when I asked for your number so I could take you out. Why’d you say yes? I could’ve been some crazy Louisiana lunatic.”

I laughed softly and gazed up at him, no doubt with actual heart eyes, “I don’t know.” I admitted, “I almost said no, but I just...” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts, “Something about you said it’d be worth the risk.” 

“Worth the risk.” he repeated softly, looking away for a second, “Never got that one before.” 

I had looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?” 

He had shaken his head, smiling down at me. A curl had fallen loose at my insistent twisting and twirling, hanging down on his forehead.

 “nothin’.” He said and leant down to kiss me softly, “I’m glad ya took the risk.”

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We make our way through security. The line is painfully long, to pass the time and bring my phone out, planning on playing some games to pass the time and get my mind off the mess that my life had become. However, what I end up doing is re-reading conversations and looking through pictures and ultimately breaking my own heart again and again.

“Y/n,” Chloe sighs, and when I look up I’m met with the pity I hate so much, “Stop torturing yourself please.”

I pause, just staring at her for a second before I shrug and look back down at my phone, “It’s my coping mechanism, I never said it was healthy.”

I can feel her gaze on me as I continue sifting through the media of the past two weeks. Her hand grabs mine softly and she squeezes it, “Please don’t let this asshole take over your life like this,” she pleads, eyes soft and caring, “He was great, but honestly if he doesn’t want to work for it then that’s his loss and he should be the one staring longingly at a picture of you.”

“I know,” I sigh heavily, running a hand through my tangled hair, “I know it’s his loss I just-” I let out a grunt of frustration, “He was everything I was afraid to let myself want, y’know? And I finally let myself chase after that and it all turned around on me and-” I have to stop to swallow a lump in my throat.

“I just want to know what I did wrong.” I finally get out, it comes out as a sad croak.

I’m pulled into a hug, Chloe murmuring into my hair that I did nothing wrong and I want to believe her. But Merriell isn’t here and he isn’t texting me back and I’ve never felt crazier or more pathetic in my entire life. So clearly, I did something wrong.

She had to let me go when we get to the front of the line, but I quickly pull myself together, glancing at my phone one last time before I throw it in a security bin.

Once through security, we find our gate and sit down, our carry-on piled at our feet. Chloe goes to find us food, giving my hand one last squeeze before she’s off. I continue to stare at my phone, at the unanswered text messages. My eyes flicker back and forth continually between the time and the text thread, willing those three little dots to pop up before we get called for boarding.  

Chloe comes back with food that I barely touch. It’s good, but it’s early and my own thoughts are making me nauseous. I pick at it, still keeping an eye on my phone’s blank notification screen. There’s no way I could go back a see him now, even if he did show up, but I’m still hoping for a text, a phone call; any way to get some kind of explanation or an answer. 

I don’t get one. Before I know it we’re boarded the plane, seatbelts light on and all cellphones are to be turned off. I refresh my texts one last time before turning it off with a heavy sigh. 

I knew it was too good to be true.

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The smell of eggs and bacon filled the air of Merriell’s apartment, the early morning sun crept through the cracks in the blinds and soft jazz played over a record player that sat in the corner of the living room. It was early, a little too early considering how late we had stayed up the night before. But Merriell had mumbled something about eggs the night before and it was the only thing on my mind. 

I stood in front of the stove, flipping our eggs when a pair of hands found their way around my waist and a pair of lips were soft on my shoulders.

“Mornin’” 

His voice was laced with sleep, accent coming out just a little thicker. His lips kissed a soft trail from my shoulder to my neck, his breathing hot on my skin.

“Good morning.” the sound of my smile crept into my voice as I begin plating our food.

“I’m surprised ya found my records.”

I turned around in his grasp, handing him a plate, “Well you didn’t hide them very well.” I teased, glancing over to the large stack of boxed records, “C’mon sit and eat your eggs.”

I pushed him gently towards the round kitchen table. Before I could get him to sit down, the track changed and Merriell was taking our plates, setting them down on the table. He tugged me into his arms and towards the center of the room.

“Dance with me.” A grin split across his face, eyes hooded as they looked down at me.

I huffed out a breath of laughter, “Merriell, the eggs-”

“Can wait.” He finished, his voice was soft and tender, “I wanna dance with ya. Ya look so good in my shirt, making me breakfast.”

One hand found my waist, moving to the small of my back while the other holds my arm out. I can feel the fabric of the shirt brush across the top of my thighs and I became very aware of my state of undress. I tried to remove my hand from his grasp to tug it down, feeling suddenly very self-conscious.

“Hey...” he had said softly, grabbing my hand again and brought it up to his mouth for a soft kiss. He looked beautiful in the soft morning light, sunlight playing off the colourful hues of his eyes and I found myself a little lost as we sway softly to the music, “You are beautiful.”

I had looked away, shaking my head softly and my hair falling in front of my face. A hand came up to brush the strands behind my ear and tilt my head up to meet his gaze. He had leant down, muttering a few last words before connecting our lips in a soft kiss.

“Absolutely beautiful.” 

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I fall asleep on the plane and I dream of him. Of humid New Orleans air, tanned skin and green eyes that sparkle with mischief. Part of me doesn’t feel like any of it was real. That I dreamed the entire trip and I was still at home in my bed. Another part of me still can’t believe he didn’t show up. The automated voice tells us that the active runway has been turned off, our phones can be used once more. 

I turn it on but don’t bother looking. I don’t care anymore. I’m miles and miles away from him and all I want to do is go home and lay in bed until school starts next week. Chloe and I take our separate cars and part ways, she promises to text me soon and we’ll have a night out with the rest of our college friends. I feel like I’m in a daze, not totally existing at the moment but functioning enough to get myself home safely.

It’s not until my suitcase is thrown haphazardly into the laundry room and that I’ve crawled into my bed that I actually check my phone. 

My heart drops as my eyes land on his name and I’ve never opened my phone fast enough. I wanted an explanation, something to put all the questions I’ve been asking myself to rest. But the only thing I get from his message is more confusion, more hurt and a fresh wave of angry tears.

~

(Chapter 7)

[xiaobaemoon]

Shining Blood: A Taeyong Mafia Au- Part 3

A/N: It is finally here! I feel so sorry for not finishing this earlier. Is someone even still reading this story? I’ll make sure to update it more frequently and if you wanna request a one shot or a reaction, just send me a message! I’m open for everything. I’m sending you all my love and light-Lena

Part 0/ Part 2

Word Count: 754 words

Light started to flash the small van as Y/N opened its door. Without saying a word she seated herself   next to her boyfriend. Not many moments later, darkness filled their small space again. „Are you feeling alright?“Johnny asked, even though it was not certain if he meant his boss or Y/N.  Taeyong looked in her direction. Y/N did not gave an answer, she was just starring out of the window, lost in her thoughts. „We will drive for four hours“, Taeyong announced to break the awkward silence. No reaction. He could undertsand her silence, it was a lot to take and he knew that his behavior was wrong, but he needed her. Guilt, which did not leave him once since the start of their relationship, grow stronger inside of him. His chest felt as heavy as a piano. Y/N did not seem to notice his struggle, her attention was still focused on the passing streets beside her. What was she thinking about? Was she thinking about her brother , about positive memories they shared before his dissapearence? Or was she thinking about a way to leave Taeyong? Y/Ns life would have been easier without him, hands down.  

„Taeyong.“ The voice of Doyoung made him fall out of his thoughts. „I think you should sleep a bit“, his friend and fighter demanded in a brotherly voice.“ We will have an exhausting day tomorrow.“ He also wiggled his  left eyebrow in the direction of Y/N.  She wasn‘t looking out of the window. Her head was carefully rested on her shoulder and her chest moved evenly. She was sleeping.  Taeyong nodded and thanked him. Then, he laid his head against the cold glass on his right hand side and closed his eyes.

The sun was going down, coloring the wide sky in a deep, yet friendly looking pink. The hot and humid weather of the day got finally replaced by a cooling wind. Taeyong looked around him. Underneath his bare feet he cold feel the already cold gras and wiggled his toes. The view in front of him was blocked by a mountain. „What are you looking at?“ a soft voice asked. You could hear, that the person whom the voice belonged to was smiling. Taeyong looked to his left and saw her. As expected, a huge smile covered her face and made her huge blue eyes shine. Her long black hair was slowly moving in the wind. The body of the woman was covered in a pastel yellow dress. In her arms she hold a small child, not older than a year. „Just at the beautiful view.“ Taeyong answered and gave his wife a kiss. This was exactly what he had dreamt of his whole life. Nothing could  ruin this wonderful and dreamlike moment. „She is finally sleeping“ the woman smiled, looking at her child. Both of the new parents loved their little princess as deep as possible and they had promised themselves to never let her get hurt. „I will bring her inside.“ Taeyong grabbed the baby and walked with her towards their summer cottage.

A  horryfiyng scream pierced through the house and Taeyong was suprised , that the little girl he had just tucked in her bed, was not waken up by it. As fast as his legs made it possible Taeyong run outside, his hands as hardas stone. He was thinking of a stone which fell down from the mountain or maybe even of an wild animal, but what he saw was way more cruel.

„Hey, wake up.“ Taeyong opened his eyes and moved his hands over his face. He had been crying. „We are at our destination“ Y/N announced. She must have been awake for an hour or so, her voice sounded normal, but the smell of of a stressed and bad sleep was still upon her. Taeyong nodded , opened his seat belt and stepped outside. Cold air was brusing his face. He looked at the huge black mansion in front of him. Other than his mansion, this one had no garden. It looked more like a prison and not like the living place of a wealthy family. A fence made out of steel circled the building. It was clear that whoever would enter this mansion would not leave it, but Taeyong had always tried to do things, which other people thought of as impossible. „Let‘s rescue Y/N‘s brother!“ Johnny threw his fist in the air. Y/N nodded as her lips formed a shy smile. „Yes,“ Taeyong added.“ let‘s get revenge.“

[waif-of-the-night]

Believer

Pairing: dean x reader, mentions of Sam

Word count: 1757

Summary: Dean never though that he could love someone again, but that was before he met her. 

The fic is from Dean’s POV.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, angst, character death

A/n: There may be a second part to it because I already have some ideas about it, so let me know if you’d like a second part. I really like what I wrote and I’m sorry (you’ll know why). I’d say ‘Happy reading’ like always but I know certain things that you don’t. *evil laughter*

Masterlist

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I never thought I would be feeling this way about anyone ever. Not after Lisa. I just couldn’t afford that. Another heartbreak. Another what if. What if I wasn’t a hunter, what if this wasn’t my life. But I never searched for the answer, I never wanted to. I was too afraid of the answer. I was sure; sure that this was going to be my life. A life with no white-picket-fence-happily-ever-after. No future. I was done falling in love, done trying, done holding on to people. But then I met her. And she changed my whole damn world in a way I could never imagine. I remember the first time I met her. 

Sam and I were on a job in Colorado. It was a ghoul hunt. We had called Bobby for some help and he’d been keeping tabs on us since. The ghoul was fast and clever, almost had us. He had Sam already knocked out on the floor of the dirty dungeon like place. He had his hands wrapped tightly around my neck. I was struggling in his grip, all the air already knocked out of my lungs. I knew I needed to do something, and fast, but before I even thought of something, I saw the light vanish from its eyes. His grip loosened on me, allowing me to fall free on my feet. When I looked up, the ghoul’s head was dropped on the ground in front of me, as his body followed. And behind him, I saw her. Her hands still up in air, holding the machete tightly in place, her face now sprayed in crimson red. Her hands fell to her sides as she let out a sigh as a faint smile started spreading across her face but instantly fell when she saw Sam limply sitting with his back supported with the wall. She hurried towards him and fell to her knees trying to check him for injuries. Fortunately, he was fine, just a little blow on his head that knocked him out but now he was coming back. “Are you okay?” she asked him. “Uh yea, yea.” He mumbled. He looked around for me and gave me a smile when he saw I was alright. She helped him up because apparently I was too busy in watching her. We went back to a diner where we could have a talk with her in a ‘little less depressing place’ as she said. She told us that when we didn’t return Bobby’s messages, he got worried so he sent her to look for us. “He was worried about you guys, so he called around. I was the closest hunter around therefore he asked for help and well, here I am.” She sat across from me holding her drink in her hands. “That’s great. Thanks for the help.” Sam thanked her giving her his boyish smile. “No problem.” She replied, smiling back as she took a sip from her drink, emptying the glass. “Uh I don’t think I caught your name.” I said to her to which she gave me a side smirk. “I never gave it to you.” She winked at me. With this she started standing up as I watched. I could see Sam grinning at me from the sidelines. “I got to go now. But I’m sure we’ll meet again someday and hopefully when no one’s dying.” She waved a last goodbye and then she was gone. I remember thinking that maybe I’ll never meet her again, and feeling sad about it? I was confused about why I felt that way about someone who I had just met. But maybe that’s because my heart deep down already knew that she wasn’t just someone. I met her again a couple months after, and this time I was adamant at not letting her go without telling her name. Well, eventually I was successful in getting her name; and her number as an extra bonus. The next few months I met her almost every now and then. There was something intoxicating about just being with her. Her laugh was contagious. I could swear that just having her along with us made me feel better, braver. I was driving down a deserted road, and she was sleeping in the passenger seat next to me. Her head rested on the window. I looked down towards her sleeping figure. There was no doubt that she was a brave badass hunter, but when I saw her sleeping, she looked so ....soft. Fragile even. I wanted to touch her, but it felt like if I did, I might break her. There was this thing about her. No matter how dark the situation, she always managed to beat it. And yes, Sam and I have faced some situations ourselves, but we could never do it the way she did, that is, without losing hope. No matter how crappy life got, she managed to smile through it. Soon enough we invited her to live with us at the Men of Letters Bunker. I told her and myself that it was for her safety, but obviously that wasn't all. She hesitated at first but agreed soon. Now, that she started living with us, my feelings grew more prominent. I wasn’t able to ignore them anymore. I think I was in love with her. I don’t think there was a specific moment when that happened, I think it was the little things, but boy did I fall hard. She was nothing like me. I have always been practical and down to earth. Being in this life made me like this. But not her. She still believed in destiny and magic and true love. I thought of myself as a monster that didn’t deserve to be saved. But she always used to say, not all monsters do monstrous things ;God knows where she got that from. I feared that I didn’t deserve her. We parked Baby in the middle of the clearing near town. It was something her and I had started doing whenever we had free time. It was her idea when we did this the first time. I climbed out of the car and rushed to her side and helped her out. She said something about being a gentleman. We sat at the hood of the car staring at the clear night sky that was filled with hundreds of stars. We would just sit in silence like that for hours sometimes, without saying a word to each other. She said she liked doing this because she got to look at the most beautiful sight in the world, it made her feel good. I liked doing this for the exact same reason. But the most beautiful sight for me wasn’t just the starry sky. My version of the most beautiful sight included her. The twinkle in her eyes as she stared at the sky, her lips spread across her face in that faint smile of awe. I would stare at her for straight up minutes at a time shamelessly like a creep. One of these nights I gathered my courage up to confess all my feelings to her. My heart couldn’t keep them in anymore. I needed her to know. And I still owe Sam to force me to do so. Because the feeling when her lips touched mine for the first time, the feeling when I heard her say that she loved me too...I could never explain it. I could only thank all the gods in the world for making me the luckiest man alive. How could such a small, hardcore person turn my life this much around? The way (y/n) danced around in my AC/DC t-shirt which didn’t fit her at all, but damn she still looked so beautiful. I didn’t know it was even possible to be so beautiful. She would tease me with the last slice of pie but always end up sharing it with me. She had to be the most perfect person in the whole world- I did not understand at all. She came out of nowhere, a perfect slice of fucking heaven right into my life. And most of all, she gave me hope. For once in a long time, I could see something in the future which was good. She saw me at my worst and still though I was the best. She made me believe again. We are at a church now. I don’t remember how things got to this. I can still feel the presence of the small velvet box in my jacket pocket. I was going to ask her to marry me. But now I am barely holding myself together. My back is supported by the wall, hands limply lying at my sides. My vision is blurry, but I can make out that someone is running towards me. I think its Sam. “Hey, hey, hey. Hang on buddy. Please.” He said. Panic clear in his voice. He was sitting down in front of me, holding me up by my shoulder while desperately muttering my name. I hear another set of footsteps enter. “Dean!” It was (y/n). She sprinted towards me dropping to her knees instantly. Hot wet streaks of tears streaming down her cheeks. “Dean! No! Please look at me!” she cried, cradling my head in her eyes. “(y/n)...” I forced myself to speak. “I... I’m...di..” she cut me off. “Hey! Shut up! You’re not dying, you listen to me? You’re not dying!” she said. I coughed out some blood to speak more clearly this time. “I...I wanted to tell you something...” “Okay, I’ll listen, but not now. You get better and then you tell me that okay? You’re not... you’re not going anywhere. You hear me?! ” I finally understood that happily ever afters were never made for someone like me. Maybe this was destiny's way of saying that I don't deserve her. I collected whatever strength that was remaining in me, “(y/n) I love you. I love you so much. But... It's better this way. I don't deserve you. Promise me you won’t try to bring me back and that you’ll move on. I ...” “What?! No! Dean? Dean?!” she cried. She shook my body and cried over and over, begging for it to move, but it didn't. I had started believing again, but I guess that wasn’t enough. She was my heaven, but maybe I was her hell. She’ll be better without me, I told myself, as I let myself go.

Part 2(A)

[violecentstrs]

Our True Love - Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you very much for all the follows, likes and reblogs, guys. I really am happy to see people enjoying my stories so far. It makes “my heart full of glee”. Hehe. I extended the story a little bit more so that I can give it more action. So, thank you all so much for reading my stories and I hope you enjoy it! (Sorry in advance for any grammatical errors in my stories!) 

Previous Chapter(s): Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Blood, tears and a little sexy Bucky Word count: 2,878 Summary: Reader and Bucky doesn’t get along well after his marriage to Rosaline. Will her friendship with Bucky last or will they crumble and fade?

★ ★ ★

The stars are sparkling in the sky.

The nights are getting colder and colder. Autumn had just arrived and I love it so much. I sit in my apartment with a blanket wrapped around my body. A war movie playing on TV while I work on my laptop. I hear the message notification on my phone. When I see who it is, I smile.

Richard [09:52PM] – Cherry, what are you doing?

You [09:53PM] – Watching a movie while refining a report. Yourself, Croc?

Richard [09:54PM] – I’m eating some cereal for dinner. You even work after hours, huh?

You [09:55PM] – Cereal? You didn’t cook for dinner? Haha. Of course, to keep my life easy in the office.

Richard [10:00PM] – I’m tired. I’ve been running around from one interview to another. I might end up working for the modelling company after all.

You [10:03PM] – Really? That is wonderful. We should celebrate together!

The doorbell to my apartment scares the living daylights out of me. I look at the time on my phone. Who on Earth would be coming at this time?

I quietly approach the door after grabbing my pepper spray. In case there is a psycho standing outside of my door. I peek at the little peephole on my door. My breath caught in my throat. It is Bucky.

I unlock the door, keeping the slider on to double check. I widen my eyes. Bucky’s blue eyes caught in mine. He is wearing his combat suit with his weapons still strapped around his body.

“Y/N…” He says.

“Bucky! What are you doing here?” I ask. He lets out a sigh.

“Long story.” I bite my lower lip. Without any more words, I close the door back and remove the slider. I open it back up.

“Come in. I got all night.” I invite him inside. I look around the hallway to make sure no one is around. I lock my door back, watching Bucky making his way towards the couch I was sitting on before. I walk over to the kitchen and bring over a glass of water for him.

When I returned, Bucky’s metal arm is over his eyes. His lips quivering a little. When I sit on my spot, Bucky jerks away surprised. He clutches his chest before breathing out. I look at him worriedly as I hand him the glass of water. It’s been a while since I saw him like this.

“Bucky, what happened?” I ask him. He drinks the water in one go. He’s very nervous and troubled right now.

“Rosaline and I had another fight.” He answers simply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He leans down and placing his hands over his face. I watch him carefully, waiting for him to continue.

“I got home and saw a bunch of her friends in the living room. When I checked for her in the kitchen, she was with another man. I burst; getting angry thinking that she is cheating on me. I made a fool of myself in front of them. She lost it, saying how she’s tired of dealing with my problems and kicked me out.” He continues. I can see the little tears spilling down his eyes. He must’ve felt so bad.

My hands shiver as I hover it over his back. I wasn’t sure if I should hold him or not. I was still mad at him for shouting at me the other night. But now that he came to me, feeling upset and troubled, I couldn’t bring myself to leave him be.

I take a deep breath before wrapping my arm around his shoulders. The second my arm made contact with him, he sits up, grabbing onto my wrists while looking at me surprised. He’s very jumpy.

“It’s ok, Bucky. Calm down.” I say as his hands tightens around my wrists.

I can see the tears in his eyes. The trail of it down his cheeks. My heart twists at the sight. I’d never thought I’d see him cry like this again. The last time I did had been so painful and heart-breaking. He lets my wrists go before returning back to the position he was in.

I reach out to hold him in my arms once again. I can feel him leaning into me when I did. I stroke his hair gently, remembering the way I would always do on nights similar to this. I can smell the sweat mixed with dust in his hair. It must’ve been from his mission.

“Bucky. You shouldn’t just assume things so quickly. She cares and loves you. I know that your anger comes from your exhaustion. But you need to learn to be a bit more patient.” His body tenses in my arms but he remains silent. I run my hands up and down his right arm to comfort him.

I freeze when I come in contact with something wet from a ripped part of his sleeve. I pull my hand up to look at it. My heart stops. Blood. I get up from where I was sitting to look at his flesh arm.

Blood is soaking through the torn up sleeve. I panicked. Why didn’t I notice this before?

“Bucky, you’re bleeding!” I say. Bucky looks at me before looking at his arm.

“Oh. I didn’t notice that.” I didn’t wait to hear that stupid response. I rush into the bathroom to grab a couple of towels and a bowl of water. I run into my bedroom to grab the first aid kit. Bucky watches me as I run back and forth to grab the items.

“Y/N, calm down. It’s just a small wound.” He says, miserably failing at trying not to worry me. I take a pair of scissors and carefully cut the sleeve off his combat suit. He has many others like it anyways.

I examine the wound on his arm.

“How did this happen?” I ask him, worried. He shrugs. I give him an angry look. That seems to put his senses back together.

“It must’ve been when I jumped down over the fence with the metal spikes. My arm must’ve gotten caught on one of them.” He answers. I let out a sigh.

A scratch about 6 inches long running down from the top of his arm. I wipe the damp towel on the wound to clean the dried blood off. Thankfully, the cut is not so deep that he needs stitching. A flash of memory hits me. 

“I’ll be fine, Y/N. There’s no need to worry about it.” He says, moving his arm. I hold it down and rub alcohol over the wound. He didn’t flinch. This reminds me of that night when Bucky wrapped my finger with the tissue. 

“You worry about my pin sized injury last time. You have no rights to tell me I shouldn’t worry about this even worse injury on your arm. You’re lucky I have some supplies in my house.” I answer.  I can feel Bucky’s eyes on me as I work on his arm.

When I finished dressing the wound, I let out a satisfied yet worried sigh. There’s no more blood coming out of the wound, but if it wasn’t treated, it could have been infected.

“Okay. It should be fine. Next time tell me when you are in—” When I turn to look at Bucky, his face was inches away from mine. My heart jumps in surprise and I fall backwards onto the floor.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling me back up on the couch. I nod slowly before reaching for the bloody towel to wipe my hands off. I can feel my face warm up when I remembered how close his face was to mine. What was he trying to do?

I reach down to clean up the mess I had made. The first aid kid box had tipped over and spilled all of its contents on the floor. I panic way too easily. I need to learn how to control my reactions sometimes. His tired eyes remaining glued to me as I clean up the place.

“Bucky, are you okay with pasta?” I ask when I returned from the bathroom. He looks at me confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t eaten right?” I wipe my hands on my shirt. He takes a moment to think. I sigh before returning back to the room.

I pull out Steve’s shirt and pants from the storage room. Sharon and Steve stayed over one time since their house was getting reconstructed. He left them here and I kept on forgetting to give them back. I guess they ended up being of use after all. I hand Bucky the towel, shirt and pants. He looks up at me, blinking.

Man, this guy is in a completely different world right now.

“It’s Steve’s. He left them here when he had the house redone.” I say. Bucky takes the clothes quietly.

“Wash up. Eat, then rest. Go. Don’t get the bandages wet.” I order him while making my way to the kitchen.

Since the kitchen is open, I can still see him on the couch. Five minutes passed before Bucky even moved a muscle. I watch him go into the bathroom and hear the water running. He’s a mess. Poor Bucky.

I probably need to talk to Rosaline about Bucky. It can still work. Though, it does make me wonder why she would react so drastically. She used to take care of Bucky’s mental state anyways. But then again, that was when he was Winter Soldier. So the side effects of the never ending brainwashing must be new to her.

I hear my phone ring from the living room. I run over to it to see who it was. Richard. Shoot. I forgot to text him back.

“Hello?” I answer as I walk back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Cherry Princess. Are you so into your work that you forgot about me?” Richard’s laughter on the other line is as sweet as a caramel candy.

“No. Something came up.” I answer back while transferring the meal onto a plate.

“Oh yeah? What is that? Screaming at agents over the phone for the atrocious spelling mistakes?” I chuckle.

“No. It’s Bucky.” I say, peeking over at the bathroom. The water is still running. The silence on the other line was loud and clear.

“He’s there?” After a few moments, he asks. His voice suddenly changed into a little harsh one.

“Yeah. Apparently he and Rosy got into a fight.” The sigh on the other line sounds so dreadful.

“And he comes running to you?” He asks. His voice sharp like a blade. What just happened to that caramel candy voice?

“He’s my friend, Richard. I need to help him out.” I say, whispering into the phone when I hear the water stop running.

“Until he wants more out of you.” He says harshly. I blink.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.  

“I’ll tell you later. I need to call Rosy. Bye, Y/N.” With that, a click.

“Richard?” I call out, but only the beeping end call sound is all I hear. I look at the phone confused.

“Who was it?” Bucky’s voice scares me. I look at him before shaking my head.

“Just Richard.” I say while bringing the food to him. His expression turns dark again.

“What did he want?” I wave him off. I really don’t want to pour oil into the fire. Bucky silently takes out a chair before looking at the food.

“You made this?” I bite my lower lip and nod. It wasn’t bad when I tasted it, but I don’t know if Bucky will like it himself. My heart races when he takes the first bite. I wait in anticipation to hear what he might say. His face lights up.

“Wow, you’re still good at cooking.” He says while taking another bite. My chest fills up with joy. I’m so glad he likes it.

“Huuu. I’m glad.” I smile at him.

I place the mattress in the empty spot right by the TV. I put one of my pillows and blankets on it. I can hear Bucky washing the dishes in the kitchen as I set up the place for him to sleep. I pat the mattress a little. It was dusty when I took it out of the storage room.

“I can just sleep on your couch, Y/N.” Bucky says as he wipes his hands on the towel. I just realized how Steve’s shirt seems really tight on Bucky. His pecs, biceps and abs practically bulging through the shirt. I blush at the sight before shaking my head.

“No, you are not. Not with your arm banged up like that. I have an extra mattress anyways.” I say before getting up. I pull Bucky and sit him down on the mattress. I walk back into the kitchen to prepare some warm glass of milk and honey.

I hand him the glass when I returned. Bucky looks at me.

“As usual, Sergeant.” I say. He smiles up at me. He grabs my hand along with the glass. He is drinking the milk with my hand still holding onto it. My heart beats wildly in my chest at this sudden action. 

With his damp hair loose on the sides of his face, little scratches on his cheeks, light blue eyes staring down at me and then Steve’s tight shirt on his body; oh God. He looks very sexy. When he was done, he licks his milky lips still looking at me.

My insides shiver at the sight of him like that. I pull my hand away along with the glass quickly. I scurry into the kitchen to wash it. I can feel my chest on the verge of bursting. I glance over at the living room and see Bucky lying down on the mattress.

Keep yourself together, Y/N. 

I jolt awake when I hear a loud yell coming from outside. I jump off from my bed instantly and pick up my pepper spray again. I walk towards my door carefully, hearing another yell coming from there. It sounds like Bucky. I gasp and immediately run out to the living room.

Bucky is thrusting around on the mattress. The sheets had come off and was soaked in Bucky’s sweat. I throw myself on top of him to stop him. I shake him violently.

“Bucky!! Bucky!!”

When he wakes up, his pupils were dilated. He rolls us around and pins me down against the mattress. His metal hand reaching quickly over for the pistol on the coffee table, pointing straight at my forehead.

I could have sworn I saw my life flash before my eyes when Bucky did that.

“Bucky it’s me!!” I yell again. His blue eyes returning before he gasps. He pulls himself off me and drops the pistol. He coughs before falling backwards and leaning on the coffee table.

I’ve never seen Bucky like this before. He normally would just pin me down, but never pull out any weapon. I sit up, feeling the back of my shirt a little damp from my own sweat. He holds his hands against his face. I can hear little gasps and see how his hands are shivering so much. He’s crying again.

“Bucky…” I reach out to touch his arm.

“I’m so sorry…” He says behind his hands. My chest tightens with pain. I hear my heart shatter at the tone of his voice. He’s in so much pain right now… Oh, Bucky.

I immediately wrap my arms around him. I pull him in and hold him tightly.

“Shh. It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine, Bucky.” I reassure him. He cries silently as his arms wrap around my waist. He pulls me tightly while crying onto my shoulder. The heart-breaking sound of his whimpers makes me cry myself. It hurts so much to see how hurt Bucky is.

He falls asleep after an hour passed. He had his grip on me tight, so I couldn’t pry myself away from him. I didn’t want to anyways. I stayed there with him, stroking his hair continuously while my other hand is held tightly in his. Even though Bucky had been crying before, I really feel at peace with him sleeping against me like this. I look out into the night sky through the window.

The moon is lighting up inside of the living room a little. Despite his size and height, I didn’t feel crushed underneath him. He must’ve positioned himself just right so he won’t suffocate me when he fell asleep. I watch Bucky’s sleeping face against my shoulder. 

His face looks so tired, angry, sad, confused, but most of all, broken. I feel the tears spilling down again.

With his history of being used by HYDRA, then having to deal with the after effects of it. Nightmare after nightmare of crimes he never wanted to commit. Regret and pain of remembering people die at his own hands. Hands he wasn’t able to control because of the serum. Now that he finally had a chance at happiness, his problems came back and took that away from him.

Give Bucky a break, please…

★ ★ ★

A/N: I teared up a little while writing the last bit of this. It made me really think of the suffering Bucky has gone through. I hope y’all know what I’m talking about. Heh. Anyways, thank you for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

Next chapter coming soon!

Tag(s): @ipaintmelodies @goldwanderer @hairdye-enthusiast @bexboo616 @chipilerendi @typical0001

[smokydrake]

“Friendly Neighborhood Watch” | Young Sam x Reader | FLUFF

WARNINGS: suggestive, language

WORD COUNT: 6,485

DESCRIPTION: There are four days left of school before Graduation Day. It’s so goddamn obvious you and your childhood best friend Samuel Drake feel the same thing for each other… but you won’t say anything because you don’t want to risk your established friendship, and Sam doesn’t want to say anything because he can’t risk giving himself away. But when two people are a perfect match for each other, some things are bound to be revealed sooner or later.

This is technically Part 2 of “Trick of the Light”, but you don’t have to read that in order to understand this (regardless I’ll still leave the link to it below). I’m really pleased with how this one came out because it just makes my heart so happy like aw Sam :,)) It switches between Reader and Samuel so sorry if it’s kinda unclear as to whose POV you’re reading from haha *sweats intensely*

And I also wanna tag @le-ephemere @hyperionbabe @a-n-g-e-l-frommynightmare and @nataliarmnov because you guys are SO NICE and left such sweet comments on Part 1 ily please enjoy

Trick of the Light

Inspired by this song (Rather Be With You - Sinead Harnett)

The only reason why you were with Rafe Adler in the first place was because you were lonely.

Well, more like the one guy you were ever seriously in to never paid attention to you the way you wanted him to, and conveniently, Rafe Adler transferred to your shithole high school and you thought he’d be a lovely distraction.

Except that, despite getting together with Rafe, you still couldn’t get over your one true crush.

The boy next door, your childhood sweetheart, your best friend: Samuel Drake.

You remember precisely when you started crushing hard on that boy. You were in middle school, still in your semi-awkward tween stage, lost in the masses of equally confused prepubescent boys and girls trying to find their places in the social hierarchy. Sam was one of the popular kids; he and his little brother were both notorious for their mischievous methods of cutting class and their bright, cheeky grins. Always the one with extravagant (although mostly exaggerated) tales of adventures, it was expected for girls and boys to flock around Samuel Drake. His heady Bostonian voice and loopy grin managed to light up any room he walked into; Samuel Drake had this laid-back, passionate, and approachable dynamic.

And on top of that… it was almost painful how good-looking he was.

So when senior year of high school rolled around, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d be quarterback of the varsity football team and “Class Clown” in the annual yearbook. You can’t remember how many girls approached you, asking for your help as wing woman because you were his best friend. It was pathetic. One, because you felt used and grew wary whenever girls were friendly with you, two, because, well, you liked Samuel Drake, and you refused to be lumped into the same absurd group of those fanatical girls.

You knew it was petty. Using Rafe, who was a pretty decent guy (although occasionally quite full of himself) as a twisted form of self-preservation and a defense mechanism against rejection. Hell, it was plain shitty: you kissed him the night of the homecoming game knowing that the star quarterback was watching just to prove a nonexistent point. Sam probably didn’t even care that you were dating Rafe. He was always messing around with other girls, girls who were cheer captains and homecoming queens, gorgeous girls equally as popular as Sam.

It hurt you to feel this way for Sam; it was impossible for him to be romantically interested in you because you guys were best friends. There was nothing you could do. You had a thing for him, and it wasn’t like those little things that went away with time; it was one of those big things, the ones that you couldn’t control.

-

A light knocking on the wooden table interrupts your carefully-curated method of memorizing the historical timeline of the ancient Persian wars for your upcoming final exam.

Looking up from your history textbook, Samuel Drake, wearing his stupid half-smile and his stupid denim jacket that you’ve poked fun of countless times (yet love to see him in), lazily slides into the empty lunch table seat in front of you. You pull an earbud from your left ear.

“Hello? Anyone home?” He waves at you ridiculously, peering behind nonexistent windows and doorways.

“Wrong house,” you answer wryly.

Knowing that he now has your attention, Sam scoots forward in his seat and leans his chin on his knuckles. “Hi neighbor,” he says simply, almost suspiciously.

You raise an eyebrow, holding up a hand to stop him from saying anything more. “Not so fast. I know you’re up to something.”

He laughs a hearty laugh, and you feel his shoes underneath the table bump against your ankles when he leans back. Something skips in your chest. “You are too smart for your own good, y'know that?”

A smile triumphantly crosses your face. “I do know that.”

He narrows his eyes jokingly at you, and then shakes his head. “No one likes a know-it-all. You goin' to Nadine’s grad party tonight?” He then frowns and turns his attention to your open textbook. “Jeez, Y/N. We’re graduating in four days. And you’re still studying?” He flicks through a couple of pages, losing your reading spot.

“Hey!” You swat at his hands and yank the book from his grasp, earning you a poorly hidden grin. “You know, colleges can still decline acceptance if you have shit grades. So yes, I am studying. And thanks a lot, you lost my page.”

He winks at you. “No problem, I do my best.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re anything but upset. This is normal; Sam being happy-go-lucky about everything that you rarely ever see him serious, and you being the one constantly trying to keep him out of trouble. It is just another day spent with Samuel Drake and his carefree nature, dealing with his playful antics, and secretly being head-over-heels smitten with him.

“Hey but for real. Please go. I don’t wanna be lonely,” he pouts at you.

You sigh, abandoning your history notes. “I dunno. She’s kinda intimidating.”

At this, Sam scoffs. “C’mon, Nadine’s the nicest person ever. Sort of. But whatever, I heard there’s gonna be a shit-ton of booze,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ew, stop that,” you scrunch your nose, reaching out to hold his squirming eyebrows in place with your thumbs.

“Why? You don’t find it attractive?”

“No!” Your scowl grows into a giggle, and Sam laughs at your laughing. You shove his shoulder once, playfully, and then he pinches your dimples with a thumb and forefinger. “Fine, I’ll think about it,” you finally say.

Sam raps his fingers on the edge of the table. “Sweet. Where’s Rafe?”

“He’s in the library studying.”

“Not here with you?”

You shrug, unconcerned. It didn’t even cross your mind that Rafe isn’t with you until Sam had brought it up.

You two sit at the table quietly, unsure where to continue with conversation. Normally, there aren’t many awkward silences between you two. But, ever since that night, things have been a little… different.

The night you caught Sam watching you touch yourself.

In all honesty, what you did was partially in the spur of the moment and partially somewhat thought out. You had heard the ping of your text notifications, one unread message from a Sam Drake, and you just happened to have noticed him at his window, merely a dark figure shadowed by his almost-closed blinds. Driven by your high, you found his gaze and held onto it, turned on by the fact that he was watching you. Little did he know that it was him in your thoughts, doing all sorts of unsayable things to you.

You both have yet to acknowledge it. So far, you’ve been acting as if nothing happened. Sam is doing the same. You’re not sure what will happen if you say something about it, and part of you doesn’t want to know. But what you do know for sure is that there are new tensions between you and Samuel Drake, and they cannot be contained for long.

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but then the shrill ringing of the lunch bell interrupts his train of thought. He closes his lips with a tight smile and gets up from the table. “Later neighbor,” he calls to you with a flash of a smile before disappearing into the crowd of chattering backpacks and textbooks.

-

“Hey, what are you supposed to wear to grad parties anyway?”

At the sound of her voice, Samuel’s ears perked up. Dramatically, he turned in his swivel chair to see Y/N leaning out the window of her room, her elbows resting on the white windowsill and lips pressed into a perfect pout. Sam’s blinds were up and his window was open too, giving him full view of her room a couple of meters across from his. Her hair was curled and pinned up with rollers, and Samuel thought she looked stupid adorable.

He checked the digital clock on his desk. It was 6:40pm, and the sun was drowning itself in the invasive night sky. He shrugged at the girl next door. “Hell if I know. Check that Pinspiration site, or whatever.” He threw a crumpled math worksheet through his window at her, which she batted away with ease, conditioned by years of practice.

“Ha, nice try. It’s in your yard,” she teased, pointing at the small wad of paper near the bottom side of his fence. Then she made a face at him. “Wait, did you seriously just say Pinspiration? Sam, it’s called Pinterest.”

He grinned quietly, pretending to turn his attention back to the video playing on his desktop. He heard her groan and mutter something under her breath before turning away from the window.

He cherished moments like this: how casual they were with each other. But time was ticking. They were graduating in just a handful of days. Afterwards, summer would fly by in the blink of an eye, and then she’d be gone, off to an Ivy League in the south. He had gotten a football scholarship to a college on the East Coast, and he calculated; he’d be 2,660 miles away from home.

Away from her.

It stabbed at his chest every time he thought about it. He was happy here. Of course, he was also excited for college, but he knew that there would be no place like home. It was only a matter of time before they would have to part ways, and he wasn’t sure how well he was going to handle good-byes.

Something light smacked against his hair, hitting the floor at his feet with a small thunk.

“Take that, Samuel Drake!” Her voice rang again, this time louder and full of glee. She had chucked her own paper ammunition at him, catching him off guard as he swam through his dismal thoughts.

Sam turned to the window again and raised both eyebrows. He reached to swipe the crumpled ball from the ground and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at her as she did a little dance of victory. She had taken the rollers out, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders and curved against her rosy cheeks. He bit his lip out of habit, wishing that he could keep her forever.

“Now pay attention to me,” she huffed. “How’s this?” She called to him, pushing back her powder blue curtains so that he could get a better look. She was wearing a sleeveless top and a casual pair of jeans, and he admired how she could make something so simple look so effortlessly sexy.

“Great,” he replied coolly, masking the effect she had on him. “You ready to go? I can give you a ride.”

He hoped she would say yes. He drove a motorcycle: a silver Suzuki 500cc that he absolutely loved to death. He had only taken her on it once. He remembered distinctly what it was like to have the icy wind slice at his skin while her warm arms were wrapped tightly around his body. Those were probably the two best feelings in the whole entire world.

But she just shook her head and waved a dismissive hand at him. “It’s okay, my friends are taking me tonight. I’ll just meet you there?”

“Sure,” He said back, getting up from his seat to stretch his arms and to hide his disappointment. “See you in a few.”

-

Nadine’s party is huge. You’re not talking about the house itself; it’s a cookie-cutter two story like yours, but the party… it’s the biggest bash you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

Her house is brightly lit, thudding energetically with the beat of R&B and crowded with cars parked dangerously along the curb. Teenagers line the front lawn, in the open garage, on the roof; it’s almost chaotic.

“Shit, this place is sick,” your friends squeal, eagerly linking their arms through both of your elbows.

You and your small group work your way inside the house, pushing through the huddled groups of people, some sober, some utterly wasted. Couples hide behind not-so-hidden corners making out, and somewhere at the back of the house, you can hear ecstatic hollering after a round of beer pong. You can’t help but laugh; Nadine’s is something straight out of a 90’s high school chick flick.

You and your friends are finally in the living room, and everywhere you look, there are just people, more people, and even more people. Coincidentally, you make eye contact with Nadine Ross, prom queen two years in a row and salutatorian of your class, lounging on her sofa with her enviously attractive group of friends. She gives you a welcoming grin and you return it to the best of your abilities, secretly giddy at the fact that you’ve been acknowledged by the Nadine Ross.

Your friend at your right elbow tugs at your arm and points across the room. “Ooh, girl, there’s your man,” she coos.

For a second, you think of Sam. Your heart does a little dance, but when you turn your gaze, it’s not who you’re thinking of. Instead, your darkly handsome and lean boyfriend, Rafe Adler, stands in the kitchen, chatting with a couple of his lacrosse teammates, bumping fists and red Solo cups. You blush when your friends tease you, embarrassed by their suggestive remarks.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” your other friend jokes, bumping your hip towards Rafe in the kitchen. Before you can even refuse, they’re gone, off mingling with others in an instant. You sigh, secretly amused by their playfulness as you wiggle your way through dancing bodies and sloshing alcoholic drinks.

You’re about to call out to Rafe when you catch the familiar tuft of messy brown hair and easy eyes from the corner of your eyesight. Samuel Drake leans against the dimly lit wall a little to your right, barely visible behind some vaguely familiar band kids passing around a blunt.

Butterflies float happily in your stomach. Rafe forgotten, you turn towards Sam’s direction with a grin on your face. You make your way through the band kids, peering over tall heads before you spot him.

Him and Crystal.

You stop in your tracks just before the two of them notice you. Sam has his hand on her waist and she is close, very close, to him that her blonde hair is pressed against his jawline.

Crystal was only one of the many pretty girls Sam has been on and off with in the past. She was one of the recurring ones, the ones that you saw Sam kiss goodbye on his motorcycle, saw Sam argue with, saw Sam make up with, saw Sam bring back home in the dead of the night. Crystal was his problematic favorite and your problematic problem.

You feel a sharp plummet in your stomach. You want to unsee them together, but you can’t. So you retreat quietly, disappearing from their line of sight.

As you turn to weave through the band kids again, your mood makes a significant turn for the worse. You feel left out and ignored. Sam invited you here tonight, for what? He looked happy with Crystal. Seeing them together served as a reminder that he saw you, vulnerable and dressed in nothing but moonlight, but still felt nothing for you.

You are almost frustrated to the point of tears. Blinking your eyes furiously, you push your way to the kitchen where Rafe is and wave him down. He takes notice of you quickly, and you are thankful for the distraction.

“Y/N,” Your boyfriend calls, reaching out to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “Hey stranger,” he smiles easily, handing you his cup in hand.

You take a swig at the drink and peck his cheek. You know it’s awful. You’re playing Rafe, keeping him around so that you won’t feel lonely. What you have with him is nothing like what you have with Sam; the chemistry isn’t as natural. But you’re tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t love you the way you love them. You’ve been playing this game of chase for too long… maybe it was time to put it in the past.

-

It shouldn’t have mattered, should’ve it?

Y/N was dating Rafe, and he was dating Crystal.

No, “dating” wasn’t the right term for it– Samuel was talking to Crystal. They weren’t official or anything like that; just a boy and a girl looking for something to keep themselves occupied with in the meantime.

Why was he so annoyed?

He had to admit. He wasn’t expecting Crystal to be at the party, let alone get distracted by her presence and easy conversation. What he really wanted was to get a chance to spend his final high school nights with, Y/N, the girl of his dreams, and then take her home on his motorcycle, where he’d get the chance to tell her how he really felt.

But it was harder than it sounded.

Occasionally, he would look around while Crystal was talking, casually searching the perimeter for Y/N. She was nowhere in sight… oh. There she was.

Y/N was in the kitchen, drinking whatever cheap liquor Nadine had lining the cluttered countertops. Rafe was there too, knocking back shots. Samuel noticed that she was drinking heavily, laughing with her boyfriend inaudibly over the pounding music.

She was never like this.

Samuel knew that Y/N wasn’t the best at holding down her alcohol. Two or three shots, tops. But at the alarming rate she was going at… things were not going to end well.

He was getting worried, anxious. What was she doing? She usually knew her limits… she was always the sensible one between the two of them.

“Hey, Sam.”

Samuel turned to look at Crystal who now stood further away from him. Her small arms were crossed and her languid body faced his, but her blue eyes were elsewhere. He followed her line of sight, and saw that she too was looking at Y/N in the kitchen.

“You have feelings for her, don’t you?”

Her tone wasn’t accusatory, nor was it angry.

Samuel didn’t know what to say. He had never said it out loud before.

“It’s really not that hard, you know. To tell her.”

Samuel laughed dryly at this. He didn’t mean for it to sound so scornful, but it did. “What? I don’t know what--”

She shook her head at him apathetically. “Stop. Just stop it.”

He looked at her. Really looked at her. Crystal was a girl that he had spent a lot of time with only because the girl he really wanted wasn’t for him to call his. Now, looking at her, he realized that she not only was she attractive; she was observant, keen, and probably better off without him.

She only stared back, and the two of them stood there, looking at each other with mutual dispassion.

“You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam. It doesn’t help anybody.”

She was first to walk away, and Samuel knew that she wouldn’t be coming back. And he was thankful for that in a bittersweet way.

-

“SHIT, THE COPS!”

“EVERYONE, GET OUT!”

You’re not exactly sure what that means.

Oh, wait– something bad. You should maybe leave, like now.

Rafe is gone. You don’t know where he went; it’s like he disappeared into thin air. Your friends are also nowhere in sight, and all you can see are people scrambling, jumping, and running everywhere.

It’s hard for you to focus; everything around you is disoriented and your vision spins every once in a while. You try to get up, but your knees give out and you end up stumbling against the kitchen counter. You giggle, tipsy from those shots you and Rafe did together just a second ago.

A tall, familiar body approaches you. “Y/N! We gotta go!”

Oh.

Him.

Sam Drake. That stupid boy next door that gave your heart way too much grief. You want to be done with him and his pretty face and mild smolder. He’s looking at you now with frantic, annoying puppy eyes. Why did he come back for you? Where is Rafe?

“I don’t wanna,” you try to say, but your voice comes out in a tiny whisper.

“Nope, not an option,” he says as he wraps an arm around your abdomen and hoists you up. He mutters something under his breath that you can’t catch as he leads you out of the house. The two of you are outside on the front lawn when you hear the sirens and see the illuminated red and blue flashing.

“Damn it,” Sam curses under his breath, his eyes frantically searching around. “C’mon, this way.”

Lacking any serious concern, you hobble after Sam with your hand in his towards the back end of the street, where his red and silver motorcycle parks under a low shade of tree branches. You notice its ruggedness and classic build, and you take note of the familiar characteristics of its proud owner.

Sam swiftly hops onto his motorcycle. He snaps back the kickstand with his heel and flicks on the headlight. He gives you a sideways glance and jabs his thumb at the small space behind him. “Get on and hold tight, you hear me?”

You nod sleepily. Slowly climbing on behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his back, happy to be so close to him. He smells like a fresh shower and cloudy engine smoke.

Muffled shadows of running people scatter all around in flashing red and blue. The motorcycle jerks forward with a sputter, and then the two of you shoot off, the sound of whining sirens gradually dissipating into the dark. You gasp, taken aback by the hurtling momentum. Your surroundings race by at hyper-speed, but your eyes can only process things one at a time. Everything around you is a blur of color; the green traffic lights, the glowing red shop signs, the flickering yellow of the streetlamps. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head.

“Everything okay back there?” Sam shouts to the air, turning his head slightly to look at you. You blink your eyes, trying to keep them open. He’s the one thing you can see clearly; his hair is tousled by the wind, his freckles are pinkish-red from the cool air, and his hazel eyes are fiery and alive. A neon fusion of color frames his face, reminiscent of a static VHS glitch.

You try to tighten your grip on him, but your head dizzies. Your muscles don’t comply and your arms start to slip from his waist.

“Hey, hey!” One of Sam’s hands catches your wrists, holding them in place. “You keep your arms around me, a’right?”

“Mkay,” you hiccup and your forehead knocks against his shoulder blade.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re giving me a heart attack.”

“Sam, I wanna go home.”

You vaguely feel a gentle squeeze of his hands on yours, a silent physical “okay”. Sam kicks up the speed, and then the two of you dart off again, weaving between dark cars on the streets, leaving behind a trail of rubber and smoke and sleepy laughter.

-

He felt alive.

His motorcycle reverberated violently underneath him, hungry for speed. Faster. He needed to go faster.

Samuel shifted the motorcycle up a gear, giving him less resistance and more traction. He accelerated noisily around the corner and through empty lanes, his heart pounding furiously at every drunk giggle that erupted from Y/N’s lips.

God, he felt so good.

The air lashed at his face, whipping his hair furiously against his forehead and neck. He couldn’t help it; a smile crept up his face, soon followed by a loud whoop of exhilaration. Y/N laughed even harder at this, and Samuel did it again, basking in the thrill of the night and her voice.  

The arms around his stomach tightened.

“Wait, waitwaitSamwait–“

Samuel instantly gripped the brakes, screeching his motorcycle. “What? What??”

“I’mgonnathrowup–“

“Son of a–!” He tried his best to pull over quickly, and Y/N hopped from of the backseat before he could come to a full stop. She hurried to the nearest bush at the edge of the streetlight and immediately started to heave, coughing up her night’s inventory of alcohol.

Samuel followed, catching her hair just in the nick of time. He pulled it away from her face, rubbing a palm against her hunched back patiently.

When she was finally done, he helped her up by the crook of her elbow and kept a hand at the dip of her waist to steady her. “You good?”

She nodded, blinking her dark eyes. “Oh man. Do I regret,” she groaned.

Samuel exhaled heavily, a fuddled wave of aggravation and worry washing over him. Without thinking, he said disdainfully, “do you now?”

She gave him a look; he couldn’t tell if it was confusion or annoyance.

“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam was taken aback by the tone of her voice; was she angry? He raked a hand through his hair. “You know you can’t hold your drinks, but you go and knock back like, fifty shots.”

Wrong move. Her eyebrows pulled even closer, and she pushed out of his arms. “It’s a party, Sam. I can do whatever I want.”

He knew that arguing back was just going to make her even more irritated, but he knew she was wrong– or he thought he knew she was wrong– and that was starting to make him mad too. “You’re never like this. Did Rafe make you do them or somethin’?”

“No! Rafe’s not like that. He’s my boyfriend.”

“A pretty shit one.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothin’. Forget it.”

She shifted from one leg to the other impatiently. “No, Sam. I hate it when you do that. Just say it.” she pressed angrily.

There was a thin line between the two of them, and he was very close to crossing it. He contemplated whether or not he wanted to. “You’re being blindsided, Y/N.” He warned.

She scoffed, dismissing him. “There you go again.”

Suddenly, he said, “Then tell me why he just left you in the kitchen when the cops came, huh?”

He had struck a nerve. Y/N gave a short huff of realization and her shoulders tensed harshly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know that.”

He waved a hand frantically in the air and let out a humorless laugh. “Seriously? Y/N, I saw him! That prick cares about nobody but himself.”

Something simmered behind her eyes, and instantly, Samuel regretted his words.

Shit, shit--

She raised a shaky finger at him. “Don’t.”

She was hurt now and he couldn’t put his emotions into words in fear of giving himself away. It was as if every time he tried, it only escalated into something offensive. It frustrated and angered him even further.

He closed his eyes and sighed, thinking of how to diffuse his mess. “I’m just… worried about you.”

She went quiet for a bit, and it troubled him.

“Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to have fun, okay?”

He looked away from her, over her shoulder. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but he had actually pulled over near his workplace: the small boat dock at the edge of town. They stood at the larger part of the harbor where the metal railing separated the city from the sea.

Crystal’s words hissed in his ear. You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam.

Y/N said nothing further, walking a little ways from him along the wooden floorboards of the dock. On she went, a pretty figure framed in starlight against the dark ocean.

It doesn’t help anybody.

His feelings were getting out of hand and he was running out of time… but he was afraid. He didn’t want to lose what he had with her already; what more did he want? Y/N was there whenever he needed her, to catch him when he was on the brink of danger, to smile and to laugh at his less-than-funny jokes. This should be enough, he told himself. Stop being greedy.

But Samuel Drake… he couldn’t help that he wanted more than what he had. That was just in his nature; “satisfaction” was a loose term in his range of vocabulary.

He had to let her know. Somehow.

He sucked in his breath. “Did you do it on purpose?”

She stopped walking and turned around, standing about a meter or two away with her head tilted slightly. “Do what on purpose?”

Uh, definitely not how he wanted to start. Oh well. It was too late now.

He swallowed his pride and went for it. “That night, at the window. You know what I’m talking about.”

She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. What was there to say?

He didn’t press her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to tell her; he was terrible with words. They just never came out the way he felt in his heart. He didn’t know where he was going with this… maybe he just wanted hear her say that she knew and that it wouldn’t work out and then they could move on with their lives. Just like that. Simple.

He was about to tell her to forget it, to pretend like it never happened, but then he saw her nod once, curtly, hiding secretly behind her wind-tossed mane.

He was awestruck.

She rocked on the heels of her feet. “It kinda just… happened. I saw you, and I just…” she trailed off, biting a nail as she avoided his stare. The distance between them felt foreign, vast.

Samuel cleared his throat. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I mean, I know it was wrong.” She gave him a puzzled look, and then he caught himself. “Wait, no– like, what I did was wrong. Not you,” he stuttered, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. He felt his face burning.

She giggled at this, brushing back the wisps of hair from her forehead.

Samuel grimaced, but her smile was contagious. “Y’know, I can just pretend like I didn’t see anything.”

She looked at him, and again, he couldn’t read her expression. She looked perplexed, unsure… contemplative?

She took a step forward.

“You don’t… you don’t have to.”

-

Damn him, that Samuel Drake. He knew how to press your buttons and piss you off, even if he didn’t mean to. But this… this caught you off-guard. He was being brash, impulsive-- curious. He had asked you about that night two weeks ago, openly, giving you no space to dodge and flee.

What would happen if you told the truth?

“You don’t… you don’t have to.” You murmur, releasing your words cautiously into the air.

Did he hear you? Did you say it loud enough, or did it get lost in the faint crashing of waves underneath you two?

No– he definitely heard you. You watch his eyes widen and his head jerk back in surprise. Was he appalled? Uncomfortable?

Oh well. Too late now.

You suck in your breath. “I mean, if you don’t want to. Do you… do you want to forget?”

Ugh okay. That came out really weird. You’re about to tell him to forget it, nevermind, you meant to say something else–

His voice is barely a whisper. “Are you kidding?”

You frown. “No.”

You watch Samuel Drake, the confident and boisterous and handsome Samuel Drake, as he presses his hand against his forehead and ducks his gaze away from yours.

“I haven’t been able to get you outta my head for the past two weeks.”

…what?

Oh no, he was repulsed. You stammer, “I-I… jeez, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it made you feel that uncomfortable–”

“What? No, no– that’s not what I meant,” he drops his hand and takes a step towards you.

Then what…

“Listen. Y/N.”

You watch as he grabs a fistful of his dark hair– you know what that means. He’s at a loss for words; he wants to say something badly, but he just doesn’t know how.

So you wait, focusing on the rhythmic thumping in your chest. You don’t push him; you know Sam Drake and his habits and his tendencies. You know that he’s not the serious one in your guys’ dynamic. This is different for him– this is difficult for him– and so you let him work it out at his own pace.

You notice the precise moment when he does. His eyes flick up, realigning with yours, and then his throat dips as he swallows hard.

“I… I might have a thing for you. Kinda.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You pause briefly to consider your words.

“That’s funny. Because me too.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

A little sound of disbelief escapes your lips. He catches it, and returns it to you as a louder chuckle. You both are dumbstruck, jittery, and at a loss as to what to do or say. This is actually happening.

“Wait, wait-- what about Rafe?” He suddenly asks, pointing a finger at you.

You cross your arms. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Crystal?”

He drops his hand. “Okay.”

And then he’s laughing. And you start laughing at his laughing, because his laugh is just that infectious. He reaches out to you with outstretched hands and you walk over dizzily, fitting snug right between his arms. He’s warm and you can hear his heart beating powerfully underneath his gray Henley. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you know, deep inside of your heart, that this is where you belong.

-

Samuel told her.

It wasn’t super dramatic or sweet and a part of him regretted telling her so plainly, but he did it.

And the best part was, she felt the same way.

He couldn’t believe it. It took him years to finally tell her, and now he regretted not doing it sooner. He wanted to explode; he had never felt so raw and alive. It was as if a burden heavy as lead lifted from his shoulders and was replaced by a flitting, floating, airy happiness that sent him up and up and up.

“Since when though?” He asked the top of her head.

She tilted her chin up, resting it against his collarbone to look at him. A cheeky grin danced on her lips. “Uhh, yesterday.”

“Very funny.”

“You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“Please tell me?” He gave her that look, the one where he gazed at her broodingly through his eyelashes and up-turned eyebrows. He used it often to combat her witty and much too smart quips.

It worked on her like a charm and she said, “Eighth grade.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned her.

She glowered. “I’m being serious!” She poked a finger at his side, and he jerked into her, causing her to give him a winning smirk. “And you?”

“Don’t remember,” he mumbled, distracted by how soft her hair was against his neck.

“Are you sure? Like, really sure?” She mumbled back.

He snapped a finger, feigning recollection. “Sophomore year. When you almost fell outta your window climbing into mine. You were tryin’ to hide from your mom when she found your report card you threw behind that old bookshelf.”

“Wow, okay. Can you be a little more specific?”

He grinned at this. “You knocked over my entire Indiana Jones figure collection climbin’ in and that’s how I knew you were the one.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before burying her face in his chest. She sighed a long, blissful sigh, and Samuel knew exactly what she felt in that very moment.

“You know, I’m gonna miss you in college.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘me too’, Sam.”

“Me too, Sam.”

She poked another finger at his side, and he scowled, squeezing her cheeks between his free thumb and forefinger like he did whenever she was playing around too much. “Hey watch it, neighbor, that hurts.”

“Sorry, neighbor.”

Then, gradually, she got on her tip-toes and looked right at him, their noses touching, and suddenly, he was all too aware of her. Something in her eyes changed; they were all at once curious and unfocused. He soon realized that she wasn’t looking at him anymore– she was looking at his bottom lip. He watched as she bit her own.

They stayed like that for some time, until it became unbearable. Neither of them wanted to make the first move… it was exhilarating just as it was scary.

“Do something Samuel Drake,” she whispered to him.

Her words were like an activation code; a euphoric green “GO” sign lit up his brain upstairs. So then, slowly, he brought his lips to hers, his fingertips tenderly resting just against her jaw. It lasted only for a fleeting second. Her eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, and Samuel wished that he could capture the moment and keep it safe in a glass bottle for him to relive again and again.

No other person made him this gushy and weak in the knees. She was a magician of sorts and he was her favorite trick. He would do anything for the girl standing here in front of him, and now, he could do it confidently.

“Can you do that again?” She smiled against his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll do that again.”

And Samuel kissed her once more under the moon’s watch and the ocean’s breath, and nothing else in the world mattered more. They both knew that in that moment, there was no other person they would’ve rather been with, and this was more precious than they could’ve ever imagined. He no longer felt afraid knowing that she was there for him to call his own, and she no longer felt overshadowed by the boy who had always thought she was unattainable.

It was a match made by the stars, and they watched protectively overhead, safeguarding the two under the youthful evening blanket.

[shaecanilao]

JUST LIKE THE MOVIES EP. 2

A/N: This is supposedly 2/3, but will I really be able to finish everything in 1 last chapter? HAHA 

“Scott?” Dani looked at the guy from over the fence.

It is really Scott.

“Hi Dani!”

“Hi. Nice to see you here.” Dani looked at me and decided to get out of that awkward situation leaving me by myself. “Anyways, I better get a stick to fish out that ball before Donut gets upset.” And, she’s out.

“I see you’ve been friends with my boy right here.”

“Right, yeah. Fluf…I mean Hunter is a really good dog.”

I walked towards Fluffy (he’s still more of a Fluffy than Hunter to me, that will never change!) and patted the dog’s head. I threw his ball and he made a run for it.

“Do you play with him regularly?”

“Well, it was really just me and my dogs before. He probably got jealous since he had no one to play with so he started coming here. So, I played with him.”

“He likes you.” Those eyes again. Damn Scott, it’s 7 in the morning.

“I like him, too.” But, I played along. “You know, I just had to ask. Don’t you live in Hollywood? How are you…how are you here in Boston?”

“Someone’s searched about me.” He smirked.

“First of all, everyone knows that. I didn’t really have to ‘search’.”

“Really, huh?” he laughed. “But to answer you, that’s just a diversion to get away from paparazzi.”

He seemed to be telling the truth so I didn’t pry anymore. I just wanted to get out of that situation and let it sink in. We’re neighbors. What happens to our plans now?

“Anyways, I gotta go back in. I’ve got some errands today so I better rest up.” He nodded at me and I went on my way. “Donut! Bagel! Let’s go back inside.” I opened the door and they followed me inside while Dani is right by the kitchen waiting for me.

“Why is 12 here?!” she asked way too loudly.

“Can you stop calling him that? He may hear you! And, I don’t know! I should be asking you that. You’re his producer. Why don’t you know where he lives?”

“I’m his producer. I’m not his agent nor assistant. How am I supposed to know that? We’re not even friends. We’re acquaintances at most. Why don’t YOU know that?”

“I’ve slept with him once. I’m not gonna ask him about those stuff!”

“But why do you look so worried? Aren’t you supposed to be happy right now? More 12’s for you.”

“Oh my god, stop saying that word.”

She laughed at me and stood up. “I’m so excited for you, Lil.” She winked at me.

Dani’s right. I should be happy! But, I don’t want to get too involved with Scott. He’s still my favorite actor after all. He still makes me nervous and all logic gets thrown out the window when he’s around me which can be bad news at times.

I go back to work the following day and it was a chance for me to avoid Scott all throughout the week. I diverted my attention to work and fixing all the contracts that I need to sign for the movie. I’m lucky my boss is lenient and supportive with what I’m doing. It also helps that I work in PR so getting all those connections through the movie will get me a better leverage in my job. Dani’s right again. Agreeing to this movie stint did open up a lot of opportunities for me.

It’s Friday night and exactly 5 days since I last saw Scott. We’re staying in to have a movie date to make up for the busy week. Both Dani and I are also so excited because my appearance in the movie will finally be announced tonight! As few articles popped up on Google with my name on it, we can’t help but jump around and celebrate. Bring out the booze!

“Scott Rivers Confirmed To Star With Rookie Actress Lily Dewan. Introducing New Actress Lily Dewan. Who Is She? Oh my god, it’s real!! You’re gonna be big, Lil. I can feel it.” I can’t help but laugh at her as she stands on the couch like she’s reading the headlines on a big crowd with a glass of cocktail on her hand.

“I still can’t believe it. It’s actually happening.”

“It is real, Lil. I’m so proud of you. In 6 months, you’ll be off to your promo tour! You’re not in the background anymore. This time, you’re the one that’s going to be interviewed. Can I get an autograph now?”

“Well thanks to you too. Dragging me to places finally paid off!” Our celebration was cut off by someone ringing the doorbell. “Are you expecting Matty to come?”

“No, we’re seeing each other tomorrow.”

I opened the door…and it’s Scott.

“Hey.” I said. I suddenly realized that I’m wearing nothing but a tiny satin set of pajamas and a breeze of cold air ran through my back.

“Hey.” He said as he not so subtly checked me out from head to toe. “We’re having a party next door. I figured you guys may want to join. You’ve met some of the people there too.”

“Hi Scott!” Dani interrupted. “Is it a party that I’m hearing?”

“Hi Dani! Yes, Eric and the others are here too.”

“That sounds great. We’ll follow in a few. We’ll just change into something more decent.”

“Awesome! See you in a bit.”

I closed the door behind me and Dani is about to come up the stairs. “Dani, what was that?”

“You we’re gonna say no. I could sense it from a mile away.”

“Shouldn’t I? Aren’t we supposed to stay in tonight?”

“We agreed to stay in because we didn’t have any better plan. But this, this is a better plan.” She started dragging me by the wrist to make me go change. “Now go and change. I’ll meet you downstairs in 5.”

Okay, fine. A little party can be fun right now.

Some of the crew from the movie are indeed there. It was nice to see people I worked with outside like normal people – no huge headsets on them.

Hours passed and tipsy me wandered in the kitchen to get myself a glass of water when I heard soft cries from upstairs. Fluffy! I searched the room for Scott to ask permission to go upstairs but he’s nowhere to be found so I made myself welcome.

Fluffy’s lying down at the top of the stairs like he’s waiting for someone to come and get him while his owner is out there partying. “Hi, love. Are you bored?” As soon as he heard my voice, he perked up and started wagging his tail. I walked up to the stairs and sat beside him. He laid back down but is still wagging his tail enthusiastically. “You’re lonely here all by yourself, aren’t you?”

I was quietly soothing Fluffy’s back when I heard someone coming up the stairs.

“There you are.”

“Hi. Sorry I came up without permission. I heard him crying earlier.”

“He can probably sense that you’re here.” He also sat next to Fluffy. “Whenever I have parties, he just sits on my bed and waits for me. It’s weird that he’s out here.”

I laughed at that remark. This clingy clingy dog really likes me. “Well, Fluffy loves me. Right, love?” With his head down, he wags his tail in agreement.

“Oh no,” Scott says. “I think he’s got a new favorite. Hey, no fair. I feed you every day!” he jokes.

“How are you, Lily?” I looked up, shocked at his sudden mention of my name. “I haven’t seen you all week. Caught up with work?”

“Well, yeah. I was gone for many days so I need to catch up. Plus all the contracts that I had to sign. Definitely a long ass week.”

“I have an interesting idea.” He shoots me with that look again.

I can’t help but laugh at his attempts in making a move. “How can you manage to make every conversation sexual, really?”

 “I’m smooth like that,” he says but he’s suppressing a laugh. “Besides, I think you had fun too. A 12, right?”

Now, how did he…?

“What?” My eyes widened with shock. “What…12?” Oh god. I suck at lying like this.

It’s his turn to laugh. “Dani’s not exactly discreet that one morning. I put two and two together and thought what it meant. It was a guess, but based on your reaction I think my guess is right.”

He comes closer to me and whispers, “Want to experience a 15?”

“Oh Rivers, I have high standards.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

I never got to go back to the party.

As I wake up the next morning, only Fluffy is lying beside me probably waiting for me to get up.

“Good morning, love.” I can’t find my clothes anywhere so I grabbed the shirt that Scott was wearing last night. Fluffy and I walked downstairs only to see Scott himself in his boxers, in the kitchen. Oh, good morning.

“You’re awake! Come try this.”

“What’s that?”

“One of the few things I can cook. Egg toast.”

I’m standing in between him and the counter as I take a bite on the toast that he made while his proud face is waiting for my reaction. “How is it?”

“Hmmm…a 12.”

He instinctively grabbed on my hips as he laughs. “I’m still a 12? Damn, I gotta work on that.” He starts pulling me close but I realized that I’ve got errands to do – important errands. Errands that can’t wait. Errands…that make a good excuse. “We have plenty of other time, Rivers. I need to do grocery today. Our pantry’s empty and Dani’s gonna kill me if we get takeout for dinner again tonight.”

“Wow, you cook?”

“I don’t just cook. I cook well.” I winked. “Anyways, I gotta run. I’ll borrow this shirt and steal this toast. I’ll see you soon.” I tip toed and stole a kiss from him before I escaped from his hands.

As I was opening the door, Scott says “Hold on. Can I go to the store with you? I need to grab something too.”

“Sure. I’ll message you when I’m about to head out.”

I looked around if there’s anyone outdoor before running for my own house.

“Oh my god!” Dani squealed in shock when I hurriedly opened the front door. “Oh, missy. You’re finally home!”

“Looks like something fun happened last night.” Matty, Dani’s boyfriend, pops his head from the living room.

“Matty! Nice to see you!”

“Hi. Are you…did you come from the neighbor? You’re hooking up with your neighbor?” Matty and his judgy questioning look is very much obvious.

“I’ll fill you in with the details. We need to go.” Dani rolled her eyes and proceeded to drag her boyfriend out of the house. “Are you doing groceries today, Lil?”

“Yes, I’m just gonna wash up and change. Are you staying for dinner, Matty?”

“Only if you’re cooking something nice.”

“I will!”

“I’m staying then.”

“We’ll you later, babe!” Dani shouted as they walk out the door.

We’re casually strolling around the grocery grabbing stuff here and there. “You know, I almost forgot that you’re popular until I looked at you now and you’re wearing shades and cap inside the store.”

“Just in case. It’s just more fun being able to walk around without eyes looking at you wherever you go.”

Popular or not, for sure people will still stare at you.

“What did you say?” Did he hear me?

“Nothing. I said it must be hard being too popular.”

“At times, yeah.” He grabbed a bag of flour. “Do you need this?”

“Yes, get me 3 bags. I’m baking stuff next week. Oh by the way, wanna come over for dinner later? I’m cooking a little extra since Dani’s boyfriend is here. If you wanna join too, just let me know.” I said as I was picking up a bag of sugar across the aisle.

“Ohh will I be introduced already?” he laughed.

“I’m inviting you for the food. Don’t go if you don’t want.” I jokingly told him.

“I’m kidding! Of course I wanna get a taste of that…whatever it is that you’re cooking.”

When we got home, he went straight to our house to help me unload the car. Then, he just stood by the kitchen counter watching me whip up something for tonight. Not long after, the lovebirds arrived. Since Matty didn’t look so shocked seeing Scott in our kitchen, I can tell that Dani has filled him in which is great since there’s lesser chance of him asking something stupid.

Fast forward to 5 months later, our group lunches/dinners became a habit. Sometimes we’d come over to Scott’s house or we’d drive all the way to Blackstone to visit Matty. It also helped that Scott decided to take that whole time as a break before he went to shoot another movie.

Yes, our little escapades went on. The fact that we’re neighbors obviously made things easier to get around. All my nervousness when Scott’s around has completely gone away. Most of the time it’s because I honestly forget that he’s all that.

We’re in the backyard playing with the dogs when the doorbell rang. Since Dani is out, I went to get the door myself. My parents! It’s their first time visiting us in the new house. They probably just wanted to check how Dani and I are doing. Oh no. Scott’s still out in the back.

Just as I remembered him, he comes walking inside the house with no shirt on “Babe, is that the pizza?”

Mom looked at me with questions in her eyes.

“Oh, hi.” is all that he was able to say when he saw the middle-aged people in the house.

“Mom, this is Scott, our neighbor and a friend of mine. Scott, my parents.” I saw the horror in his eyes as he quickly wore his shirt and came closer to shake their hands.

Oh my god, I’m gonna be in big trouble. Not because I have a guy in my house…but because I’ve got a guy in my house! It’s complicated. My parents are the type to bombard me with questions whenever they know I’m dating someone. I’m 27, has a relatively well-paying job, and can afford a house of my own. I should get married! I’m not kidding. That’s the only thing they want me to do.

I went to the kitchen and prepared snacks and juice for my parents. I left them in the living room and Scott seems to be mingling well with them. That’s worse news.

I called in Scott to the kitchen.

“Rivers, I need you to scoot out.”

“What? Why? We’re having such a great time there. I thought I’m gonna be in trouble for looking like that earlier.”

“It’s hard to explain, but they aren’t going to live this down. For sure they’re gonna ask a lot of questions about us.”

“Then, answer them. We can answer them now, actually. What’s so wrong with that? I don’t want to be rude and just leave without a word” he’s still smiling at me. “I’m gonna go back there.”

As he was walking past me, I grabbed his arm. “Scott, I’m serious. Make an excuse. I don’t care. Just please leave.”

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that it?”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“I can tell them that we’re just…”

“Scott, stop trying to be a nice guy here. You’re not my boyfriend. We’re not dating. You don’t have to pay respect to my parents. We’re just neighbors who fuck. That’s it. Now, can you just listen to me and go home?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me in disbelief. While shaking his head, he said “Neighbors who fuck. Yeah, that’s what we are, aren’t we? We’re not even the least of friends. Not even acquaintances. We were never more than that – neighbors who fuck.”

He walked to the living room and excused himself from my parents saying that his agent called him up or something and out the front door he goes.

The day passed real slowly after that. My parents waited for Dani to arrive and left soon after she got home.

I skipped dinner and went straight for a glass of cocktail when Dani sat me down in the kitchen stool.

“Are you alright? You’ve been looking dazed ever since I walked in.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so. What happened? Is it Scott?” I smiled at her. “I know that face. Did you guys fight? You’re not even dating yet. Wait, did he meet your parents?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh shit.”

“I know.”

“What did he say? Did they freak him out?”

“Worse.”

“They got along.”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him to stop acting like a boyfriend since we’re just neighbors who fuck.”

She looked at me like I’m the stupidest person in the entire world and I probably am. I create problems for myself. Problems that I have no idea how to solve.

“Lily, the guy has been there for you for months on end. I know that your set up is all about hooking up and not catching feelings, but it doesn’t mean that you have to push him away completely.”

“It was stupid. I was harsh and I didn’t even realize it.”

“Do you wanna hear what I honestly think?”

“Will you not say it if I say no?”

“No, I still will.” I know that for sure. “When I told you to go out there and have fun, to sleep with whoever you want to, I didn’t mean for you to do literally do the whole fuck-and-go thing. I wanted you to open up to other people and most important of all, open this…” she poked on my chest, “open this again. I know you’re scared. Scott could sometimes be too much to handle. I’m not telling you to run after him and confess. What I’m telling you is, give this a chance. You know it doesn’t have to be love. Maybe it’s friendship or companionship that he gives you. I don’t know. Only you two can answer that.”

Dani’s words rang through my ears, give this a chance.

As I was sipping the last drop of cocktail in my glass, Dani’s phone rang.

“Babe? Yes?” Dani frowned. “What? Now? Lily, can I borrow your phone?”

I gave her mine. “What’s wrong?”

She went on Google and I peeked on the screen only to see a photo of myself…and Scott in the grocery store.

Scott Rivers Travelled To Boston To Visit Hot New Girlfriend Lily Dewan?

Oh, no.